The Wanderer's Return

The day I never thought would arrive is finally here: I, Lauren, have returned home.  I flew in on a Tuesday night, and will start work next Monday, which gives me a few much-needed days to settle in and prepare for my return to work. It's a bit surreal: it seems like nothing changed since I flew out. Boston is still freezing, though thankfully I missed the worst of the snowstorms; my friends and family faithfully rotate in their daily spheres; the Starbucks from which I write still serves bitter black coffee.

I'll skip the melodrama and not pretend that "everything has changed" for me, because it hasn't. I'm the same person, with a few new experiences under my belt - it's just odd to return after a whirlwind tour halfway across the world to find that Boston has remained beautifully unchanged. I've learned a lot these last two months, about myself and the world around me; because I am an engineer and fond of organizing, I shall put them in bullet points for my own sanity.

- Just because someone is from ten thousand miles away doesn't mean I can't relate to them. This should seem obvious, but I think I departed with the expectation that things would be so different, that everything would be foreign to me. In some sense, that was true - the trappings of the places were different (language, dress, culture, scenery, socioeconomic class), but people are people no matter where you go. Everyone has a story, from an AirBnB hostess who wept in front of us about her son tragically killed in a car accident, to new friends who still searched for their vocational passion and worried about their future. There's a lot that separates me from those I met, but a smile and a kind word go a long way.

- English isn't necessary. This wasn't too much of a surprise, as I've traveled to places with limited English before, but generally I can make out some words with my knowledge of Spanish and German. I didn't understand a darned thing anywhere I went, but gestures, Google Translate, and calculators for numbers were my saving grace.

- I think I could live in Asia someday.  A few years ago, my goal was to spend part of my life in Western Europe, but after spending time in Asia, I've expanded that list of future long-term home bases to include Singapore, Hong Kong, Korea, and Japan. (I'd live anywhere now, but when I become a real grown-up and have kids, the list necessarily needs to narrow.)

- I like to plan....a little too much!  I kind of exhausted myself; I planned things for every single day of my trip, and I could have used a day or two "off" to recharge in the middle. Next time I have a long trip, I'd like to travel with only a general idea of where I'm going, so I can be flexible and stay in places I like longer and hurry through places I don't love.

- Being a cheap person in general does not mean you will stay within your budget automatically...oops

- I have too many clothes and shoes. I survived on 3 pairs of shoes, 3 pairs of pants,  1 pair of shorts, 6 shirts, 1 skirt, and 2 dresses for 2 months. The size of my wardrobe practically paralyzed me this morning while dressing-- and this is after having sent 4 trash bags full of clothes to Goodwill.

-I never want to stop traveling. New goal: visit all 6 continents before I turn 30 (yes, yes, I know there's 7, but I don't have any particular desire to visit Antarctica - Boston in January is an adequate substitute). I have 4.3 years left!


Without further ado, I'll sign off....until the next adventure :-)

A Monk's Life

While Kate stayed in Kyoto another day (primarily, let's be honest, to spend all day in the International Manga Museum without m trading her incessantly), I headed to Mount Koya, also known as Koyasan (the town). Koyasan is a mountain in central Japan that i home to hundreds of temples, some of which offer lodging, monk-style, known as shukubo. Guests stay in the temple grounds, are given monk food (vegetarian, lots of mushrooms), and use facilities that monks typically use - a floor mat bed, traditional pajamas, etc - and can participate in the religious ceremony in the morning. This sounded like just the sort of experience I love, so I signed up for one night.

Turns out getting to Koyasan was a little bit harder than I bargained for. One-way took me five hours the way there, three and a half the way back. (Let's not talk about what happened the way there.)  After one subway ride, three train rides, a cable car jaunt, and some bus time, I finally arrived at my destination: Jimyo-in, a temple on the main street in town.  Koyasan is a very small town, with the main street no more than a few miles long, traversing the entire length of the town. On one end stands a famous old cemetery, "The Angkor Wat of Japan," as one monk described it. It's full of the tombs of ancient feudal lords, monks, and others noteworthy enough to gain a spot. The most famous resident is Kobo Daishi, who in 835AD was forced to commit suicide according to placards at the site, but died of an illness according to the internet.  No comment from me as to which is truer. Near his mausoleum he's a house of lanterns, which holds lanterns donated by thousands of people. Of the scores of lanterns, three remain continuously burning since they were donated: a lantern donated by a poor woman in 1016, who sold her hair to buy the lantern in memory of her deceased parents; a lantern donated by an emperor in 1033; and one donated by Emperor Showa in 1948.  Those dates are incredible--the woman's lantern has been burning  continuously for over 1,000 years!

Below: cemetery pictures

After wandering the cemetery, I returned to the temple and immediately (and accidentally) stomped all over the carefully raked stones and wore my shoes into the entryway (apparently, you take them off while still outside). The monks sighed, but with their ever-forgiving spirits, or perhaps for their own penance, have me the nicest room in the place. I had the most beautiful view of the garden, normally a luxury I would have to pay double for. The room has the most lovely view of the gardens, and a magical low table with a heater underneath and a comforter on top, so you'd stick your legs under the table for beautiful warmth while your fingers turned numb. Other than that, furniture was very limited, except for (I was disappointed to note) a TV. Who watches TV at a temple?

