A few things to note about Japan...

Kyoto, Japan

I have heard that Japan is the most culturally different country from the United States. Whether this is true or not is up for debate. Several things were alarmingly more wonderful and efficient compared to the United States and some things were...well…different.

A few things to note:

The subway:  I never would have thought that riding an escalator in one of the world’s busiest subway stations would have been an enjoyable experience, but I was pleasantly surprised. In Tokyo, there was an unwritten rule that you kept to the left on the escalator if you wanted to ride up and to the right if you wanted to walk up. Thinking we had the system down, we were a little surprised when they switched things up in Kobe and kept to the right to ride up and went to the left to walk up. (I later found out this has somewhat of a historical context, related to folks in one half of the country who were warriors kept their swords on one side vs. the other half of the country where folks were merchants and kept their money pouches on the opposite side. Mystery solved.) As if the journey to and from the actual subway car wasn’t exciting enough, imagine entering the train single file in a nice orderly fashion after those wishing to exit were able to do so. In New York, I became accustomed to getting trampled each and every time I wanted to get on or off the subway. It’s everything I love about New York only more polite.

Trash Cans: Or lack there of. Japan is one of the cleanest places I have ever been. And to be honest I have no idea how they do it despite their lack of trash cans. My first day there, I went on more than one wild goose chase in order to deposit my trash in the proper receptacle. I later found out that years ago there was a bombing in one of the subway stations where the bomb itself was placed in a trash can, hence the lack of trash cans. Moral of the story: If you visit Japan, prepare to pack it in and pack it out.

Surgical Masks: When they had these scares about SARS and Avian Bird Flu all over the news several years ago, they showed hoards of Japanese people wearing paper surgical masks. Then every time I saw someone in New York with a surgical mask, I was secretly hoping they didn’t know something that I didn’t and that some pandemic wasn’t on its way. So now I’d like to dispel the rumor that everyone who wears a surgical mask has some type of horrible disease. Most wear them because of allergies. With the amount of Kleenexes I go through on a weekly basis, the surgical masks aren’t such a bad idea.

Sit and Eat: It’s a nice idea, sitting and eating. As Americans it’s not always something we take the time to do. We have become a nation of drive throughs and take out menus. In Japan, while there are an over abundance of convenience stores with a wide variety of instant ramen to tempt your taste buds, there are very few public places to sit and eat it. (Squatting on the floor in a train station to finish off your lunch is also frowned upon in case you were wondering.) So plan ahead, sit, relax, and enjoy. 

Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes

Hiroshima, Japan

One of my goals in visiting Vietnam was to learn about the war from their perspective and after hearing the story of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes, I felt it was equally important to learn about World War II from the Japanese perspective. One of the Resident Directors, along with the ship’s librarian, proposed that we as a shipboard community make 1000 paper cranes in honor of Sadako and her mission of peace. For those of you unfamiliar with Sadako’s story, Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes is the true story is of a girl, Sadako Sasaki, who lived in Hiroshima at the time of the atomic bombing by the United States. She developed leukemia from the radiation and spent her time in a nursing home creating origami cranes in hope of making a thousand of them. She was inspired to do so by the Japanese legend that says that one who created a thousand origami cranes would then be granted a wish. Her wish was simply to live. However, she managed to fold only 644 cranes before she became too weak to fold any more, and died on 25th of October 1955. Her friends and family helped finish her dream by folding the rest of the cranes, which were buried with Sadako. I hadn’t heard of the story until shortly before we arrived in Japan, but after learning how to fold a paper crane (it only took me 45 minutes on my first try) and hearing the story, I felt compelled to just keep folding. My two dear friends and I went to Hiroshima during our time in Japan to learn more about the atomic bombing of Hiroshima and to help these cranes find their way home. The Hiroshima Museum was incredibly impactful and something I think every American should see if they are in Japan. There were times when it was hard to look, but even at times that I turned away from images I didn’t want to see, I consciously reminded myself that it was incredibly important for me to see these things, no matter how difficult it was. This is as much a part of my history as an American as it is of the people of Japan. After visiting the museum, we visited the Children’s Peace Memorial where we dropped off the cranes. There were over a dozen glass cases housing cranes that had been brought to Hiroshima from classrooms, church groups, families, and individuals from all over the world. Many of them had notes in other languages, no doubt wishing for world peace much as Sadako had done 60 years before. We hung the cranes that our shipboard community had made, somehow trying to take in everything we’d seen that day. Although, we didn’t quite reach 1000, we estimate that we folded over 600, one for every student on board.

In making our way back to the train station, winding through the city, I couldn’t help but be surprised that Hiroshima was as big as it is. I expected it to be this shell of a city, centered around the memorial, with only tales of its horrific past to offer to the outside world. But I was wrong. It is a large city, bustling with school children, families, and the goings on of everyday life, just like I’d seen in other Japanese cities I’d visited thus far. I was actually very pleasantly surprised to learn this about Hiroshima. In a way, it reminded me of New York City and the area surrounding the World Trade Center site. They built a space where members of their community and people from all over the world can come reflect, remember, and learn about the past. Even though time stopped on that tragic day, they rebuilt and are now stronger than before. This horrific thing happened here, but it doesn’t define them as a community.

