Forest Bathing

Not so long ago, the Interwebs taught me that the Japanese had apparently come up with a concept called shinrin yoku - forest bathing.  The idea is that it's therapeutic to get out in nature and smell fresh air and walk on unpaved ground and all that good stuff.  This weekend I had the opportunity to do exactly that.  See, this post is brought to you by my photography class.  I'll be writing about THAT particular endeavor in the near future; for now, suffice it to say that I got it into my head that one of my photos should be staged in Aokigahara - Japan's infamous suicide forest.

Now, I'd be lying to you if I claimed that the Sea of Trees - as it is known in Japanese - held no dark fascination for me.  Y'all know me better than that.  However, I hesitated to go there, even before some American jackass made a fool out of himself on Youtube by posting the video showing him finding a dead body there.  Because actually, that was exactly what made me hesitant.  I feel like I'm made of pretty stern stuff, and the possibility of spiritual remains doesn't phase me.  Physical remains, on the other hand, would have to be dealt with, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that.  That said, I knew in my head that I was unlikely to actually find anyone, which means I just needed a good excuse to me get out of the city.  Such as my photography course.

And the more I learned about the forest, the more interested I was in going.  It grows on a bed of lava that hardened after Fuji-san blew its top in 864 CE.  Since the ground is impenetrable, the trees' roots snake along the surface.  The trees grow close together, so it's cool and shady, and moss clings to many surfaces.  There are even special kinds of plants that grow there, although unfortunately I missed getting to see the white plants that grow there.

Geologically, the lava flow left behind lots of really cool (literally) caves.  Although the website I used for planning my visit suggested taking the bus to Saiko Bat Cave, when I got to Kawaguchiko station, the helpful info lady said the next bus would go to the Fugaku Wind Cave, so that was the one I ended up going to.  You could still see the way the lava moved, even after more than a millennium.  There was also a display inside that talked about how the cave was used for storing seeds and silkworm eggs, allowing for preservation and increased production. 

So I finally went this weekend.  As I sat in Jonathan's* having my weekly R&R**, I plotted my course.  It seemed that the Sotetsu bus from Yokohama was my best option.  Unfortunately, the next one wasn't til 12:20 and you had to book in advance.  Oops.  So I decided the time had come for another one of my epic*** rail journeys.  From Kikuna, my nearest and dearest, I rode out to Hachioji on the Yokohama line, then took the Chuo line for Otsuki.  And THEN I got the Fujikyu train to Kawaguchiko.  All told it took me about 4 hours to get out there.  Luckily the return trip somehow shaved off an hour.  It cost around 2400 yen as well, which was 400 yen more than the two and a half hour bus ride.  So, y'know.  Learn from my fail.

When I finally got off the last train I was dismayed by how many other people were around.  Kawaguchiko seems well off the beaten path, and it's not late enough in the year for going up to the top of Fuji.  I still don't get it.  Maybe it was the cherry blossoms.  While the sakura here has been pretty well denuded for the last week, the hills were alive with the sound of music...as long as the music sounds like this.

So I was afraid that there were going to be shit tons of people in the forest, which could be mendoksai for my photography.  As it turned out, though, whatever drew all the tourists, it wasn't the sea of trees.  Once I left the road behind, I was alone.  I passed one group who were exiting as I was going in, but that was it.  Thank goodness last night's Supernatural wasn't one of those "creepy forest creature" episodes, because honestly that could have transformed my appreciation of the forest's peaceful natural beauty pretty fast.

Once I got away from the road, it was quiet beneath the densely packed canopy.  A little sun streamed in, but it was cool.  The trees hadn't fully greened out, but the moss largely made up for it.  The ground was uneven, but soft under foot, layers of decomposing materials on top of each other: wood, leaves, moss, needles.  In fact, sometimes my footfalls sounded as if the forest floor was hollow.

