Toyama City

This is where I live: Toyama City. Since I won't be going to aikido nearly as much as I used to, I will probably be writing a lot more about this very strange and interesting place I live in. That being the case, perhaps an informal introduction to the place would be a good way to start.

There it is! Right exactly in the middle of it all. Well almost. Actually, I'm pretty sure the geographical center of Japan is located in the prefecture south of Toyama, Gifu. But anyway, Toyama belongs to that green region on the map which is usually called Chubu, central Japan.

Here's a little closer look at Chubu. To get a little more specific, Toyama belongs to the Hokuriku region which is comprised of the prefectures in central Japan that are located on the Sea of Japan. Starting from the left of the picture, Fukui, Ishikawa, Toyama, and Niigata (kind of a swing prefecture that is sometimes considered Hokuriku and sometimes not.)

Here's the prefecture itself. Homely don't you think? Enclosed by other prefectures except for one side which is the Toyama Bay. The blue line going from left to right is the main JR railway. Basically, to the south and east of it mountains rise like a giant wall cutting Toyama off from the other side of Japan. Though there is one train line that goes south right through the center of the prefecture and into Gifu towards Takayama and eventually reaching Nagoya. For two years I lived in Kurobe City, which is located at the top right section of the Toyama Bay just before the coastline starts running to the east. In Kurobe if you go to the beach, you're pointed west looking across the prefecture and the bottom of the Noto Penninsula of Ishikawa. Kurobe is a small to medium sized town located conveniently next to great access points to the mountains for biking, and close to Niigata prefecture for snowboarding. But now I have moved to Toyama City (which is usually just referred to as "Toyama", which I may do as well, please excuse the confusion), the capital of the prefecture located directly in the center of the map around the railways.

And here is my humble abode, an average size mansion (apartment) located on the 7th floor. No three tatami room palace like I had in Kurobe, but for Toyama it's a good setup. Other rooms in the complex face brick walls and are smaller in size. Mine at least is one the 7th floor providing an interesting view with a river famous for cherry blossoms just below. It's taken me a while to get used to it, but it's starting to feel like home. Except one thing ... the sinks stink. I've poured drain cleaner down them, have air fresheners, but it still lingers. I'm contemplating the next step ... recommendations for dealing with putrid drains would be GREATLY WELCOMED!

Ja JAA! My balcony view. That portion of the road you see is actually a bridge, and the greenery on either side are the cherry blossom trees that line the river below. If you follow this road to the left for a fifteen minute walk you'll arrive at the train station. This is a pretty ideal location for a bum gaijin with no car. At night you only hear the bugs and the wind; thanks Toyama for really not being that big of a city. However, from the morning on, the thundering blundering of the street car which runs on that street is heard every five minutes or so. Oh well. I'm trying to wake up earlier anway.

 Another benefit of my location is I'm right next to Toyama Castle. It doesn't have the fame of Osaka or Himeji, but it certainly adds to the charm of the city.

The funny thing about living in Toyama now, is that for the two years I lived in Kurobe I dismissed the city as the biggest waste of time and space in the prefecture. The proximity of the ocean and mountains offer some amazing things particular to Toyama Prefecture, but Toyama City? It seemed just a grey sprawl in the center of the prefecture. To live in the city, separated so from the natural wonders was inconceivable. And yet, here I live, right in the center of it. But you know what, it's better this way. I have a special affinity for western Toyama inaka country towns, and I actually do most of my work there, commuting to Kurobe and its neighboring towns of Uozu and Nyuzen three weeks out of the month. But for living? I have a lot more options and inspirations here in this strange city. Strange because of its seeming incongruities; a phenomenon that is applicable to Japan as a whole.

Anyway, I look forward to doing experiments in the city in order to more fully understand it's constitution and direction. Maybe you can learn more about it or your own home in the process as well.

Tame-san

The other night after I had gotten back from the Aikido seminar, I turned on my phone and realized I had missed two phone calls from Nishijima Sensei. Nishijima Sensei was a PE teacher at Sakurai High School (school I teach at), but was sent to another school in the area (which happens every 5 to 10 years usually for teachers in Japan). He was one of the first people I met, and one of my favorites. He was no average PE teacher, but used to wrestle professionally and was one win away from representing Japan in the summer olympics. When he worked at Sakurai, we would talk everyday, and we had built a strong relationship. It had been a while since we talked, so I knew his calls were about something important.

To be honest, I was a little hesitant to call and get caught up with something because I just wanted to relax and clean my apartment. But of course, I returned the call. He picked up and told me that he had someone he wanted me to meet; a tea man. Because it was a little late on Sunday night, he hung up the phone to see if this meeting could take place. I was very surprised with which the urgency Nishijima Sensei spoke, and thought it must be really important. He called back assuring me it was OK, and I was on the next train to his town of Namerikawa about 20 minutes away on train.

