And a-one, and a-two

J115 Wednesday August 15th

I did nothing the entire day. I ate the leftover burritos and watched Conan the Barbarian. There is something...sublime...about a day of sloth. I needed a non-mobile day, after the seemingly endless motion of the previous week.

Conan was delightful, as I remembered it to be. In fact, it was probably the first time I'd seen the original, non-TV-edited version in years. I was surprised at the overall silence of the film; there is very little spoken dialog. There are plenty of special features, including a making-of featurette which I watched a part of. It was quite an up-and-down production, with lots of drama about who would play whom, what the film would be like. Oliver Stone wrote one of the first script drafts, intending the series to be 12 films long (!) and staying very faithful to Robert E. Howard's stories of the iconic black-haired barbarian.

Alas, like all things Hollywood touches, such grandeur and respect was not to be. Now, don't get me wrong, I really like the Conan movies. Both of 'em. They're campy and pulpy and cheesy at times, but they get it right a surprising amount of the time, too. Seeing a 12-film epic, detailing the rise and fall of Conan the Barbarian, though, is the kind of thing I dream about, and don't tell anyone.

Wait...oh, crap.

Anyway. Nothing much happened other than that, today.

J116 Thursday August 16th

Back at work! This week is going to be only 3 days long, so that's a bonus. Today was uneventful, really. Just getting back in the swing of things, getting my teaching legs back, as it were.

J117 Friday August 17th

So uneventful, I can't remember anything!

J118 Saturday August 18th

Busty, as Saturdays always are, but uneventful. I'm pretty sure I went to G-Bros for a few.

J119 Sunday August 19th

Decided to go exploring today. I wanted to stretch my legs a bit, after being cooped up in the school for so long. I fear I'm developing an addiction to physical activity and the outdoors. God help me.

I had heard from a few students and friends that there was an Airsoft store near the local college campus. I set out to find this mythical store, knowing roughly where Ibaraki University was, but unsure as to how to get there exactly. I set off down and then up a series of hills to the south, testing my physical endurance. By the time I got to the top I was working up a healthy sweat, and I enjoyed the test of my body. My growing health and strength continues to amaze me, and it is a joyous thing to finally realize my physical potential. Plus, I look great.

I soon found myself lost, trying and failing to find the University. I ranged far, far south. I followed the main road quite a ways, and then turned west, knowing the University was on tha side of Route 6. Before I headed back north, though, I kept going West, toward the mountains. I found a river and followed it. On my side were houses and buildings packed, in the Japanese way, against the foot of a startlingly tall mountain. The river itself was walled, also in Japanese style, with steep walls of concrete blocks, like a canal. The riverbed was stony, and the water was shallow, but swift. A few bridges crossed the river, but I was content to peddle along a small pedestrian walkway alongside the road for the moment. I spied a trio of young Japanese people as they frolicked in the river, trying to stay cool in the heat of the day.

I saw that the road ahead quickly entered the mountains, and though I desperately love those regions of Japan, I was still keen to find the Airsoft store. I crossed a small car bridge and turned back east and north. I stopped almost immediately, though, because I had found a torii. I parked my bike and ascended the extremely steep, rough concrete-and-stone stairs. The shrine was a small one, set atop a high ridge with another set of steps leading up. The ridge was a borderline for a pressed gravel parking lot, nestled behind a small block of apartments. As I took in the scene a toddler from one of the apartments vocalized in the blissful joy of childhood.

After a brief moment of contemplation I descended the steps and mounted my bike once again. I had started the day with a refreshing bottle of Aquarius, a sports drink similar to Gatorade, but had finished my modest bottle quickly under the sun's rays. I purchased another bottle from a nearby vending machine and was on my way.

Down the curvy, twisty back roads of Hitachi I rolled, finding the main street once again. I took another detour, back west, hoping to find the University once again. Around the bend of the road I found myself on peeked another torii, this one set into the folds of a larger mountain. I parked my ride and investigated. This shrine was a much larger one, but it seemed very run down, almost abandoned.

