Hi-ho, Hi-ho, it's off to work we go

J170 Tuesday October 9th

I had some trouble sleeping, so I got up early. That happens sometimes. I decided to get started on the G.R.E. application process, so I did some Internet gumshoe work. I had emailed the American offices of E.I.S., the company that creates and grades the G.R.E. Their response told me to get in touch with a Japanese company called C.I.E.E., claiming that this company was the one who administered the test here in Japan. I called C.I.E.E., but they said that I had to call E.T.S.

I was not amused.

To compound my lack of enthusiasm was the impending pre-work task. Or should I say task what involved me getting to work earlier than normal. Today I was to help hand out fliers at Ibaraki University, Ibadai to the locals. It's not the most exhilarating job in the world, but it's work outside the office in the fresh air, which is always nice. I met M-sensei, my coworker, and K-sensei, our manager, at the office. We piled into K-sensei's car and were off.

Ibadai is one of several branches of the local University system in Japan. I don't know how it works, or what sorts of classes they offer, but the students there always seem very...serious. I don't know how else to put it. Many are dour, most are very closed off. Handing out fliers here always takes a while, 'cause many of them just ignore you or, quite literally, run away from you. Or run past you.

Two or so hours of passive aggressive fun later, we were finished, and headed back to the office. Upon returning to the office my mood brightened considerably. I was delighted to find that I a) had only one class that day and b) had a 2-hour break. Normally I have an hour to do with what I please, the rest of my day is spent teaching or in office hours. So large a break was stupendously rare.

I headed home for lunch, making a quick detour to purchase a new ink cartridge for my printer. I had to print out another math study guide for the G.R.E. and I didn't want to run out of ink.

I had lunch at home, another rarity, and enjoyed the fruits of the Internets. The rest of the day was spent folding copious amounts of fliers and, of course, teaching. In the evening I biked home and went for another jog. The cooler air worries me somewhat, my asthma being aggravated by cold air, but I've held it together so far. That may change in the coming months.

J171 Wednesday October 10th

My morning Internet session was graced with a twofold conversation with Peter, a fraternity brother of mine, and my little (biological) brother E.J. They both had undergone an interview with E.A., a video game giant of America, and were both excited about the prospect of getting their internships there for the coming summer. I told them both how proud I was of them, and I wished them luck in their endeavors.

I tried to print out the new math guide from the G.R.E. website, but my printer developed a stupidity complex. It started to print pages out of order, and I decided to call it quits before I wasted any more paper. I would fix the problem tonight, after work.

I had to head in early again, 'cause we were handing out fliers...again. Although today was to be at a different school: Ibaraki Christian University. I'd never been before, so I didn't know what to expect. I met K-sensei and M-sensei at the office, and we hopped the train south. The day was pleasant; still a little warm with a nice breeze, and a beautiful clear blue sky.

Ibaraki Christian is a beautiful campus. It reminded me a lot of my alma mater, Georgia Tech, actually. Plenty of trees and bushes, lots of college-style buildings, but with the well-used, semi-decay aesthetic that is the Japanese hallmark. The greatest part, though, was the students; they're so much less serious!

They laugh and smile! They don't run away from you! They practice their English with you! And best of all, they take what you are handing out. Remember how it took 2 hours to hand out the fliers the day before at Ibadai? We were done in 30 minutes at I.C.U. Also, the ratio? Had to have been 5:1, women to men. Astounding.

The difference between those two colleges, so very close geographically speaking, was astounding. It requires further contemplation on my behalf.

Back at work I had another big break. I had an interview with a prospective student, which went well. I decided to use my break to pick up some gaming supplies. I hopped on the train, southbound, for Hitachi-Taga, home of the fantasy land that is WonderGoo. I purchased a 360 headset, to be used with Halo 3's multiplayer, and a small internet hub, to be used so my laptop and 360 can be connected to the 'net at the same time.

I made it back to the station to catch the next train north to Hitachi. I got back to the office with minutes to spare, but it had been a break well-spent. The rest of the day, 4 classes in a row, went by quickly enough. I sped home, eager to try out my new toys.

The hub worked instantly. I wasn't particularly worried; it's like the stone wheel of computer technology. Cable A goes in slot 1, Cable B goes in slot 2, plug the power chord into the wall, and bam. If that doesn't work, something is wrong on a level more fundamental than most people can troubleshoot at home.