Below: monk life

Anyway, dinner was served to me alone in my room, as was traditional, and consisted mainly of cold mushroom dishes, tofu, and cold vegetables. It wasn't the best food I've ever had, but if monks could do it, so could I. Just as I was contemplating how to sleep in the hard, bamboo-mat floor, my server brought in soft thick pass to serve as a mattress, a warm comforter, and a straw pillow. The pillow was not in fact made of straw, but of short plastic hollow cylinders, and was surprisingly comfortable. Breakfast was much the same, and the religious ceremonial of incense and chanting. I think I was supposed to sit on my feet the whole time, but my feet kept falling asleep so I switched every few monutes, hoping to avoid monk glares (I heard they can be lethal). The most surprising aspect was how much time I spent alone; I'm not used to thay,but it was a good chance for me to reflect on where I've been these past two months, and cement my memories.

Below: sad monk food, monk pajamas, and padded bed

After my sad monk breakfast, I left town to rejoin Kate and travel to Hiroshima, where we'd stay one night. It wasn't a long visit, but we wanted to see the famous floating Torii (gate) and see the Peace Park, where the A-Bomb dome lies. The floating gate was first - it required a bit of a journey to the seaside, but it was worth it. Plus we saw more tiny deer and lots of little crabbies in the mud! Alas, the gates don't look floating in my pictures since high tide is morning and night, and we could only manage an afternoon visit, but they were majestic nonetheless.

Below: Torii gates and baby hermit crabs

The next day came for Peace Park. There were many sculptures to the victims of the atom bomb, but the most sombering sight was definitely the A-bomb dome itself. This building is one of few to even partially survive the attack, which obliterated almost the entire city. It's a haunting reminder of the destructive power of nuclear weapons and war.  Over 140,000 people died in the Hiroshima attack, 70,000 instantaneously, and the rest later as a result of radiation exposure. After Japan rebuilt Hiroshima, they declared it a city of peace.

Below: Hiroshima, plus A -bomb dome before and after, paper cranes for the dead

Afterwards, Kate and I wandered Hiroshima downtown a bit before stopping at a sushi place for our final lunch in Japan. That afternoon we took a bullet train back to Tokyo,and the next morning I left for my flight home!

Mini Deer, Temples, and Tea in Kyoto

Kate and I took a bullet train from Tokyo to Kyoto, which was quite the experience. At top speed, these move at an impressive 200mph; the scenery outside becomes a blur, and I got a bit of a headache trying to catch glimpses of the farms and cities we passed. Our hostel in Kyoto was the nicest I've ever seen, with pod beds and privacy curtains. Kate had imagined a slum house with moldy blankets, and was quite relieved. We stayed in a hostel because money in Japan practically spends itself: everything is incredibly expensive, including public transportation. Kate's friend gave her a handy tip - convenience stores (7-11 is the most popular) actually have very good, and very affordable, food, including prepared food (not just deep-fried grease balls, or whatever they have in the US). Every night we would buy dinner and breakfast for the following morning at 7-11, and lunch was our meal out. It made travel in Japan much more affordable, though I never expected to eat 7-11 food in my lifetime.

Kyoto is the ancient capital of Japan, and as such has literally thousands of temples in its borders. We visited two - the first had a nice garden, and the second had a spectacular garden. The gardens were very peaceful, grounds covered in moss or stones raked into intricate patterns, with huge trees dripping with moss shading the area.

Below: Kyoto temples

We also wandered through Gion, the traditional geisha district, but only saw two brushes and many closed doors of tea houses. Still, it was beautiful. I took a traditional tea class in Gion, where an elegant Japanese lady named Nao demonstrated the art of making matcha, where you whip matcha powder into water. Matcha-making is a traditional ritual; each of her movements was deliberate, graceful, and rather mesmerizing. Clearly this profession was not meant for one as clumsy as I. Afterwards, she did give us a chance to whisk matcha tea ourselves into a cappuccino-like foam. This required a quick wrist movement that I found impossible, so Nao helped me out with a few graceful flicks of her wrist.

Below: tea ceremony, my sad matcha cappuccino, and Nao. Plus Gion at nighttime.

Now, a word on this tea whisk (pictured whisking matcha above): this was not the first time I had encountered this devious but if kittchenry. While in Tokyo, Kate and I were stopped on the street by a TV crew looking for victims for a local "quiz show." We unhappily agreed, and were presented with the below whisk and the question: " what is this? "
My first guess - the first one! - was whisk. They prodded me - "for what?" "Eggs? Batter? I'm not sure." The conniving TV man then told us it was used in art, obviously to throw us off, so we threw out wild guesses ( paintbrush? Paint mixer?) until they finally stopped us and informed us it was a whisk for traditional tea making. My first reaction: "I was right!!!!" They stood around sheepishly grinning until we left , and I'm sure the footage will be edited to make us (and all Americans) look like uncultured idiots. If you can't tell, I'm a little bitter.

Kate and I spent one afternoon in Nara, wandering the central park and admiring the many half-time half-sized deer that roamed the park. We must have seen at least four wedding photoshoots too, most of which were elegant and lovely, and some of which were comical - for instance, a suited groom chasing deer, trying to subdue them into being photographed with his bride. After this adventure, I left Kate to explore the International Manga Museum to her heart's content while I headed for Mount Koya to live like a monk for a day.

Below: mini deer and Nara Park