looking back in the blog and my mind - not far either - it seems a little surreal that i was in the southern most guts of japan just 1 week ago. weird how the mind processes time (or maybe in russia time processes mind?); like maybe the mind gets used to a rate of a certain amount of new experiences/information per day, when you start doing something totally new it just makes time perception elongate. yakushima is a distance little verdant memory, far off in space/time, and now all there is is grey skies, concrete apartment blocks, shelf toilets, "bochka" beer.
on a side note, i think my pronunciation of russian is ludicrously poor and completely hindered by the fact whenever i try to speak a foreign language, i basically try to speak japanese.
6.30.2010
vladivostok
seeing that i have been here 24 hrs +, ergo, as foremost expert, i expound upon above subject.
vladivostok basically looks like what i expected/read about; so far its been shrouded in mist, a compact grey and soviet port city. i feel like the mass of nautical structures/ships outweigh that of terrestrial.
in other ways its been totally different. russians are, in fact, much nicer and generally good natured than usually portrayed in popular american cinema. interacting has been pretty pleasant so far; got yelled at a few times by like grabbing things off store shops. i guess in russia, you ask the store peeps to fetch things for you. i guess this cuts down on shop lifting? not that people are really polite to you; but, i guess, not nearly as formidable as i imagined; although today this guy in a uniform, i think, tried his hand at trying to scam us into trying to bribe him? not sure, he was in a cop-esque uniform (dont know what actual cop even looks like, but i suspect they look more military, ie,, have camo) and he came and i think he was trying to ask for our papers (me and some other dudes from the hostel), but we just played russian-speakie dumb and was nice and he went off on his way eventually.
also, russian women here are fucking hot. i suppose this has been supposed by many before, but, theres these certain slavic/monogoloid/caucasian mixes which gives men a visceral appreciation for the word 'heterozygous advantage". they have this way of dressing, like, the trailing edge of hipster fashion, except, like more skin tight and they walk in this way that suggest they might like to crush you balls, pa-zhalsta
vladivostok basically looks like what i expected/read about; so far its been shrouded in mist, a compact grey and soviet port city. i feel like the mass of nautical structures/ships outweigh that of terrestrial.
in other ways its been totally different. russians are, in fact, much nicer and generally good natured than usually portrayed in popular american cinema. interacting has been pretty pleasant so far; got yelled at a few times by like grabbing things off store shops. i guess in russia, you ask the store peeps to fetch things for you. i guess this cuts down on shop lifting? not that people are really polite to you; but, i guess, not nearly as formidable as i imagined; although today this guy in a uniform, i think, tried his hand at trying to scam us into trying to bribe him? not sure, he was in a cop-esque uniform (dont know what actual cop even looks like, but i suspect they look more military, ie,, have camo) and he came and i think he was trying to ask for our papers (me and some other dudes from the hostel), but we just played russian-speakie dumb and was nice and he went off on his way eventually.
also, russian women here are fucking hot. i suppose this has been supposed by many before, but, theres these certain slavic/monogoloid/caucasian mixes which gives men a visceral appreciation for the word 'heterozygous advantage". they have this way of dressing, like, the trailing edge of hipster fashion, except, like more skin tight and they walk in this way that suggest they might like to crush you balls, pa-zhalsta
6.28.2010
3 hours till vladivostok
traveling with these folks; husband and wife, husband is french, wife is argentinian, they are driving from Argentina to France. right now their car, a vintage volksvagon van, is in the hold and i guess they will drive through russia, mongolia
last night the operating director of the ship bought us all (by us all, i refer to a cluster of english speaking western european/american liberal-type backpackers impromptu clusters which inevitably aggregate together via shared language and general anti-thesis towards the policies of former gwb jr.) ; which was greatly appreciated by me and by all.
Although, my cynical though processes were telling me that he was doing this mainly for the single female backpacker types; later on a supermodel level russian/tartar girl of vladivostok origin who had been studying in korea joined us. her english was very good, and she held a key with a room number which meant she was staying at a fancy room instead of a bunk like the rest of us. it was revealed that the operating director, btw named "Vladimir Lee", had promoted her out of the kindness of his heart.
well whatever, free beer and snax, i am not judging/or complaining;i am grateful to the charm of women on this ship which inspired Mr. Lee, muse-like, to such acts of generosity.
last night the operating director of the ship bought us all (by us all, i refer to a cluster of english speaking western european/american liberal-type backpackers impromptu clusters which inevitably aggregate together via shared language and general anti-thesis towards the policies of former gwb jr.) ; which was greatly appreciated by me and by all.
Although, my cynical though processes were telling me that he was doing this mainly for the single female backpacker types; later on a supermodel level russian/tartar girl of vladivostok origin who had been studying in korea joined us. her english was very good, and she held a key with a room number which meant she was staying at a fancy room instead of a bunk like the rest of us. it was revealed that the operating director, btw named "Vladimir Lee", had promoted her out of the kindness of his heart.
well whatever, free beer and snax, i am not judging/or complaining;i am grateful to the charm of women on this ship which inspired Mr. Lee, muse-like, to such acts of generosity.
