November 5, 2009: At War with Myself

Nijo Castle of Kyoto

A view from above of the grounds of Nijo Castle

At times I get surges, I feel the passion to become a doctor reignite inside of me. I feel like I can accomplish anything. But it is temporary and I cannot control it. These surges take over at any time they please, any moment, whether it is while I am in bed with a cold, or biking to school. But then the fiery passion fades, ever so slowly it does so. I feel teased, but have no one to blame but myself.

I’ve wanted to be a doctor since 10 years old. Although I feared I might contract every kind of disease out there, I was attracted to the descriptions of the ailments; there was an intense appeal that I found in reading the symptoms. The knowledge felt like liquefied gold that was being poured onto my maturing brain.

When you are little, it seems like anything is possible. Growing up, that mentality of mine was certainly encouraged and I was told to pursue what I wanted to do in life; as long as it fit in the small to zero budget my family and I had of course. It’s really all up to me. As I applied to colleges, I felt like that dream solidified, but my college education has done nothing but dissolve my dream into a fine powder, and the elements that built the foundation of this dream is slowly blowing away with the eastern winds. Maybe going to an ivy league was a mistake. Maybe I could have been more successful had I gone to a state school. Maybe my whole wave of thinking is distorted. Maybe I should have chosen a different career. Maybe I should have majored in writing, or math, or Japanese. Maybe I should have never dreamed big in the first place.

Since I was little, as shy I was at first, it was easy for me to make friends, but just as easy to lose them. Moving to a different town changes everything. In college, the friends I have made, although I’ve want to keep forever, friendship, like any relationship, is a two way street, and if both don’t make equal efforts, there is no friendship. With this in mind, I feel that I have lost many a friendships, the world forcing me to conclude that friends are never forever. I yearn for a friend I can share everything with, and though I thought I have found a few, with distance, of course situations change. Maybe my whole idea of friend is all wrong. Maybe I expect too much from the people I care about. Maybe I expect a friend to be more like a sister than a friend. Maybe I think they are more valuable than they are worth. In college, I have had friends that were on the same track as me, they wanted to be a doctor, came from better High Schools than me, but have already quit on that dream. I stand alone fighting for my dream, hesitating to continue onwards because I have so many other interests that get in the way. College provides too many opportunities. Or is it that I feel that if I follow my dream, I’ll loose all the ones I love, whether it is because of distance or lack of authenticity? I guess, then, this would make my friendships superficial and the superficial friendships/relationships with people that can’t stand to those mere obstacles are then not worth my energy.

I am at a constant war with myself. I came to Japan to take a break from my serious studies, to think about my future. I welcome the turmoil that comes because without this turmoil, I would not think about my future, but yet I still am undecided. I want to go to medical school, but I also want to go to graduate school for psychology. I have developed a keen interest in psychology, but don’t know if that transference of interest is just a lazy attempt that I have created to avoid medical school; Or if it is just a cause of me wanting to follow a friend who has a similar interest. I want to give up my dream. I want to throw it all away but I just can’t watch it burn away. I can’t throw all the trouble and ache I have endured for this dream just like that. I’m stuck at a fork in the road. If I am willing to throw away this dream, then I might as well just go into law or anything I want. What do I want?

October 30, 2009

Battle of Genji and Heike


Pond of Blood where they washed their swords.

Temple 84

My stone from the Ryugado Cave is mounted proudly at Temple 84

Temple 84

Now to climb that.

Temple 85

The small town of Shido.

Temple 86

Temple 84, Yashimaji
It was too much of a struggle to wake up at 5am that morning. I woke at 6am and took the 6:30am train from Takamastu to the town next door, Yashima. I got there around 7am and started walking the henro trail. All was good until I reach the view of Yashima; a mountain that pulls out of the country and surrounds its tip with water to make it some sort of island, it certainly had an interesting shape. The peak is not your usual pointy top, but it was rounded and almost seemed as if during its creation the wind blew it out of shape to give it a unique cap. With no coin lockers at the station, I had no choice but to carry my heavy backpack (with warm clothes that were unnecessary because of the unusually continuing warm weather that made fall feel like summer).

Going up the mountain to Temple 84 was more than just a nuisance because there was no straight road that went to the top. Instead the cement road scribbled its way to the top, all the while maintaining a steep incline. When I finally reached the top, I walked around to see the cement drawing of the battle between the Genji and Heike and the pond of blood where they washed the blood off their swords; long ago this mountain was their battle grounds. I was also able to see beautiful views from atop the mountain of the ocean between Shikoku and Honshu as well as the connecting bridges between the two lands.

