Part 1 (Sapporo to Osaka 2/18) -- On Sunday night after my bus trip to Abashiri and the east coast of Hokkaido to see the Ohotsk sea ice, I arrived back at Sapporo station around 9pm. I still needed to figure out how to print my boarding passes without a printer. I've heard that you can do so at conbini, but had not been successful as yet. I stopped into a seicomart, failed, then headed back towards the dorm. The weather at the coast had been quite cold, but in Sapporo it was the usual mid 20s. In fact, I savored the cool air. I've really re-adjusted to it for the most part, and often enjoy the crispness. Thinking ahead to the hot temperatures that would await me in Thailand, I did my best to soak up the cool. Back at the dorm, I made some maccha and tried to finish up some work, like checking the English for some of Koike-sensei's pamphlets. Before I knew it, it was quite late. Packing had been on my mind, but I hadn't taken out a bag yet. It was around 3:30am by the time I had thrown a bag haphazardly together. Mostly, I have no idea how to pack for such a trip. I am limited to just one bag, a carry on, to save money. This did make packing pretty quick! Running clothes for the most part. Its definitely the lightest I've ever packed for a week. We'll see what the results are. My flight in the morning would be at 9:30am (Sapporo-Osaka). I needed to wake up quite early to take the ~1 hour train ride to the airport. It was about 4am when I went to bed, and about 5:30am when I had to wake up. I had wanted so badly to squeeze in a morning run (one last time while still adjusted and enjoying the lovely cold). Unfortunately, it just wouldn't fit. Really unfortunate, because I was already feeling antsy and frustrated not to have been able to run during the trip over the weekend. I also knew that the next days I would be stuck on multiple planes, and have no chance for exercise. Alas, I've probably lost some of my muscle. Hastily, I made my last preparations , ate the carrots left over in the fridge so they wouldn't go bad, checked to insure that my tickets were on my USB drive to print, submitted my Fulbright mid-year survey, and even had a few moments to Skype my mom and dad as I had promised. They are both very worried about the trip (mostly my dad). I put on my lightest coat, that I can scrunch up to fit in my bag, and my old running shoes. The walk was quite cold because of dressing so light. On the way out the door, the humorous supervisor Satoh-san was organizing the garbage bins. I was out the door at about 6:25am. I had left a note at the front desk to let them know I would be gone for a week, but I was glad to be seen off by Satoh-san because he is the kindest of the 3 and least likely to cause trouble. I needed to make my stop at a conbini to accomplish my unfinished task of printing my boarding passes. I was really nervous that this would be problematic, knowing well my own luck, and that it would cause me to miss my train. My goal was to catch the 7:06am train. Although I had tried to leave giving time to spare, as always it was a little later than I thought. Fortunately, it worked. Then I was off to the station, bought my train ticket, found the tracks, then I was on the way. At Shin-Chitose airport, I had wanted to leave time to snag something for breakfast. I had heard that on the 2F of the airport there was a local coop store with delicious bread. Unfortunately, they only sold things in large packages. But it was a surprise for me to see the nice stores and restaurants on the other floors of Shin-Chitose airport. I had thought of the airport as quite bare up until then, since I had only seen the lower level. Actually, it is very nice. I got Laurel some Hokkaido "corn chocolate" as a souvenir. I waited for my flight and boarded smoothly, catching a last longing glance at the ice and snow outside. I really was nervous I will not appreciate it when I come back, because I'll lose my accustomation to the cold. Departures out of shin-chitose are always quite bumpy due to the turbulence from the mountains I suppose. You feel like you are riding in a tiny one-pilot plane because it is so rickety. My goal in flying to Osaka instead of Narita was firstly that the connecting flights to Chiang Mai seemed to be cheaper and more convenient (although I felt really blind and unsure selecting flights). My second goal was, since there are no reasonable flights (I think) direct from Sapporo to Thailand, I thought that if I needed to fly south anyways why not use the chance to see part of Japan as well. Arriving at Osaka about midday and not flying out until about 11:30pm, I figured this may give me a chance to explore. Regrettably, upon arriving in Osaka I was met by gloomy grey skies and a persistent rain. I had been scheming even, as to how I might be able to run around Osaka-jo (Osaka castle). Now, in the rain, chill, and new city, it seemed overwhelming.
I wandered around the airport for a bit (Osaka is not as nice as Narita, in my opinion, although it does have better food true to the Kansai area's boasts). Grudgingly, I bought an umbrella and tried to sort out the trains headed into Osaka--all about an hour and rather expensive too. The desk workers who I asked for help were all surprisingly unfriendly. In fact, everyone I asked for help or spoke to in Osaka, with the exception of a nice Korean lady, were very cold and unhelpful. I'm not sure if this is an Osaka attitude or if it was just a bad day for everyone. This made the already gloomy atmosphere feel unwelcoming, and discouraged me from asking for help. I felt very lost trying to learn the trains and buy tickets, and to make it to Shin-Osaka station, which was my best guess for a good start. I had little idea of what to do or where to go in such wet weather, though I would have been confused regardless of the rain. I wound up on the nankai line towards Namba station, and made my way towards the city. After all, I still had about 6 hours before I even needed to check in. There was no way I could just waste the time. When I got off the train, I wandered through "donbori" canal streets. These were interesting, but I really did not get a good view or impression of Osaka. These shops and canal streets can be found almost anywhere in Japan. I did find an art shop and a delicious smelling green tea shop. I've finally and very suddenly started to enjoy the taste of maccha, although normally I dislike teas, coffees, etc. I'm very excited to like maccha! I've always like green tea flavored snacks, so it is about time I have at least one tea that I enjoy and will help me stay warm in Sapporo. When I got cold and wet enough, I strolled inside a daimaru to admire the fancy confections, then purchased a yummy bean-filled roll. It was around 4PM by the time. I decided that my one goal should be to get something to east, to warm up and at the very least experience something of Osaka. It turns out that in the Namba subway there is a huge number of restaurants. In the whole area, really, but ALL the restaurants in the underground "Namba city" stroll looked incredible. It was so hard to decide. I kept passing longingly by a mitarashi dango cafe, a number of restaurants, okonomiyaki, etc. I told myself I should eat something more dinner-like. It was about 4:30pm when I worked up the courage to ask an information booth worker how to find a tasty-looking Korean restaurant I had seen on one of the food posters. Consistent with others in Osaka I interacted with, she even laughed a little at my question, as though it should be so easy to navigate the maze of hallways and literally hundreds of shops. Goodness. It felt patronizing the way she explained a map to me, although at least she did mark the route very well with a pen. The restaurant had just ended lunch and was on break til it's dinner hours opened at 5:00pm. I wandered around till then, almost second-guessing my choice and going to other yummy options. Fortunately, I waited. It has been a long goal of mine to try the Korean dish called "bibinba" in Japanese, which I supposed is described as Korean friend rice though it is so much more. Rice is covered in some vegetables, spices, and a raw egg. This is all placed in an extremely hot stone bowl and stirred together, sizzling in front of you in the stone bowl. The Korean waitress let me in (I was the only one, and the first one waiting outside) and I was really happy to learn that one of the bibinba only had veggies. She sat me down and I could overheard her and the cook conversing, and the tantalizing sizzle of food being prepared. She helped me stir the dish when she brought it out, talking with me briefly about what I am doing in Japan, and then even gave me a plate of kimchi after asking if I like spicy foods. It was an incredible dinner and I savored every bite. It made the cold rain and frightening solo travel well worth it. I wandered back towards the ticket gates with a full, warm stomach, and snagged a bread for my bag to eat at my next arrival. I was met again by an icy ticket clerk, but I managed to pry from them their suggested route back to the airport. I arrived back at the airport by about 7:30/8PM, clearly still with plenty of time. I continued to wander and circle around the shops and the four different floors of the airport.
Not wanting to cause trouble by transporting fruit on an international flight (I have NO clue if this is actually prohibited...I just tend to imagine I will cause trouble no matter what) I sat down at the departures gate and ate the apple I had packed. Quite delicious, although I ate it the American way (whole) which is thought of as very strange in Japan. I still had so much time, and I ought to have brought a book. I don't actually have more than two english books with me in Japan, which I have already read numerous times. I could not find anything worth paying a lot of money for in the airport. Eventually, I sat down and drank some maccha in a cafe and tried to finish off more of my Fulbright midyear report. At long last, I went up and got in the long line to check in. I was actually glad for the line, because at least I had something to do. I was nervous the whole time that I would do something wrong and be turned away. After check in, I ran downstairs last minute to try to print my return boarding pass just in case I needed it at immigration. I was dragged, against my protests, to the airport lounge where instead of simply letting me print directly from my USB, the workers made me pay 300 yen for 30 minutes of computer time when all I needed was to print (taking only a few seconds AND I still had to pay at the printer). To be honest, I was really displeased with the attitudes and interactions I had in Osaka. Of course, I was there only a short time, and so I expect that with more experiences, I will have a better impression. I scurried back upstairs to find the gate, made it through security, blindly followed others through immigration and finally was on the plane. It was a big airbus so it took a long time to get everyone situated. I was really lucky to have a window seat, though! Two Japanese men sat next to me. The man to my right had bad breath and the perpetual expression of a gaping fish. He kept taking up most of the space, especially with his arms and shoulders, so that I felt squished. The flight took off around midnight and would arrive around 6am in the morning. It had been my intention to sleep on the flight. Just as I closed my eyes, squished though I was by my neighbor, the lights flicked on. And. Stayed. On. The whole flight! I couldn't believe it--I thought surely they would have the lights of for everyone to sleep. But not many people even seemed interested in sleeping! I do not understand. Needles to say, between not being able to move, bright lights, the man's bad breath, and my head constantly falling, I never did fall aslepp for more than a few minutes at a time. I was very aware of the long flight, watching the seconds creep by.  It was still dark as I peered out of the plane window at the streets below. I could see bright trails of lights snaking through the dark ground (cars on roads, as it happens).