6.27.2010
on the boat
aboard the eastern dream; you tell its a new ferry company, the boat still looks nice and newly renovated -- you can also tell by the huge faux marble bas relief on the walls that interior decoration was done by koreans.
good stuff>>
free wifi
clean/new
cheap-esh (22,000 yen ~ 240 bux?)
nice sento (japanese public bath) with a view
onboard restaurant not to expensive.
nice onboard peeps
bad stuff>>
no place to put your luggage (what???? its a fucking boat, there must be sooo much storage)
not enough electrical outlets in the rooms
beer is 3 bux???? cmon dude, there no taxes on the sea -- its a fucking dollar on the other ferry
kind of too many people (maybe they will all get off in korea?)
hahaha
so in the waiting area, there is this kind of celebration, i think 1 year anniversary for the ferry company. a few dry speeches by old types in japanese, more are uninterested. but then, they like pull out 20 5 year old kids to sing in unison, and like everyone, russian, japanese, korean -- everyone gets together to cheer them on.
and also theres a contingent of high school students (japanese) going on the boat to pick up garbage from the ocean.
yes, this is the power of japan.
and also theres a contingent of high school students (japanese) going on the boat to pick up garbage from the ocean.
yes, this is the power of japan.
at the port
i finding myself trying to describe places in terms of other places that the person may be aware of. for instance, if i were describing Yakushima to you, i would say something like, "its like the galapagos, but maybe a little less wild, more populated, less tropical, a little more touristy". although, i've never been to the galapagos and and neither have you, and all i am really alluding to is some intra-liminal impression we have of the galapagos, a result of galapagian marketing and well meaning 2nd grade teachers wielding colorful picture books of animals from around the world.
Night before had a good many beers with old friends in Osaka soaked up by a 1 am bowl of ramen from a small smelly place tucked into an alley way off Kiyamachi St. just north of Shijou. Left this morning from Kyoto to Sakai-minato (minato = port, therefore, lit. "Port Sakai" -- i note this because i didn't realize this for a while, always telling my japanese friends "Saka-Imi-Nato", and getting blank looks, and then like, slowly understanding what my butchering mouf is trying to say), from whence the ferry departs, making a stop in Donghae before Vladivostok. .
The bus goes through this area called Tottori-ken (ken is like a county? or maybe state), which I have never been to, except that every once in awhile people make fun of it on TV as in, " as a TV personality being told to go places to do absurd things so people at home can laugh at me, Tottori-ken is the last place I would like to go." -- although I liked the bus ride. In most travel, we hop from nice places to nice places, expressly skipping the mundane areas which make up the actual backbone of the nation state; instead preferring the hyper modern cosmopolitanism of tokyo, the indefatigable culture of kyoto, mystical beauty of yakushima -- even the vivacious urbanity of Osaka.
But, basically, Tottori-ken, is, uhh, like the New Jersey -- a place I think you and I have both been, face to face, or at least, nose to armpit of America -- and I have a certain affinity for places like this. Anyway, at the port complex, where theres is plenty of wifi (read: live blood of modern human being). The ticketing woman is obviously russian but speaks perfect Japanese (better than her english), and is, in fact, out japanese-ing japanese receptionist ladies in terms of politeness, both in speech and manner. her motions are precise, slow, measured like someone doing the tea ceremony. she bows low after handing me my ticket even though i've shown her my american passport and she should know that i, and my fellow countrymen, don;t/doesnt really appreciate stuff like this.
Night before had a good many beers with old friends in Osaka soaked up by a 1 am bowl of ramen from a small smelly place tucked into an alley way off Kiyamachi St. just north of Shijou. Left this morning from Kyoto to Sakai-minato (minato = port, therefore, lit. "Port Sakai" -- i note this because i didn't realize this for a while, always telling my japanese friends "Saka-Imi-Nato", and getting blank looks, and then like, slowly understanding what my butchering mouf is trying to say), from whence the ferry departs, making a stop in Donghae before Vladivostok. .
The bus goes through this area called Tottori-ken (ken is like a county? or maybe state), which I have never been to, except that every once in awhile people make fun of it on TV as in, " as a TV personality being told to go places to do absurd things so people at home can laugh at me, Tottori-ken is the last place I would like to go." -- although I liked the bus ride. In most travel, we hop from nice places to nice places, expressly skipping the mundane areas which make up the actual backbone of the nation state; instead preferring the hyper modern cosmopolitanism of tokyo, the indefatigable culture of kyoto, mystical beauty of yakushima -- even the vivacious urbanity of Osaka.
But, basically, Tottori-ken, is, uhh, like the New Jersey -- a place I think you and I have both been, face to face, or at least, nose to armpit of America -- and I have a certain affinity for places like this. Anyway, at the port complex, where theres is plenty of wifi (read: live blood of modern human being). The ticketing woman is obviously russian but speaks perfect Japanese (better than her english), and is, in fact, out japanese-ing japanese receptionist ladies in terms of politeness, both in speech and manner. her motions are precise, slow, measured like someone doing the tea ceremony. she bows low after handing me my ticket even though i've shown her my american passport and she should know that i, and my fellow countrymen, don;t/doesnt really appreciate stuff like this.
6.24.2010
why infinite jest is the ideal travel book
ok, so at 1000+ pages and roughly 5"x10", it sits like a brick, perhaps two, in the backpack; but considering my pack is between 30-40 lbs already, percentage wise, its not really too bad. indeed, the thickness of the book makes it an ideal pillow when a shirt is put on top of it.
it also seems to impress japanese people, who seem uniformly taken aback by its substantialness; perhaps they, already shy of the english language, feel some sort of animal anxiety / anguish just at the thought of the volume of vocabulary, idioms, grammatical exceptions contained in this tome. maybe its like someone afraid of water staring into the marianas trench.
of course, the main comfort is knowing there is an almost infinite (ha) amount of dense erudition available at hand as the minutes and hours of travel burns into ones idle soul.
it also seems to impress japanese people, who seem uniformly taken aback by its substantialness; perhaps they, already shy of the english language, feel some sort of animal anxiety / anguish just at the thought of the volume of vocabulary, idioms, grammatical exceptions contained in this tome. maybe its like someone afraid of water staring into the marianas trench.
of course, the main comfort is knowing there is an almost infinite (ha) amount of dense erudition available at hand as the minutes and hours of travel burns into ones idle soul.
