Month: March 2020

Going to try to get through Hiroshima today.

So, the second day of my Japan trip, I got up, showered, and packed up all my belongings – never returning to Hakata again, probably. After breakfast in the kitchen, I headed out into the streets. It was still early Saturday morning and everything was quiet, but the temples were busy because of the lunar holiday. As I walked through the streets, I met up with the girl from Taiwan from the night before – the English teacher. We walked together on our way to the train station, but I never thought to get her name or her contact information. Oh, well.

The train station was crowded with travelers, like before. Thousands of people hurrying every which way. I had a Japan Rail Pass, which is a special program by the Japanese government. You buy it before you arrive in the country (you can’t purchase it within Japan!), and then activate it once you arrive – it grants you unlimited rides on all JR rail lines, which reach damn near the entire country and includes the bullet train. I found the JR office and a worker helped walk me through completing my application to activate the pass. I waited in line about 20 minutes in the ticket office (again, hundreds of people queuing up for more than a dozen separate ticket desks), then got a ticket for the next bullet train to Hiroshima. 

I had to weave through the crowds to get to the platforms. It got pretty routine since it was something I would do dozens of times during my stay in the country – I just walked up to the single manned gate, flashed my pass at the guard, and then waltzed on to whatever train I wanted. At first it was very confusing – dozens of platforms, with destinations and times announced in Japanese and English, trains coming and going every few minutes, hundreds of people chattering, the station PA coming on periodically, and of course the sound of trains roaring in. I found what I thought was the right place to wait on the platform, and two trains later I filed on to the shinkansen, which is what they call the bullet train.

The cars were very wide and had really nice seats. I was seated next to a businessman of some kind, but in the future I wouldn’t get a reserved seat and would just pick my own (with the rail pass I didn’t actually need a ticket – I could just walk on!). Within five minutes of the train arriving we departed. 

It was a smooth ride – you barely feel like you’re moving, but then you look out the window and the countryside is whipping by at 120 miles an hour. The seats are mostly like an airplane, again, with tray tables, recliners, chargers, etc. I looked out at Kyushu one last time (I thought about going south to Nagasaki, but it was out of the way), then we dove into a tunnel to go under the strait and arrive on Honshu, Japan’s main island. We stopped in one or two towns like Kagoshima, but within an hour and a half of leaving Hakata I was in Hiroshima, 200 miles away. 

I didn’t get to see too much of the city at first – just outside Hiroshima there’s a famous shrine, Itsukushima. It has a torii gate floating on the water in Hiroshima Bay, you see pictures of it all the time. I wanted to head over there and visit that first before I went into the city. I had booked two nights at the hotel here, so I had plenty of time to explore. So, I left the bullet train, wove through the station again, and found the local lines. Then I got onto a much smaller train, more of a subway car, and we headed out across hte city. 

Hiroshima is a beautiful city with lots of water. There’s a river that empties into the sea right at the city, and the city is built on dozens of small islands on the river delta. It’s mostly small homes and businesses with not too many big buildings apart from downtown, and the day was really clear and cool (it got a little more damp later in the day, but nothing too bad). At the end of the line, pretty much everyone got out and walked a block down the street to the ferry to Miyajima Island, which is where the shrine was. I made it just as a ferry was getting ready to depart and hurried on board. It was a big, open boat – two decks, lots of seats, no walls. The island was visible just a short way across the water. It was a short ride, just like 20 minutes, and then we pulled into the dock.

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The island is overrun with tourists, and deer. Deer everyhwere, and they walk right up to you expecting to be fed. There’s a little town wedged between the sea and lots of forested hills that make up most of the island – it’s a sacred island in Shintoism so not much development is allowed, which makes it very quiet and peaceful despite the crowds. Just about everyone was walking along the seaside path towards the shrine. There were people from every country and of all ages visiting. I joined them, patted some deer, took lots of pictures, and explored the shrine (which is built right above the water), which still had working monks performing religious ceremonies. I explored the back alleys of the town and ate lunch at a tiny Japanese restaurant run by a nice old woman, went to an aquarium where I saw all kinds of fish native to the Inland Sea and petted a seal, and waded in the shallow water all the way out to the famous torii gate (which was currently covered up for maintenance). A Spanish woman had me take her picture there, and then she took mine in exchange. After a few hours, I headed back to the ferry to go to town and find my hotel.