The headset was a different story. It's wireless, and has no battery slot. It came with a USB power chord (!) to recharge it. It didn't have a factory charge, so I plugged it in and let it juice up overnight.

J172 Thursday October 11th

A lite day, but it still felt kind of long. In the morning I experimented with the headset a little before work. Like all other wireless peripherals it must 'synch' with the mother console. I thought I'd synched it, but the little thing just didn't appear to transmit audio in either direction.

I put that aside to tackle my new math practice book-in-the-making. The previous day had yielded me a stack of single-sided pages. These were to be turned over and re-inserted into my printer's paper try to turn them into two-sided book pages. Somehow my printer was expressing constant paper tray errors, and during the previous day's printing session had begun to print a few pages out of sequence.

I sorted the correct pages from the erroneous, as well as the one-siders that were still usable. Patience, above all, saw me with a stack of correctly printed pages after the better part of an hour. I reverently packed them and my Utility Ball o' Twine into my bag and set out for work.

I only had two or three classes today, giving me ample time to hole punch and bind my newly minted math book. It isn't terribly thick, about 30 or so pages total. I'd learned a few lessons binding its smaller sibling the previous week, and the binding process was much faster and sturdier.

J173 Friday October 12th

Busy. Freaking. Day.

A full 6 classes, 3 in the morning, 3 in the evening, with two hours between. I hit the books during my lunch and office hours, flexing my super-rusty math neurons. And I do mean rusty. The guide is really quite good; it breaks down the math questions on the G.R.E. into their component parts. It provides an excellent, comprehensive math review that's not too dense, nor is it too verbose. It's a superbly crafted work, and I'd love to thank the author.

That being said, my performance today was...sub-par. Not horrible; I actually liked math way back when. I just haven't used that part of my brain in years.

Somewhere during all that neurochemical defrosting was a call from Brooke, the new Kiwi (New Zealander) teacher. She wanted to get sushi some time during the weekend. M-sensei had mentioned wanting to go hiking this weekend into the mountains. I'd love to do both, but currently they both want to do it on Sunday. Plans must needs change.

I ended the day with a bit of Halo 3 multiplayer. It's been a while since I've enjoyed multiplayer FPS gameplay, and I forgot how therapeutic it could be. Not that I'd been containing a murderous tide within, but decompression via Team Slayer versus, say, just surfing the Internet for a few hours, is a different experience. Gaming was, and still is, an important part of my life. My hiatus from it has been very interesting, not unlike a scientist taking sabbatical from his or her research. I approach it with a different viewpoint than I had before.

J174 Saturday October 13th

Up early for another busy Saturday. Saturdays are sort of like running a marathon; exhausting, but they let you know you're still alive, man.

During my brief breaks I brainstormed with M-sensei about weekend plans. The hike was moved to Monday, and my sushi lunch with Brooke was confirmed for Sunday.

The work day came and went. On my way home I stopped by Ito Yokado for much-needed groceries. I met Claire inside, and we chatted a while about the NOVA situation. The company has been having some trouble. NOVA, like my company, pays rent for its foreign staff. The amount is deducted from our paychecks at the end of every month. It's terribly convenient, but in the case of NOVA, replete with many financial woes, this means that the rent isn't getting paid. Furthermore, it would seem that the company hasn't been paying their Japanese staff, opting instead to spend what little cash they're making on foreign staff salaries. Things are not looking good for NOVA.

Bidding the bonny Scottish lass farewell, I headed back to the homestead, and I relished my pre-G-Bros home time. I was dozing lightly at my computer when I felt a rather intense earthquake. I heard it before I felt it, but when it came it was like a fist smashing into my apartment. One big lurch, then nothing. At first I thought I'd dreamed it, but I heard all my stuff rattling, and saw various objects rocking back and forth.

The regular gang was at G-Bros. A 'new' teacher, named J, was around. I say 'new' 'cause he's been in Japan for a few months, but has never come to Hitachi before today. He's with Interact, the JET-like private company, the same one Josh and Daniel, two of my D&D players, work for.

No one had felt the earthquake. Not surprising; for such large events they can be oddly localized. My weekly beer and chat time was pleasant, but my plans for the next day called me home at a reasonable hour. I then proceeded to play Halo 3 until 5AM. I like gaming, what can I say?

J175 Sunday October 14th

Amazingly, I was up at 9AM. Powering up the trusty laptop, I noticed E.J. was online. We chatted for a while, but then I had the crazy idea of using GoogleTalk to...talk...with him. We geared up our headsets and were soon chatting with Google's own free VoIP service. For the better part of an hour we talked. Many subjects, personal and public, we discussed.