6.23.2010
casual observation of various social groups in yakushima
yakushima est omnis divisa in partes tres: native locals, tourist, and hippies types
tourists, of all sorts; mostly japanese, but plenty of western travelers as well. not too many non-japanese non-westerners (n.b. i didn't take a poll, just my incomplete observation). it was in the early 90s, when the parts of the island received UNESCO protected, that tourists first started to come - but the crowds didn't really start to gather until made famous by princess mononoke.
i asked ashley's friend kazuki, who was born&raised yakushima (ie, native local), if the economy has gotten better as a result. my impression is that people here are pretty poor (relative to the rest of japan), although price levels (like restaurants and such) are high (due to tourism?). kazuki said that the economy hasn't gotten any better; people who previously worked in forestry (ie, cutting trees), shifted to tourism. in one sense, there was much choice, since much of the forest is now protected. he said lots of people open up their houses as guest houses, the minshuku (and indeed there seems to be guest houses every fucking where).
i get the sense that true locals have a complex relationship with tourists; on one hand they depend on them economically, yet the number of people going into the mountains is starting to get absurd, and the worry of environmental damage is real. even with the conscientious, rule abiding japanese tourist, the sheer number of them marching through the hills must have its affects.
this island also seems to be a place where hippies-type, lets say, non traditional japanese types, like to come and live a back-to the land / farming commune / simpler days sort of life. for example, there is a permaculture farm / butoh workshop area 2 towns to the west -- which, i admit, its kind of right up my alley; but they are currently touring in europe.
for such a small remote island (and perhaps because of it), there quite a few interesting places hidden about. the best was this guy who runs a guest house pretty well tucked into the woods; he makes you a traditional indian dinner if you reserve in advance. the food is really exceptional, nothing like indian food you get in restaurants, rather, exactly like the kind you get if you go to a indian friends house and have his mom cook for you. it comes with all the little side dishes/chutneys and a thermos of delicious chai. his house is filled with interesting books/documents/old japanese hippie news/magz from the 70s.
he lives in a an old wooden house which is bit of a marvel itself. Its a big open place, with huge wooden sliding doors which, when open, makes the place seem more like one big porch, than a house. the entire structure is held together by wood joints -- ie, no nails or screws.
although i wonder how he gets along with termites, which, btw, is an epic problem here. (as a result many of the houses here are ugly concrete blocks). There was one humid night when the air was completely filled, in a biblical way, with termite drones, clouds of them illuminated by street lights/head lights; i held my breath a little, just in case i breathed them in.
tourists, of all sorts; mostly japanese, but plenty of western travelers as well. not too many non-japanese non-westerners (n.b. i didn't take a poll, just my incomplete observation). it was in the early 90s, when the parts of the island received UNESCO protected, that tourists first started to come - but the crowds didn't really start to gather until made famous by princess mononoke.
i asked ashley's friend kazuki, who was born&raised yakushima (ie, native local), if the economy has gotten better as a result. my impression is that people here are pretty poor (relative to the rest of japan), although price levels (like restaurants and such) are high (due to tourism?). kazuki said that the economy hasn't gotten any better; people who previously worked in forestry (ie, cutting trees), shifted to tourism. in one sense, there was much choice, since much of the forest is now protected. he said lots of people open up their houses as guest houses, the minshuku (and indeed there seems to be guest houses every fucking where).
i get the sense that true locals have a complex relationship with tourists; on one hand they depend on them economically, yet the number of people going into the mountains is starting to get absurd, and the worry of environmental damage is real. even with the conscientious, rule abiding japanese tourist, the sheer number of them marching through the hills must have its affects.
this island also seems to be a place where hippies-type, lets say, non traditional japanese types, like to come and live a back-to the land / farming commune / simpler days sort of life. for example, there is a permaculture farm / butoh workshop area 2 towns to the west -- which, i admit, its kind of right up my alley; but they are currently touring in europe.
for such a small remote island (and perhaps because of it), there quite a few interesting places hidden about. the best was this guy who runs a guest house pretty well tucked into the woods; he makes you a traditional indian dinner if you reserve in advance. the food is really exceptional, nothing like indian food you get in restaurants, rather, exactly like the kind you get if you go to a indian friends house and have his mom cook for you. it comes with all the little side dishes/chutneys and a thermos of delicious chai. his house is filled with interesting books/documents/old japanese hippie news/magz from the 70s.
he lives in a an old wooden house which is bit of a marvel itself. Its a big open place, with huge wooden sliding doors which, when open, makes the place seem more like one big porch, than a house. the entire structure is held together by wood joints -- ie, no nails or screws.
although i wonder how he gets along with termites, which, btw, is an epic problem here. (as a result many of the houses here are ugly concrete blocks). There was one humid night when the air was completely filled, in a biblical way, with termite drones, clouds of them illuminated by street lights/head lights; i held my breath a little, just in case i breathed them in.