I came to a fork in the path after a few minutes.  One led to the bird park, another promised a "rough trail" to the village.  I decided a rough trail sounded good, and took the right fork.  I quickly discovered that by rough they meant "unfinished," as in "it was a rough sketch of where to walk in the woods."  There were a couple of times where I came close to losing the trail.  Which probably wouldn't have been the end of the world as I have a pretty good sense of direction, but from what I understand, you're also more likely to stumble on undiscovered remains away from the trail, so I felt no need to prove that I'd be able to find my way back out of the forest without a path.

When I got to the next fork and realized I still had a long way to go toward the village, I decided it was time to head out of the woods.  I hopped on a bus that I thought was going back to the station, but ended up taking the scenic route - which I mean in this instance both literally and colloquially.  Getting a little closer to Fuji-san was a nice side bonus to this expedition.  As an artist I try not to pass up opportunities to look at the iconic mountain, particularly when I've spent the last week watching anime about camping around it.  I was kind of wishing I could've stayed the night and explored more of the area.  Maybe in my next Japan life I'll do exactly that.  Instead, when I got back to the station I walked to a nearby yakiniku restaurant and restored my vampiric HP with some tasty beef and a dolsot bibimbap.  Having sated my unholy appetite, I got my ass back to the station to begin the trek home.

So that was my Aokigahara adventure.  If you hate people and want to try out a little forest bathing, I can't think of a better place to do so.  Although, admittedly, I'm not really an outdoor cat, so what do I know?  After all, I was too busy taking pictures to relax and embrace nature, not to mention I have a healthy dislike of bugs getting in my hair, clothing, backpack, or really anywhere near me.  Since I got the shots I was hoping for, I felt satisfied calling it a day.


*Closer to home than Denny's...but their French toast isn't as good.
**Read and wRite
***In this usage, a word that means LONG...like, Aragorn and Frodo walking to Rivendell long.

Reunion Time

I badmouth the States in general and Iowa in particular quite a bit.  One has only to look at the huge debacle that is our presidential race to see why, and yet, it has its moments.  I was reminded of this over the summer, when I looked around and had to ask myself if I was in a motherlovin' Miyazaki film.  In the evenings, I'd go outside as the clock crept up on 9 to stroll through fields strewn with fireflies.  In the mornings, I'd go for walks.  These weren't always spectacular, but the morning that I left for AnimeIowa, there was a super-kawaii pink rainbow shining in the sky.  Another morning was layered in fog as I walked around the lake park in Glenwood, where every spiderweb was hung with dewdrops.  It seemed like any minute you might step through into another world.

There's a reason why the word for America in both Korean and Mandarin is literally translated as "beautiful country."  It damn well is.  Case in point: the M_____ family - or those descended from Leland and Elaine, at any rate - decided that this was the year and Grand Lake, Colorado was the place that we should all get together.  If you've never been to Colorado, I'd sum it up as proof that God is an artist and he likes to show off.  When they decided on the end of the first week of August, I didn't think I would be joining, because I had to get back to Mongolia and get my shit together...but then I kept seeing my cousins, aunts, and other assorted familial type people talk about the reunion on Facebook and in group emails, and I thought, "Well, damn.  I don't want to miss that."  So I emailed my aunts who were arranging everything and got myself in on the action.

This involved taking a very long car ride across two states and up over 12,000 feet of elevation with my parents.  I could've made a lot of jokes about taking long road trips with your parents at the tender age of 37, but it's been a month and a half so they've grown stale, besides the fact that it actually wasn't that bad (thanks to several books and my new cat-ear headphones to occupy myself - when my dad's behind the wheel it's nonstop audiobooks and old country music).

Family Portrait, by Uncle John

We stayed at Shadowcliff, a mountain lodge whose roots crossed those of my family tree at some point in the past.  From the room I shared with my aunt and uncle, I could watch a cataract of water tumble over boulders on its way down to the lake.  The internet worked fantastically, which was awesome, because as much as I love my family I would have hated to miss snarky late-night facebook messages from the other side of the world.  And it was perfectly situated...just a short walk down the hill to the main drag of the town, where a certain ice cream shop was selling basil lemongrass ice cream on the waterfront.  The walk back, on the other hand...