I ascended the steps quietly and slowly. The sun, already beginning its downward arc, and was setting before me as I climbed. The air was filled with a golden light, soft and hazy through the cedars. The trees had become quite large since their planting and had begun to break through the concrete steps. Several of the trees that lined the steps were strung with paper charms and prayers, signs of divinity and respect for the tiny gods that lived within them; one was a massive tree trunk, capped in a copper lid. Another, a trio of cedar trees, were the ones doing the most damage to the stairs.

As I climbed, I was accompanied by a beautiful black and blue butterfly. He flitted about, staying near me but always out of reach. I tried to grab a few pictures of him, but I'm not sure if I succeeded. At one point he charged me, but at the last minute swerved skyward.

The stairs led to a small plateau, carved from the side of the mountain, upon which balanced a handful of buildings. The shrine itself looked better than what I'd imagined. It looked like it hadn't been swept in a few years, but it wasn't falling apart. I saw another set of stairs, moss-covered with a beautiful green carpet of life, which I gingerly climbed. At the top of this stair was a small graveyard and a road that led to an elementary school. A few kids played in the sandlot and their cries carried through the trees and sunlight. A low wall that held up the school's yard from the road was decorated with monsters and robots fighting one another, in a style no master painter could duplicate.

I turned around and walked down the stairs, pausing at the first plateau to offer my prayers at the main shrine. Down I went the main steps, meeting an old man ascending. We nodded an unspoken greeting/farewell, and I returned to my bike.

I rode on still, passing houses and businesses. Down one small side road I spied a branching path leading into the darkness of the mountain forests. I parked my bike and investigated this tiny patch of black. Nearing it made the shadows lighten, and I could see a narrow concrete stair case extending up a very shallow path of the mountain. I trekked upward, the little concrete steps snaking back and forth through the old forest. The smell of trees and summer breezes was everywhere, and the shadows were wet and cool.

The stairs ended in a broad concrete path which continued its inexorable climb upward. The path looked like no one had walked on it for years. It was covered in moss and twigs. Cedar skin scraped along in the gentle wind. Cicadas were chirping everywhere, all around me.

I reached another stair, this one of much broader steps and including a hand rail. I climbed this, curving around a small mountain peak. I exited the forest into what looked to be a neighborhood. I had climbed up the mountain and into a residential area. Cozy Japanese houses crowded around me as I walked. The mountain forest continued on to my right as I walked, with little gardens bursting with tomatoes and sunflowers sitting in a dozen feet of cleared ground.

I got to a cross street and stopped. Before me, to the north, the mountain curved down gently, giving me a view of the buildings off in the distance. The mountains marched from west to east, framing the scenery with their unmoving beauty. Above them, in stark contrast, was a highly mobile cloud. It was very large and very white, reflecting sunlight in sharp chiaroscuro, a battle between bright white and the cool azure of cloud-shadow. The cloud moved steadily from west to east, appearing to mock the mountains in their stillness. The other clouds of the day were wispy and hazy smears of color, like an impressionist's work. This cloud, though, was massive and bold. A king.

I marveled at the sight, taking a few pictures. Part of me wished I had brought my bike, so as to careen down the mountain and see what lay in that valley beyond. I still wanted to find the Airsoft shop, though, so I turned around and began to walk down. On the way toward the broad stairs I saw a pair of cicada pressed together, no doubt well into their own reproductive cycle. I observed them for a bit, as the large bugs are prone to hiding despite their size. I disturbed them, thinking at first they were dead, but an angry click from one as it flew away informed me I was incorrect. I apologized to the remaining bug and moved on.

I was reunited with my bike and wheeled on once more, down twisty roads. I found myself coming upon a large, densely wooded area contained within a tall fence. I quickly calculated my position and determined that I was near where the University should be. I followed the sidewalk, which hugged the fenced trees. Though closely packed, I could spy buildings and broad lawns on the other side, and a realization crept into my head. Arriving at the end of the sidewalk, where the road dead-ended onto a larger thoroughfare my assumption was correct; I had found the University, quite by accident.

I went south on the main street, not Route 6 as I had originally estimated by a smaller road that ran parallel. Rapidly finding nothing resembling an Airsoft store, I turned around. My searching was finally rewarded, for not even a block from the university I found it. A small hobby store, peddling fake guns, model trains, and tactical gear, sat in front of a small house. The house's lawn was quite beautiful; much care went into the maintenance of this yard. The grass was a bright green and it was dotted with tiny trees and stacks of stone.