I think I'm turning Japanese I really think so

Yokohama, Japan

Getting to Japan proved to be quite the adventure. The past couple of days had been pretty rocky then about 24 hours before we were scheduled to arrive, it was as if we’d interrupted Ursula and King Triton in the midst of the ultimate battle royale. The skies opened up and the ocean was as angry as I’d ever seen it. It was like we were smack dab in the middle of an episode ofm Storm Stories on the Weather Channel. When the ship would come back down to sea level after being sent airborne by a giant wave, a thunderous boom would sound throughout the ship, sending young children were ricocheting off the walls like pin balls and catapulting students out of their seats which made for an interesting class day I’m sure. It was really quite terrifying. I thank my lucky stars that our portholes on the second deck were closed. I was hoping when they opened then, I would find a cute little octopus stuck to the window to commemorate the occasion, but no such luck. So needless to say, when we woke up alive, we were excited to see land.

The day started with a view of the Yokohama skyline with Mount Fuji looming in the background. And in true Japanese fashion, we received quite the fanfare for our welcome, complete with a marching band and a color guard. Apparently this is common for ships docking in Japan. I hate to break it to the students, but most of the people in these ports will barely notice that we’re there let alone roll out the red carpet for our arrival. Way to set the bar too high, Japan.

The perfect storm severed our internet and our connection to the outside world, so I wasn’t able to solidify plans with the wonderful folks I know in Japan. I attempted to find internet about every 50 feet upon arriving in order to touch base with them, but who knew in a country so enamored with technology that it would be next to impossible to find wifi? And that everyone I know with an international cell phone doesn’t actually know how to use it?

So with the last minute change of plans, I headed to Tokyo Disneyland with my dear friend Christine, who is perhaps the biggest Disney fanatic I know. It proved to be quite the cultural case study. I could count on one hand the number of white people I saw in the park, including all of the Disney princesses. I found it odd that the main characters were all white, but the-shall we say-backup dancers were all Japanese. It was also quite interesting to see the effects of Disney mania on Japanese culture and vice versa. It was distinctly Disney, but with a Japanese flavor all its own.

Another something worth mentioning is Toto. No, not the little dog too from Kansas, the fancy ass toilets they have in Japan. Christine was actually the one to introduce me to Toto at her home in Southern California, but Toto and I had another run in at our hotel in Tokyo. I was finishing my business and enjoying the heated seat (we could all use one of these in the middle of the night during a Midwest winter, let me tell you), when it came time to flush. Simple enough, right? Wrong. I hit a button that looked like water flow. Well that picture wasn’t to indicate water flushing, it was to indicate water coming towards your bum to fashion as a bidet. It was all well and good, until the tube jutted up and out of the toilet bowl, proceeding to spray the entire water closet with water. By this time, I was up and off the heated seat, frantically pushing buttons to get it to stop, yelling for Christine to come and help. (Anytime someone yells for help from the bathroom, that’s never a good thing.) Luckily, I somehow happened upon the magic button that made it stop, but by this point the bathroom was soaked and Christine was in stitches, laughing away at my misfortune. I feel like everyone has at least one good Toto story upon first visiting Japan and there’s mine. Hope you enjoyed it. 

“You know the only other things guaranteed besides death and taxes? Pasta, pork, and potatoes.” –Student, on the cuisine aboard the MV Explorer

“On a scale from one to not fun, this is not fun.” –Student, on filling out immigration paperwork for 12 countries simultaneously

Back to the Future

We are crossing the International Date Line today, so for all intents and purposes January 21 doesn’t exist aboard the MV Explorer. Someone pointed out that our little ship can now rival the Delorean since we are now able to time travel in our own right, going back to the future sans Marty McFly. It is only through the magic of the internet that I can date this post January 21 and write to you from a parallel universe, from a day that doesn’t exist. 

Apples and Oranges

Comparison. It’s natural when you have been around the block before, even a block as incredible and as vastly blue as this one. As much as I try to eradicate, “Well on my last voyage…” from my vocabulary, I find it creeping into my thought process every so often. Repeat voyagers all say the same thing: You have to treat each voyage as its own experience. Comparing them will get you nowhere. Turns out, this is great advice. Even on the same ship with a handful of familiar faces, I owe it to this experience to let it stand alone and not to ride on the coat tails of its predecessor, summer 2010.

I don’t want to make it seem like I’m not grateful because I am. I’m extremely grateful for this opportunity and the people I’ve met and the places I’ve yet to see. Although it has been a bit more logistically challenging (having folks bend over backwards to help you uproot your life in Alaska and spend the next three months on a ship with 6 weeks notice did have its perks), but I think at the end of the day, the logistical challenges and empty wallet will be well worth it.