Mt. Fuji is For Learners

Mt. Fuji

Climbing Mt. Fuji was, hands down, the most physically challenging thing I have ever done in my life. Emotionally, it was pretty high up there, too.

I knew Fuji-san would be demanding of me; I’m not a person that usually goes hiking up hills and mountains just for the fun of it, but I knew if I could accomplish this, I would be so proud of myself, it’d be like a badge of honor. I also knew that by going with the group of friends that I did, I would be supported and motivated the entire way, which is what I needed to keep going.

Before heading up, I’d read a few different sites about the experience of going up the mountain. All the information I’d seen said the terrain was easy enough for walking shoes but the seven-hour climb was what gave me the most apprehension. Well, that and the risk of being blown off the side of the mountain by Fuji’s strong winds. Nevertheless, I was determined to do it; to succeed; to prove it to myself that I could do it. I wanted something to be really proud of.

The bus ride from Osaka took a few hours with some stops along the way but when we finally came in sight of the mountain and the bus slowly ascended to Station 5, where we were to begin our journey, a lump of fear began to form in my stomach: was I really about to do this? A friend’s reassuring eyes told me, Yes.

After putting on our warmer gear, having a nice warm meal and a bit of a safety lecture barely understood by me because it was all in Japanese, we set out to conquer Japan’s highest peak.

From Station 5

Starting up the mountain from Station 5 was easy enough. It was 5:30pm and there was still enough daylight to enjoy the flora and fauna of the lower altitudes with nice cool breezes blowing down the slope.

We got to Station 6 without any problems and not much challenge. The way to Station 7 is where it began to get more difficult. The sun was setting fast, the terrain was getting tougher as the altitude got higher and the lush greenery turned into rust-colored volcanic rock. I begin to take more breaks that are a little longer each time.

After Station 6

I’m not breathing properly on the way up to Station 7. Instead of nice, big breaths in through the nose and out through the mouth slowly and evenly, I’m breathing quickly in and out of my mouth. Soon enough my technique (or lack thereof) coupled with the ever-increasing altitude practically brings me to my knees as I struggle up the last of the stone steps to Station 7.

I’m dizzy. I’m practically hyperventilating. A friend squeezes my hand. A Japanese woman generously offers me some oxygen from a small aeresol can in her pack. Another gives me a caramel. The tourguide bringing up the rear phones ahead to the lead to tell him and most of the others that we’ve stopped for an unexpected rest. I stand up. They ask if I’m alright. If I want to continue. I look at my friend, squeeze back, and tell them I can. I will. 出来るよ‼

I’m ashamed now that I’ve shown so much weakness. That I fell behind. I’m ashamed that I needed help from so many strangers. I was more than appreciative of their kindness and concern, but I hate feeling like the weakest link. Especially so early on in the journey. From this point I know I can’t do this again. I have to do better. I have to make it all the way. From this point I am constantly aware of how I’m breathing: big, deep, even breaths in through my nose and out through my mouth. Every once in awhile I get a comforting squeeze in the hand or an encouraging word.

Before I started, I promised myself that I wouldn’t complain. I wouldn’t talk about how tired I was. How difficult it was. And I would never say that I wanted to quit. I promised this not only for myself, but also for my friends. I didn’t want them to question why I would even come on the trip if I was just going to complain and whine the entire way up. I wanted a noble effort.

Moving Up The Mountain

By this time, night had completely fallen. We were now using our headlamps to see the trail ahead of us. The lead and the tourguide flanked both ends of our group carrying flashing blue and white sticks of light. It was extremely helpful seeing as how there were several other tour groups on the mountain following the same trail and in the darkness and growing fatigue it was becoming more and more difficult to determine if the Nihonjin with the dark grey North Face pack belonged to my “Fuji Yama nantoka” group or the “Kyushu nantoka” group. Around 9pm, though, we were heading towards Station 8 which meant a few hours of sleep and a bit of a meal. After almost four hours of climbing and snacking on Calorie Mate, both of those things sounded just heavenly.