I entered the shop, taking in the different models and accessories that were within. Airsoft, for those of you who do not know, is a hobby similar to Paintball. Airsoft guns are low-velocity weapons designed to look like real guns, but fire plastic pellets. One can purchase a spring gun, weakest of the propulsion methods, a gas gun, using compressed Green Gas to propel the pellet, or an electric gun, using a motorized mechanism to punch the pellet out of the gun. The guns can range from super-cheap to mind-bogglingly expensive.

I found a model I liked, a thick-barreled revolver, for about 5,000 yen. I decided against purchasing it, however, given that I was short on cash, and didn't see much point in buying a gun I was probably never going to use. Getting it back to the States would be a real pain, too, so I'd rather just save my money.

I noted the location of the store, in case I ever wanted to return, and made my way back toward Hitachi. I swept down a hill and realized where I was. With an odd click inside my head the day's journeys resolved themselves in my mental city map. I was still feeling energized from the day's activities, so I decided to investigate Ito Yokado for shopping opportunities.

On the way to the store I ran into Erin, a new teacher. This was her third week in Hitachi, and she was headed for the beach to enjoy the last few hours of sunlight. I offered to show her Ose beach, the beach most of the Gang uses, which she accepted. We chatted as we walked. When we got to the unfinished sea-bridge, she waited for me while I sped home and got my swimsuit. I dashed up stairs, changed into my trunks, and stuffed a towel into my backpack. I sped back to the bridge, making the entire round trip in less than 15 minutes.

Erin and I continued our walk, down the steep switchbacks to the seaside road that runs the length of Hitachi's beaches. When we got to Ose, there were a few groups of people enjoying the sun and surf. The waves were high, though not especially rough. One of my students was there with some of his friends, and we greeted one another. He was deep into his cups, though, and aside from joviality, didn't say much.

Erin convinced me to swim in the sea. I'd been leery of doing so before, given the numerous chemical plants that dot the countryside here. Still, there were plenty of people who swam and surfed here, and I had yet to see anyone with chemical burns. Erin and I took to the water. It was quite cold at first, but soon my body adjusted and it felt pleasantly warm. The water was murky, and even a few meters out from the shore you couldn't see or feel the bottom. The waves bobbed us up and down, and a few took us by surprise. In all, though, it was a good swim.

We got out after an hour or so and toweled off. We rinsed our feet at the near by water spigot and made our way back home. We wanted to get cleaned up and do something fun, but didn't quite know what to do. We decided to meet in about 30 minutes at G-Bros.

I went back home and showered. Though not deadly, the ocean had left a thin, greasy residue on my skin. I won't be swimming every day, that's for sure. In a fit of inspiration I grabbed my easel, crafted weeks ago but until now unused, and sketched my face in my dressing mirror. I don't know why I did it...it was just sudden creativity. I resolved to paint it the next day.

Erin and I met back up at G-Bros. There were plans for the Gang to get together and do something, but that was some time away. I took Erin to Kumamoto Ramen, seeing as how she hadn't been there yet. She was amazed at the size of the servings; never let it be said that Kumamoto skimps on portions.

The plans were scrapped for the Gang, and those that were interested decided to meet at Gusto Burger. Erin and I walked down, leisurely, and joined my coworker and Claire there. Matt joined us soon after. We all chatted happily. Claire informed us as to the intricate nature of politics and factions in England, Scotland and Ireland. I didn't know how complicated things were there. My coworker told me about a film he'd found on the Internet, called Zeitgeist. I'll talk more about that in a later entry.

After Gusto we all went our separate ways. Those gathered headed for the beach, but my day's explorations were weighing on me, and I decided to head home to sleep. Off I peddled, west and then south, until my little apartment building glimmered in the darkness of night. I enjoyed a few minutes on the Internet, but soon I felt sleep calling. I unfolded my futon and went to bed.

Monday's adventures to follow! I promise I'm still writing! It's all going on paper, now. I'm transcribing it as I find time.