When I reached this temple, they told me the next one was only a 2 hour walk away, and the priests gave me directions to the short cut/ohenro road. They told me to be careful because the way down was very steep. Since it was so difficult getting up, I thought going down would be a piece of cake and was looking forward to the descent. But the way down was dangerous indeed. It was slippery and the incline was so steep. There were few trees in the path to hold on to, and I couldn’t help but run and hop/jump during my way down. I felt as if someone was pushing me down the entire time. Maybe it was the weight of my backpack, or maybe it was an invisible force that wanted me gone, whatever it was I was surprised I didn’t twist my ankle on the terrible rocky ground below my feet. There was little soil and some man-made stairs that seemed to be in urgent need of repair, and most of the time there were big jagged rocks that made walking down a struggle. But when I reached the end, I was relieved with a banquet of fruit that the nearby house left out for ohenros to eat as they please: a basket of oranges (mikan) was breakfast for me. I ate about 8 oranges and stuffed 3 into my pocket and was on my way.

Temple 85
As I walked along my merry way, soaking up the beauty of Shikoku’s nature, I felt like I was walking through a ghost town. Most of my walks through the small towns of Japan all seem to have this in common: there are houses, some very nice ones, but no people walking around the town, and no sign of life in the houses. It’s so quiet; all but the occasional passage of cars, you would think it was an abandoned city.

I crossed a bride to get to the town and following the ohenro road I saw a welcoming store-looking place with a small pond in front of it. The autumn trees in the background of the pond made it look pretty and so I thought I might sit a while next to it and enjoy the weather and view. Out of a white van came a man who saw me diverting from the ohenro road and seemed to be in a fury. He asked me in Japanese, in an angry voice, “Where do you think you’re going?” I was shocked that such a stranger would have the nerve, I felt like I was trespassing on private property, but it was just open road I was walking on. I told him I was walking over there to see the view and pointed toward the pond. He wouldn’t even let me finish my sentence and asked if I was Japanese. And I said I came from America. I think this got him even angrier and he directed me to a red arrow on a signpost and told me to follow it. I already saw this arrow, and already knew where I was going, I wasn’t lost, but I he was insisted I was lost and needed direction. I gave him a dirty look and said “I know, I know.” To this he just laughed a bit of insanity. Maybe he thought he was being a Good Samaritan but I wasn’t convinced. Maybe he was crazy, maybe he just hated Americans. I know there are some Japanese people that have had bad experiences with Americans and feel like they have to be on their toes when they encounter one. But that’s a bit racist, a bit discriminatory, don’t you think? One bad apple spoils the bunch, and the world thinks that every Middle Eastern man is a terrorist under cover. What has this world come to?!

Anyway, I was forced to continue without rest, but luckily I found a small stand in the road with two women that were covered in shade. One woman gave me a snack, green mochi with red bean inside that she just handmade, and told me to continue on the road where I would be given tea by another kind woman. Well I continued and found a nice bench to sit on. Outside on the bench was the woman’s husband, reading a novel, inside the wooden house was the wife. When he saw me he yelled to his wife for some tea, and she invited me inside her home. I was greeted by a luxurious French carpet, and some exquisite wooden Indonesian sculptures. It was a comfy place. Here I ate the mochi I was given, drank some tea, ate some fig sorbet (her recipe: peel a fresh fig, put it in the freezer and when you want to eat it, heat it in the microwave for 20 seconds, and wa-la! You can eat a fig any time of the season, even when they aren’t in season), oranges, puffed mochi, coffee, and I waited for the bread that she just freshly baked with homemade apple-jam. I was so full and happy. Her husband seemed to have a bit of a mental disability, but they were such kind people. The wife’s eyes twinkled with life and happiness as she listened to my stories, and I felt like if ohenro’s stopped coming by she would just wither away. Her energy was devoted to those making the pilgrimage but this also seemed to be the source of her energy and will to live. She told me the name of her place is called Jinan and even gave me a homemade gift to bring back home to my grandma. The gift she gave me was a prince and princess doll set that the Japanese mount on a shelf during New Years. Before I was on my way she gave me 2 more homemade mochi’s from the other woman’s stand and wished me luck.