On the train I thought about how nice it would be to relax and go to bed early. I had no idea what I was getting myself into going across the region to talk with a tea man. But I have a great interest in Japanese tea ceremony, and realized that everytime I keep my eyes open for something unexpected I am approached by amazing surprises, and when I go to sleep early I usually miss them. I was trying to imagine what this man would look like. My image was of a slight man, peaceful, but very calm, composed, disciplined ... perhaps a little strict. I was worried about what I had worn, and the effect of my limited Japanese. But oh well, I was on my way.

Nishijima Sensei picked me up from the station and we headed to his house towards the mountains. We got out into the hot summer air, and walked over to his friends' house where the tea man was staying.

I walked into the house into a whirlwind of small kids yelling and playing with toys to their heart's extent. I met Nishijima Sensei's wife, and son who is 2 years old, and two other couples with kids who were having dinner. I met them, and Nishijima Sensei told me to sit and wait for a few moments. I played around with the kids and talked casually with the other adults, and then a man walked in.

He was built like an absolute solid stump or wine barrel and had a completely bald head that wrinkled as it met his neck in the back, and a long grey/black goatee protruding from his chin. His build was so particular, but I don't really know what name to give it. Perhaps an appropriate image comes to mind of Oddjob from James Bond. But he was about 5'5", wore traditional summer clothing, and had a great peaceful emminence about him.

Nishijima Sensei said "This is Tame-san, the tea man." When we shook hands, he had a very gentle grip and gave a very nice "nice to meet you" in English, while making eye contact the whole time. He did not fit my previous image at all. He walked away to take care of something, and Nishijima Sensei started spraying bug repellent on my bare arms. He then said, "It's time, let's go" and we walked outside into the night air, Nishijima Sensei, Tame-san, and I. We walked to the front of the drive way where there was a small tea room made of wood. I couldn't believe this house had a tea room in front just like that, and entered through the characteristically very small entrance inside.

This tea room was very clearly hand made recently, and I mean this in the best of ways. It had all the necessary parts to a tea room, like the very small tea room itself with a tatami mat, a tokonoma, which is a space for pieces of art, which in this case was a small lantern, a vase with a flower, and a strange unopened scroll. Also there was a very interesting window that was circular in shape with wooden designs in it representing a rising/setting sun with clouds, and water at the bottom. Then there was the small area where tea was prepared, with the needed tools and pot to boil water. That is where Tame-san sat while Nishijima Sensei and I sat in the guest tea room.

I was trying to think of something interesting to say about the room or tea ceremony, but Tame-san wasted no time (though certainly not rushed) and began talking. He started talking about the dichotomy humans create between "correct" and "incorrect" ( tadashii and tadashikunai). Society deems things correct or incorrect, right and wrong, good and bad, but there are two drawbacks to this categorization. First, it can be very aversive. People who are subjected to this phenomenon of "right" and "wrong" since birth have little choice but to follow suit until they realize that they do not have to believe in such a system, and decide to follow something else. People are initiatlly unnecessarily chained to this concept, and it's effects run the gamut of undesirable conditions. Secondly, Society's concept of "correct" and "incorrect" is only applicable to the agent that decides it. This concept is inherently arbitrary and subjective, thus not accurate to all. Tame-san brought up the question of what we should do when we confront something that is "incorrect" or "wrong" or "bad". Well, he smiled and said we should do nothing. If a thief wants to steal, then let him steal. Say "OK! Here you go!", and then Tame-san laughed some more. Tame-san commented on how dangerous and unfair it is to subject people to a rule system without asking if that's what they want to do. Or reprimanding people without giving explanations of why. We must learn for ourselves. We are experiencing our own particular individual reality and life. That is most beautiful. This is the purpose of Japanese disciplines and art forms, and of life: to learn for ourselves.

Certainly this is a complicated subject with no one answer, but here I hope to represent Tame-san's character (though of course, the conversation was in Japanese so my explanations are solely based on my limited undersanding ... nanto naku). After this first conversation, I've never experienced someone like Tame-san before. I've seen so many videos, and read so many books about these characters who seem to genuinely embrace Zen philosophies. He looked you in the eyes honestly and squarely, he listened when someone spoke, spoke with a softness, and laughed from his belly uncontrollably. I couldn't believe the person I was sitting in front of. This is the center of much of my interest in Japan. I'm so elated that he wasn't the strict image I had before.