For those of you who have never had the pleasure of going to a family reunion, it involves a lot of sitting around and catching up.  Although we are all friends on Facebook, I hadn't seen most of my Dad's family in several years.  Being outdoorsy people who are into all that nature shit (unlike me), several people went out on the lake, and others seized the day with some hardcore hiking.  I spent most of my time battling for the title of "King or Queen of Bad Ideas," with one of my little cousins (he won) and entertaining Bunny, who - after all - only gets to spend a little time each year with her aunt Becky.

There was also the monumental task of feeding a legion.  My aunts assigned meals to different family groups, and for once being single meant that I got the awesome assignment to cook with my cousin Micah and his girlfriend, Nina.  Next-gen single dude, my Uncle David, was also assigned to our group, but he wandered into the kitchen as we were almost finished.  We informed him that since he was late, he could wash dishes.  "I could do that," he said, and apparently meant exactly that - he had that capability, but since we never actually told him to, he didn't.

While we were cooking we made plans to hike up to Adams Falls, which was signposted as being a mile and a half from Shadowcliff.  Since I sacrificed my morning walk in order to cook brekke, I thought this was an excellent opportunity to get my walk in and make the most of the lovely surroundings.  And it was - the waterfall was pretty and I enjoyed talking to Micah and Nina.  They then went on with the loop trail, while I listened to my feet and started back down the trail.  And then started walking back along the highway toward the lodge.  At some point, I realized I was going to have to walk back UP to the aptly named Shadowcliff, and was contemplating how much that was going to suck when my cousin Amanda and her family pulled up and asked if I wanted a ride back?

Family.  It means having someone come along and offer to haul your ass up a cliff.  I love these guys.

A (First Class) Pirate's Life For Me!

This trip is the least prepared I have ever been for travel.  I blame this on my students - if I hadn't spent the last several months immersed in work, I might have been ready for it.  The notes in my travel journal leading up to last week are two pages in all.  I had more than that for last year's spring break in Shanghai, and I freaking lived there!  However, I did have a few things on the list, and the second one was to see Fuji-yama.  In our discussions about Tokyo, Blondie suggested that Hakone made a good day trip to do exactly that, so I went for it.

This was a little daunting, because I didn't have much to go on.  I was leaving from Kawasaki, and I couldn't find any definite information, so in the end, I just went to the station, and when I found a sign that said, "Odawara" (the switching point between the train from Tokyo and the one to Hakone) I crossed my fingers and bought a ticket.  I couldn't figure out how much it would cost, so I bought a platform ticket, figuring I would pay the difference at the machine in Odawara (that didn't quite turn out the way I'd planned, since it was actually a ticket that only lets you on the platform, but I got there in the end).

I have to say that nobody treats tourists like the Japanese do.  When I got to Hakone, I had no idea where my hotel was or how to get there, so I went to the counter for Hotel Reservations, and she was able to tell me three different ways to get there.  Again and again I was able to find help when I needed it, and the fact that I wasn't as prepared for this trip as I normally am didn't turn out in catastrophe the way I thought it would.  Getting to the lake was another way that I benefited from this.  The driver let me off right outside the boat office, and I was so excited that my cruise was coming in less than five minutes that I actually splashed out and paid an extra 500 yen for a first class ticket.

Ooh - luxury!

I was grinning like a huge idiot when I presented my ticket for admission into the first class cabin, and there's a possibility that I might walked around singing, "Royals," because I was the only one in the whole damn suite (okay, almost the only one - the other two first class passengers were up deck and getting snacks).

I found my way upstairs, where I particularly enjoyed the view of the people in steerage, huddled together at the other end of the boat and looking miserable.  I had a great view and all that space to myself, and yes, I might have laughed out loud because I felt privileged, all for the low, low price of about $5.  Who the hell says I'll never be royal?!