Going to Temple 85 was also another ascent. Climbing 1868 steps the day before, and going to Temple 84 was challenging enough. I was already tired just by looking at the incline upwards. My legs felt weary, but I pushed through, and when I reached the top, they told me Temple 86 is just 2 more hours away. It is at this temple (or was it at Temple 84?) that I left the stone that my cave tour guide gave me as a souvenir atop the red/orange tori that had many round stones lined up upon it that was within the temple grounds. It was too heavy for me to continue carrying, and I didn’t think I would bring it home to NY anyway. I left my mark and felt proud.

In the small town of Shido: Temple 86
I started walking down the decline to the next town to get to Temple 86. The decline was rough on my knees, and my legs really started to hurt. For a while I was limping, and thought that maybe running would relieve the pain. I was wrong and my left knee continued to feel like it would snap out of its socket at any moment. Ohenros drove by in cars and motorcycles. One car-driving ohenro stopped on the road and gave me 2 oranges. Another guy driving a car stopped and gave me a whole bag of snacks, taking just one out of the whole bag for himself. I barely had time to properly say thank you, when these people drove off and disappeared.

Walking to temple 86, I walked by houses, the river, then by a highway, getting lost amidst the acres of farming land of rice and veggies. Walking, I felt at peace. Even though my bag was heavy and my legs and shoulders were weary of travel, I felt at peace, and wished I could start over from day 1. If I had to do it all over again, I would walk the entire way.

I walked around Temple 86 and saw tons of ohenros, dressed in the same fashion as me, all praying in unison in front of the sacred temple. Their voices remain full of energy, I wondered how they got there. Did they take a bus?
I got on a direct bus that would take a little more than 3 hours but would get me directly home to Kyoto. At the bus I made sure I was at the right place and asked the only person who was there. Here I met a potato farmer. Although he is from this small town and has lived here his whole life, he’s a huge Yankee fan. I guess that was enough for him. He gave me his phone number, without a name, and told me to call him if I was ever in town again and he would bring a whole basket of potatoes to me.

October 29, 2009

Temple 68

Temple 69

Temple 75 grounds

The grounds of Temple 75 is huge!

In the basement, following the path of darkness this is what I found.

Temple 75

Konpira: the famous vendors with their white umbrellas.

Atop Konpira-san.

I made it up 1368 steps!

Kanon: Temple 68 and 69
Out of the 88 temples in Shikoku, these are the only 2 that are right next to each other. It’s nice because you get to knock two out of the way in one shot. The two temple grounds are so merged it’s hard to distinguish the two separately from memory. I remember getting a bit lost walking to this place and I tried to walk the ohenro path, which was the long way (but good thing I didn’t because I would have lost more time and the trains don’t run too often), but someone directed me through the shortcut.
It was through this blasphemous short cut that I was traumatized. It was a warm sunny day and on my way to the temple, I bumped into a Japanese woman. Red heels, black stockings, a short black skirt, and a tight black t-shirt, I took one look at her face and realized it was a man. This man stopped me for a conversation, saying that today he felt like dressing up as a woman. And I said “I see.” The conversation should not have gone further but he asked me if I thought it was weird and then told me if I had time he would show me around the town. I told him I was going to the temples (thus my ohenro attire) and he said he should come with me. He then lifted his skirt and showed me his bright red panties and pulled out his penis and told me he’s small. How the conversation made this strange sharp perverted turn is a mystery to me. There were dogs that lived in a house right next to the road where we were standing, and as if they sensed this grotesque scene about to come a few milliseconds before it occurred, possibly by the smell in the air, no sooner all 5 of them came out barking madly. As soon as I was flashed, as if on cue from the bark of the dogs, I automatically turned around and started walking towards the temple but I had to pass these ferocious looking dogs. I prayed my ohenro outfit would grant me some respect, some comfort to the dogs. The expression on my face asked them to spare me, and as I tiptoed by the dogs, surprisingly they didn’t budge. Thankfully, they let me pass. I guess my pure goodness shined through. What smart doggies! After that I didn’t look back and have no idea what might have happened behind me.

I was starving when I reached this place, because I didn’t eat anything in the morning, and so before I left the temple, I had some lunch (udon). Some old guy asked me about my journey, his interest peaking when I told him I was from America, and he insisted he take a picture of me in front of the Temple with his camera to place on his blog. After eating udon next to a group of 5 Japanese ohenro enjoying the same lunch, they gave me a snack to take with me on my way (gift=osettai). I was grateful and ate it on the way back to the train station.