Before I could rest, though, I first had to MAKE it to Station 8. I had to keep my head down and my hand in someone’s tight grip because everytime I looked up, that station just seemed further and further away. I was tired. I cried a little. I just wanted a rest. But I refused to complain. I just kept pushing. I went at a slightly slower pace than most of the group but by this time, many others were having their own struggles and I wasn’t the very last person in the group anymore. To me, that alone felt like am accomplishment. I had to help cheer them up, too! 頑張ってしましょう (gambatte shimashou – Let’s do our best)!!

I made it to Station 8 after some time. I got my bed placement (in a hostel-like setup), a small bento of salmon and rice and a much-needed bathroom break. I gobbled down my dinner, popped out my contacts and settled in for just under three hours of sleep.

At 1am we were woken up with lights and a few “Ohayou gozaimasu”’s (although some really loud gaijin outside who had just arrived thirty minutes earlier woke me up with their loud chattering). We had half an hour to get ready before trekking the last three hours to the summit and the sunrise. While we slept, though, the groups had just kept coming so by the time we were ready to leave, the number of tour groups on the mountain had doubled and there was a literal human traffic jam of people wanting to catch that same sunrise.

Now, generally, I don’t like huge crowds of people, and HUNDREDS of people simultaneously crawling up the same path I am would have normally irritated me; but the sheer number of enthusiastic climbers slowed the pace down to a speed I was very comfortable with keeping while maintaining my breathing and constantly telling myself that I could do this.

That was before the collective pace slowed down to a full stop. The last few hundred meters to the top consisted of a path made up of various-sized volcanic rocks that required much careful climbing and maintaining a sure foot lest you lose your balance and what once was a light breeze now evolved to a full-on gust assists in pushing you onto a part if the mountain you would have much trouble returning from with your life still intact.

These last few hundred meters were so difficult for me. As daylight drew closer and closer and the sun threatened to rise whether or not I made it to the summit, it became a personal race for me. I raced my tired body that kept begging for a rest. I raced my exhausted emotions that kept wondering when this challenge would end and if it would be worth it. I raced my guilt at the worry of holding someone else from their goal when they had so patiently encouraged me, cheered me on, and helped me find the strength to make it when I became so exhausted. I definitely couldn’t hold someone else back so I gritted my teeth to find the strength, bit down on my tongue that wanted to scream out about how difficult it was, how much I hurt, how tired I had become… I forcefully blinked through the tears that I could no longer hold in and I struggled up those last 200 meters without holding anyone’s hand.

The Final Tori Gate

When I crossed under the final Tori gate and saw my other friends waiting for me, saving me a spot on the summit, cheering because they knew how much I’d wanted to make it, I cried even more because I knew I had done it. I climbed Mt. Fuji and made it to the top to see the sunrise. A cloudy sunrise, but one from the top of a mountain almost 4,000meters tall.

I rewarded myself with a seat on the edge of the summit, facing the hidden sun and trying to eat a candy bar which was pretty much frozen at such an altitude and temperature (7 celsius). As I watched the clouds drift by slowly, thousands of feet below instead of above, I was thankful and blessed that I had come with such supportive people, knowing I may have never made it by myself.

At the Tori Gate, Cold As Ice

After 40 minutes or so, we began the descent. That was a completely different ordeal. Somehow 3-4 hours spent coming back down seemed more difficult than the seven it took to get to the summit; but it may have also been because I started my period on the way back down and didn’t have any breakfast or real food before starting the descent an ended up almost passing out in the gift shop. But even then, someone was there to take my hand.

I climbed Mt. Fuji and I learned that I am stronger than I think. Although it was difficult and my body is still sore, I accomplished a goal that I wasn’t sure was possible for me. I can be really tough and I have people who will support me if I just have the confidence in myself first. I learned that I have to give something my absolute best before I can ask someone to have so much patience with me.

I’m proud I did it, as crazy as it may have seemed for me to do.

Fuji Bound and Chotto Frightened

As I type this, I’m sitting on a bus headed for Mt. Fuji with the full intention of hiking to the summit. I am also a little scared of Japan’s most mythical mountain.