We both needed to head our separate ways after a while, and we bid one another farewell. I showered and headed over to City Hall, where Brooke and I had said we'd rendezvous for our sushi. The day was a bit cooler than I'd planned, but nothing I wasn't used to. I got to the City Hall first, but a few minutes found Brooke there, too. She lead the way on her bike, and we set off north, in search of sushi.

Up and up and up we biked, up the gentle foothills that Hitachi was carved into. Uphill biking is rarely easy, but the best rewards are when one reaches the top. Brooke and I delighted in gravity-assisted acceleration. ZOOOOOOOOOOM! Nothing is quite like the rush of speed one gets on a bicycle. Maybe it's the closeness of the mechanism, the bare-bones quality, or the fact that one is not in a car-shaped shell, but damn if it doesn't feel five times faster when you're careening downhill at a solid 40 kph.

We finally got to Kappa Zushi, our destination. Kappa Zushi is a chain of conveyor belt sushi restaurants, with a layout and general atmosphere akin to a Denny's or Shoney's at home. It was a little crowded, and most of the crowd was family. Brooke and I were subject to many young children's open-mouthed wonder, which only made us smile. One little girl we saw had hair so long it would have dragged the ground, were it not gathered in a ponytail high on her head first.

We got a booth to ourselves and tucked in. Conveyor belt sushi is very much what it sounds like; there is a kitchen in the back of the restaurant where chefs churn out a never ending supply of sushi. The dishes are placed on a series of slow-moving conveyor belts that loop between a double row of booths. If you see a piece of sushi you want, you take it from the belt and chow down. You save your plates, stacking them toward the far end of your table.

There was a second belt, situated above the slower belt, which could be used for special orders. Want something that isn't showing up on the normal belt? A special desert, or more expensive kind of sushi? Just tap your order in on the touchpad above the table, and in a few minutes your order will zip along the upper belt straight to your table. Unload your dishes and hit the 'return' button before digging in, though, to send the little trays back.

Thanks to the exercise of the bike ride here, I wasn't terribly hungry. I put away 6 dishes of sushi (2 pieces each). We ordered some special things, though. I got a slice of melon, quite delicious. We tried something called an "avocado tortilla". Another cautionary tale, gentle reader: the Japanese do not appear to know what "avocado" is. Oh, certainly, one can find the buttery, rough-skinned fruit in some stores. But what we got was not derived in any way from that same species of plant matter.

Perched atop the two plates we got on the fast track were little tortillas. They were filled with a thick green paste, which we assumed was mashed avocado. I bit heartily into mine, but was soon set upon by sweetness, rather than the buttery smoothness one normally associates with avocado. The mixture seemed to be a kind of sweet cream, beneath which was situated a small bundle of mixed fruit. The treat was, on the whole, enjoyable, but it was not even remotely avocado-ish.

For desert we pigged out on flan. Brooke helped herself to some darker chocolate pudding, but I stuck to the classic desert. This was, thankfully, as I had anticipated. Firm gelatin, with dark, slightly bitter section on top, and a lighter, sweeter layer taking up the rest of the bottom. A pleasant meal-ender.

The waitress stopped by and tallied our dishes once we signaled our readiness to depart. I took a final swig of the complimentary green tea (power provided at the table, coupled with a hot water dispenser). Brooke and I paid, and were out again in the afternoon dusk. For those of you unaware, Japan does not adhere to the Daylight Savings Time system, rendering the days and nights completely vulnerable to the shifting lengths our ancestors experienced. As I write this, the difference in day length is staggering, but even as early in the fall as October, the shortening day was noticeable. It was scarcely past 2PM, and the sun was already in its decent.

We mounted our bikes and headed back toward home. We'd biked a solid 30 minutes north, but the trip felt a bit shorter on the way back. We stopped a few times to take in the Recycle shops that dotted to landscape. These media-saturated second hand stores are one of my favorite places, and they groan with loads of cheap games, music, and books.

Upon returning to City Hall, Brooke and I parted ways. She was off to her apartment, and I to mine. It was only around 3PM, but I felt quite tired. The lack of sleep the night before, coupled with the copious bike riding had drained my reserves. I vegged the rest of the day, fixing myself a batch of pasta for dinner, and saving the leftovers for my hike the next day. I finished the day with a bit of artwork; sketching onto one of the large format looseleaf pages I'd bought ages ago.