Zentsuji: Temple 75
I heard this was a huge temple and so I decided I had to go to this temple. I spent about 2 hours here because they had some kind of museum that I don’t think was open to the public yet, but because the doors slid open when I approached them, I couldn’t resist walking in. Inside was a bunch of wooden sculptures of many different types of gods. They all looked very new and neat and uniform, as if all made by one person at one time, and I took a picture of the majority of them. It seems like the temple grounds was preparing itself for a matsuri/festival that night or the next day and flags of different colors were being hung.
I paid 500 yen to transverse the temple basement in darkness. On the walls were pictures of mandalas (gods of all kinds). You pass through this basement by using your left hand and pressing it against the wall for guidance. The purpose: it is as if the mandalas and Buddhist gods are providing you guidance on your way. Close to the end you get to a room with a voice recording and a room with some cement statue Buddhas and altar with a money collection box in front of it. I used my cell phone as a flashlight to see the pictures of the mandalas because I was curious.

I gave myself plenty of time to walk back to the train station. As I was hungering for some fruit, on my way back I walked into a supermarket. Because I was in my ohenro attire, every one in the supermarket stared at me, as if henros don’t walk into supermarkets. I love figs and so I was eyeing the beautiful figs that were 6 for 300 yen. That was cheap! But if I bought that many I didn’t have enough space in my backpack to keep them and I couldn’t eat them all at once because I might very well get diarrhea. So sadly I put them down and walked out of the store. No sooner was I on my way when a woman from in her car called out “おねえちゃん” (sister) and handed me 3 figs. She watched me eye the figs in the store, and so just gave them to me. I was so happy and grateful that as soon as I washed them at the train station I gobbled them all down. Delicious!

When I got to the train station, I accidently almost got on the wrong train and therefore missed my train that was waiting across the platform. I was just going to take the train to the next stop. I decided to hop in a cab because the next train would take 1.5 hours, and by then I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the next town. I paid 2000 yen ($20) to get to the next town, which took less than 10 minutes.

Kotohira: Konpira, 1368 steps + 500 steps = 1868 steps
My grandmother told me a few weeks before I planned this trip to Shikoku thoroughly that long ago she and my mom and the family went to Konpira. I asked her what it was, but since we didn’t have much time left to talk on the phone, she said that if I asked someone I would be able to figure it out. I decided to go here to experience what my grandma did way back when.

I was kind of pissed that I was rushing myself through this trip and paying too much money with cabs and the like. So I rushed up the 1368 steps. There was a lot of people walking up the steps, most (even the young people) with walking sticks so they can get that Buddhist touch, I guess. You would imagine these steps to just continue on and on forever, just going straight up, like in some movie, but the start of these steps is not as prominent as you would think (I was kind of wondering where Konpira’s steps would start as I was already advancing up), and though it sounds like an achievement, walking up is not as glorious or strenuous as you would think or others might tell you. There are about maybe 50 steps or so at a time (I counted at one point) that you climb, and then a small cement road in between the next set of steps. I felt like the purpose of the breaks in between was to lessen the blow. But, I wanted the full on challenge, and was ready for it, and was disappointed when I reached the top/end so soon. I expected too much (damn you, guide book). Some people however, really think that these stairs are a challenge and pay 6500 yen ($65) to get carried up in a palanquin. (What fat, bent out of shape American would do that?) Anyway, as you climb the stairs there are tourist shops that continue on the ascent filled with food and overpriced presents. On the way there are museums, temples, statues, a café, and 5 white umbrellas selling supposedly what they have been selling for generations (some hard yellow candy). These 5 umbrellas represent the 5 families that were given the privilege long ago to sell their goods in that location.

When you reach the top, there is a huge temple and a beautiful view of the city of Kotohira. It was cloudy on the day I went, so it was hard to see the islands in the distance. Because I was so unsatisfied with the 1368 steps, I decided to climb the extra 500 steps to get to the top of the mountain and see the view from there. Comparing 500 to 1368 steps seems like nothing, but the climb is so difficult. It’s because you already climbed 1368 steps that makes the next ascent hard. When I reached the top, there was an orange shrine and again the cloudy view of the city. There was also an interesting view of the side of the mountain, with its rocky jaggedness. Going to the top wasn’t worth it because there was really nothing much, but it tired me out and ate away at the energy I needed to get rid of so I felt at peace once again.

