Mountains, Music, and March, Oh My!

The past few months, from the middle of January to the beginning of March, were slightly uneventful for me and Matt. After hosting the Matysiks and our friend Sean and having to go through the heartache of them leaving us behind in Japan, homesickness and frustration at our schools and situation pummeled us in the face. I, especially, felt sad and lonely and extremely isolated, and this, along with being exhausted from traveling for so many weeks on end, caused me to come home from school every day, lounge on our tiny, ridiculous blue couch and just sit. Matt, on the other hand, began to write music again and after a few weeks of feeling homesick and dismayed, I gradually got out of my funk and started to feel like doing things again.

This change really occurred when our friends, Beth and Thomas, spontaneously invited us to go mountain climbing with them one Saturday. It was a long-weekend (though I had to attend the Yamanashi Prefectural Speech Contests on that Sunday) and so we decided that it was time to get out of the house, to stop watching LOST on our computer, and to actually breathe some fresh air. So, we got up early on Saturday morning, packed our backpacks for the colder weather, made a brief stop at the 7-11 for “power” snacks and water, and then drove to get Beth and Thomas. We were on our way by 9am.

After a few glitches—we couldn’t find the right mountain and ended up in some really bizarre locale on another peak—we made it to the parking lot, where we debarked from the tiny K-car and began our ascent. Boy, mountain climbing for me just doesn’t get easier—physically, that is. I did feel more positive this time and tried not to think about the difficulties each step made for my aching legs. We took short breaks here and there, admiring scenery (though it was a cloudy, dreary day) or having a quick snack of chocolate or peanuts, and eventually hit the point where snow and ice were abundant. Trying to walk up a steep switchback while not a) slipping on the ice, b) falling through an unexpected sinkhole, or c) getting your shoes completely soaked from all the snow was a great (and at times unwelcome) challenge. Since we were constantly moving, I didn’t feel too cold, though I could see my breath and reached for my gloves to add some warmth to my reddening fingers. But overall, it was just the constant movement, the never-ending climbing, that wore me out and made me hope and pray that there would be another, easier way, to get down this god-forsaken mountain.

Reaching the gate to the temple, I felt so relieved! In 200 meters more lay the promise of a warm meal (we had had nothing to eat besides snacks the whole way up), warm shelter, and beautiful temple structures. Well, there were certainly beautiful buildings at the top of the mountain, but no food or warming huts to be found. So, feeling slightly dismayed and just having stepped into an enormous (hidden) puddle of freezing cold water, I was not feeling prepared for the information we would soon find out—we had to go down the mountain the same way we came up! Thinking about all the icy switchbacks and constant pounding of my feet on the cold ground made my stomach drop to my knees. We were all cold, hungry, thirsty and tired and none of us wanted to endure another two hours climb down the 2000 meter tall mountain. But, what could we do? So, mustering up our strength and bundling up for the cold again, we began our descent.

Climbing up a mountain is by no means an easy feat, but it is the descent that breaks your spirit and requires the most physical strength you have. Bracing yourself, locking your knees and trying to manoveour around patches of sheer, slippery ice is no easy task and with each step I felt my knees aching and the arches of my feet becoming more and more painfully tense. I slipped numerous times, once skinning my shin with a nice “ice” burn, and I also stepped on a jagged rock that shot lighting bolts of pain up my calf and into my knee. At one point, my legs, having worked so hard all day, began to shake uncontrollably—had I not been so tired and cranky I may have found the whole experience mildly amusing. But I was tired and cranky and the last thing I wanted were shaky legs attempting to hold me upright as I descended. I felt like crying and, at one point, a few tears were shed when Matt and I were out of reach from Beth and Thomas.