Tame-san soon explained his current situation. He travels around, serving tea in society in his personal expression of cha no yu (freestyle as opposed to the strict discipline of other formalized tea schools of sado like omotoseneke and urasenke which he was apart of for many years before). Most of the time, he sleeps in the woods. He said that when he "goes home" to the woods after being away, he says tadaima ("I'm home") by howling to all the animals. At that point, he demonstrated his howl before Nishijima Sensei and I, which was as honest as could be. It was extremely loud and went on much longer than 99% of people would ever try to demonstrate a howl. Perhaps 99% of people would be very embarrassed or uncomfortable doing such a thing in front of a stranger (including me) but not Tame-san.

Do you think he's crazy?

All the while through these conversations, Tame-san had been preparing some tea for us. This is the way his tea ceremony goes. A small group sits together, talks, or doesn't talk as it comes naturally while he prepares tea, and then we drink it together. This is starkly different that the official disciplines of tea where every movement is preordained and abided by. I completely forgot what the name for the tea he served was called, but it certainly wasn't regular green tea most people are accustomed to drinking, and it was different from matcha, which is what I usually assumed was used in tea ceremony. He served us a couple different kinds of tea. All of which had the most wonderful quality I have ever tasted. Here is no place to go over the movements and happenings of all tea ceremony, but in this case, he would make the tea, pour a small amount into a bowl (which he made), and I would drink a few sips, and then pass it to Nishijima Sensei. One should empty onself so as to fully experience the tea. When I took a small sip, the warm and full flavor seemed to envelop the inside my mouth (is that possible?). Tame-san said after he takes a sip, the whole world through his eyes change, and gave a look as if it had been mushroom tea instead of green tea. This is a man searching for honesty. To him, it comes in a natural and informal fashion, peacefully and best expressed in joy.

I asked some questions about his past, and how he maintains such a lifestyle, but to be honest I don't remember exactly the answers he gave, and I didn't ask every possible question about such things. Instead, we enjoyed each other's company, having the experience we were having.

One important detail that I asked was, "Where do you sleep? Do you have a tent?" He answered, "I sleep right there." And pointed to where I was sitting. We were all a bit confused.

"I drive to where I want to sleep, park the truck, and sleep right there on that tatami mat."

"This is built on a truck." He began laughing roarously.

WHAT!?!?!?!?

I took a good look around to realize that, this tea room Tame-san had built was on the bed of a truck.

!!!

I don't care if he's enlightened, or crazy, or what. But that is the coolest thing I have ever seen.

Hey Dojo Rat! How about a traveling saloon???

Tame-san and Nishijima Sensei's friend came to join us, and we talked about the things Tame-san had in his truck, as well as other strange Zen philosophies. I couldn't believe this grouping of people. Tame-san, this stout bearded zen traveling tea man. Nishijima-Sensei, a very small but incredibly cut professional wrestler from Tokyo who looked more military than anything else and who was now a high school PE teacher in small-town Toyama. Their friend who looked more like a slightly built geeky science teacher. And then me, a strange blonde gaijin. All of us united, talking and laughing. All kindred spirits. All with our each distinct manifestation of the same desire for an interesting happiness.

When I returned home on the train, I've never felt more unsure if I was dreaming or not. This is one of the strangest experiences I have ever had.

I have a book recommendation for anyone interested in Japanese tea ceremony and Japanese culture. In fact, of all the wide variety of books I have read about Japanese culture, this is number one:

"the Book of Tea" by Kakuzo Okakura.

Aikido Gasshuku

This weekend we had an aikido gasshuku, which could be translated as seminar, but also intonates an overnight stay with the people at the seminar. The location was Joetsu, in Niigata prefecture about and hour and a half drive north of Kurobe. The group from our dojo numbered at 18 and we all carpooled to the spot. I was lucky enough to ride in the same car as Sensei, one other skilled black belt, and one of the only other students who started after me.

Interestingly enough, Sensei is a Buddhist priest. Writing this, I think the image foreigners usually have of most Buddhist priests can be very different than most of the priests in Japan. Think less, a monk with a shaved head meditating in the snow. I can't explain exactly what being a Buddhist priest in Japan really means, because I don't really know. But I can tell you that my Sensei is someone who also runs an Aikido dojo and appears to lead a normal life. Temples are not just found on top of mystical mountains in the forest, but 98% more often found in towns and cities in Japan. I have no idea how many temples are even in Kurobe, but a lot more than I know about. At the high school I teach at, the Social Studies teacher is also a Buddhist priest. My Sensei and the high school Social Studies teacher both work very hard, have lives other than chanting sutras, and I have seen them both incredibly drunk. I think much of Sensei's work as a Buddhist surrounds maintaining the temple, holding events, and fulfilling requests for people. But to be honest, I really don't know.