6.16.2010
no possibility of dryness
the monsoon is upon us here in yakushima, already the wettest place in japan; as of today the new channels basically stopped trying to forecast the weather, just saying that its going to be humid and sticky, with sudden flash storms coming whenever the fuck they want, like, for the next few weeks.
but for all its grossness, this season always strikes up a deep nostalgia - reminds me of shanghai. south eastern asians must all have some quarter sense for humidity, or at least humidity memory. in the states it would only get like this a few times in a summer and i would have these unexpected epiphanies of de ja vu.
anyway, i took advantage of yesterday, which the news people touted as the Last Nice Day, and went out fishing. Some more success, caught a grip of hand sized tropical fish. i threw them all back unsure of their edibility, just to see them on sale later at the supermarket. i had a good time though, first time in a while when i slipped into that exquisit zen state when the baiting of hooks, the cast of rigs is subliminal and time is annihilated. i only took notice when i realized that the back of my neck was getting sunburnt.
i sea turtle came by to say hello, it was kind of the sweetest thing.
but for all its grossness, this season always strikes up a deep nostalgia - reminds me of shanghai. south eastern asians must all have some quarter sense for humidity, or at least humidity memory. in the states it would only get like this a few times in a summer and i would have these unexpected epiphanies of de ja vu.
anyway, i took advantage of yesterday, which the news people touted as the Last Nice Day, and went out fishing. Some more success, caught a grip of hand sized tropical fish. i threw them all back unsure of their edibility, just to see them on sale later at the supermarket. i had a good time though, first time in a while when i slipped into that exquisit zen state when the baiting of hooks, the cast of rigs is subliminal and time is annihilated. i only took notice when i realized that the back of my neck was getting sunburnt.
i sea turtle came by to say hello, it was kind of the sweetest thing.
6.15.2010
& now for something completely different
while knifing this wee little fish i caught yesterday, i unexpectedly thought of saddam hussein. two thoughts came forward at approximately the same time: the fantasy painting that they found in his "love shack" and a mental amalgamation of his last few days before hanging. i only know of either of these because both the painting and saddams last days were featured prominently in the news
my immediate impression of these two juxtaposed memories was of a man who was suddenly realizing, wide eyed, that an unexpectedly large wave was rolling towards him, about to tear his world asunder without so much as a rubber ducky to grab on to. in all the news articles he displayed such a consistent presentation of confusion, as if he couldn't understand at all why people were trying to kill him. and in fact when they did hang him i remember feeling a pang of sympathy for this murderous autocratic who was, to me, actually only a holograph composed from various news flashes of a murderous autocrat. (although, in addition to this pang, i remember thinking that at last the person in charge is being held accountable)*
there is absurdity inherent in tragedy.
anyway, i felt bad about the fish too -- for which i had to google how to scale, gut, cut two grooves along the spine so that when i battered it tempura mix and fried it, the flesh wouldn't curl -- and considered if i ought to go veg. probably not tho.
*addendum: just to clarify my position on the execution itself -- my opinion on capital punishment is that it is inhumane and it perpetuates, by its very action and as well its affects, more violence. furthermore, the way this execution was carried out reeked of retribution and hate (but maybe that is a more "honest" form of execution?).
however, in reference to what i wrote in the parentheses about the person in charge being held accountable, i quote saddam's final letter, which has an eloquence which his life did not:
my immediate impression of these two juxtaposed memories was of a man who was suddenly realizing, wide eyed, that an unexpectedly large wave was rolling towards him, about to tear his world asunder without so much as a rubber ducky to grab on to. in all the news articles he displayed such a consistent presentation of confusion, as if he couldn't understand at all why people were trying to kill him. and in fact when they did hang him i remember feeling a pang of sympathy for this murderous autocratic who was, to me, actually only a holograph composed from various news flashes of a murderous autocrat. (although, in addition to this pang, i remember thinking that at last the person in charge is being held accountable)*
there is absurdity inherent in tragedy.
anyway, i felt bad about the fish too -- for which i had to google how to scale, gut, cut two grooves along the spine so that when i battered it tempura mix and fried it, the flesh wouldn't curl -- and considered if i ought to go veg. probably not tho.
*addendum: just to clarify my position on the execution itself -- my opinion on capital punishment is that it is inhumane and it perpetuates, by its very action and as well its affects, more violence. furthermore, the way this execution was carried out reeked of retribution and hate (but maybe that is a more "honest" form of execution?).
however, in reference to what i wrote in the parentheses about the person in charge being held accountable, i quote saddam's final letter, which has an eloquence which his life did not:
"Remember that God has enabled you to become an example of love, forgiveness and brotherly coexistence ... I call on you not to hate because hate does not leave a space for a person to be fair and it makes you blind and closes all doors of thinking and keeps away one from balanced thinking and making the right choice.
I also call on you not to hate the peoples of the other countries that attacked us and differentiate between the decision-makers and peoples. Anyone who repents - whether in Iraq or abroad - you must forgive him.."
6.08.2010
totally useful shit
so i thought i'd write a little "lessons learned" post.
the proposed route was/is to fly from new york to tokyo, make my way to yakushima in the south of japan, hang out there for a while, then go back up to the kyoto/osaka area and take a ferry to russia. in russia, take the train to lake baikal, then train down to mongolia, kick around there for a while, train down again to beijing/shanghai in china.
VISA
russian: the russian visa is expensive and a pain in the ass. even for the 30 day tourist visa, you need a letter of invitation (from a hotel, tour agency, etc). you can google about it and theres various ways to get the visa, but frankly, by far the best way is to go full service (i used russia-visa.com). They will charge ~40 bucks over the price of the visa to get you the invitation and go to the consulate for you. you only have to mail it to them and wait ~2 weeks (10 business days). best money you will ever spend.
chinese: if you are in a city that has consulate, its a pretty straight forward process of getting your picture, filling out the form. the only part in the form you have to think about is where they ask where you are going to stay -- just pick a big hotel. the visa is expensive, 130 bucks for americans, oh well. i got this visa myself, but if the consulate is a hard to get to for you, just go with a service for chrissakes.