Eventually, Thomas and Matt went on head of us, and Beth and I made the rest of the trip down together. We passed a small shrine, indicating that we were close to our starting point, but, what did we find there? Small stone steps leading down to the cedar forest. After bracing yourself and putting all the pressure on your knees while going down steep paths, the last thing your body (and mind) feels like doing is walking down a bunch of steps. Taking this opportunity to let our frustrations shine through, we deemed these stairs (unlike the steps to Nirvana at Kuonji Temple) the Stairway to Hell—and believe me, it was hell to get down them. But, after the stairs gave way to a more even pathway, we knew we were almost done—our mountain climbing was nearing a joyous end! Just before passing through the torii symbolizing our accomplishment in climbing that day, we passed a family who were praying at a small shrine. Their voices chanting prayers to some unknown deity was really the perfect ending to our adventurous day. I no longer felt angry at the mountain and all her obstacles; rather, I felt a sense of serenity and calm pass through my body and so, when we met up with Thomas and Matt at the bottom, I was able to look upon this day with a sense of great accomplishment and excitement. And, while I was most certainly sore and bruised for days after, it was that chanting that kept things in perspective and gave me the ability to move beyond my “funk” and to start enjoying Japan once again.

A week after our mountain excursion, Matt played his first solo gig at a benefit concert in Kofu. Our friend Courtney put on this benefit for her mother, whose house burned down and whose pets were killed in the blaze. The benefit, called “Yennies for Kenney’s,” was to raise money to help her mother start all over again. All the JETs and other foreigners in Yamanashi brought their spare change (and then some) as the entrance fee to the concert, and Phil, Matt, Jon Smith, and Kim all played covers and original music to help support this event.

When Jason Hill and I arrived, Phil was just about to start his 15-20 minute set. We dumped all our change into the huge bucket, found Matt and listened to Phil play. Then it was Matt’s turn. Getting out the video camera and asking Jason to take still pictures, we listened to his set, cheering him on the whole time! The sound quality in The Vault was far from superior and it also didn’t help that people were already drunk and talking as loudly as possible. But regardless, Matt did an astounding job—playing three covers and two originals. His set was as follows: “Two Headed Boy” by Neutral Milk Hotel, self-composed songs “Autumn Leaves” and “Western Man,” “Things Behind the Sun” by Nick Drake, and “Casimir Palaski Day” by Sufjan Stevens. I was so immensely proud of him for harnessing the confidence to play alone and to sing out—something I have been telling him to do for nearly five years now. And so, when we finished his set, I gave him a huge hug and told him how proud I really was.

The rest of the night went well. Jon Smith played jazz piano and Kim did his own, “unique” concert (all original compositions with highly questionable lyrics—but comical nonetheless). We enjoyed talking to some other people, catching up with other ALTs who we haven’t seen in some time,, and then called it a night, heading back to our apartment with Jason in tow.

And during this time, Matt and I had our last classes of this 2006-2007 school year. For me, it was both exciting and a little sad to be saying goodbye to these students (who I still see at school but will not teach again). Certain classes were amazing and had really great kids in them; others were more challenging and won’t really be missed all that much. But it was just boggling that the year was over and that, come next month, I would be seeing new faces in each class and trying to adapt to new levels of English and new class dynamics. So, on the last day of each class, I had the students pose for a picture with me—so I will always remember them and my experience teaching here.

The first two weeks of March were, in all honesty, extremely boring at school (without classes to teach or projects to work on). Many days I would just sit at my desk, wondering what to do with myself and my 8 hour day. Matt was in the same predicament too. We’d study Japanese, read the news online, email people, and other such mundane things, but after sitting for four hours doing such things, our minds were fried and our patience at the limit. There were many nights when we came home frustrated, irritable, and cranky and these were not some of our finest moments in Japan. But, with only two weeks remaining before my mom, dad and sister will visit us, and having a few holiday days off from school, things seem more manageable and we are much happier. We’ve also been watching many movies, the best we’ve seen recently being The Departed and The Devil and Daniel Johnston. And spring is also coming quickly: the plum blossoms have arrived and sakura should be here any day now. We have plans to visit Ogino-san’s (our Japanese friend) home next Sunday and I will hopefully be able to wear his wife’s kimono and take pictures with Matt and the sakura. So things are brightening up from January and hopefully, as the months march on, as we start a new school year, as the days become warmer, we will begin to feel more like ourselves—like we did in the fall—and will be able to enjoy Japan before we leave her for a long and undetermined time.