For the past few weeks I’ve been wondering if I actually have the guts to do it. I knew I had the gumption, hence, the unhesitant “yes!” to a friend’s invitation. As Fuji drew nearer, though, I began to seriously wonder if I could climb all the way up. Not without a few tears did I confide in a close friend joining in on the adventure. They reassured me I could do it and promised to help me up the mountain should I happen to need it.

I wonder now if the experience will have a great impact on me. My dad said “be careful”, my mom said “oh my goodness”, the teachers I work with said I’m crazy and told me to “頑張れ!” One of the teachers I teach English with told me that Japanese people believe that hiking up Fuji-san is a good thing for couples to do before they get married because the experience and working together as a team are great for strengthening the relationship before marriage. I found that very interesting because I hadn’t seen it on any of the Fuji information sites I read.

Sitting on the bus now with a few good friends and thinking about the challenge I’ll face in about 12 hours I feel like I can do it because of who I’m with. They actually inspire confidence in me for this crazy climb.

I’ll send a postcard from the top!

耳が痛い!!! (My Ear Hurts!!!)

When I was a young child I had a slight hearing problem. To fix it, doctors removed the adnoids in my nasal cavity and made me wear hearing tubes for about eight years. The upside? I do not snore, except in the rare case that my nostrils get ridiculously blocked. Downside? When my nasal area gets blocked like that, the fluid build-up makes me mad susceptible to ear infections.

Now normally, back home in the States, I’d buy some Sudafed over the counter, take it regularly for about three or four days and case closed. In Japan, though? ちょっと違うよ。Things are a bit different. Here in the land of temperamental weather and crazy sick masks, Sudafed is illegal because it contains epinephrine, a stimulant. Epinephrine is illegal but you can buy what is basically speed at a combini… Go figure.

Anyway, this puts me in a sticky situation because since I can’t really take any preventative measures or properly self-medicate, I am left waiting for the monster incubating in my inner-ear to hatch like an Alien baby and deliver a mighty painful dose of reality in the middle of the night. Take for instance last September. I had only been in Japan for about a month before I got the summer sniffles. I don’t like to take medicine because I like for my white blood cells to train themselves for war every now and again… let me just say, they go down mighty quickly to that inner ear infection. Needless to say, with almost no warning whatsoever (after many years of dealing with this problem, I can feel an infection coming about 3 days before a doctor can even see it on the monitor =/) I am brutally awakened by what feels like someone repeatedly stabbing me in my ear with a knife. Yay.

With no Sudafed I was left writhing in pain and the only things I could immediately think to do were to call my mother in the middle of her workday, and cry. Simultaneously. I searched online for home remedies but I think at that point all I had in my house was a loaf of bread and a carton of milk so many tips were utterly useless. All I found was some advice to chew gum with Xylitol in it, amazingly that stuff is everywhere in this country. Eventually I just resorted to dripping hot water down my ear canal, hoping it would break up that pressure.

As I waited… and cried, I kept thinking one thing- well, two things actually: it sucks to be contractually forbidden from owning a car or scooter; and WHY ON EARTH IS SUDAFED BANNED?!!?!

When I woke up the next morning after somehow being able to fall back to sleep I thought: man, this might happen a lot here… And here we are, starting round two. Tomorrow, I gets drugs; if I can make it through the night because I definitely can’t drive to a hospital at 3am!

My failed arsenal of weapons. =/

Saying Goodbye

My flight back “home” is tomorrow morning and I have so many feelings about my departure.  I feel happy that I will be getting back to my own apartment, sadness that I’m leaving the baby and my family…  That I won’t be able to see her get older and start walking and talking.  I feel regret about not being able to see a few friends I wanted to see before leaving.  I feel apprehensive and excited about getting back into the swing of things at school… starting a new semester trying to teach some kids, trying to work with a teacher who don’t seem to like me too much or at least doesn’t know the meaning of the words “team teaching”.

I think I’m just ready to get things back to normal.  It’s funny that after five months I feel like this has become my “normal” even though I’m still not used to climbing up and down five flights every day.  And I’m still not used to the trek up from the train station.  And I’m still not used to people gawking at me each and every place I go.  And I’m even still not used to the different foods I’m eating everyday.