GETTING AROUND IN JAPAN
the trains in japan are convenient, fast, and comfortable although a little bit expensive. if you plan on taking the trains i suggest getting the rail pass (which you have to buy outside of japan before you come) ... the 7-day rail pass is ~400 buck right now. if you plan on traveling via train at all, get this pass.
i've taken the trains a bunch before, so this time i though i would try using the buses for fun and profit. its a bit more annoying, requires some japanese ability. i took the JR bus from tokyo to kyoto -- the easiest way is to go to the "green window" (midori no madoguchi) offices that exist in every major station. the bus itself was really nice and comfy, way better than the peter pan/greyhound bullshit, but slow as shit. 7 hrs to get to kyoto vs 2 hrs on the shinkansen. i think you can just get a ticket at the bus station too, i have this feeling that buses are rarely full (except during national holidays).
for the bus to kagoshima i had to call to make a reservation. conversing in japanese on the phone is kind of rough and made me realise how much i rely on the non-verbal aspects of face to face conversation. the bus is takes 12 hours overnight, and again, very comfortable. actually worked out really really well. i was out drinking with friends right next to the bus station, got several beers in me, got on, took a klonopin and passed the fuck out. the bus took me directly to the ferry station (you need mention when you reserve that you want to go to the ferry), and i was on the boat within 15 minutes.
FERRY TO RUSSIA
If you google the ferry from Japan to Russia, the first hits you get are about a ferry which leaves from Fushiki to Vladivostok. Theres a lot of websites which refer to this ferry service (http://www.bisintour.com/), and in fact, up till last year, this was the ferry. so i am going to write in caps now that THIS FERRY IS NO LONGER OPERATING. after emailing them, i found out that the ferry has been sold and is now operating in the baltics.
THE FERRY THAT IS CURRENTLY OPERATING is called the "Eastern Dream" and is the one run by the DBS Cruise Ferry company, which runs from Sakaiminato in Tottori-ken (this is like 3 hours northwest of kyoto) to Vladivostok. The website is in Korean, Russian or Japanese and its kind of really annoying to use. So here is all the relavent facts
tickets: call 81-859-30-2332 for reservation from japan. more info
prices: 22,000 yen for a 8 bunk room. theres all kind of other options, like the presidential room. full price schedule
schedule: leaves every sunday at 7pm. arrives in Vladivostok at noon on Tuesday. On monday it makes a quick stop in Korea (place called Donghae) more info
again you will need some japanese to make the reservation, but, i also think you can just show up and buy the ticket at the port the day of -- at worst they put you up in the engine room or something.
the proposed route was/is to fly from new york to tokyo, make my way to yakushima in the south of japan, hang out there for a while, then go back up to the kyoto/osaka area and take a ferry to russia. in russia, take the train to lake baikal, then train down to mongolia, kick around there for a while, train down again to beijing/shanghai in china.
VISA
russian: the russian visa is expensive and a pain in the ass. even for the 30 day tourist visa, you need a letter of invitation (from a hotel, tour agency, etc). you can google about it and theres various ways to get the visa, but frankly, by far the best way is to go full service (i used russia-visa.com). They will charge ~40 bucks over the price of the visa to get you the invitation and go to the consulate for you. you only have to mail it to them and wait ~2 weeks (10 business days). best money you will ever spend.
chinese: if you are in a city that has consulate, its a pretty straight forward process of getting your picture, filling out the form. the only part in the form you have to think about is where they ask where you are going to stay -- just pick a big hotel. the visa is expensive, 130 bucks for americans, oh well. i got this visa myself, but if the consulate is a hard to get to for you, just go with a service for chrissakes.
GETTING AROUND IN JAPAN
the trains in japan are convenient, fast, and comfortable although a little bit expensive. if you plan on taking the trains i suggest getting the rail pass (which you have to buy outside of japan before you come) ... the 7-day rail pass is ~400 buck right now. if you plan on traveling via train at all, get this pass.
i've taken the trains a bunch before, so this time i though i would try using the buses for fun and profit. its a bit more annoying, requires some japanese ability. i took the JR bus from tokyo to kyoto -- the easiest way is to go to the "green window" (midori no madoguchi) offices that exist in every major station. the bus itself was really nice and comfy, way better than the peter pan/greyhound bullshit, but slow as shit. 7 hrs to get to kyoto vs 2 hrs on the shinkansen. i think you can just get a ticket at the bus station too, i have this feeling that buses are rarely full (except during national holidays).
for the bus to kagoshima i had to call to make a reservation. conversing in japanese on the phone is kind of rough and made me realise how much i rely on the non-verbal aspects of face to face conversation. the bus is takes 12 hours overnight, and again, very comfortable. actually worked out really really well. i was out drinking with friends right next to the bus station, got several beers in me, got on, took a klonopin and passed the fuck out. the bus took me directly to the ferry station (you need mention when you reserve that you want to go to the ferry), and i was on the boat within 15 minutes.
FERRY TO RUSSIA
If you google the ferry from Japan to Russia, the first hits you get are about a ferry which leaves from Fushiki to Vladivostok. Theres a lot of websites which refer to this ferry service (http://www.bisintour.com/), and in fact, up till last year, this was the ferry. so i am going to write in caps now that THIS FERRY IS NO LONGER OPERATING. after emailing them, i found out that the ferry has been sold and is now operating in the baltics.
THE FERRY THAT IS CURRENTLY OPERATING is called the "Eastern Dream" and is the one run by the DBS Cruise Ferry company, which runs from Sakaiminato in Tottori-ken (this is like 3 hours northwest of kyoto) to Vladivostok. The website is in Korean, Russian or Japanese and its kind of really annoying to use. So here is all the relavent facts
tickets: call 81-859-30-2332 for reservation from japan. more info
prices: 22,000 yen for a 8 bunk room. theres all kind of other options, like the presidential room. full price schedule
schedule: leaves every sunday at 7pm. arrives in Vladivostok at noon on Tuesday. On monday it makes a quick stop in Korea (place called Donghae) more info
again you will need some japanese to make the reservation, but, i also think you can just show up and buy the ticket at the port the day of -- at worst they put you up in the engine room or something.
jomon sugi - we encounter the fauna of the island
Ashley and I did the Jomon Sugi hike this weekend. This trail is probably the most famous and popular one on the island; Jomon Sugi is the oldest cryptomeria japonica (Japanese Cedar) on this island of ancient cryptomeria japonicas and is between 2000 (according to core sample) to 7000 (according to size) years old.