I landed gratefully at Kaula Lumpur. Except it is a tiny place with very little to do, and since I was only transferring planes, I had to stay in the transfer lobby. Though we arrived at 6am, my flight was not until 12:30pm. That meant another 6 hours of nothing to do. And technically, it was day two for me in the same clothes. So I felt smelly and uncomfortable. Moral of the story for me was, if you are able, direct flights seem to be the wiser decision! I should also note that this was my first complicated trip all on my own (besides, of course, the long initial trip to Japan). At times, it was quite terrifying. Especially when the weight of that independence falls upon you (for example, becoming lost about the trains in Osaka.) Of course, it can also feel rewarding when things go right. Still, for major travel I would prefer a companion. At least then you can strategize together. I love traveling on my own because of the freedom, but no so much in such complicated and unfamiliar situations. And yet, the only way to become familiar, is to try!

Part 2 (Kuala Lumpur to Chiang Mai) -- I continued to pace laps about the tiny airport, watching the seconds and minutes inch along. Finally, it was time for the gates to open. I had been standing just next to the gate for at least half an hour, so ready to get out of the airport I was tempted to run out the next open door. Just as everyone lined up, a stewardess picked up the microphone. The plane had been delayed due to traffic. The flight would take off at 1pm, if all went well. I was so frustrated. The line dissipated again. Then at last the plane arrived on the tarmak. Stepping outside, the Malaysia air was humid but not too hot. The skies were still gray and it had rained slightly. As we marched out the glass doors of the airport, walking outside through the paths to the plane, we passed people who had only just disembarked from their flight from Chiang Mai. I saw many wearing Thailand t-shirts and souvenirs. This made me more excited, and to realize even more that I was truly on my way to THAILAND.
Once I boarded my flight to Chiang Mai, I grew more and more excited. I really knew nothing of Thailand, except for the grand images left up to my imagination. Sitting right behind me was a noisy child who was not quiet for even a moment all flight. He would be told to quiet down, and then moments later raise his voice to grating levels. I was lucky once more to have gotten a window seat, however! I gazed out the window as we went, catching glimpses of clouds and ocean, and some lovely peninsulas. Embarkment/disembarkment papers were distributed. I was nervous because I did not have a pen, but the Chinese couple next to me borrowed one to me. There were preparations and announcements to land. I could see Thailand below me! Then we were on the ground, and in front of me was Chiang Mai International Airport in bold letters outside the window. I was there! I still had no idea what to expect. I knew even less about Chiang Mai--the first time I learned of it was in fact from Laurel herself. I was very nervous to go through immigration. This only being my 2nd time out of the U.S., I really felt lost and apprehensive again about such potentially touchy processes. I got in line and slowly neared the desk, hoping for a friendly clerk all the while. The Chinese tourist group ahead of me seemed very excited, but when they reached the counter they were sternly rebuked by the clerk for not fully completing the slips and were sent out of line to finish them properly. This made me very scared. I handed the clerk my papers (scared about any errors), but I was sent through successfully. Then out the gate I went, keeping an eye out for Laurel. I saw her very quickly, sitting on a bench among others and reading. I hurried over to her and surprised her. I had made it! More than a full day of traveling and I was there at last, still wearing my double layer of pants and long sleeve shirt. We hugged happily and then headed towards the exit after I stopped quick at a bathroom to shed a layer and put on a T-shirt. I also exchanged my yen for baht. I was unaccustomed to this currency and had trouble equating the values at first to something I could understand. The air was warm and the sun hot. How welcome a change it was! How happy I was to feel warmth on my skin! We went out the exit, but then had to around around to get back in to reserve a "cab." We went back out the door and were dragged this way and that, then to a bench with a number of other travelers. Cars and red trucks came and went. The whole system was disorderly and subject to the drivers whim. As I would learn more and more, drivers in Thailand may or may not be willing to take you where you hope to go, and might flat out turn you down. Laurel explained that drivers often do not wish to go to her place, because they think it is out of the way, even though it is really just next to Chiang Mai University well within the city.  A couple travelers who had arrived after us were scuttled into a car. Then at last we were pushed into one as well. I tried to absorb the sights around me. It was (and still is) very surreal. We were dropped off at Laurel's apartment building and went upstairs. I had definitely been expecting Laurel's apartment to be more apartment-like. It is mostly just one big bedroom (like a hotel room), with one large double bed, a desk, and a bathroom. However, its saving grace is that it has a tiny balcony with a view of the hills. Quite a spectacular view, actually! I sure wish I had a balcony! After depositing my bag, our first step was to go to Laurel's favorite food stand down the street. It is a snack called mango and sticky rice. Laurel often goes to this same lady. There was a small table outside a shop with a large bowl, a pile of mangos, and a handwritten sign in Thai. Laurel ordered us two. I watched as the lady scooped rice from the bowl and into styrofoam cartons, then selected a mango, peeled it, and sliced it over the rice. She put them into a bag for us with spoons, two little bags of coconut milk, and two tiny bags of puffed rice crispies. Laurel suggested we go sit at the university at some outside tables to eat. We crossed the endless traffic and buzzing motorbikes to reach the other side of the street. The sun was so bright and beautiful as we walked. We sat down in the warmth and opened up our boxes. Goodness, fresh mango! And the whole snack for only 30 baht (~1 dollar!). In Japan, just one mango will cost you 4 dollars!
Laurel showed me how you pour the coconut milk and crispies over it all. It was so delicious. The rice underneath is so sweet and amazing--it is already sweetened by being cooked with coconut milk. It was heavenly. It was in that exact moment that I fell in love with Thailand.
Afterwards, we went for a stroll around campus. It was so beautiful and warm. I kept repeating this, and soaking up the air. And to see all the lovely flowers!! I was so happy. Even though it is the dry season and many plants are also dry, there was no shortage of bright flowers. There were even touch sensitive plants! Just growing naturally all over the ground, and around the streets! Laurel pointed out to me her biggest troubles with the city--primarily, the ceaseless, loud, and smelly traffic (already overwhelming to me in just a few hours!), combined with the stray dogs. Yes, indeed. Packs of stray dogs everywhere, strolling about quite naturally. "Oh, I should probably mention the wild dogs," she said casually. I was very surprised! Apparently, they frequently chase her when she goes for runs! That evening Laurel had an evening exam to give her students. I wanted so badly to go for a run. As a consequence of my weekend ice trip PLUS early departure and long flight waits, it had literally been about four days since I had run. This is far longer than I have ever allowed. My legs and body felt out of shape already and I could sense the lost muscle. But now learning about dogs that would chase me (I had already seen a few, roaming about), plus the very heavy traffic, and the fact that I had no idea where anything was or how to speak and thus feared becoming hopelessly lost, running seemed impossible. Laurel told me I could run while she taught, but I knew it was harder than she assumed because of all these worries. Nonetheless, after Laurel headed to her class and I changed into running clothes, I thought I ought to try. Taking even a few steps down the street, however, and instantly surrounded by the bustle of food stands consuming the sidewalks plus the whir of traffic, I gave up quickly. Instead, I walked a short ways in a straight line before timidly returning to Laurel's apartment (she had fortunately left me with the key). I did a few squats, wall sits, and push ups instead, but my body felt sorely disappointed. When Laurel got back, I finally had a chance to shower. Then she took me to a nearby vegetarian restaurant for dinner. This would soon become my absolute favorite place. It was only a short walk down the street. Called "Pun Pun", the restaurant is not only truly 100% vegetarian (down to every spice and oil), but also organic and local, with a huge menu. There were so many delicious options! I could hardly decide! I was happily overwhelmed, even just glancing through and reading all the delicious sounding Thai dishes. So many things included ingredients like banana flowers, cashews, peanuts, morning glory flowers, coconut, mango, on and on! I've never actually gone to a Thai restaurant before, so although I had a vague idea of Thai food (primarily that it involves a lot of peanuts), everything was new to me. Laurel suggested the black sesame shake to start. I also ordered pumpkin in milk, and a "morning glory flower" vegetable and peanut sauce dish. They were all INCREDIBLE. And for such cheap prices (50baht or about $1.50), the portion sizes were immense! I was absolutely in love. It is only a shame that I would not have longer in Thailand to try EVERY dish. Laurel ordered the Khao soy, which I too would later fall in love with. One of my most important and urgent tasks  in Thailand became the goal of eating as much as possible. I've had some delicious food while in Japan, but believe it or not those foods paled in comparison to even one dish in Thailand! When we got back to the apartment, I checked my email then we graciously went to bed early. With only a light, short cover over me! No freezing, no multiple layers, only pleasant temperatures.