J176 Monday October 15th

The Hike! I was up at around 10AM and got ready. I packed my light jacket and my hat, my pasta for lunch, and topped off my Camelbak water bottle. I love that thing. I got off to a slightly late start. On the way out I heard the unmistakable sound of festival drums. The big shrine on Route 6, one of my favorite places in Hitachi, was having a small matsuri. I wasn't able to swing around front to see it, but I heard the merry, rhythmic taiko drums and the chaotic piping of flutes as I biked along the shrine's back wall.

I met M-sensei and K, our only other companion for the hike, in front of G-Bros. We took a few quick pictures, and set off. Our plan was to hike from Kamine Park, just north of Hitachi proper, all the way south to Ogistu, three or so stops south of Hitachi on the Joban train line.

We hiked along the road north, finding Kamine with little trouble. The path itself was somewhat difficult to discern, given that the map M-sensei had found was of somewhat blurry quality. We strode through the park, finding a few guide posts to show us the way. We came out the far side of the park, finding ourselves on a road I began to recognize. We passed a rather fancy looking golf course and found ourselves near the baseball field I'd climbed to during Golden Week, all those months ago. The field was empty, but in a nearby parking lot an old man was cleaning his car.

I was elected to ask for directions. The old man got the gist of what we were trying to do. He didn't show us where to go, though; he drove us there. He cleared out his back seat and drove us a good 10 minutes along the road we were on. At a small car park he pointed up a small set of steps set into the mountainside. That was the trail we were looking for. He pulled out a rather impressive atlas and calculated the rough travel times of our trip. He pointed out some landmarks, mostly peaks, that we'd see on our journey. Armed with our new information, we thanked him profusely.

Leaning up against the small wooden post fence that guarded the first few steps was a stout walking stick, a straight branch really. I laid claim to it after the other two declined, and we three set out...or should I say up?

Up we climbed, and then down. Up and down, so it went. Up hill and into dale. Over stone and root, but always we could find the trail. It was a well-maintained path through the hills and into the mountains, with sign posts every kilometer or so, or at any big branch or fork.

The mountains sighed with the wind as it blew through the rocks and trees. The sun, already beginning its decent, lay golden light all around us. The sounds of the city were quickly swallowed by the trees, and we were soon left in the silence of nature. We made our way up, some parts of the trail almost vertical. I was reminded of Mt. Fuji every once in a while, but the overall conditions were laughably easy compared to that behemoth.

Through gaps in the trees we could see the landscape beyond us. Grand vistas of thick woods lay all about us, shot through with artificial rivers of power lines and their towering supports. Several times, deep in the mountains and on side paths, we found evidence of previous habitation or structures. Like ancient ruins, slabs of concrete in odd shapes hunkered in the darkness beneath boughs. Vine-covered metal scaffolds spoke of old mines and digs, long abandoned. Occasionally we'd hear mournful squeaks through the trees, and found decaying metal skeletons. Their rusting parts rubbed together in the strong breeze, sending ghost sounds wafting through the wood.

Onward we forged, finding a small mountain top shrine. A short distance from it was a monitoring station of some kind, a concrete cube festooned with a small radio tower and a few power cables snaking off to attach a few clusters of scientific instruments. A few ominous concrete buildings were dug into the sides of small hillocks, but the station was quite unmanned. The shrine and weather station were perched atop a broad peak, overlooking one of the bigger valleys Hitachi was built into. I recognized it as the origin of the mountain road I'd followed deep into the hills during my Golden Week expeditions. Some 15 kilometers I'd hiked up a gravely road, past quarries and concrete dams, the dense, dark cedar forests looming to either side.

This world is so very beautiful, and I hope you realize that one day. Not to say that you don't already, but the beauty I speak of is something one can never finish appreciating.

We double-backed, unable to find the path where we were currently. Upon further review, we realized we'd gone off the major trail. Back on the correct path we headed west. Up a ways longer we found a small clearing, and decided to take in lunch. The sun was dipping low, but had still a few hours left in it. Our lunch was quiet, cool breezes ruffling our clothes and hair as we ate.