As such it is revered by a small army of Japanese tourists who convene upon it daily, rain or shine. They rise up at 4 am, uniformly and comprehensively equipped with spandex, rain gear, walking poles, propane tanks, pots and pans, noodles, packets of curry, the newest hiking boots, etc., etc., to be led by energetic guides into the heart of the island. Although most of them are not even staying the night in the mountains, they look equipped for some sort of divine natural catastrophe. This army is disproportionally old, retired, which, incidentally, is probably true of Japan in general.
GOD DAMNED MONKEYS
Walking on the auto path leading up to the trailhead, we encountered a whole mess of monkeys. Previous experience with the monkeys on this island made me think they were basically the friendly, cute sort; not only where they fuzzy, they were Japanese as well, two reliable markers of harmlessness.
So I approached them with the general, “aw, monkey dudes” attitude and didn’t notice, until Ashley mentioned it, that the biggest alpha male fucker was staring me down with bared pearly whites. “Don’t make eye contact with him”, she said, a bit too late, since I had been looking back at him, thinking, “This fucking twerp is like ¼ size of me”. Then the brute started on this low growl, which reminded me of a story I read about a woman who had her face ripped off by a chimp.
We started to back away, kind of looking at the space around the monkeys while trying to monitor them through peripheral vision. I was hoping that after giving them a wide berth, they would move on. Instead the alpha male eerily followed, staring at us intently the whole time. Then the rest of the pack came with him, about 20 or so monkeys; perhaps emboldened by our cowardice, a few other big lower echelon beta males and some scrawny teenager types also started giving us nasty looks.
At this point my hackles were pretty raised and I rummage around the side of the road for a cudgel, swung it around a few times, wishing that instead of a stick, I had an AK-47, or maybe a shotgun, an elephant rifle modified into a hand gun (used with great effectiveness by Charles Bronson in Death Wish 3 to unburden this world of a few thugs; and these monkeys were most certainly thugs), or any of the other manifold human inventions which put us above the animals. And I was sure that if I could just put a few lead slugs right though this punks bared, salivating, teeth, knocking his incisors straight through his relatively well developed brain (hopefully, developed enough to rue the day), the explosive sound of a gun going off and the visage of the alpha males head exploding into crimson mist, his decapitated body first tottering around, as if drunk, and then toppling over, would be enough to scatter the pack.
But what ended up happening was that Ashley made some noise by banging our sticks against a railing (somewhat effective), waited some more and decided to try to walk quickly, but firmly, through the monkey gauntlet. Our walking soon broke into a light jog as we realized that the alpha monkey was definitely running after us. For about 20 seconds it seemed like more and more monkeys (big ones, little ones, all) were just appearing out of the trees just to give us chase and the jog turned to full on run and it just seemed like a scene from a shitty horror movie. At some point there weren’t anymore anus-faced primates behind us anymore, and we stopped, out of breadth, embarrassed and kind of exhilarated.
OF MICE AND DEER
Nothing too eventful happened on the rest of the hike; no more monkeys. Most of the trail followed a portion of a small gauge mountain railroad that winds throughout the mountain. The forest was, of course, stunning and even the weather cleared up. We started the hike much later than any reasonable Japanese tourist ever would so the only people we met were coming down the mountain. We reached Jomon Sugi about 1 hour before it got dark, pretty tired; it turned out to be a pretty optimal time to arrive, and we were alone with the tree, not a single other tourist in sight.
About 10 minutes from the tree, there is a nice little mountain hut, just a concrete box with some bunks you can spread your sleeping bag on. Theoretically fits 20 people (if crammed like sardines), but that night there were just 3 other people in it, and we basically took up the entire upper area of the bunk. Ashley and I tucked into a dinner made unreasonably delicious by caloric deficiency and watched a beautiful sunset from a window that pointed directly west. I went outside for a smoke, pissed (also pointed west) and pondered the glory of the dying day.
When I got inside the other 3 people, a guide and two youngish women, were already getting ready for bed; they said something about getting up at 5 am so they could be the first people at Jomon Sugi. We were pretty beat too and I think everyone was tucked in by 9. It was kind of a rough night though, because there were all these incredibly cute but annoying mice everywhere. All you heard in the dead silence of the night was their feverish scampering, the ripping and chewing of plastic bags; every once in a while one would scurry around my head and I’d jerk my head around just to let it know a bigger animal was still awake and pissed off.
Eventually I did get some sleep. At 5 am, the other people left (although first they let their alarm go off for like 5 minutes). I think they made French toast or something because I vaguely remember the sweet smell of toast, honey, and butter. It was a brisk morning, cold enough to see your breath, and getting out of our warm sleeping bags was tough. We didn’t really get up until like 8, and that as only after a battalion of Japanese tourists from some other part of the forest came through and peeked into the hut, surprised to find anyone so lazy as to be still be asleep at such a late hour.
When I finally went outside to piss there was this deer waiting for me outside. It was in my way and wouldn’t budge, and honestly, it seemed like it wanted to come in, it kept trying to stick its head in. I sort of pushed it aside and closed the door, and walked generally into the bushes. When I unzipped, I realized that the deer was right behind me watching me pee. And then when I finished, it started to lick my pee spot, I assume for salt. I went back inside the hut to eat a righteous breakfast and pack up. The whole time we heard some whining at the door, which I assumed was the deer again. At some point more curious Japanese popped their heads in. Anyway, we packed up and headed back.