Day 2 in Thailand (Wednesday, 2/20) -- The next day, as Laurel had promised the evening before, we would hike up the hills that could be seen from her apartment. There are two temples on these hills/mountains. One is half way up and the other is perched towards the top. You can see its spires gleam on the horizon when you look up from the city streets. Before hiking up, we woke up early to go for a run since Laurel had to teach in the afternoon. Despite the lovely warm weather year round, it seems that Chiang Mai is not an especially good city for running. Between the dogs and busy streets, Laurel has literally settled on only three small areas to run, and simply repeat lap upon lap around these little spots. We started out walking a bit to avoid a pair of dogs that often chase Laurel, and recognize her. Then we made our way to a small arboretum path, probably only about 300m around. There were made loops. After looking forward so much to running in Thailand, free of ice and snow, here I was doing little loops just like in the tiny running or basketball court facilities in Sapporo. But GOODNESS, did it feel good to wear shorts and to feel heat on my skin. Not to be chilled and shivery from sweat! It was so amazing. After running for a little over an hour, we headed back to the apartment, showered, snagged yogurt from a 7/11 (they are everywhere in Thailand as well as Japan), then started our walk towards the hills. The first part of the walk passed down the street towards pun pun, then turned right down a quieter road. There were monks out and about in orange robes and sandals. This would become a common sight. This road was surrounded by trees and some small farm-like buildings, made of bamboo and straw, with chickens and farm animals. I could hear strange birds calling. Gradually, the road began to incline. Eventually, we came to a small path headed into the trees. This was very beaitufl. In some parts, however, the climb upwards would become extremely steep. Laurel always pushes quite the pace, and I felt like after 5 days off from running, I was already out of shape! At one point, I was completely bent in half trying to climb up. It was well worth it when we reached the first temple. This was my very first sight of the grounds of a Thai Buddhist temple. Quiet, calm, almost completely empty, and tucked away within the hills, the trees, and the green. It was so beautiful. Laurel had said she prefered this on e to the main temple. I could see why. It often hosts meditations. You even cross over a little waterfall--currently but a stream over smooth, worn stone due to the dry season--to reach it, next to a small wooden meditation platform with boddhisatva statues, candles, and curtains of flowers. After wandering about for a while, reading the sayings posted on trees, seeing the many statues and buildings, we headed up the road a bit to pick up the small dirt trail again. This part of the hike was especially steep, although it was punctuated by a number of lovely sights, like giant leaves and beautiful plants. We finally emerged--me quite winded--onto the busy paved road again and it was only a short ways around the bend until we were met by vendor-lined paths, leading up to the main temple entrance of Doi Sutehp. This area was busy and bustling, nothing like the still, peaceful lower temple. Still, it was exciting. The first thing we did was buy a bottle of just-squeezed orange juice and drink it up! It tasted cold and wonderful after our long hike (about an hour and a half upwards). Then I proceeded to buy as much freshly cut fruit as possible. In Japan, I am accustomed to fruit costing an arm and a leg. Often about $1.40 for one apples! And don't even think about buying watermelon! In Chiang Mai, fruits vendors line every street selling bags of many slices of all kinds of fruit you can imagine, with little wooden toothpicks to eat them with--and for only 10 to 20 baht, less than a dollar! I made it a very serious goal to consume as much fruit as possible, prizing each bite dearly. After orange juice, I bought bags of pineapple and papaya at least, before we even entered the temple. As we approached the long, long staircase, we stepped aside to slip on skirts over our shorts. In most temples, garb like shorts and tank tops are not acceptable and you can be turned away. You must wear at least a t-shirt and longer pants of a skirt to be respectful. We began to climb up the staircase, whose rails were the rippling bodies of dragons. There were so many people, Thai and tourist alike. Thailand is a very Buddhist country and many people go to temple every day I was entranced by it all. The the top of the stairs, there was a sign directing foreigners (in English only) to pay an entry fee. But Laurel slyly went past it. (Only writing such a sign in English, by the way, reveals one of the many discriminatory actions in Thailand which I will describe more later--primarily, if you LOOK obviously "foreign"--i.e. non Asian--you will be treated very differently. If you look Asian, regardless of your country, and do not say anything, you will not be singled out. But those stories for another moment.) There is the temple itself in the center and you can also walk around the buildings surrounding it. We went to the stairs and took off our shoes to go inside, and join all the other barefoot temple-goers. Inside was simply gorgeous. It was coated in gold and orange, with ornate patterns, buddha statues, and decorations. I was truly in awe. First we wandered about, looking at all the tantalizing sights. Then we went inside a small room where groups were kneeling in front of a monk, who recited a blessing. We knelt down amongst them, and when the monk finished he splashed droplets of water into the crowd, smiling and saying "blessings for you, bless you!" You are supposed to inch forwards on your knees to have a small cotten string tied around your wrist by the monk. Feet are considered very dirty in Thailand, and the main reason you kneel before monks is to avoid pointing your feet at them, which is extremely rude. Because monks and not permitted to touch women, women must go to the side and have the cotton string tied by a helper. Although it is tradition, I cannot help but be a little insulted. The theory behind it, according to Laurel, is apparently that women may act as a temptation to the monks. In my opinion, however, that should not mean that women may not receive their blessing or not interact with them. That is to punish the woman! Rather, the monk should practice his own restraint and teachings, rather than shifting the consequences to others. But nonetheless, I was very happy for the experience and the blessing. After that, we walked three times around the large statue in the middle, reciting a prayer. You could buy lotus flowers, incense, or candles for this as well as offerings. I wish I understood more of the significance of everything. I almost lost count of how many laps we had done--and we may have done one extra. We exited the temple then and retrieved our shoes to wander around the outside. There were so many figures, statues, alters, and practices which were all new to me. Lastly, we went to see the view of Chiang Mai city from the rail. Perched upon the mountainside, Doi Suthep offers an incredible view. Leaning on the wall and gazing below with the warm sun about me, it was truly magnificent. It was a pleasure for all the senses--the scents of flowers and incense, the warm touch of sun, the landscape, the chirping birds and ringing bells, and the promise of delicious fruit. After descending the long stairs, I even bought some MORE fruit, a bag of sugarcane, a bag of pamello with spicy salt (as per Laurel's suggestion), and another orange juice. Laurel bought a sweet Thai tea. We wandered to some stone benches and tables in the shade behind the venders and ate our fruit and munched sugarcane. What an amazing experience! I felt so grateful and fortunate for everything that had occurred, and my happiness showed on my face. I told Laurel that, even if my experience of Thailand were only that one day, I would be happy. Still only around midday, Laurel suggested we take a red truck (soung tong?) up a bit further to the Hmong village at the top. Being from Minneapolis, Hmong culture is quite familiar to me, but in reality it seems that many outside of southeast Asia are unaware. We had to struggle a bit with the driver, who insisted on waiting and waiting til he had collected 6 people, and we had only 4 in the truck. After waiting quite a while in the hot back of the truck, he told us if we paid double he would drive up with only 4. Clearly, he was ripping us off (as all drivers attempt to do to foreigners, though not to other Thai). But I paid anyways, and we were off. The red truck wound up and up, and the trees and lovely views as we drove were astounding. We passed the King's summer palace on the way. At the top, there were more vendors and many small streets lined with tents selling crafts. The red truck said it would wait for us for 1 hour. We strolled through the streets, and even into some "residential" side streets. Although many of the homes were quite small and simple, with straw or tin thatched roofs, there were odd juxtapositions like fancy cars or satellites, hidden here and there, or peeking out of sheds--indicating the interesting mix of simplicity and modernity, plus the earnings from tourism! There were chickens and cats and dogs walking about, and beautiful views and flowers. Both laurel and I were envious of such a life, up in the pleasantly warm mountains. I could see myself as a painter or a writer, living happily and simply in the easy mountain temperatures, selling artwork and farming. That is certainly a future I hope to achieve (but first I want to get some positive change moving in this world!). We strolled back down, I was talked into buying a bag by a friendly but persistent vendor woman who insisted she had made the bag herself though I later saw them everywhere, then we got back in the red truck to head down. I enjoyed the warm breeze as we drove. Because it was getting closer to Laurel's 4:30 class, we opted to take a red truck back down the mountain. We hopped in and again had to wait in the hot truck for more people to slowly pile in. We munched on sugar cane as we waited. As we headed down, Laurel even dozed. Back on the street where we had started our hike that morning, we searched for a walking icecream vendor. Laurel had described their intriguing, uniquely Thai creation. Sticky white rice is layered with scoops of icecream between two slices of white bread. Then peanuts and chocolate sauce is sprinkled on top. I don't know who had the idea to make such a combination, as it sounds odd, but it is a delicious treat.