I guess I’ve already become used to  hearing people all around me speak Japanese instead of Spanish/Chinese/Vietnamese/Tagalog/etc.  I’ve become used to studying Kanji daily.  I’m used to sleeping on a futon.  I’m used to taking three days to dry my clothes enough to wear them… they’re never fully dry, just “not too wet.”  I like living in Japan… for now.  I’ve embraced the differences for the most part.

I’m going home tomorrow and I guess I’m just excited and ready to get back to life as usual.

You Can’t Go Home Again, I Guess

I’ve been looking forward to visiting home for a while now.  I wasn’t around for the birth of the baby and I was excited to see the little bundle of life that was created inside of and birthed from my sister.  I was excited to see my parents.  I was excited to see my siblings who understand me like no one else.  I don’t know what happened, but when I got here, I felt so different.

I’ve been in Kobe for just 5 months now, but coming back I feel like an outsider.  Not from any negative feelings or sentiments from family; by no means.  Everyone seems so excited to have me back for a visit, but…. I dunno.  I can’t really put it into words, but I feel a little like I don’t belong.  Even more, I feel uncomfortable.

I wonder, have things really changed so much in my life that I feel like I’m on the outside looking in?  Is it because so much has happened while I’ve been gone that I feel out of the loop?  Is it that I’ve created a different world or part of my life that is completely separate from that of my family and I’m just not used to that experience?

Don’t get me wrong, I love my family with my life; but I don’t know if the decisions I’ve made or will continue to make with my life will push me further away from them.  When a belief is not just a part of your personal thinking, but most of your cultural experience, what happens when you change things up a bit?

They will probably love me no matter what, but for me it casts a bit of a shadow over all the exciting visit.  Now, there is also apprehension and doubt.

I think I will try to just push all these thoughts aside and sort them when I go back to Japan; if that is even possible.

It’s also hard because I don’t have an outside person to talk to, not so much here in California.  The strongest non-familial relations I have right now are all in Kobe… on a 17-hour time difference, with school schedules and roaming charges to think about.

Yay 2009… this feels a bit like a punch in the emotional gut.

Have a Very Merry

It’s Christmas here in Japan… well… what’s left of it anyway.  At 11:30pm Christmas is pretty much over; especially in a country that loves the commercial aspect of the holiday and believes it is celebrated with buckets of Kentucky Fried Chicken and Christmas cakes.

I don’t even know what a “Christmas Cake” is; all I know is that when I asked my students what they wanted for Christmas, several of them said Christmas Cake.  I don’t know what type of cake is used for Christmas here in Japan: chocolate, fruit, rum… I have absolutely no clue.

I do know that this Christmas has been kind of weird and a little lonely, even.  I mean, it hasn’t been completely lonely… I got to spend an early Christmas with a family and have a turkey dinner and play some Mario Kart on the Nintendo Wii with a set of gorgeous and absolutely amusing children… but having to work on Christmas (because I couldn’t justify to myself taking paid-leave to sit in my apartment all day alone) and then come home to a lonely apartment with no music, no family, no comfort foods… it was chotto tough.

I don’t want to sound like a wet blanket, though.  I will admit that I did get a nice little mini-vacation the weekend before Christmas, and I will be going home on the 9th for a visit with family, so I don’t have too much be negative about especially since school is out for vacation and (because of my trip home) I won’t have to teach until late January.  That’s a nice feeling.

So, Merry Merry; Happy and the like.  Spend time with the ones you love.  =D

Socially Speaking…

The teachings of my parents coupled with painful social experiences through gradeschool made me develop and maintain as truth the idea that everyone, no matter the case, deserves a fair shot to show themselves (their personality) to you before you make any judgements against them.  I try to practice this with every person I meet, I am not 100% all the time, but I’m pretty good at giving everyone the chance I believe they deserve; so when I meet people who so adamantly prejudge others, it always kind of rubs me the wrong way.

I know I’m not going to get along with everyone I meet, but I will let the other person’s (re)actions decide that for me.  I try not to write people off until they act negatively against me personally… even if they have a bit of a reputation for being a mean person or something like that.  People deserve the benefit of the doubt.