Back in the train station, it was again really busy and confusing. I wound up in an underground shopping mall trying to find my way out, where there was a sort of concert going on at a public space, but I eventually amde it out onto the streets as the sun was setting. I crossed three rivers and just took in the sites, but eventually I found the Bomb Dome – ground zero from when we wiped out the city 75 years ago. It sits across the river from an ancient district of Hiroshima’s that was totally wiped out in the bombing and today is the Peace Memorial Park. The park has lots of trees and wide paths, and many monuments to the atomic bombing, including the national bomb museum (closed at the moment, but I’d go there Sunday morning). I walked around the park for a while, which sits on its own island in the center of the city. Just off the north end, the river, which comes down from the mountains to the north, splits in two, and flows around either side of the island. There’s a T-shaped bridge which connects either side of the river and the island – that was the point that Enola Gay aimed for since it’s so distinctive. 

After my walk, I crossed to the far side of the island and a few blocks away hidden in a back alley was my next hotel. It give me a bit more space than the last one, more than I needed, really, so I quickly settled in, then went out to explore. I found a busy shopping district and wandered for a while. It was nice hearing English spoken in the streets – Hiroshima is filled iwth tourists from every nation, so I didn’t stand out for once. But I didn’t want to buy any souvenirs since anything I bought I would have to carry, so I contented myself with people watching and dinner. I headed back home by 9:00, organized all the day’s photos, and went to bed. 

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I woke up the next morning to learn that Kobe had died.

I have two drafts right now of my Japan trip. One is spiralling more and more out of control with details and blow by blow. In fact, it’s growing unmanageably long, and no one wants to read that. Maybe I’ll finish it someday. Instead, I’ll just share a much shorter, summary version that I wrote in an email updating family on my adventures so far. It’ll serve as content and maybe some day we can have the long form version.

School break was supposed to last to the last week of February, so it was a good time to travel. I spent most of January in the office, watched the Chiefs in the playoffs, didn’t do much, then took off for two weeks to Japan at the Lunar New Year. Japan was pretty great, as you know. 

I took the bus Thursday morning from Gwangju and arrived in Busan late that afternoon. Busan is a thriving, busy city with lots of celebrities and parties and whatnot. I walked along the beach and waterfront most of the evening, then went to my hotel. The next day, after breakfast, I took a bus down to a little island right off the coast of Busan that used to be a hunting preserve for one of the old kings of Korea. There’s a neat lighthouse on the southeastern tip that’s the southeasternmost point in all Korea, and closest to Japan – on a clear day you can see it across the strait. I met a lot of Jehovah’s Witnesses, who were combing the island in force trying to recruit new members. Then I had to hightail it back to Busan to catch my ferry. 

The passenger terminal is a lot like an airport, just with no runways. There’s a lobby and lots of desks with all the various shipping lines, a small cafeteria and coffeeshop, and a small security area. I checked in with about 200 other people who would be on the same voyage. Lots of really intense questions – How long would I be in Japan? Did I have a visa? Where was my passport? Why didn’t I have a return ticket? I was flying out of Tokyo? Where was my ticket? Where would I be staying in Japan? Etc. But I made it through okay, and went through security (not quite as intense as airport security – I could keep my belt and shoes on, at least) and waited at the gate for departure. 

The ferry itself is a little boat, not even really a ship – about 150 feet long, two decks, mostly a passenger area with lots of seats, looks like the inside of an airplane. It’s mostly hydrofoil so the hull sits up out of the water. We left Busan early that afternoon and sped across the strait. It took about 3 and a half hours, very smooth. I didn’t get seasick at all. We passed the island of Tsushima (famous battle between Japan and Russia in 1905 there, start of the Japanese Empire) and went into Hakata port on the island of Kyushu. 

Hakata and Fukoka are a twin city, probably hte largest on the island. The streets were wide and clean, much nicer than Korea, I noticed, and all the people were well dressed. It was early in the evening Friday night, and lots of people were walking home from work. The port itself was again like an airport, but very small – just a customs area, baggage claim (which I skipped – I only brought my backpack to live out of), and a small tourist desk in the lobby. I walked out into the city with only a paper map to find my hotel – no cell service yet until I could change my SIM. But I made it okay (good sense of direction) and enjoyed the mile-long walk through downtown Fukuoka. I also went to Hakata Station, which is a huge train station/shopping mall. There’s dozens of rail lines that gather there, more than ten floors of shopping, restaurants…tehre were thousands of people and so much light and noise that I was really disoriented. I couldn’t find a place to change money, so I instead used my American credit card to withdraw cash for the trip. I also grabbed dinner – ramen noodles – while I was there, then headed back to the hotel. 