The red truck had dropped us off closer to a street that was near to where Laurel had to tutor that afternoon at 4:30pm. Laurel was still drowsy from the warm weather, our hike, and our ride back down. Having a bit of time to spare before she would need to walk to her tutoring, and feeling thirsty myself, I asked if she would like an iced coffee and I would get something with fruit. Walking down the street, we found a cafe. I ended up getting an iced green tea. We drank these, and I drank many cups of water as well. After parting, the plan was that I would walk back to her apartment and work on my reports for the hours she was tutoring. Then I would walk back and meet her. I checked with Laurel again to learn the directions back to her apartment, which she mentioned would take about 40 minutes walking. According to Laurel, or at least according by her tone, it should be a very "simple" route. Go straight into the university gates, then turn left and stay left, following the busiest road until you reach the street of Laurel's apartment and all the food vendors. In theory, it did not sound difficult. Slightly apprehensive, I headed off. Walking straight, I took the first left just as explained. However, very soon after the road split right and left. The road to the right had busier traffic, but Laurel had said to stay left. Yet if I stayed left, it would bring me in a loop back to the road I had started from. Trouble already. I decided to take the fork to the right, because it was the busier one, and Laurel had said to follow traffic. Feeling a little reassured, I followed this. However, very soon, the sidewalk itself ended, and traffic bent around a busy curve. I thought surely I had done something wrong. I turned back, and tried again. But every time, there seemed to other way but the busy, busy street, or roads that ended. I spent a good hour trying to sort out Laurel's "directions." Then I gave up, tried to find a wifi connection for my phone, and figure out where I was on a map. I typed in Laurel's address to find a route. Because it is a university, and because it is not Japan (where wifi is practically unheard of), I was able to pull up a map. It looked like I could go around the outside of campus by main roads to reach her apartment. So I turned around, went back to the road wherefrom I had started, then followed the busy streets on my map. After about 45 minutes of walking and not reaching anything recognizable, I began to doubt whether the map had actually located Laurel's address. I gave up and turned back before I became too hopelessly lost. I still had about an hour or so before Laurel would be done. To spend time, I wandered through the student market across the street, but it was busy and crowded. Defeated, and knowing that there was not time for me to get back to the apartment even if I knew the way, I sat down on a bench near the university gate and next to a soccer field. I sat here as dusk slowly fell, and read an Issac Asimov short story that happened to be on my phone. Mosquitos gradually appeared and started to bite my ankles. I had also wanted to reach Laurel's apartment to retrieve her wallet for her, so she would have money for dinner that evening. When we went to the temple that morning she had only brought a little money with her, which had been quickly spent on fruit. Before we had left the temple she had run out, and so I had paid for snacks and rides after that point. This was no trouble to me, because I was happy to treat her. But she had asked me to grab her wallet from her apartment after I went there, and since I had not been able to reach it, I was nervous that we would not have enough money for dinner. I only had 150 baht left (about 6 dollars) in my bag, and I wasn't sure if that would be enough for two dinners. That evening, we were planning to eat dinner with one of Laurel's friends. At last, 6:30 arrived and I walked the short distance to the gate to meet Laurel. I told her that I had not been able to find the way back, and we headed to try to find dinner. She called her friend to find out where it would be, and we started our rather long walk there. Sidewalks are not always available in Chiang Mai, and traffic is a persistent whir. So walking along the roadsides, it was always a little stressful. There are few sounds that cause me more stress than that of traffic near to my ear. Many restaurants and buildings in Chiang Mai are open to the air, or have a roof with open walls or windows, since the weather is always warm. This restaurant was mostly roof, with some fences and plants for walls. We entered, and Laurel saw her friend. We joined her at the table. Her name is Jackie, and she is also teaching English at Chiang Mai University. She greeted us kindly, and we all slipped into conversation. I introduced a bit about myself, and we compared aspects of our respective experiences in different countries. For example, we compared gender dynamics in Thailand and Japan. An interesting part of Thai culture is that, for all practical purposes, there are actually three categories of gender--male, female, and "lady boy." A "lady boy" is a man who dresses and acts very (stereotypically) effeminately. However, he may not necessarily be gay. And to be a "lady boy" is not generally considered to be a bad or negative thing, as it would be in the United States. It is mostly just considered to be another "gender" category--a third gender. I asked if there was an equivalent for women, and Jackie said that there are certainly "tomboys," and that there are some women who cut their hair short and dress more masculine. They, too, might not necessarily be gay. I was surprised to learn about this unexpectedly progressive situation amidst what is otherwise a rather "traditional" and "austere" society that resists change. Therefore, although Thai culture may be extremely anti-change, it does seem to contain an intriguing mixture of discrimination and acceptance. Looking at the menu of the restaurant, which was not specifically vegetarian, I asked for suggestions of what to order. One of my major goals while in Thailand was to eat as much Thai food as possible, and so every meal was a precious decision. Jackie suggested the Pad Thai, and requested when we ordered that it be made vegetarian. She also suggested I order a fried egg to go on top. It appears that Thai people love fried eggs as much as Japanese people love raw eggs. This turned out to be an excellent decision. The meal was, as all Thai dishes, delicious.

Day 3 (Thursday, 2/21) -- Laurel had class at 8:30 in the morning. We both woke up a little after 7am, and she got ready to go. Together we  walked to the 7/11 that is up the street from Laurel's apartment so that she could grab breakfast. I waved her off, and then I went down the food street to find some delicious fried bananas for my own breakfast. It was only a little after 8am at this point, and like in Japan, vendors and restaurants take their time getting set up in the morning. The lady was still mixing the batter and frying the first batch of bananas, and told me they were not yet done. I went across the street to buy a large bottle of water while waiting. Tap water in Chiang Mai, according to Laurel, is not potable for the most part. In Japan and in the United States, I almost exclusively drink tap water because I absolutely dislike the bottled water industry, so this was a bit of a shame. However, for 1baht (less than a penny), you can fill up your water bottles at UV ray machines. The vendor was still not quite finished with the bananas when I returned, but I waited for her to finish. For 20baht (about 80 cents), I received a heaping bag full of delicious fried bananas. I carried my prize happily back to the apartment. I savored each slice as I worked on my Fulbright mid-year report. Nearing 10am, and feeling satisfied for the moment with my report, I grabbed my bag. To reach the old city, Laurel had instructed me to simply walk straight down the main food street outside her apartment (Suthep street) until I ran into the old city wall. Suthep is a busy street, and as you may know by now, as streets (and most sidewalks) in Chiang Mai are crawling with motorbikes. The sidewalk disappeared and reappeared at will, often being blocked by vendors or motorbikes. Laurel had estimated it would be about a 40 minute walk. She had spoken of this walk as though it were so very far, but I enjoyed it for the most part. The sun was out, the weather was pleasant. It only took me a little over half an hour to reach what I guessed to be the start of the old city. The old city is laid out in a large square, perhaps a square mile in total. This square is surrounded by pieces of the old wall, and part of a moat. Seeing a wall in front of me, I ducked and dodged through the lanes of endless traffic to enter. Within the old city, sidewalks are even more ambiguous than elsewhere. In general, it seems you walk where you can. Nervous about getting lost, I tried to keep my twists and turns simple. I wanted to remember each road, in order to back track. However, I felt this cautiousness was hampering my ability to really see and enjoy the city. Gradually, I worked up the courage to wander farther. The old city is filled with more wats (temples) than you can imagine. There is almost always one within sight. The road that I followed seemed to be a busy one, and I passed some large, very pristine looking buildings. Some were museums, district buildings, and schools. The old city is also full of tourists and visitors. In some places, they even seemed to out number Thai people. If I had to guess, the old city is likely the largest tourist area of Chiang Mai. Prices, to my great frustration, were all double what they are outside of the old city. If you don't look Thai, you can guarantee you're going to be charged a "tourist" price. Although I peeked into the many beautiful wats, through their gates, I was too sheepish to enter. I did not want to offend anyone, or do anything wrong, especially when I could not speak any Thai even to apologize. Although I found the wats to be so ornate, colorful, and beautiful, I admit that I was slightly disappointed by the old city. This is likely because I had expecting it to differ more dramatically from the rest of the city. Aside from the higher tourist density, and wats per square meter, there were shops and buildings like anywhere else. So much seemed to be laced blatantly with tourism to the point of feeling uncomfortable to me. If I paused for too long, red trucks or tuk tuk motorcarts would ask me would try to urge me into a ride. One of my biggest troubles while in Thailand, indeed, was the degree of separation I felt between Thai people and "tourists." I do not really like the blanket term tourist, to begin with. I feel that there is a difference between going to a country as a tourist (to SEE only, and to take only what you wish, as though it is laid out for your benefit only) as opposed to visiting a country. Maybe this difference is only to comfort myself, as I consider myself to be the latter. All these people coming to see Chiang Mai, so many, it was clear, came only to take, only to see what they wanted and act as they wanted. This obviously is not true for all those who come to Thailand. Most definitely not. However, the effect of the self-centered tourist, as I have described, was evident everywhere. Often when I passed Thai people on the street, trying to smile and appear friendly, I could hear the word "farang" uttered condescendingly behind me. "Farang" is Thai for "foreigner." As far as I could tell, it has negative connotations. From the general tone, you would have guessed they spoke of something obnoxious or unappealing--simply put, not Thai, and forever separate and ignorant. It reminded me of the word "gaijin" in Japanese. I dislike to be called either. The number of times I hear "gaijin" uttered in my presence is beyond count. "Gaijin" literally means "outsider" or "outside person." It is a truncation of the word "gaikokujin," meaning literally "person from another (outside) country." When shortened as it is, it sounds so harsh and excluding to me. If I use the word at all, I try to use "gaikokujin." As I think about it, traveling to Thailand was my very first experience as a "tourist." In coming to Japan, it was with the goal of living here for a year. While I am still often held at arm's length, or regarded as "foreign", I am not a tourist. I am a resident, even if it is only for a little while. In Chiang Mai, I was not a resident. I was visiting for only a week. It saddened me to be judged, and dealt with accordingly, simply by my face. One of my biggest barriers to try to counteract this was the fact that I did not speak