Of course, the boat was just about as cheesy as it could get.  The pirates on deck were a nice touch, as was the Roman masthead.  The sails and rigging looked great, but were completely non-functional, since the boat was motor-powered, although I really didn't care.  The fact that it was so ridiculously corny actually added to it, if you ask me.  When I got tired of it (and the wind and the chilly air), I went back to my opulent seat belowdecks, and basked in the sunshine and the view.

Peppermint enjoyed climbing the rigging.  She was also excited to have her picture taken with Fuji in the background...like she was in a Hokusai print!  I love Japanese printmaking, and have taught about it a few times now, and this was one of the reasons why seeing the mountain was one of the top things on my list this trip.

Avast me hearties!  I be a brave wench and was not afeared in the least to have me picture taken with yon scallywag!  After all, my own nephew the Dirt Devil is an aspiring sea dog (okay, okay, so he just likes watching Jake and the Neverland Pirates, but I can hope I'm not the only wanderer in the family).  If I'd had anyone but Peppermint to talk to I probably would have spent the whole time speaking in blaggard; since you get enough weird looks traveling with an old, worn stuffed animal without talking to it, I stuck to humming "Royals," and giggling under my breath.

I have to admit, though - the solo flying is getting a little old.  I'm questioning now whether or not I should actually go to Tsagaan Nuur this summer after all.  I found myself almost as worn as Peppermint by the time I got back to UB.  Anywho...

As fun as it was to cruise around the lake (and it was), I came to see Fuji.  My mountain-spotting record has not been perfect this last year.  We did get a break in the clouds when I went to Everest base camp last summer, but it snowed the morning we hoped to see Tavan Bogd.  Sunday it was raining so hard that I had to buy an umbrella (which I then managed to leave on the bus that took me to my hotel), so I was worried that I was going to get skunked.  I guess I'm glad that it ended up being the Ghibli Museum that I missed, not Fuji.  Instead I got to see Fuji three times - on the lake, on the train back from Odawara to Tokyo, and on the plane flying back to Seoul, which was spectacular but I didn't get a shot of it.  I really would have cried if I hadn't seen this amazing scene.  The floating torii makes it perfect.

This is not the Floating Torii - the one you've seen pictures of is in Hiroshima, and I was NOT going there.  I can't imagine it being better than this one, anyways.  After getting off my cruise I took a stroll along the side of the lake (with my noisy little wheelie carry-on - it took me a little while longer to figure out that I should USE the damn luggage lockers) and enjoyed a little rest next to the lake, before making my way back to the docks, slurping up some ramen for lunch, and catching a bus to Odawara for the second highlight of the day.

Whenever, WherEverest

Something I discovered around 3 in the morning at Everest Base Camp, after trying unsuccessfully to sleep for 5 hours, is that I have a second hypochondriac tendency: fear of dying from Acute Mountain Sickness at Everest Base Camp.  I also realized that I missed having someone to travel with.  I go on adventures alone because I can't stand the thought of not doing something just because no one else can go with me, but at 3 in the morning when you're afraid you're about to die because there's not enough oxygen in the air and you can't even go to sleep to dream about more pleasant things, you realize just how much you wish someone else was there with you.  The Energizer was great, and she happily got up when I woke her at five in the morning to get my other bottle of water and can of oxygen, which I'd stupidly left in the car, but she wasn't family or friends.

Our driver, taking the river like a boss.

The drive to Everest was almost as stunning as the destination.  We had to go over three passes to get there (one of which was actually higher than base camp) and the mountains stretching out as far as the eye could see were just breathtaking (and even considering how little breath I had at that point, that's saying a lot).  Before that, though, not far out of Shigatse, we came to a little snag...there was a long line of trucks and buses waiting.  Our incredible driver stopped and assessed the situation - rains two days ago had washed out the bridge we needed to go over - and then decided he was driving through the mother lovin' river.  I learned a valuable lesson that day: never underestimate the value of four-wheel drive!