Because the next day I wanted to climb the mountains to Temple 86, which was 5km from the train station I looked in my ohenro book and inquired about a place in a town an hour away from where I currently was. I wanted to get to the temple first thing in the morning and thought my best bet was to wake as early as possible and take my time walking there from my lodging. When I called the place I introduced myself as a student from America studying in Japan and doing this pilgrimage. Maybe that was my mistake. I told the woman I was going to get there a bit late, by 8pm, and asked if that was ok. Maybe it was that when temples close at 5pm, so do the accommodations that are suggested in the ohenro manual. Whatever it was, she told me to find another place to stay for the night. How rude! So I was not able to stay in the same town as my next destination, but was forced to stay for one night in a city about 20 minutes away by train. I made a reservation with the cheapest place (5400 yen, $54), but thought even that was a bit pricey for my budget.

When I reached the big city of Takamatsu, in the train station I found out that the hotel I made a reservation for that night was pretty far (I would have to take the street car). Because the train station has so many signs that provided me with telephone numbers of cheaper places, that were closer, I struggled to find a place close by that was cheap and had room for me. I found a place that was 4500 yen, but when I walked to the place, right next door to it was a business hotel that was cheaper (3800 yen). I didn’t make a reservation, but didn’t need it, and she gave me a dirty room that smelled like cigarettes for the night. I was upset, but too tired to complain. I walked around the city, had some tempura with zaru udon (noodles) for the night that satisfied my hungry, travel weary soul and fell fast asleep.

October 28, 2009: The Last Remaining Natural River in Japan, A Shrine Dedicated to Sex, More of the 88 Temples

Shimanto-gawa

Temple 39

At Temple 39

At the sex shrine in Uwajima

This town is known for bull fights!

The infamous onsen place of Matsuyama

I sneaked into the temple and took a picture of its inner quarters

My hand is too small!

Me in front of Temple 51

Nakamura
I went to a place called Nakamura in Shikoku. I went to go see some dragonflies and the Shimanto-gawa river, one of the few naturally remaining rivers in Japan. It was a beautiful blue river that started wide and narrowed as it curved into the mountains. I had to cross the river to get to the dragonfly park and museum. The only thing that really pissed me off about Shikoku is its transportation system. There was the JR train that ran around the outermost parts of the island, and it only cut through the island once (this was through the middle). There were some buses, but in the most remote places, the buses ran twice a day, in others 5 times a day. The earliest bus that would take me across the river and to the museum was one at 1pm, and it was around 8:30am when I arrived. I walked and it took about 45 minutes to get across to the park and museum. It totally wasn’t worth it. No wonder the buses didn’t run until 1pm, no one wanted to go. Close to November, they told me there are no more dragonflies (unless I go far across into the mountains). I paid 850 yen to look at dead dragonflies and butterflies from all over the world, and some big fish swimming in their small tanks. I was disappointed, that’s to say the least. But the river was a beautiful view.

Temple 39: えんこうじ
In my henro attire I took the train. The temple was about a 30 minute walk away from the train station, so I was excited. I met a woman on the train, told her I am from NY and studying at Doshisha University. She told me she had a son who has been living in California for 5 years and someone that is close to her went to Doshisha University. Because of this she felt that it was fate that we met. Her name was Nishiyo. She asked me about my plans and I told her I wanted to get on the bus from Sukumo (a town slightly east from where I was currently, a few train stops away) to Urajima (it would take 2 hours or so by bus) to continue my adventure. She gave me her business card, and told me she would drive me to the bus stop after I went to Temple 39. She told me that her son experienced a lot of kindness in the US from strangers and she wanted to return the favor.

So, I gave her my phone number, and started walking straight down the highway. When I came to splits in the road, I pulled out my yellow henro walking guide book for guidance, occasionally asking the locals for directions. As I was walking the henro road, the woman from the train came driving up behind me and gave me a ride to the temple. I was already so close to the temple, but if she didn’t pick me up I would have never gotten on the bus in time.

The reason why I really wanted to go to this temple was because I love turtles, and one of the stamps you receive from this temple is a turtle. Not to mention there is a turtle statue with a big bell mounted on his back that is visible as you walk through the main gate. I rushed through throwing my 5 yen coin in the money basket in front of the temple, and walking in front of a group that was praying loudly together.