Thai. If I EVER travel to another country again, I am making it a requirement that I learn at least a little bit of the language prior to arriving. This is a basic courtesy, for one thing, and at least in some small way might help to interact with others in a positive way. If you visit a country, it should be with respect and interest for the culture of that country. Not self-centeredness and entitlement. I have more to reflect on this, for other days. Somehow, I very successfully navigated myself back towards where I had entered. On the way, I passed a colorful looking shop selling buns. They resembled what are called "manju" in Japanese--white, soft dough with a center of meat, bean paste, fruit, or any filling you can imagine. At this shop, there were all sorts of colors and unique flavors. Black sesame, pumpkin, coconut custard, sweet corn, bean paste with chestnut, taro, mango, and these are just a handful. I had trouble choosing, as always, but then selected bean paste with chestnut at the center. The lady heated it up for me. I ate it as I hurried back towards Laurel's apartment, not wanting to be late. However, true to my love of food and vendors, I also bought a thai ice cream sandwich (to cool off from the noonday sun, of course!) and further down a bag of watermelon. Two HUGE slices, for only about 80 cents. My brain really has been altered by the prices of fruit in Japan. Watermelon is very literally given as a gift, because it is so expensive in Japan. I rarely eat it, except as a treat. I did my best to make up for lost time. Looking like a goofball as I tried to balance a giant slab of watermelon on a tiny wooden stick as I walked, I enjoyed each juicy bite! I saved the other to give to Laurel. Even with all my distractions, I arrived a bit early and waited for Laurel at the gate, underneath a cluster of vines with small, pinwheel purple flowers. For lunch that day, Laurel had us go to the Chiang Mai University student cafeteria which has a cheap, but delicious vegetarian buffet. For about a dollar, you receive a heaping plate of rice, and your choice of the vegetarian dishes ladeled over it. I chose three different dishes. Laurel has a habit of pouring red pepper over her food. I tried to follow her example, but could not quite tolerate as much, though I love spice. I also drank a whole bottle of water in one sitting. By the end, I felt very full for once! I almost never feel full! After lunch, in order to digest the food in our protruding bellies, we went for a little stroll. I had a chance to glimpse the university agricultural fields, reminding me of the agricultural fields at Hokkaido University. After our stroll, we went back and changed into running clothes. It was a tough run for me in the heat of the day, and with Laurel seemingly trying to push the pace as I stubbornly tried to hold us steady. Afterwards we came back and showered. Unlike in my frozen room in Sapporo, showers in Chiang Mai are refreshing to emerge from, not traumatizing. I always looked forward to them. Feeling clean and happy, we went to dinner at another vegetarian restaurant. As usual, I had trouble deciding between all the delicious sounding meals. I finally selected a cashew and tofu dish, with a fried egg. It was wonderful. After dinner, Laurel took us to what is apparently a very popular ice cream shop. Approaching it, it was clear why. The atmosphere is charming. There are christmas lights draped from the trees and walls, and hanging from the branches above a quirky, large sculpture were colorful lanterns. The ice cream flavors all looked wonderful. I had trouble, once again. I decided on three scoops -- Adzuki/green tea, Rose apple, and Cherry Milk. They were each scrumptious. It was also enjoyable to see many Thai people at the shop, as well. As we were leaving, we could feel a change in the air. Even while walking to the shop, the wind was odd, and now it had picked up in errant gusts. The sky was dark with night, but there must have been clouds above as well. It seemed that some weather was upon us. Sure enough, after walking only a short ways and feeling this change encircle us, small droplets fell. I asked if Laurel could feel them, and gradually she could as well. There was a swell in the air, and I knew suddenly that there would be a downpour. Within moments, there was. Everyone in the streets ducked for cover beneath overhangs and shops. I felt sorry for the motorbikers, drenched before us. I feared that many would crash, because they drove on, even though the heavy rain was likely blinding. I felt fortunate that Thai shop keepers, unlike Japanese shops, don't kick you out from their overhangs when it is raining. It is technically the dry season in Chiang Mai, and according to Laurel there had not been rain for around a month. But I am very good at summoning rain. Extremely good at it, in fact. I told Laurel that surely it followed me from Sapporo to Osaka, where it had been turned from snow to rain. Then, after a few days journey across the ocean, it had caught up to me in Chiang Mai. Obviously, that is arrogant to presume that I could be the cause of the rain. But I must say, it has followed me doggedly throughout Japan. Now, I had caused it to downpour in the dry season. It subsided slightly, and we tried to make it a little further. Suddenly, I could feel the air swell again and within seconds it was downpouring again. We ducked for cover once more. This time, the shopkeepers, who were all still around working, even brought us a bench to sit on while we waited! How kind! Like I said, I have literally been shooed out of overhangs in Japan (at least in Tokyo) during freezing rain while stopping only for a few moments to check the address! I was so appreciative of this kindness. The shopkeepers did not mind at all that we sought refuge, and accommodated us happily. Despite the general attitudes towards "farang," Laurel told me that Thai people are otherwise extremely kind, especially in situations like rain, or if you look lost and need a ride. At the same time, they also become nervous amidst displays of dramatic emotion, such as tears or anger. There is a saying in Thai called "sabai sabai." I'm not sure exactly how to translate it (I can't remember), but it's a little bit like "it is what it is" or more casually, "it's all cool." Finally, the rain abated. We thanked the shop keepers and bowed, giving them a "wai" (holding your palms together in front of your face and bowing). The streets were wet and puddly, and our feet got wet as well. We felt damp, and both bemoaned our dislike of unexpected rain and wetness. When we reached the food street outside of Laurel's apartment, I had us stop to buy Roti. Laurel had said I ought to try it before the end. It is actually a more middle-eastern or muslim inspired fried snack. It is a square of thin, crispy fried dough with fruit or other fillings layered inside. I chose banana honey (although there were many tantalizing options like sweet corn, chocolate banana, strawberry, etc). It was so wonderful. It made up for the rain, and we ate them happily and quickly as we walked back towards Laurel's apartment. As a last stop, we stopped and bought some band-aids, just in case we got blisters on our trek planned for the next two days.

My goodness, am I behind. I am going to skip ahead in the next post to my most recent trip--to THAILAND! It was wonderful! However, I will gradually fill in the events of January and February where I left off, just after New Year's. Until I do so completely, I will list a few of the major events. After New Year's, I had a few more days of winter break. On New Year's Day, I visited a group of Japanese friends who had prepared traditional new year's foods. These were scrumptious! They included sweet potatoes and chestnuts, many sweet beans, lots of fish and meat dishes that I could not eat as a vegetarian but looked quite good, and all sorts of other things. Kotaro and Eguchi, to Japanese friends, had spent at least twenty hours preparing it all together.
After New Years, I had a few more days of winter break which I enjoyed leisurely. On one of these days, I attempted to run all the way to the ocean coast. I failed, not because I became tired (surprisingly) but because I froze. I made it about half way before the cold temperatures really started to sting, so I hoped on the subway line I had been following and made my way back into Sapporo. But I had made it quite a long ways, run for about an hour and a half, and given myself a boost of confidence that I could run the distance. After the warm temperatures in Tokyo, I began to long for a trip to someplace warm! I regret not traveling during this time! But it did give me a last chance to polish up my final graduate school applications. I attended Mao-san's PHD defense, which she passed brilliantly and to the joy of my advisor, Professor Koike. The break ended, and it was back to early morning Japanese classes. January seemed to whiz by in this time. I may be forgetting some events, so I will have to add on to this as I remember. Of course, Becca also returned to Sapporo after her surgery. I was very impressed by her fast progress! February sped along as well, particularly occupied by track practices and then on the 12th and 15th, my Japanese final exams. I also reattempted my run to the ocean, and made it all the way there, though I arrived sweaty, covered in snow, and freezing just as the sun began to set. I felt triumphant and proud, though chilled to the bone because I got lost and ended up running part way up a mountain (which added unexpected time to my run as I tried to re-route myself). Furthermore, I finished my illustrations! I was so happy. You can see a peek of them here on my website. I have felt so bad to have taken so long on them, but in the end I am very pleased with how they have turned out and even happier to know that the authors are enjoying them. They are two of the most supportive and patient people I have had the privilege to work with! Please look out for more on the book as we put it together.

On the 15th, I received some of the most joyous and unexpected news I could imagine. I had marked on my calendar that I needed to be certain to have submitted my Yale financial aid application by the 15th. I had finished this a few days prior, and so there was no worry. On the evening of the 15th, while sitting in bed idly checking my email before I planned to settle down for the night, I received a message from Yale that there had been an update to my application, and that I should follow the link to view the update. I assumed this was simply updating to say that financial aid submissions were closed, and that mine had been submitted. To my immense shock and surprise, upon clicking my application, I started reading the message and blinked when I read "Congratulations! You have been admitted into Yale Forestry and Envi...ALJ:KN:KJCEH:EHGSY!" (That is a synopsis of what occurred. Yale did not have any such typos!) I re-read it again and again, wondering if I had fallen asleep at some point, and was dreaming or that I had read it incorrectly. I was astounded by the unexpected good news. I could hardly sleep at all that night.
The next day (the weekend of the 16th and 17th), I went on a trip with Becca, Kotaro, and Zenta to see the sea ice on the northeast coast of Hokkaido -- at the sea of Ohotsk. We met early Saturday morning at Sapporo station and took a loooong tour bus ride, then spent the night at a ryoukan, saw the ice from a boat the next day, and returned by Sunday night. Becca greeted me that morning with a huge hug, and everyone gave me congratulations. On the bus ride on Saturday morning, I shared the good news via email and facebook with others. I nearly started to cry on the bus, because I felt so shocked and for lack of better word...blessed. I never ever imagined such amazing things would happen to me. I could not believe the situation I was in at that moment. I was receiving such kind and warm congratulations and the support of so many. I was on a bus in Japan, driving through beautiful mountains. And I had accomplished a dream of mine, which was to be accepted into Yale's program. I will write more in depth about this whole experience, certainly. Needless to say, I am humbled and immensely grateful. The moral of the story, is to always keep working, do your best, and absolutely do not give up.
Very early in the morning on Monday, I was off for my adventure to Thailand, already with a smile and so many good things to be thankful for.

P.S. I have a ridiculous amount of pictures to share. I will add them soon! Thank you everyone for all your patience. I appreciate it so much that so many people read and are interested in what I am up to!