Anyway, the three of us picked up Sensei at his house in Nyuzen, and I was really impressed by his temple. He met us in traditional summer clothing which was silver (think kimono-esque, but much lighter in weight, less fancy, and shorter sleeves and pants), traditional geta sandals, and some really stylish shades, making him look more yakuza (Japanese gangster) than small town Buddhist priest. With my beard and sunglasses, I think we caught more looks than usual.

During the ride, I asked Sensei many questions about aikido, but understood little of the answers.

When we got to the Joetsu dojo, I was surprised to find only four people training who belonged to the dojo. One white belt, two black belts, and their Sensei. It was the first time the two groups had trained together, so there was a bit of getting used to each others' ways on both sides. In martial arts, communicating with other practitioners is something truly necessary though it can sometimes be uncomfortable. The Joetsu Sensei welcomed us and led us through warm-ups, but the teaching of techniques was given by our Sensei, which I didn't expect. However it was certainly appropriate. The Joetsu Sensei was a 3rd dan (3rd degree black belt) and looked around 30 years old, and our Sensei is a 6th dan and I think 54.

Over the spectrum of Japanese martial arts, the belt system and it's effects are often heavily debated. At this seminar, I was able to have my own experience seeing the differences between degrees of black belts. First of all, having a black belt (at least in Aikido) is by no means a sign of mastery, but a beginning of becoming a true practitioner. To me, it seems to have a black belt means you know the techniques of the curriculum and can execute them at a satisfactory level, can take the falls required of the techniques safely, and have a good sense of what your style of martial arts is. There are quite a few 3rd dans at our dojo, and to me, these people have a great amount of experience in aikido, exhibit effectively the qualities of aikido, understand many different aspects of approaching techniques, and effectively execute the techniques. If I'm not training with Sensei directly in class and instead with one of the 3rd dans, I am still learning from great great aikidoka. But next to a 6th dan, you can really feel big differences. My Sensei as a 6th dan seems to have the techniques more deeply ingrained in his bones. Every movement seems to exhibit qualities of Aikido. To move with Sensei is a completely different feel. He seems to just do the technique, which can be hard for beginners to see and understand in attempting to make the connection between not doing and doing a technique sometimes. My appreciation for the skills and attitudes of my fellow aikidoka and Sensei grew a lot over this seminar experience.

As for the specific details of the first day of the seminar, it was unbelievably hot and sweaty, I made a lot of mistakes, had a lot of fun, and can't remember all the details that were revealed to me. So I'd say it was a success.

Aikidoka putting on their dancing skirts ... hahaha, just kidding, the pants/kilt/skirt is a hakama and it's very serious business, and I want one oh so very badly.

Gaijin about to eat mat.

This girl is one of the higher ranking and toughest aikidoka in our dojo, and never gives you a technique. But it seems after 8 months I've broken her down with silly gaijin charm! Smiling in the middle of techniques. In aikido we smile through the pain.

They even let me have my turn sometimes.

After the first day's practice, we went to where we were staying. Going into this, I actually had no idea where we were going. I expected something rudimentary like a gym or dojo. But instead, we were staying at a really fancy ryokan (traditional Japanese inn). We had a couple hours to get settled in, partake in the communty bath, and get ready for dinner. So, I grabbed Hosogoshi (best buddy who I climbed Tsurugi dake and Tateyama and went diving for oysters with), and we immediately found the beer vending machine on the premises. We hung up our sweaty-soaked gi (training uniform) and put on yukata (summer kimono) provided by the ryokan.

Here's some of the dudes.

Some decorations commonly found in ryokan.

This room was built partially over the garden's pond and you could look down through glass to see the biggest koi fish I've ever seen.

There he is! The famous Hosogoshi. Definitely the coolest guy in Japan.

More cool ryokan decorations.

And the handsome looking guy on the right closest to the camera is Sensei!

When it was dinner, we gathered in a large tatami room which would be ours for the next few hours. We ate a fancy traditional Japanese dinner, but in fact, it sometimes makes me a little nervous. There was one dish I could absolutley not eat which was fish eggs in a sauce that looks like something I can't even mention on the blog. The person next to me took it down with a huge smile. But there was some sashimi (sliced raw fish) that may have been the best I have ever had in Japan! And then many other dishes in the middle that went from OK to really good.

Cute and tasty mini octopus.

Absolutley awesome sashimi.

The woman on the right not dressed in yukata is Ueno, the number two of the dojo, and my favorite woman in Japan for so many reasons.

Sensei hard at work at the head of the table.