The hotel has a cat dressed like an astronaut outside, for good luck. Makes it really easy to find, too. It’s a capsule hotel, so all you get is a little bunk bed and some space for your personal belongings. Communal bathrooms and shower – very cheap and not at all bad if you don’t mind not having your own room. That night, I went up to the kitchen. It was Chinese New Year, so the hotel staff was celebrating with dumplings for everyone. While I was up there, a group of Chinese students – looked like they were in their early twenties – approached me and asked if they could use my table. They were going to celebrate with sake, you see. I of course let them use it, and they invited me to drink with them, so I did and celebrated the Chinese New Year. They were college students from Beijing, but we had a bunch of other guests come and join us when they saw how much fun we were having. There was a pretty American girl teaching English in Taiwan, another American working in Ulsan in Korea, yet another American who was just roaming around Japan, two Korean sisters from Seoul, and an elderly couple from Taipei in Taiwan. Some people only spoke English, some only spoke Chinese, some only Korean, some only Japanese, so there was lots of translating. I didn’t go to bed until late that night, but had to be up early the next day to catch my train for Hiroshima.

“As for you, number 4, you have a wonderful voice. Have you ever thought about doing radio?”

Sixteen-year old me hadn’t. In fact, I hated the sound of my own voice (news to anyone who’s heard me expand on my favorite subjects, but there’s a difference: I don’t enjoy talking just to talk. I love warships and history and religion and philosophy and so I love talking about those things, but it’s the subject I love, not the talking). Like most people, I couldn’t stand to listen to recordings of myself. So when the debate judge mentioned radio to me, it was the first time I”d ever thought about the subject.

I lost the debate, of course. I lost most debates – I simply wasn’t good at convincing people through the absurd and convoluted rules that American policy debate requires (I’m not bitter). I was a good speaker, though – in fact, I was the best in the district at the extemporaneous speaking competition, and probably should have performed better at state (I didn’t try my hardest, a fact which my debate teacher knew when she saw my final scores but didn’t call me on. I was tired of debate and didn’t want to do it next year).

Anyway, after a policy debate the four speakers (two on each team) would be given feedback from the judges, and I was consistently praised for the quality and control of my voice. “You definitely have the face – er, voice – for radio,” I distinctly remember one judge, a well-meaning older man with silver hair and a strong, confident face, saying. The judgment – a face for radio – stuck with me.

But I never did try radio.

Until Saturday, that is. I walked into First Alleyway, a popular expat restaurant in Gwangju. The expat community is pretty small here – it’s like a small village within the large city, about 300 people I’d estimate, give or take. You don’t know everyone, but you know someone who knows just about anyone. So when a new face (like me) shows up, people are naturally curious.

I sat down at the bar for dinner. On the TV, Interstellar was playing. Matthew McConaughey was being battered by massive ocean waves the size of city blocks. The fellow sitting next to me, a portly, bearded man with thinning hair and a friendly face, leaned over and said, “I saw this in the Imax here in town. Those waves on an Imax screen? I thought I was gonna die!” Thus I met Arlo.

Arlo is an Albertan, but fled to Korea a decade ago as a political refugee – a democratic socialist had no place in conservative Alberta. Initially an English teacher, he had gotten his master’s in Economics and now taught at Chonnam University, with a Korean wife and child. As a side hustle, though, he hosted People of Gwangju, an English-language radio program on the local expat radio network. When I mentioned that I taught at Gwangju Science Academy, he perked up. “Well, Brad, you’ve passed the barrier of being sufficiently interested. How would you feel about an interview? I’d make it worth your while.”

So it was that this Friday (about two hours ago) I made m shining radio debut.

I drove out to the station (and by that I mean I took a cab – I don’t miss driving one bit), which sits on a leafy hill overlooking downtown Gwangju. Behind the building a radio antenna leaps into the sky, one of the highest points in the city. I walked inside, past signs reminding me that ALL GUESTS MUST USE HAND SANITIZER BEFORE ENTERING STUDIO, and signed the guestbook (Please write your temperature. Did you bring a mask? Y/N), before being ushered into the studio.

THe production offices were, well, normal, apart from everyone wearing surgical masks (itself never too uncommon in Korea, admittedly). Cubicles and employees at computers, editing, writing, doing the administrative minutia that keeps every operation in, er, operation. Arlo met me, shook my hand (a bold choice in these times of COVID19) and ushered me into the studio. A desk with a pair of microphones and headphones for each of us, the soundproof glass barrier separating us from the production crew (Missy, his producer, studied at UMKC! We shared a mutual joy over the Chiefs’ glory before beginning) – it was a real radio studio!