Thursday (12/24)-- On Thursday morning, we awoke from our wooden boxes and repacked our bags. When I made reservations for the trip I had made reservations at another nearby hostel with a private room for the remaining days, anticipating that we might not want to spend the whole trip in boxes. We turned in our box keys, and the very friendly hostel staff bid us farewell. Our next hostel was across the Sumida river, but still in Asakusa. In fact, it was located right behind Sensou-ji and a small, old amusement park. It was fairly early in the morning, and the streets were calm. The air was a bit chillier than the days before, though still nothing compared to Sapporo. I had written down the address of the hostel and entered it in my phone. However, after directing us to a small street in front of a tiny apartment, we were doubtful. The pinpoint on my map said we were standing exactly where we ought to be, but we were convinced otherwise. Nonetheless, we stepped up to the small apartment and rang the doorbell, because it had a small sign that matched the name of the hostel (Sakura Hostel Asakusa). No one answered. We wandered around a bit more in hopes of finding a larger sign or building. The website for the hostel had said specifically that it was next to the old amusement park, so I was certain we were in the right general area. I began to get nervous about frustrating Kait. I was sure I would find the location eventually, but having never been there I knew that it may take some searching. I tried calling the hostel's phone number next, and a very helpful man answered the phone and put up with more constant requests that he repeat the information. He told us that the hostel was just off of a small tourist market. We headed towards where I guessed it may be, looking lost with our bags in the sleepy streets. An old lady toddling ahead of us stole glances at us hesitantly, seeming to guess that we were confused. Hesitant myself, I went up to her to ask if she recognized the address. I handed her my phone so she could look, but I could see from her expression that she had no idea. As is the Japanese way (from all that I have seen), she toddled off with my phone to find another old lady out cleaning the sidewalk. Kait nudged me that I should not let her leave with my phone, but I wasn't concerned. She consulted with the other lady, and they pointed down a street just next to us. We had been about 50m away from our destination. Turning to look down the street, there was a large sign for Sakura Asakusa Hostel, and a much larger and hotel-like building. Relieved that the building actually existed and actually resembled a hotel and not a run-down apartment, we went in. The lobby area of this hostel was larger, more open, more airy feeling, and had large windows (I love windows) looking out onto the calm sidewalk in front. There were more tables, a large TV and couch, and a more professional/hotel feel than the self-described backpackers hostel we had stayed in the nights before. It really made me feel comfortable and encouraged to see a family sitting down at a table eating breakfast. We were there quite early, probably around 9:30AM, and we could not check into our room until the evening. But the receptionist told us that even though we couldn't check in yet, all the hostel's services and spaces were open for us to use until then, and that we could of course store our luggage. We brought our bags downstairs to a storage room, then went back to the lobby and sat on the couch eating the muffins that we had bought the day before. An excellent breakfast. From there, since Sensou-ji was literally in the backyard, we strolled through the little shrines leading up to the main temple. There were many centuries old stone shrines and buildings. I think that Kait was very interested in the shrines, and I was glad when she took many pictures and the time to read the little plaques. It was perhaps around 10:30 by this time, and crowds were slowly growing. While Kait took pictures, I was attracted to the line of little food stands. I do love food, and especially market snacks. There was one stand in particular selling mizuame. I have heard of this treat, and seen pictures, but never had a chance to try it or found it elsewhere. I've always thought it looks delicious. "Mizu" means water, and "ame" means candy. Mizuame is a clear syrupy candy eaten with a stick. Sometimes it covers fruit. I walked up to the stand; there were shiny mizuame-coated strawberries, oranges, and umeboshi. The old man in the stall was dipping fruit from a cooler into the mizuame and placing them in a line on a block of ice. He did not seem especially interested in selling anything to me, seeing as he either did not hear or ignored me the first few times I timidly said hello. I asked him what his suggestion for flavor was and he rather stiffly handed me a fresh mizuame covered umeboshi. I should have just picked the strawberry, since I love strawberries, but I did not want to offend him so I took the umeboshi. I have had umeboshi before, and they can be a bit sour. I took a bite, and it was crisp, cold, sour, and the mizuame coating it was sweet. It was quite delicious, despite being a bit sour. It sure got my hands sticky but it was definitely worth it. After that treat, we went into Sensou-ji itself. We threw coins and prayed at the offering box. Then we received our fortunes after shaking a box full of sticks until one stick fell out with a specific number, then locating the corresponding numbered drawer from which we removed our paper fortune answering our question. Mine, regrettably, was auspicious. But Kait reminded me that the fortune instructions reminded the recipient to be humble and not spiteful in the answer they received. The sky that day was brilliantly blue, and the sunshine was incredible as we walked through the last gate, exiting Sensou-ji and re-entering the souvenir market at Kaminarimon. There was a little fried mochi shop here, and I made sure we tried these as well. I tried sweet potato, and Kait tried Sakura (with a real Sakura leaf inside as well). Kait's really did taste like flowers. Mine was delicious too, but not as flowery. Our next stop was Meiji-jingu, since during our last attempt to visit the shrine it had closed. After taking the Ginza line the day before, we now knew a more direct route by subway to travel. Also, the Ginza line is a JR line compared to the Keisei (?) trains we had been taking previously, which don't really tell you where they are headed while en route. JR trains have announcements and signs more visibly displayed. We arrived successfully at the Harajuku station outside of Meiji Jingu and headed in through the large torii (gate) and pebbled, wide road into the grounds of the shrine. This was my first time seeing a shrine in good weather (i.e., without rain). So it was really wonderful! And wonderful also to revisit Meiji-jingu, which I had seen 3 months prior during my first time alone in a foreign country. While at the shrine, Kait asked me about some of the significance of the priests, priestesses, and practices at the shrine. Unfortunately, I know very little except the handful of random knowledge and customs that I have collected. I did my best to explain what I knew, but made a note for myself to become more knowledgeable. While there, Kait purchased an O-mamori (she had also bought one at Sensou-ji) to give to family. I bought a Kodama. These are believed to be spirits of certain objects, like rocks or trees. Such objects that might house Kodama are marked with a rope, called a Shimenawa and should not be cut down unless they have served their full purpose. The Kodama sold at Meiji-jingu are made of trees from the grounds which were inhabited by such spirits, but have now served their purpose and were made into these wooden charms. I find it comforting to have such a charm with me, closely connected to a place that I find so peaceful and memorable in my life. By that point it was about lunch time. We had decided that in order to reach Mt. Takao in order to view Mt. Fuji for the sunset, we would leave ourselves quite a bit of time just in case I inevitably got us lost. So we planned to depart Harajuku station based on the directions I had looked up for a train ride far out of Tokyo, by about 1:30PM at the latest. We wanted to find someplace close for lunch, but I also wanted to make sure Kait could try something that she would not eat just anywhere. The streets were very busy, and all the restaurants were equally crowded. We were not quite sure what exactly to choose. Then I spied a tiny omuraisu restaurant. I like omuraisu in particular because it is sometimes possible to find a plain version without meat. It is also a rather unique invention of an omelet stuffed with rice. Kait agreed, and so we got into a line headed down a narrow staircase, ordered while in line, and waited our turn to go downstairs into the incredibly small dining area. The tables, as is quite normally, were packed closely together. We took our seats, and Kait pointed out later that many people gave us stairs. Perhaps because we were foreigners who had ventured into a smaller restaurant. I generally do not notice stares any more unless they are especially obvious, since I am accustomed to it and often do not care any ways. We ate up, and I think that Kait enjoyed it. The serving sizes of omuraisu are always very large, so our stomachs were full for our journey. We returned to the station and after a bit of double checking boarded a train. We watched the cityscape morph around us, becoming smaller neighborhoods and suburbs. We had one train switch at a tiny station at the end of our line to reach the small town of Takaosan, having to ask a security guard directions. Thank goodness for those security guards! Then, to my great joy, we made it to takaosan station! I was really proud of my accomplisment. We hadn't even gotten lost! At the station I tried to convince Kait to try out the "squatting" toilet, telling her she ought to have that cultural experience, but to no such luck. In her defense, she is very tall and feared falling in. I too have this fear, but I did not want to miss out! And I needed to use the bathroom. We were not really sure where to go from the station, because that was as far as I had been able to route directions. I knew that we needed to find the chair lift to bring us part way up the mountain, though. As we wandered out of the station, we were met by a large billboard size map which fortunately gave us a sense of direction. I convinced Kait to let us take the open chairlift up and not the shuttle. She was a bit hesitant, but I think she appreciated it afterwards. We walked through the main street, following after other folks in hiking gear (Japanese people general overdress for even small hikes) and the jingle of bear-bells. Appearing just as unknowledgeable as we were, we managed to buy lift tickets and get in line to board. It was a ski lift just like those used at slopes. The interesting (and confusing) part of the process of boarding was that instead of a regular entrance to a lift, where you generally walk up to a line and the chair scoops you up, this lift had a moving tread that you walked onto. The lift runner told us to flip our backpacks to the front, then said ready, GO! Suddenly we were walking on the tread (me not entirely sure if we were supposed to WALK or STAND STILL). Then the chair scooped us up and we were away! Kait found the chaotic boarding to be hilarious. The steady climb upwards was breathtaking. Behind us we watching the gradual appearance of the Tokyo cityscape in the distance, and around us we were surrounded by tall, slender pines inching up the slope. Our disembarkment went smoothly enough (and frankly we scurried away as fast as we could so as not to cause chaos or an accident). There was an excellent view of Tokyo from the top. Then we began to follow others winding gradually up the path, in hopes of reaching the peak.