After a long drive up and down hills, we arrived at our stop for the night, the third base camp (and yes, I almost made a joke about getting to "third base").  This is the one for the tourists.  From third base camp we had to board a bus and go over a few more hills to second base camp, which is where the serious mountaineers get their start, after however long they sit there waiting on the weather.  In view of the second base camp is the original camp.  The Energizer explained that we're not allowed up there; not only is it a cemetery for the people Everest has claimed over the years (the ones whose bodies were recovered, at any rate), but this is also where some tourists flew the Tibetan flag several years back, upsetting the Establishment and consequently screwing the rest of us over (it's their fault that all tourists must now have a guide).

We were really lucky.  I was pretty okay with the fact that the forecast for my entire trip was "rain," but I wanted to see that peak.  I'd been praying, but was still apprehensive until we stopped just after we first came within sight of the mountain, and the clouds very serendipitously trailed their way off the top.  As we were getting ready to go back to our camp, the whole thing clouded over; in fact, it was still cloudy as we drove away the next morning.

And, of course, one must-do experience at base camp is hanging prayer flags.  You're better off bringing them from Lhasa...the Energizer and I both failed on this, and the guy selling them there wanted 30 kuai for them (which is outrageous).  So we split the cost and hung them together.  Lit - these ones were for you.

Head in the Clouds

My father is very fond of telling me I've got my head in the clouds (when he isn't telling me to pull it out of my ass), so this post is dedicated to him.  However, I would like to preface that it is hard NOT to have your head in the clouds when you spend a week at over 3650 meters (11,975 feet - for some reason I am much more comfortable talking in meters when it comes to altitude...maybe it's less daunting).

Day 1: Yumbulagang Palace, the one non-standard sight I wanted to see.

I was really worried about the altitude.  I had problems with it last summer, and Puno was only at 3830 meters (the highest I got last week was Everest Base Camp, 5200 meters above sea level).  Of course, my body then was used to being near sea level, whereas for the last year I've been living comfortably at UB's 1300 meters.  On the other hand, los farmacias around Puno carried all sorts of wonderful drugs for dealing with altitude, while nowhere in all of China, let alone Tibet, can you purchase Diamox.  I am stubborn and I didn't WANT to spend a few days acclimating, so I did some research, and came up with my own altitude cocktail...a coke twice a day and two Advil three times a day, at least for the first few days.  Caffeine and ibuprofen both help relax your blood vessels, so even if I couldn't breathe, at least I wouldn't be crippled by headaches.

For the most part, it worked pretty well (that or I was better acclimated, or perhaps it was the blessing I got from my home teachers).  The first few days I had a very slight headache, and then I was alright until the day we got to base camp.  At the top of the pass to Yamdrok-Tso (a scorpion-shaped lake) it was a little hard to breathe, but I learned circular breathing helped me some - a long breath in through the nose, quickly expelled through the mouth.  Is there any science behind it?  Who the hell knows...all I can tell you is it helped me feel like I wasn't about to suffer an anxiety attack, and helped me to catch my breath a lot faster.

Yamdrok-Tso is supposed to be an exceptionally beautiful lake.  From what I could tell, it actually was.  However, those clouds I had my head in blocked out the sun for most of my trip.  I can't really complain about this, because the one hypochondriac tendency I have deals with skin cancer.  Still, it would have been nice to see the lake all stretched out turquoise under the sun.

All of the photos in this post except the top one are from the fourth day of my trip.  We covered a lot of miles that day, going from Lhasa to Shigatse (originally I was only scheduled to go as far as Gyantse, but the Energizer suggested we go on, and I decided this was fine with me.  We passed several glaciers along the way.  Snow in the summer never fails to amaze me.

Gyantse was probably the most Tibetan place of anywhere we went during the week.  We went to Kumpum Monastery, and saw the palace on the hillside facing it (which is currently shut for repairs, which made me happier than ever that I decided to see Yumbulagang - Domestic Goddess told me she went here on the tour she did, but I wanted to see the other one ever since first seeing a picture of it).  After visiting the monastery the Energizer and I walked down a backstreet, where cows were hanging out, and dogs, and just enjoyed the quiet.