We also had what may be the cornerstone of Japanese dining: nomihodai (all you can drink beer and sake) which is always interesting. My great buddy Hosogoshi who was quickly reaching a peak of wastedness was philosophizing at a high volume about the "Human Bairas!" "Humans are a bairas!" I think he meant virus. Also, Ueno who is the number two in the class, was crying uncontrollably about her cat of 20 years that had died recently. Amid all of this, I had gone over to Sensei where we attempted a conversation about Aikido.

Conversationally, my Japanese is sound and I can understand a lot of what Sensei says now, but once we start talking about the specifics of Aikido, communication is lost. It was the beautiful the frustration we both had. We both had important things to say to each other, but the words couldn't communicate. One part I did understand though was about participation. He said two days a week practicing Aikido is not enough to really progress and become proficient in aikido (which is what I do), and we talked about the classes he has in Uozu two other nights of the week which we have talked about before. But I haven't nosed in too much without being invited for fear of being rude, and so the conversation usually dribbles away after he mentions that it's too far without a car. But I know the area well and it would be a 30-45 minute bike ride one way, which would definitely be worth it. We'll see how this progresses. He also mentioned that before I leave Japan, I should stay at his house for a month or two for aikido. Uchi-deshi experience? My stomach turned in excitement.

One other thing he mentioned was about his aikido. He said that he practices aikido to become strong. By this, he certainly doesn't mean he wants to have huge muscles, but something deeper. In class we follow plenty of protocol and tradition, but I know we don't do as much as many other dojos, or spend as much time talking about things like ki. My sensei is concerned with good technique, and that objective priority, makes for a great aikido experience for me I think.

After this seminar which marks 8 months of practice, I am dedicated, and have grown very close with Sensei and the other members. This next Saturday I have obligations at school, but I think next week I'm going to more directly and formally ask about classes in Uozu. My time here in Japan is precious, fortunate, and limited.

Eventually, we had fulfilled our welcome in the dinner room, and were told to go elsewhere inside the ryokan to continue on. At that point, I've never seen such a mad dash to smuggle alcohol out of a room. People were chugging their beers as well as any others in the vicinity half full, one person had taken the shochu bottle and put it down his pants, and Sensei was checking the bottles, consolidating the remains. I then remember last week at the end of practice when Sensei was talking about the seminar, that we would have nomihodai for only a couple hours, so we should sneak out as much booze as possible when it was over.

We amassed in another room for more debauchery.

In one of the bigger rooms people were staying in, they had a garden inside the room.

The evening went into the dark hours of morning where me and two others were talking and drinking in our room, next to a passed out Hosogoshi. I actually got to the point where I was trying to speak Japanese, but my mouth could not physically make the right shapes and sounds appropriate to the language. It was time for bed.

After an unneccesarily early rise and seminar training session, we headed back home. But not without onsen of course.

I did have one great epiphany at the seminar though. I watched one of the white belts be thrown and while he was doing ukemi (roll), I could clearly see his bright red underwear under his soaked white gi pants. I shook my head and laughed thinking him to be quite the amateur, until I looked down at my own pants to clearly see my blue boxers glowing through my own gi. Silly white belts.

Adventure Weekend Part 2

This is another account of one of my bike rides. However it is much different than the last very lengthy and descriptive one. Those take more time than I have, so I'm trying a shorter route here. Please let me know what you think (if you like one more than the other, etc) in the comments section if you have an opinion. Please enjoy.

It all starts again. Thrust from the night's rest into the sun, to mountain forests on meandering paths, it all starts again.

Temple stops,

old and wooden,

with bell and dragon inhabitants.

Though hardly a thing of the past,

it now matures with cigarette butts and lights.

Yin and yang exist eternally.

Rice field seas isolate human buildings and gardens,

as islands to be visited by a monkey's hungry curiousity.

Important things are transported along tracks with shacks.

Effort's design.

But there is nothing here save what's already been done.

Past the signs that read "wild boar warning" is where magic still stirs.

Both ancient and fresh,

this is not just a picture, an image, or a forest.

This is life in all it's complex intricacies.

Anger, fear, happiness, and computers.

And also is this; sex, fame, the war in Iraq, your great grandchild.

This is the end of a road.

Sporadically, images of self appear all alone.

I've searched for hours pushing a bike in the sun,

looking for something without a name,

without a past that has been tainted by the writings of man.

Perhaps it takes a small pond of mosquitoes on a medium sized mountain ... nope, it was made by man.

Perhaps it's not so bad...

Perhaps it's hell...

Perhaps the picture just won't come out right.

Already again this day ends.

What of everything, but nothing at all ...

there must be something.