If you have gone hiking in the United States, in general when you think of hiking paths you imagine somewhat rugged terrain. This trail was wide, and we even saw a car or two recklessly trying to drive through the groups of people hiking up. The paths were lined in many places with beautiful lanterns, statues, stones, and shrines. It felt vaguely like a pilgrimage, to reach the top! At wider parts of the path there were many small food or souvenir vendors. Near to the shrines, there were charms and gifts for sale. Like so many parks and forests in Japan, there is an emphasis on comfort and ease for visitors. In fact, this is emphasized by and large over actual ecological protection. The paths and facilities all throughout the mountain served clear human priorities. Still, it was beautiful. There was even a snow monkey zoo part way up. At first we were interested in visiting, but then we learned it cost extra to enter. I could see part way inside as the path snaked ever onwards. I do not have much trust of zoos in Japan (or in the U.S., frankly). There were a few places where the paths diverged, and we did our best to follow those ahead of us. Upon reaching another shrine, this time quite a large one with a number of buildings, we must have taken a wrong turn. Instead of going up a small set of stairs, we continued straight and I do believe we ended up in the private quarters of the groundskeepers and monks--that or we were in the private area of an inn--because suddenly we were quite alone and I could tell we we probably not meant to be there. I had us turn back towards the shrine buildings, and I asked a family which way to the peak. Indeed, we had needed to keep climbing. I tried to keep us going at a steady pace because I wanted to make sure we were at the top by sunset. I think that my workouts with the track team had been paying off, because it felt no trouble at all to walk up the trail nor had the long walks from the previous days troubled me. I was very grateful for this! Periodically we stopped at maps, and each time the "you are here" dot was slightly higher. At last, we reached an open area filled with people and photographers. We knew we had arrived at the top. We tried to stake out a spot amongst the crowds. However, we could not seem to find Mt. Fuji. Kait asked me somewhat embarrassedly where she should be looking. Equally embarrassed not to be able to locate such an iconic shape along the horizon, I responded that I was not certain. Finally, after staring at a line of mountains ahead of us but not spying the shape of Mt. Fuji, I bashfully asked a Japanese lady with a camera if you are actually able to view Mt. Fuji from that location. She said that normally you can see it extremely well but because it was cloudy, it was not visible! All day it had been supremely sunny, but towards the end a few wandering clouds had shown up and set up camp right on top of Mt. Fuji and its neighbors. So the lovely, iconic caldera of Mt. Fuji was shrouded completely behind these fluffy, stubborn clouds (that I should mention hovered only to the west, where the sunset would fall). It was unfortunate, but we continued to squint valiantly in hopes of catching a glimpse. We consulted back and forth, saying oh, perhaps I see it, perhaps not, hmm, perhaps that is just a cloud. A whole mob of photographers remained, waiting with the same hope that the clouds may part. Alas, they never did. We could just see the bright, orange globe of the sun, slightly hazy through the clouds. There were some spectacular "crepuscular rays" that formed as the sunlight broke across the mountains. And to be certain, the view and the opportunity were nonetheless spectacular. It was only a shame that, since the Diamond Fuji only occurs during the week of Christmas, that we would not have another chance to view it. Or even to see Fuji itself from such a scenic vantage point. There was a sudden round of clicking cameras. Then, as the sun dropped at last behind the mountains, we could hear a communal sigh from the crowd, and they all at once began to pack up. There was still light, and so we kept watching for a while longer. A sunset is still a sunset, after all!

As we too bid farewell to the horizon, the crowds began to descend the mountain like a trail of many ants. There were announcements informing everyone that they should head down before it became dark for safety. Both Kait and I were starting to feel chilly now that the temperatures were going down. Just that start of a chill that seems to creep up slowly, like a cold lining to a jacket. Both Kait and I are faster walkers than the average Japanese hiker, and it was frustrating to try to weave through groups of people, in particular people who insisted on walking four or so abreast. Nonetheless, we made our progress back down. We were nervous that, because we had bought an up-and-back ticket for the chairlift (but the chairlift stops at 4PM), that we would not be able to use the same ticket for the tram back down the mountain. We got into the long line, clutching our tickets, and trying to steal glances at the tickets that other people were holding. We came closer and closer to the worker collecting tickets, then handed ours to them. Fortunately, they didn't look twice and let us through. I had made sure to ask the ticket office when we first bought the tickets if it would be okay to use them for the tram, and she had said it would be no problem--but I had not completely trusted my understanding of her explanation. We got into the tram, packed like a can of sardines full of people, and one tiny dog. It felt as though we were descending into a mine. Outside, it had grown dark. Then we were at the bottom, walked back through the darkling, tiny, streets of the small town of Takaosan, and then we were back at the station. We decided to try the line that went directly from the station back to Tokyo, not really wanting to switch. Unfortunately, it was a local train and so it made many stops, making progress back towards Tokyo slow. Following everyone else's cue, about halfway we switched to a faster, though busier, train. On the ride back, if I remember correctly, we discussed ideas for dinner. We decided to take a look around the Shibuya station to see what we could find for Indian food. I had looked up a restaurant during the ride, and so we headed that way. However, on the way, we spied a small place across the street called "Curry and Naan." We crossed over and decided to check it out, and if it looked to be no good, we would head in search of the other place. We went inside and the place seemed just fine. Even better, it wasn't busy. We took a seat and looked through the menu. For less than 1000 yen (about 12 bucks) there were huge curry sets. The one I ordered came with two types of curry, rice, a fried egg (why, I do not know, except that Japanese people love semi-cooked eggs), and UNLIMITED naan. I thought that I had misheard, but it was true! I had to pinch myself because I thought surely I was dream. That was a dream come true! I love naan so much, but you usually do not receive more than one serving with your meal. The waiter had sure made a mistake in informing me of the unlimited naan, because I was not going to let such an opportunity go to waste. Our food came and it was delicious. I savored every bite. And I proceeded to consume four whole servings of naan. To explain once more, naan in Japan is not cut up like at many Indian restaurants in the U.S. It is served as a gigantic, long sheet. So for one person--one GIRL, since no one in Japan expects girls to be able to eat much--to consume four pieces is unfathomable. I could tell that the waiter thought I was quite odd. In particular, he gave me a strange look after I asked for dessert, and since they were out of the dessert I asked for another piece of naan instead. In retrospect, I should have eaten even MORE. I still had room. I am hoping to find another restaurant like it, in particular if my sister is able to come visit me. Between the two of us, I do not doubt we will reach the double digits for slices of naan. I realized as we were eating that this was our Christmas Eve feast. I couldn't have asked for a better one. Afterwards, we headed back to the hostel, showered, and went to bed.

Friday (12/25)--Friday would be our last full day in Tokyo. I had heard of a small suburb of Tokyo known to be an artsy, "young", and unique scene called "Shimokitazawa." It is apparently one of a growing few places left in Tokyo that holds onto the "older" Tokyo feel of tiny local shops, and very few large chains (though I spied a few). There are many "vintage" or second hand clothing stores. Though it is very different in appearance from Uptown in Minneapolis, I would say it is a very similar feel. We woke up around 8:30 or so, with a plan to find a bakery or breakfast in Shimokitazawa. I managed to navigate us there, but I forewarned Kait that once we reached Shimokitazawa itself we would have to scope it out ourselves. I did not know exactly where and what to do there, only that it was an interesting place to go. So when we arrived at the Shimokitazawa station, it was my intention to let us wander. It was a bit after 10AM when we arrived there, and unfortunately businesses in Japan tend to open late. Almost everything was still closed or in the process of opening. So we wandered around, made some loops, and observed the feeling of the area. The streets were indeed small. But as ever, Japanese people seem to be persistent about driving cars in areas where (in my opinion) cars ought not to be driven. There was barely room for cars to fit through, and they had to swim through people and walkers, and generally made themselves a nuisance. As we strolled around we tried to find a place where we would each brunch. Most places were not opening until 11AM, but we got a good idea of our options, and picked one that looked especially delicious. Along with meals, this place served baked goods, and PANCAKES. Now, the Japanese version of pancakes and idea of how they should be eaten is quite different from in the U.S. In general, pancakes in Japan are considered a type of dessert. To me, they are breakfast. If you imagine a place like IHOP, which has all sorts of indulgent and sweet-tooth versions of pancakes, that comes close to the Japanese preparation of this favorite meal of mine. This shop had displays and menus outside and as the 11 o'clock hour approached, we deliberated about what we would order. The menu, to give you an idea of Japanese pancakes, includes things like strawberry chocolate berry, etc. Indeed, pancakes were the dessert option that came with regular meal sets like curry! But I was just interested in the pancakes. I finally, after much thought, decided upon caramel banana pancakes (that came with ice cream on top!). We were the first ones in the shop that day. The feeling of the restaurant was open, with many wooden tables and floor. We picked an extremely sunny spot at the window, looking out into the streets. When our food arrived, it looked spectacular. It tasted amazing. I had missed pancakes so much while being here in Japan. There was one time many months prior when Becca had cooked them before our middle-of-the-night trip to Asahikawa, but besides then I had not eaten pancakes in 3 months. When I was at St. Olaf, in the fantastical, delicious cafeteria I would frequently eat buckwheat pancakes a few times week (usually with syrup and peanut butter. On Mondays the caf even makes chocolate chip pancakes! Boy do I miss the caf!) For Kait, pancakes were probably not as exciting. But I did mention to her that it is an experience worth having, to try Japanese pancakes with all their tantalizing fixings. On the way out, I also bought a spectacular invention, freshly baked while we were eating. This was an oreo, creamcheese frosting muffin. I packed it in my bag for safekeeping. We strolled through a few more stores, and into an odd parking "garage", with a conglomeration of "garage-sale" like tents separated by curtains. Most of these were "vintage" clothing vendors and many were quite odd, or old looking, but still expensive. I would have liked to peek into a few more shops. But we decided to make our way back towards Tokyo. I was not sure what we should do next. In the evening, it was our goal to see the illuminated "Rainbow Bridge" that connects the island of Odaiba to Tokyo. Odaiba used to be a military base, but now it is an amusement park, attractions, and shopping area. However, it was still about 1PM and we had plenty of time to spare before sunset. I wanted us to spend it well. Knowing that Kait likes flowers, I thought maybe we could find a traditional garden. We had already exhausted my knowledge of places to see in Tokyo, so I did my best to choose from a list of gardens. As fate would have it that day, I chose extremely well. At first I had chosen a garden nearer to the Imperial Palace, but at the last minute figured it would be best if we worked our way in the direction of Odaiba. A garden called Hamarikyu is just across the water from Odaiba, and looked interesting. We took the subway towards it. Among many mishaps throughout the trip, somehow we ended up in the fancy-pants headquarters of Softbank, in a very corporate and polished tall building. We had simply gone up an elevator after exiting the subway, and there we were amidst classily clad men and women in suits. We made a beeline for the nearest exit. Then we haphazardly made our way towards Hamarikyu, following my phone.  