Someone said to me last week that they can’t afford to give people the benefit of the doubt, I guess they’ve been burned too many times.  I responded that I can’t afford not to because of my belief that everyone on this planet is the same and deserves the same amount of initial respect.  What they do to gain or lose respect, though, is a completely different matter.

In that same vein of respect, I find that if you acknowledge that you will not become fast-friends with everyone, you should still be able to maintain respect for others.  If you find someone that you do not get on particularly well with, make amends and move on with your life.  Constantly speaking negatively about someone and openly sharing your disdain for same-said person will rapidly make me lose respect for you as a person.

To say things like someone is “not cool” makes me automatically feel like you’re also “not cool” for so simply debasing someone.  Also, to say that someone says “stupid things” however often shows that you don’t often listen to yourself because no one speaks poetry at every utterance; and to me even says that probably say many dumb things yourself.

In the case that you are ever placed in a relatively small community of people who live in the same situation as you, work in the same occupation as you, and are a part of the same employment/exchange program as you it seems unwise and just plain rude to openly and oftenly make negative remarks about people that you must be around weekly.  You never know what ears may hear and how third parties may feel about you and also about the person you despise so much.  In fact, it may even cause people that you do get on well with to lose initial respect and wish to avoid making contact with you in further instances.

It’s sad to say that in conversation with the one who does not give people the benefit of the doubt, they mentioned this type of thing and I said “I can’t really imagine that happening”.  Well, then.

Epic Bug Battle – It Was Chemical Warfare

I like butterflies.  I like roley-poleys or pill bugs or potato bugs or whatever people decide to call them.  I am okay with dragonflies, even; but outside of that, all bets are pretty much off.

This morning I took an extra bag to work and left it on the floor under my desk alllllll day.  When I came home, I took a smaller, plastic bag out of it and set it on the counter, walked away.  I came back later to put my empty ramen bowl in the sink (I made my own dinner, btw… give me a pat on the back) and when I set the bowl down, out of the corner of my eye I saw a roach.

“afkljalkjpoagjpodj!!!!!” was my immediate reaction.  I screamed, backed away from the counter, and literally stood there for 2 solid minutes thinking “what am I going to do!??!?!”  Now, please realize, I’ve been in my place for almost a month.  It was absolutely spotless when I got in here and I try to keep it pretty well maintained.  There are tiny little bug bait things in every corner and I have only seen a bug in here one other time; and that was a tiny one, right next to the window, before my screens got put in, so it could have just flown in.  Also, I live on the fifth floor… I hear you get less bugs like that the higher up you are… who knows.  And another thing, anyone who knows me knows I do not play well with big bugs.  I am almost paralyzed with fear and getting closer than 10 feet will make me scream and get antsy and jittery.

Anyway.  As I stood in my kitchen, mouth agape in total shock, I couldn’t help but think of how leaving my bag on the floor under was a terribly bad idea.  I also wished I could call someone to come take care of the problem but seeing as how the only person that ever volunteered for that job is currently out of town, I knew I’d have to take care of this problem myself or else I would not be able to sleep tonight for fear that the giant monster bug would [a] plant eggs and/or babies all around my apartment; or [2] come and land on my face while I slept.  Neither of those were good options for me.

So I grabbed a can of what I assume to be mosquito spray, I can only guess from the pictures on the can.  I assumed that what works for one flying bug should work for another.  But I couldn’t just walk up on the bug and start spraying, so I grabbed my broom out of the closet, all the while thanking God that I bought the one with the plastic bristles.  I stood as far away from the counter as I could and one-by-one knocked the few items into the sink because I didn’t want that thing to up and start flying around because I would probably have run screaming right off the balcony or something.

As I knocked the last item into the sink, I just started going crazy with the mosquito spray.  ksssssssssssssss kssss ksssssss ksssssssssssssssssss I hope that stuff isn’t too poisonous because I sprayed so much that I’d at least have cancer by now.  As I was spraying, the l bugger crested the top of a tupperware containing edamame that I was sure as heck not going to eat now.  I screamed again and started smashing away with the broom.  Then immediately went back to spraying kssss kssssssssss.