By the time we got to Jomon Sugi again (like 8:45) there was already a mob of geriatric tourist brandishing a small fortune in camera equipment in the verdant morning light. They started the hike form below at 4 am or so, which meant they had probably been up since 3 am.
The hike back was nice, it was supposed to rain but it was all sunshine and sweetness. There was a lot of traffic on the paths; we saw a gnarly looking snake that some old Japanese men beat back into the bushes with a walking stick.
As such it is revered by a small army of Japanese tourists who convene upon it daily, rain or shine. They rise up at 4 am, uniformly and comprehensively equipped with spandex, rain gear, walking poles, propane tanks, pots and pans, noodles, packets of curry, the newest hiking boots, etc., etc., to be led by energetic guides into the heart of the island. Although most of them are not even staying the night in the mountains, they look equipped for some sort of divine natural catastrophe. This army is disproportionally old, retired, which, incidentally, is probably true of Japan in general.
GOD DAMNED MONKEYS
Walking on the auto path leading up to the trailhead, we encountered a whole mess of monkeys. Previous experience with the monkeys on this island made me think they were basically the friendly, cute sort; not only where they fuzzy, they were Japanese as well, two reliable markers of harmlessness.
So I approached them with the general, “aw, monkey dudes” attitude and didn’t notice, until Ashley mentioned it, that the biggest alpha male fucker was staring me down with bared pearly whites. “Don’t make eye contact with him”, she said, a bit too late, since I had been looking back at him, thinking, “This fucking twerp is like ¼ size of me”. Then the brute started on this low growl, which reminded me of a story I read about a woman who had her face ripped off by a chimp.
We started to back away, kind of looking at the space around the monkeys while trying to monitor them through peripheral vision. I was hoping that after giving them a wide berth, they would move on. Instead the alpha male eerily followed, staring at us intently the whole time. Then the rest of the pack came with him, about 20 or so monkeys; perhaps emboldened by our cowardice, a few other big lower echelon beta males and some scrawny teenager types also started giving us nasty looks.
At this point my hackles were pretty raised and I rummage around the side of the road for a cudgel, swung it around a few times, wishing that instead of a stick, I had an AK-47, or maybe a shotgun, an elephant rifle modified into a hand gun (used with great effectiveness by Charles Bronson in Death Wish 3 to unburden this world of a few thugs; and these monkeys were most certainly thugs), or any of the other manifold human inventions which put us above the animals. And I was sure that if I could just put a few lead slugs right though this punks bared, salivating, teeth, knocking his incisors straight through his relatively well developed brain (hopefully, developed enough to rue the day), the explosive sound of a gun going off and the visage of the alpha males head exploding into crimson mist, his decapitated body first tottering around, as if drunk, and then toppling over, would be enough to scatter the pack.
But what ended up happening was that Ashley made some noise by banging our sticks against a railing (somewhat effective), waited some more and decided to try to walk quickly, but firmly, through the monkey gauntlet. Our walking soon broke into a light jog as we realized that the alpha monkey was definitely running after us. For about 20 seconds it seemed like more and more monkeys (big ones, little ones, all) were just appearing out of the trees just to give us chase and the jog turned to full on run and it just seemed like a scene from a shitty horror movie. At some point there weren’t anymore anus-faced primates behind us anymore, and we stopped, out of breadth, embarrassed and kind of exhilarated.
OF MICE AND DEER
Nothing too eventful happened on the rest of the hike; no more monkeys. Most of the trail followed a portion of a small gauge mountain railroad that winds throughout the mountain. The forest was, of course, stunning and even the weather cleared up. We started the hike much later than any reasonable Japanese tourist ever would so the only people we met were coming down the mountain. We reached Jomon Sugi about 1 hour before it got dark, pretty tired; it turned out to be a pretty optimal time to arrive, and we were alone with the tree, not a single other tourist in sight.
About 10 minutes from the tree, there is a nice little mountain hut, just a concrete box with some bunks you can spread your sleeping bag on. Theoretically fits 20 people (if crammed like sardines), but that night there were just 3 other people in it, and we basically took up the entire upper area of the bunk. Ashley and I tucked into a dinner made unreasonably delicious by caloric deficiency and watched a beautiful sunset from a window that pointed directly west. I went outside for a smoke, pissed (also pointed west) and pondered the glory of the dying day.
When I got inside the other 3 people, a guide and two youngish women, were already getting ready for bed; they said something about getting up at 5 am so they could be the first people at Jomon Sugi. We were pretty beat too and I think everyone was tucked in by 9. It was kind of a rough night though, because there were all these incredibly cute but annoying mice everywhere. All you heard in the dead silence of the night was their feverish scampering, the ripping and chewing of plastic bags; every once in a while one would scurry around my head and I’d jerk my head around just to let it know a bigger animal was still awake and pissed off.
Eventually I did get some sleep. At 5 am, the other people left (although first they let their alarm go off for like 5 minutes). I think they made French toast or something because I vaguely remember the sweet smell of toast, honey, and butter. It was a brisk morning, cold enough to see your breath, and getting out of our warm sleeping bags was tough. We didn’t really get up until like 8, and that as only after a battalion of Japanese tourists from some other part of the forest came through and peeked into the hut, surprised to find anyone so lazy as to be still be asleep at such a late hour.