The interview itself was super easy, barely an inconvenience. I talked about myself, mostly (my favorite subject of all!), coming to Korea, surprises, difficulties. I wish the story were more interesting, but honestly I was just excited to be there. It’s fun to be on the radio! After a brief conversation – barely twenty minutes, which I was told would of course be editted down, I was being thanked for my time and shown the door.

So nothing glorious or glamorous, but still fun. One more thing off the bucket list – appear (what’s the proper word for non-visual media?) on the radio at least once in my life. Between this interview for the English language radio station in a town with perhaps 300 native English speakers, and one of my Tweets getting more than a hundred likes, I’m basically a celebrity now. You can all say you knew me before I got famous, though, so there’s that.

Just a fun story for Friday afternoon.

I’m still trying to grapple with Japan and put everything into words. Not really for y’all – to be honest, who wants to read about someone else’s vacation? It’s the dreaded Slideshow, after all. No, this is for me. The better I can write everything down, the better I can remember it and keep it forever. But there’s so much, I’m having a hard time.

This is something I wrote for another place. After I finished, I thought it might also be appreciated here, as sort of a glimpse as to what I’m dealing with:

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You asked me how Japan was. I will attempt to answer: Japan was…everything I wanted it to be and more. It’s impossible to fully describe my trip, so let me instead describe one moment for y’all and let it stand for all:

So I bought a JR Rail Pass, which for two weeks grants me unlimited rides on essentially the entire Japanese rail network, from the mighty shinkansen bullet train all the way down to little municipal trains that roam around rural provinces. I could go wherever I wanted, when I wanted, which I used to the fullest extent, exploring the whole length of the country between Hakata port and Tokyo. 

By Wednesday, I’ve been in the country nearly a week, and I’m on the shinkansen. It’s an intimidating thing, when I first tried it – the shinkansen station in every city is massive, with tens of thousands of people hurrying everywhere, a hundred different shops packed in, video advertisements, posters, signs pointing to trains every which way – for a Midwestern boy like me it was all a bit overwhelming. When you reach the platform, the roar of trains coming and going is constant, and the air is filled with announcements in Japanese and English, and people talking to each, too, so it’s an intense experience. Then the train comes barrelling down into the station and between the noise and the speed of it you can just feel the power of this machine. I loved it. But once you board the shinkansen, things change totally – the ride is smooth, the cars are spacious, luxurious, and quiet. The seats are wide and soft, smiling women roam up and down the aisle with drink and snack carts, and unless you look out the window you can hardl tell you’re moving at all. 

So I’m snug in my seat Wednesday afternoon, racing towards evening. Behind me is Kyushu, Hiroshima, Himeji, Osaka, Kyoto – but yet to come is Tokyo. I’m tired from everything I’ve already done – a hundred adventures already – but I’m also excited for my first glimpse of Tokyo, the largest city in the world. Still ready to see some of those iconic Japanese sights like the scramble crossing or Tokyo tower. And the train comes around a bend, and my jaw just drops – in the distance, glowing in the sunset, dozens of miles across a wide valley, I get my first glimpse of Mt. Fuji. 

Now, I’ve heard of Mt. Fuji, of course, and seen the pictures. I thought I was prepared for it. Fellas, let me tell you – I was not prepared. The snow on the volcano flared golden in the sunlight. Clouds skirted along its foothills. The intervening valley between us lay mostly in shadow, except for the lights of Fuji town, just now starting to twinkle in the advancing evening. I just kind of stared, slack-jawed for a while, then dove for my phone – the train is racing along at hundreds of miles an hour and I have bare minutes. It’s not the greatest photo in the world, but it’s all I had time for:

Now that is a natural wonder of the world. 

My trip was filled with moments like that. I drank sake with a dozen strangers on our hotel roof for Chinese New Year. Didn’t learn their names – no one shared and no one asked. Waded in the tide at Itsukushima Shrine. Got kidnapped by some elderly women in Hiroshima and dragged to a traditional tea ceremony. Toured the Imperial Palace. Met American contractors in a tiny dongatsu joint in Osaka, who were building animatronic robots for a theme park (one guy did Gringotts, in Orlando!). Chased by wild boars at Fushimi Shrine in Kyoto. Had my best gin and tonic ever in the shadow of Tokyo Tower. 

Have you ever had a perfect day? A day where you would change absolutely nothing, because even the smallest alteration would mar the rest? Picture a string of days like that – every day in succession was more perfect than the last. That was Japan.

So yeah, good trip.