I feared that the spray was just not direct enough… it was more of a mist, so I headed back to the closet to beef up my arsenal of weapons.  This was now chemical warfare.  Everything is in Japanese, mind you, so I’m just going with whatever pictures are on the bottle, or smelling for confirmation.  I grabbed some foamy stuff that you spray in the toilet, a blue bottle of something, and a little green bottle of what smelled like bleach.  I hurried back because I didn’t want it to come out of its stunned phase.  I immediately blasted the entire sink and all its contents with foamy toilet spray.  I mean, I pulled the trigger about 50 times.  I couldn’t see the bug so I was just going for full coverage.  When the sink looked nice and snowy, I opened the bleach and poured nearly half the bottle over every bowl and spoon and chopstick.  At this point, I was really glad that I had washed and put away the dishes earlier that day and only had dinner dishes in the sink.

After the bleach I waited a little bit for the chemicals to set in.  Came back to the computer tried unsuccessfully to watch some TV.  I still hadn’t seen the bug to confirm the kill, but with the smells of bleach and toilet foam filling my apartment, I figured it had to be dead.  It was me or the bug.  I finally went back to the sink and sprayed a few more times.  Then I saw it.

Belly up and motionless, I guess that meant I was successful and had scored a kill.  But I’ve heard stories about roaches being hard to kill… so I just kept spraying.  and spraying.  and spraying.  It’s been about 30 minutes since the epic battle came to an end… and the bug is still in the same spot, I checked.  But to be sure, I just sprayed it about 5 more times.

I feel like I can possibly go to sleep now without fear that it will rise from the grave and fly directly for my face; but I know I will not be able to eat in my kitchen for awhile… even if the place is SPOTLESS…. my God.  I have to give it time.

I.Hate.Bugs.

Procrastination Hurts

I’m not generally a procrastinator… I like to work on things little-by-little early on in the project, so that when I get closer to the deadline, I’m not freaking out.  I don’t know what it is about finals, though, especially in Spring, that just make me about the most procrastinating person ever.

The last final, and I mean last final of my undergraduate career is due to be presented Tuesday.  It’s a video piece.  I’m probably only 25% done.  I’m pretty sure it’s because I had to re-shoot it but I found that out just 2 days before a 6-day long trip to Arkansas for my Grandmother’s funeral.

Right now, I know I should be working on the piece but good lord I just feel so unmotivated!  Not motivated?!  You ask, But you’re about to graduate!  What more motivation do you need?!?!  It’s that semester-end thing where I’m just barely crawling over the finish line.  I am overwhelmed with the many things that life is throwing at me now.  I know that I will complete it tomorrow.  I know that I will pass the class.  I know that I will graduate.  But at 9:06pm PST, at this very present moment, I don’t know if what I produce will even be halfway decent.  I’m just so done already.

I need to find employment.  I need to clean my bedroom which is an utter pigsty because I did laundry the morning I left and didn’t get a chance to put it all away.  When I got back at 2:30am, I pushed everything off my bed and collapsed and have been so busy since returning that I haven’t had a decent amount of time to clean.  I need fingerprints.  I need to get 2 sets of paperwork done.  I have to submit volunteer hours.  Worry about getting bills paid (I haven’t worked since January because I was looking after my grandmother, going to school, and taking Japanese classes).  I also have to train 5 people before I leave in August.

Sometimes I just get so worried about stuff that I just want to drop it all and start from scratch, but I can’t really do that, so slosh through it I must.

But I don’t mean to sound like a drag.  There are some silver linings to my clouds:  I made an awesome new friend last month who absolutely makes my days.  I will be graduating with a BA degree by the end of the month.  The Drive-In is open.  I have a full summer to spend with great friends before I move to Japan in August.  I will be a first-time Aunt come October.  I will be independent.  I will almost be like a real grown-up!

So there you have it.  Once I get over this hump called May (which, oddly, seems to be a big hurdle every year), it will almost be smooth sailing for a while.

And with confidence somewhat restored, I will rest and relax tonight and (hopefully) go full-throttle tomorrow, probably chatting with my buddy throughout the day, ha!  Oh yeah, and my sister and her husband come back tomorrow, too… so that’s always nice.