Nishiyo drove me to the station and directed me to the bus stop. She even gave me a small present (some powder that you mix with hot water and drink like tea that is from Nara)

Uwajima
I came here for one thing and one thing only. To go to Taga Jinga, a shrine dedicated to fertility, which coincidentally is right next to a sex museum. I asked a guy for directions, and he gave me the most shocked look. It’s almost worth going to this town just to watch people’s reactions as you ask for directions to this forbidden place. The shrine has a huge wooden penis placed right next to the temple, along with some penis statues. I went when sun started to set and it was pretty dark.
This town is also known for dog fights and bull fights, but because it wasn’t tourist season, I didn’t even bother trying to find out the schedule. Most likely there would be nothing going on.

Matsuyama
I finally arrived at Matsuyama well after nightfall. I took the tram to my nights stay: a super cheap place, 2100 yen. And it was atop a small hill so there was a beautiful view of the city. I meant to go to Dogo Onsen that night but was so tired and weary from my travels, and so lost amidst the many onsens all around the area that I walked into the wrong one. It was Dogo Onsen’s sister onsen that I walked into and although it’s the same water, I heard that it’s just not as luxurious. It was the onsen that the locals go to because Dogo is always crowded with tourists. I was exhausted, so I sat in the hot water for about 30 minutes before getting up to leave. Dogo Onsen is famous because long ago the royal family used to take a dip here. Because I knew that Dogo Onsen opened at 6am, the next morning I decided to wake at 6am and take a peaceful dip before all the tourists bombard the area. Even though it was 6am, I was surprised. With their cameras hung around their necks, tourists were already roaming the streets. And although I came to experience Dogo Onsen, in my weary just-woken-up state, I forgot that there were 3 different packages to choose from, and I chose the wrong one and ended up in the simple onsen on the 1st floor instead of the whole deal which includes the luxurious onsen on the 2nd floor, the one with the beautiful tiles along the walls that is raved about.

After I changed into my pilgrimage outfit and set out for the next temple on my list, #51 Ishite-ji. When I got to the place, it was around 7:15am and all was quiet except for the sweeping sounds of the brooms of the women who brushed the fallen leaves aside to make a clear path around the temple. I ventured into places I probably wasn’t supposed to enter. For instance, there was a temple building on the top of a staircase. Although the door to this temple was closed, there was no key and I was curious to see if it would open. Sliding the door, I saw the insides and marveled at the beautiful and colorful paintings on the walls of its interior. So this is what temples are made of, I thought to myself. Discerning by the huge spider webs around the area, I decided that the path I took was not often explored and that made the adventure to the top of this staircase and inside of the temple all the more exciting. I also ventured into the basement located behind one of the temple buildings. It was pretty dark, but not a long passageway, and at the end I was greeted by Buddha statues lined up against the wall in a semicircle fashion. There was also this huge pot where they burned incense that was in the center of this temple complex. I received my Nokyo-cho (stamp and signature by the priest of the temple) in my book and went on my way. I spent too much time leisurely walking around this interesting temple, and so I was forced to run back to the tram to get on the JR train in time. Running with a heavy backpack is not fun.
I really enjoyed the atmosphere of this city. Big but quiet, with a tram service that took you anywhere for 150 yen, it seemed to be just the right mix of nature (with its rolling hills and small mountains) and city.

October 27, 2009, Wednesday: Exploring a Cave for the First Time

And here I start my adventure.

Climbing up

Bats

My tour guide and me.

Tour guide`s family and me.

Ryugado: The CAVE Adventure

Yesterday I went to Ryugado, a cave in Tosa Yamada, a town near the big city of Kochi. It was definitely the highlight/climax of my trip. I called a few days in advance to make a reservation for the “adventure course.” I signed up for the 2pm tour, but because I was going from a bus, which there were only 5 a day and the latest bus that would get me their in time would arrive at 12:39pm, I decided to reschedule a few hours earlier day of for the 1pm, tour. I am glad I did because I don’t think I would have been granted the adventure otherwise.

Now I have never been in a cave before, much less seen one with my own eyes. I paid $15 (1500 yen) plus an extra $5 (500 yen) for an overall outfit rental. The tour guide book said it would be $30 total (3000 yen) for the adventure course, so I was a bit confused, but why complain.