When I finally went outside to piss there was this deer waiting for me outside. It was in my way and wouldn’t budge, and honestly, it seemed like it wanted to come in, it kept trying to stick its head in. I sort of pushed it aside and closed the door, and walked generally into the bushes. When I unzipped, I realized that the deer was right behind me watching me pee. And then when I finished, it started to lick my pee spot, I assume for salt. I went back inside the hut to eat a righteous breakfast and pack up. The whole time we heard some whining at the door, which I assumed was the deer again. At some point more curious Japanese popped their heads in. Anyway, we packed up and headed back.
By the time we got to Jomon Sugi again (like 8:45) there was already a mob of geriatric tourist brandishing a small fortune in camera equipment in the verdant morning light. They started the hike form below at 4 am or so, which meant they had probably been up since 3 am.
The hike back was nice, it was supposed to rain but it was all sunshine and sweetness. There was a lot of traffic on the paths; we saw a gnarly looking snake that some old Japanese men beat back into the bushes with a walking stick.
6.03.2010
languages
phew, russian is difficult, Cyrillic is weird, the grammar is haphazard (although, theoretically much simpler than English). I have, regardless, this perverse interest now to really learn Russian; would be an interesting mix of languages for me, japanese, chinese, russian, english -- not a single language even within the same linguistic family as the other.
grammatically i really love japanese. everything makes sense, theres not many exceptions, yes perhaps there are many dimensions and the levels of politeness seem infinitely intricate, but it all fits together very snuggly. a lot of times i think that learning japanese was really helpful for computer science even -- ie, programming languages are, as a rule, very grammatically tight. in japanese, every part of speech is marked by a particle. granted in spoken japanese, these are dropped all the time, etc; but, in its strictest form, the grammar is extremely precise in delineating meaning.
anyway, been jawing russian at the cat, intermittently watching japanese tv, reading/writing english websites; its all kind of giving me a headache, but its all very horrowshow, darou
grammatically i really love japanese. everything makes sense, theres not many exceptions, yes perhaps there are many dimensions and the levels of politeness seem infinitely intricate, but it all fits together very snuggly. a lot of times i think that learning japanese was really helpful for computer science even -- ie, programming languages are, as a rule, very grammatically tight. in japanese, every part of speech is marked by a particle. granted in spoken japanese, these are dropped all the time, etc; but, in its strictest form, the grammar is extremely precise in delineating meaning.
anyway, been jawing russian at the cat, intermittently watching japanese tv, reading/writing english websites; its all kind of giving me a headache, but its all very horrowshow, darou
6.01.2010
stuff within a thing without an object inside a whatever, whatever
injured my achilles tendon a few days ago, probably just from repetitive stress; its nothing serious, just the beginnings of tendonitis, ran enough high school track to know this feeling. thats means no hiking for until it healed. stayed indoors all day, studying russian, hanging out with the cat, organizing pictures, watching too much japanese tv geared towards housewives (pretty much the house dude right now though). learned how to make the perfect lemon chicken today*!
felt the day slipping past me and went out, crossed the street and into the beach. the day was blustery, sunny and cool by the beach, the tide pools were full of little trapped fish. there was this one really deep pool with some sort of tropical fish with electric blue stripes, darting desperately in its narrow berth to hide from me. looking back at the mountains, it looked like a storm was brewing, the peaks were obtenebrated by thick, gray clouds which projected out just shy of the beach. the ocean was frothing pretty energetically; i crept out on a rock and a wave soaked me up to my balls.
odd thing about living in a vacation spot -- always feel like you ought to be out doing something awesome. but its kind of great to just be able to walk out and 5 minutes and see all that.
pictures
forests>>
sea>>
* lemon chicken recipe ..
(1) chop up some chicken chunks (legs, wings preferable), quater a lemon and squeeze juice into a cup (save the rinds!), chop up potato, garlic, onion, cilantro (parsley is ok too).
(2) season chicken with salt and pepper
(3) brown chicken chunks , skin side down (skinned chicken is for robots) in a fry pan
(4) flip chicken once one side is nice golden color. throw in potatoes and brown them like the chicken chunks.
(5) once potatoes have a nice golden color on one side, throw in the lemon rinds, onion and garlic chunks
(6) add water, shochu (or white wine, or some other cooking wine), salt. put the cover one and little braise on low for 10 minutes
(7) remove lemon rinds, pour in the lemon juice, turn off heat, top with cilantro. serve with, of course, rice.
felt the day slipping past me and went out, crossed the street and into the beach. the day was blustery, sunny and cool by the beach, the tide pools were full of little trapped fish. there was this one really deep pool with some sort of tropical fish with electric blue stripes, darting desperately in its narrow berth to hide from me. looking back at the mountains, it looked like a storm was brewing, the peaks were obtenebrated by thick, gray clouds which projected out just shy of the beach. the ocean was frothing pretty energetically; i crept out on a rock and a wave soaked me up to my balls.
odd thing about living in a vacation spot -- always feel like you ought to be out doing something awesome. but its kind of great to just be able to walk out and 5 minutes and see all that.
pictures
forests>>
sea>>
* lemon chicken recipe ..
(1) chop up some chicken chunks (legs, wings preferable), quater a lemon and squeeze juice into a cup (save the rinds!), chop up potato, garlic, onion, cilantro (parsley is ok too).
(2) season chicken with salt and pepper
(3) brown chicken chunks , skin side down (skinned chicken is for robots) in a fry pan
(4) flip chicken once one side is nice golden color. throw in potatoes and brown them like the chicken chunks.
(5) once potatoes have a nice golden color on one side, throw in the lemon rinds, onion and garlic chunks
(6) add water, shochu (or white wine, or some other cooking wine), salt. put the cover one and little braise on low for 10 minutes
(7) remove lemon rinds, pour in the lemon juice, turn off heat, top with cilantro. serve with, of course, rice.
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