On again we trod, not thrilled about being stuck in the mountains after dark. After another half hour or so of climbing, we came upon a sheer, stony mountain peak. We took a short detour to scale it's backside, finding ourselves on one of the higher peaks of the mountains. Before us, laid out like some grand-scale map, was the mountain country of Japan. From the north to the south rolled the broad bases of the mountains. Atop them jutted the massive peaks, rocky but still clad in dense forests. A few roads crisscrossed the wooded mountains, and here and there a building glinted in the setting light. The sky was a brooding mix of gray and gold as the sun began its final arc downward, casting bright amber light through the wispy edges of massive cloud forms.

We shouldered on after taking a few snapshots. We'd lost the trail for a few minutes, but a quick scamper up the side of a mountain we found our way again. After another long ascent we began to hear an odd humming, grinding noise. As we continued down the trail, it got louder and louder. We spied a tall tower in the distance, atop which lay a Doppler dome. Next to it we saw a cell tower. We'd come across one of the last landmarks of our journey. The setting sun's rays were dimming by the minute, and we dallied for only a moment. The towers were accompanied by a rest stop; a small stand of toilets, a viewing platform, and a map. The map was a work of art, hand-crafted by scorching and painting the smooth-sanded surface of a broad slab of wood. We recognized the paths we'd been braving, and puzzled out the correct path to continue down.

We marched on, a quicker pace than before: the darkening sky and downhill grade contributing greatly to our speed. The woods pressed again around us, blocking much of the sunlight and plunging our trek into early twilight. Along ridges and the mouths of steep, tree-filled valleys we walked, catching sight of vital signs and other tools to help hikers. Twice we used ropes and chains tied to trees to descend steep segments of the paths. I gave silent thanks to the kind souls who had left them for us, not knowing how we could have safely gotten down on our own.

We passed above a paved road after what felt like ages. The path we were on skirted the edges of a mined-out quarry, though no cars passed along the asphalt below. The sky was nearing proper twilight, and our daytime was measured in tens of minutes, rather than hours. M-sensei took point, he possessing the best night vision between the three of us.

Into the woods we plunged in single file, barely able to see the companion in front of us. I was in the middle, with K behind me. Our way was brisk, but more than a few times we stopped to prevent tragedy by way of misplaced step on a precarious mountain path.

As we neared one of the next landmarks, an East-West connector road, we all began to contemplate the cessation of our hike. Our destination was still a good hour off, and the path was becoming impossible to navigate safely. M-sensei declared a moratorium on any such talk until we reached the road, though. After a harrowing half hour in almost total darkness, we hopped down a short ridge to find ourselves on Road 36.

Before us lay a long fence, beyond which we knew was a golf course. Behind us lay the mountains we'd just crossed through. To the east lay, eventually, Hitachi-Taga, and to our west were the unknown mountain lands of Japan. The team agreed that it was too dark to continue, so we looked for a way to get back home.

My suggestions of following the road were voted down, given the suicidal lack of a pedestrian lane, and the curiously regular volume of vehicular traffic. The darkness only added to the potential lethality. We headed into the golf course, walking along its main road, hoping to find another road on the far side to follow into town. We reached the club house after a few minutes and saw a few lights burning. We looked around for the course's road, but found that we had hit a dead end.

About this time one of the caretakers poked his head out of the window and asked what we were doing. Again I was volunteered to talk, and told the man about our situation. We'd walked through the mountains and were trying to get back to Hitachi. By now the entire caretaker staff, some five souls, had converged on the location where this was happening. He and the rest of the staff put their heads together, and after a few seconds deliberation, two of them offered to drive us back to Hitachi.

We couldn't believe our luck, and accepted with many thanks. A small sedan was wheeled around, driven by a young man who spoke a bit of English. An older gentleman rode shotgun, and we three hikers piled into the back seat. We set off down Road 36, eastward, into the city. Our kind benefactors had intended to take us all the way back to Hitachi, but we three agreed such kindness, though very thoughtful, was not needed. I managed to determine our location as being very close to Hitachi-Taga station, and requested we be dropped off there. A few minutes later, we arrived at the station. I snapped a quick picture of our drivers, and after another round of astonished thanks, we parted ways.

We purchased tickets for the next northbound train and waited for it to arrive. The night was quite deep now, and cool. The train came soon enough, and we got back to Hitachi without trouble.

I took a cab back home, not trusting my weary legs to hold out for the walk home. Besides, I'd left my bike at home that morning. Minutes later I trudged my way up the stairs of my apartment building. The shower I took was sinfully hot, filling my cold flesh with delicious, soothing warmth.

I haven't slept so well in many, many months.