When we reached the entrance to the garden itself, it was very calm and sparsely populated. I was concerned at first that it may be closed, but it was indeed open. I was a little disappointed to learn that you have to pay to enter, but it was not expensive at least. We took a map and wandered on in. Japanese gardens, as you likely know, are traditionally very different from western aesthetics. They are more sparse, and each stone and path is particularly placed and carefully manicured. Hamarikyu, as it turns out, has a long history. It was once the hunting grounds and falconry grounds of the shogunate. It is especially famous for its contrast to the tall skyscrapers around it. The sun that day was glorious, and we could not have asked for better weather. In fact, except for our cold and rainy first morning, we were incredibly fortunate with weather. I walked with my coat completely unzipped, entranced by the blessedly warm weather compared to Sapporo. Kait still thought it was cold! I couldn't believe it! But to each their own. One thing I really appreciated about Kait's company is that she is one of few people I have traveled with who takes the time to read information signs. I always try to, but usually my companions are not interested. So this was refreshing. We made our way towards the pond and teahouse that overlooked it. This was a replica of the teahouse that the shogun had used. As we approached, I noticed that you could even go inside and be served green tea and wagashi (traditional seasonal Japanese sweets that go with tea). I thought Kait might not be interested but was very happy when she was! We went in, seeming 100% the awkward confused foreigners that we were, and fumbled our way through the traditional way of drinking tea. There was a long paper of instructions, telling us to turn our cups this way, pick things up with that hand, split the wagashi with the wooden stick into so many pieces, etc. The ladies working at the teahouse seemed so accustomed to foreigners, they barely paid us any mind though I am sure we did many things wrong. It was a surreal experience to sit, eating wagashi in the form of a beautiful seasonal flower, drinking foamy green tea, sitting on tatami mats and overlooking the shogunate's onetime pond. The garden landscape lay before us, encircled by the Tokyo cityscape on the horizon and flickering in the reflection of the water. I will never, ever forget that experience. Both of us agreed that it was incredible, and it reaffirmed to me what an amazing opportunity it is to be here in Japan and how grateful I am. At any moment, I felt I could awake from a dream. I am not a big fan of tea, but I drank it happily after savoring each tiny piece of my beautiful blossom shaped wagashi. We strolled a bit more through the gardens, visited the 300 year old tree planted by the shogun, and learned that the ferry we had hoped to take out to Odaiba also departed from Hamarikyu itself! So gradually we made our way through the lovely paths towards the ferry. The ferry was departing very soon, so we bought our tickets and hopped aboard. It brought us to another dock from which another boat would take us out to Odaiba. The ferry ride towards Odaiba was incredible as well. I had been told about it by a classmate at Hokudai, and had not been certain if we would have time to manage it. The day and route had worked out splendidly. In the magnificently blue sky we watched Hamarikyu shrink behind us, melding into the Tokyo skyline. The sun still clinging to the sky, the moon had already risen. It was a beautiful scene.

In Odaiba, we saw a large replica of the statue of liberty. An odd site, perched on the shore of the island and standing out against the Tokyo skyline behind it. There is also a life-size gundam outside of the shopping centers. Because Christmas in Japan is mostly a day for couples, there were many lovers out together. In the distance at sunset I also caught a glimpse of fuji. One of my last goals for Kait as to visit a quirky chain store called Village Vanguard. I had searched to see if there was one in Odaiba, and sure enough there was. It is filled with all sorts of very Japanese, and very strange trinkets. Afterwards, we took the train back towards sky tree. We had planned to have our last dinner be a desserts buffet in sky tree. Upon arriving there, we found it was way too expensive. It was about $40 per person. I searched and searched for another option. Many seemed to be far out of the way. Then, by luck, it turned out that there may be one in Sumida, which is the same neighbored as our hostel had been in the first nights. Kait agreed to give it a shot. It is called Sweets Paradise. It was a somewhat long walk, and we were not certain if it truly existed. Upon arrival, we saw only a small tent outside the shopping center labeled Sweets Paradise and we feared that this is all there was. Stepping inside, luckily, we found that the restaurant itself was on the higher levels. Thank goodness! Our hearts could not take so many ups and downs when it comes to desserts! We went upstairs, navigated the crowded food floor, bought a "ticket" to enter, then sat down and prepared ourselves! The buffet had about the same atmosphere as an Old Country Buffet. Not nearly so fancy and lovely as the one in Sky Tree. But there were a heck of a lot of cakes! And some dinner foods too. I ate a full plate of vegetables first, for some semblance of nutrition. Kait cautiously tried  few Japanese dishes, but shes did not particularly like them. Then it was on to the cakes and desserts! I ate about five plates in total. Kait was not quite so ambitious, though she did her best. My favorites are always dango, or little mochi balls. These are made of pounded rice. I do not know if Kait enjoys them as much as I , but I could eat a million! It was our Chirstmas feast. There was a very rowdy boys sports team there as well, and our neighbors in the seats beside us were an obnoxiously touchy-feely young couple. Still, it was a lot of fun. We enjoyed speed walking together back to hostel. Both Kait and I are fast walkers. And we needed a bit of exercise after that meal, too!

Saturday (12/26)-- On Saturday morning, we packed our bags, strolled one last time through Kaminarimon, and then headed to Narita. Kait was very stressed about flying standby, and so we had agreed to only very quickly see the temple at Narita. I think it is a very beautiful place, and because it is only about 15 minutes from the airport, I figured it would be a good last sight for Kait. To save time, we just kept our luggage on us. This was very heavy to tote around, and my shoulder started to hurt by the end because I have a duffle bag, not a backpack like Kait. I think that she enjoyed the lovely grounds, but as it neared midday, she became increasingly stressed. As we headed out, she began to speed walk so quickly that I could scarcely keep up with my bag, and I even began to grow annoyed. We made it successfully back to the airport, and Kait was so nervous. She had two different flight possibilities, but for some reason that day it seemed that the flights were especially busy so she was unsure if she would make it on standby. I could only go as far a security with her. I did my best to help her check in, then I watched as she proceeded slowly through the line, and then she was on the other side of the gate and off. We had hugged and bid eachother farewell. All in all, it was such an incredible experience. I am so grateful to Kait for coming to visit me, and I sincerely hope she enjoyed her brief but hopefully eventful time in Tokyo. It definitely made my Christmas brighter. All that was left now was for me to fly back to the winterland of Sapporo. My flight would depart from the other terminal, so I made my way back. Flying AirAsia, a discount airline, after I checked in I was shuttled to a tiny waiting lobby. I ate some icecream as I waited for my flight. At last, we boarded. For the first part of the flight, I mostly read. However, for the very first time ever I began to feel airsick! Because flying into Hokkaido is always bumpy, I actually felt I might throw up. This was so uncomfortable, and I had cold sweat the whole time. It would have been so embarrassing to throw up! But I made it, we landed, and I started to feel better. I hope that never happens again!

Regrettably, although I was otherwise having a wonderful time and felt the trip was going well, it was that night in particular that something strange began to happen to me. It is a little embarrassing to tell, but it is a perfect example of the many odd and unpredictable things that frequently occur in my life. The nights before I had noticed that I was feeling rather itchy. The sort of itchiness as though I were wearing wool clothes. My scalp had felt itchy as well. I could not think of any explanation. After the first night, at the previous hostel, I had even started to consider that perhaps I had encountered beg bugs. But I made sure to check each hostel and each mattress stealthily to insure this was not the case. Of course, I could not be certain, but I saw no sign. Yet every night, especially since the first night, I became itchier and itchier. I noticed that my stomach had pink splotches on it that were spreading to my arms, sides, and back. I was perplexed. They did not look like bites, but I could think of no other explanation (ruling out molting!). Kait becomes cold extremely easily and so each night she put up the heat to very high levels. I am someone who has yet to turn on the heat in my own abode in the winterland of Sapporo, so the heat was a bit much for me. But I figured it is easier for me to be a little warm, or just sleep with a sheet, then to make Kait be cold. However, I noticed that the heat made the itchiness infinitely worse. I would wake up through the night, realizing that I was scratching my arms and torso. Each time I took a shower, I kept an eye on the red marks. By the last day, they were all over and had even spread onto part of my neck, and fortunately not visibly, but still itchy, on the sides of my face and ears. What I realized while researching on my phone in the airport is that all these symptoms matched up with something called "christmas tree rash." Ironic, given the timing, I know. It is more formally known as pitiriasus rosea. It is unknown what causes it, it is not contagious, and there is no cure except to let it run its course. It can last between 6 weeks and 6 months. And BOY was it itchy. One of the worst things for it turns out to be heat. So running the heater on high all those nights for Kait had made things doubly bad. It made my first week back in Sapporo pretty miserable. Furthermore, I was arriving back to Sapporo just at the start of everyone's winter break. The New Year is a time for family in Japan, and the combination of my horrible itchiness, plus missing my family made me descend into some of the worst homesickness I have yet experienced. To top it all off, I learned that the loan deferment form that my lender had told me they had received a few months past was missing a date on it, so I had to resubmit everything. It was that day that I broke down crying, and simply fell asleep. Gradually, I began to feel better. I went on some very long runs, and enjoyed the time to take these runs. However, I could not wait for the holiday season to be over with. It was a constant reminder of my home. I spent New Year's eve cooking with my lab mate, Diao, and some international students. We made a delicious dinner, and I made about 5 times too much vegetable spaghetti for us all. Together, we watched a movie after dinner and then I ran home afterwards.