I found out later that 2 other people signed up for the 2pm tour, so I would have been with a small group, but a group nonetheless. I am glad they allowed me to change last minute. I got a personal one-on-one tour. One of the tour guides heard that a study abroad student was coming and got very excited and insisted that she give me the tour. She was so bubbly and energetic and excited to meet me, and she spoke so very fast in Japanese; but she was truly awesome. She originally was from Osaka, but came to the town when she was a teenager and went to the local High School there. She worked part-time at the cave in HS and has been there ever since. Her name: Mitsuru.

So I found out later that the adventure course was—a climb into the even more inner reaches of the cave. They called it the B course. Apparently I didn’t pay for that. Even though I made the reservation for it. But my tour guide was awesome, remember? She said because I came all the way from NYC, she would show me the B course, on the house! Crawling through small holes that no ordinary fat American could fit through, I baely squeezed my shoulders and hips through at times. Climbing wet and slippery inclines with a rope, walking through water, and literally using my whole body (butt and back on one side/wall of the cave, feet on the other) to get across was thrilling. I climbed up place that my tour guide wouldn’t follow and watched me from a distance yelling, “Be careful!” Occasionally I would climb up but forget how I got up there, and had to carefully but blindly slide my feet across the way down to find some grip. There were places where it just looked like a 30 foot drop into darkness, and my tour guide assured me that it might look like a lengthy drop, but told me there were places for footing and that the floor is actually very close, not a deep drop at all. At first I was a little hesitant, but as I got used to the cave, I was sliding down and jumping into murky puddles that came up to my knees (not a good idea because water went inside my boots and I got really dirty and only brought 3 pairs of socks on this 5 day excursion). I also saw and heard tons of bats. I hoped that they would swoop down by me but they never did. They stuck to the ceiling no matter how much light we shined on them.

My tour guide also never hesitated to take a picture of me, and so I have too many. She took me through the B course as a secret, but her manager with the 2pm tour group found us, and she might have got in trouble for that. He gave her some rocks that he found in high places that might serve as a potential danger and ordered her to toss them in the water somewhere. She tossed the big one, and as a secret gave me the smaller one as a souvenir.

I insisted I was in no rush, and what was supposed to be a 1.5 hour tour turned into a 2.5 hour. Toward the end exhaustion kicked in, and I felt a bit light-headed, but kept this to myself and we kept moving on. At one point Mitsuru came up with the great idea that we should turn off our helmet lights and sit in complete darkness, to experience the darkness of the cave. Through this experience, I finally understand that us humans are not, and definitely never can be nocturnal. We sat there for about 5 minutes talking in Japanese, all the while I tried to get used to the dark surroundings. Sadly, as I put my hands before my eyes and admitted I could never get used to this darkness, I gave up. I couldn’t see anything—not even the trail before me or the trail behind. I have never been immersed in such darkness before and felt swallowed up by complete nothingness.

Although I didn’t panic, I felt stuck, useless, and immobile. I couldn’t go anywhere without light. Mitsuru turned on a very dim light but even then it felt so bright. We were using 2 lights to navigate the cave and even then I thought it was dark, but now I felt it was easily accomplishable with this singular dim light. Oh, and the appreciation for light develops! Thank you Con Edison!

Even though I made a reservation (the day before) at a cheap hotel in the next town, the woman never asked for my name or number and because Mitsuru insisted that I go stay at her place, I thought, why not? I felt dirty from crawling on my hands and knees and so Mitsuru even drove me to the nearby onsen (Ryugado onsen). Although it smelled slightly of chlorine and there was only one onsen, an indoor one, I basically had the place to myself and it did its job—I was relaxed and clean afterwards.

Then I went to Mitsuru’s house. She had 2 huge houses right next to each other. Her parents lived in the older one next door, and she and her family lived in the huge new one. She had 2 boys (ages 5 and 8) and a husband that comes home a bit late from work, as well as a really cute dog. I slept upstairs in a very clean, spacious room. And dinner was amazing. We drank beer, I ate some sashimi (Tuna), and Kochi’s specialty fish (I forgot the name, maybe it was a kind of bonito), kabocha (pumpkin), rice from this year, beef, pork, peppers, mushroom, everything. It was all so delicious. And then we had desert. Mitsuru also tried to help me to tighten my plan for the next day and let me use her computer and internet.
In the morning I was fed breakfast and driven to the station and she bought me lunch, too. I was treated so well by complete strangers that took me into the security of their home. It amazes me that people even with small children could welcome a complete stranger into their house. Japan is amazing.