Tokyo (April 1)> Tokyo Disneyland
Kyoto (April 2-April 4) > Day one: Kiyomizudera, Ginkakuji. Day 2: Fushimi Inari Shrine, Kinkakuji, Day 3: Maddie's birthday, walk along Kamogawa river, Arashiyama bamboo grove, cake buffet for dinner to celebrate.
Nara (April 5) > Toudaiji, Nara deer park, "primordial forest", Wakakusa foothills.

Following the mid-year conference, I returned to Sapporo to attend a somewhat unexpected three day conference organized in part by my professor at Hokkaido University. My advisor had previously asked for my help in editing the English in a number of pamphlets he had written about other agriculture programs around the world, and I assumed he was preparing this for future international programs at Hokudai. He had also asked for my help guiding an extremely prominent visiting professor--one of the most prominent climate change and CO2 researchers in the world, Professor David Tissue--and invited me on a daytrip accompanying them to see Mt. Usu and Lake Shikotsu. I should have connected the dots and realized that there was a conference in the works. Therefore, I was very surprised to learn about the conference only the day before, after gleaning information from conversations during the day trip. Between myself and my lab mate and fellow international student who also attended the trip, we slowly puzzled together the schedule for the next days, realizing that Professor Koike was anticipating our attendance. The conference was officially the “International Forum on Collaborate Agriculture Education: As a Project for Promotion of Global Human Resource Development.”  Accompanying Professor Koike and the two visiting professors on the daytrip, and being invited to two dinners with them as well, was a true highlight. Although the conference itself was mostly a chance for university administrators and admissions to list of their statistics to each other, Professor Tissue had expected the conference to be more science and research oriented. Because of this, the long, dry administrative presentations were not very useful or appealing to him and he was happy to sneak out to discuss science and research one on one with my labmates and I to help pass the time. This was wonderful! I count myself very fortunate to have spent nearly three days with Professor Tissue and his wife, Professor Diamond, talking about climate change, forests, and Sapporo. Teaching in Australia, they were both fascinated by the snow at the same time I was weary of it. On their last night, I attended the farewell dinner at a very nice Japanese restaurant. The next morning, I offered to meet them a 5:45am to show them how to take the train to the airport, and then met a visiting administrator at 9am to do the same. Despite the early morning, it was pleasant to have a chance to help them and to help my advisor during the conference.

At the same time as all of these events, I received my financial aid award from Yale Forestry and Environmental School. Shortly after returning to Sapporo from the Fulbright Mid-year conference, I knew that I was scheduled to receive this information from the program, and I had been nervous about it. I had admitted my anxiousness to the other Fulbrighters and staff at the conference. On March 15th, right on time, I received the information. Regrettably, it was as I had feared. It was not sufficient for me to be able to justify attending, and covered only a small fraction of the costs. I knew this immediately upon reading the numbers, and I was crushed. Over the next few weeks, this daunting reality has hung heavy in my thoughts. If I am truthful, I was heartbroken. I had felt such joy and shock two months prior, having learned of my acceptance to a program I had only dreamed of. At that moment, I was brought to tears with happiness. So many people were proud and happy for me. I felt like I had wasted their warm words. Nonetheless, I have again found so much support from friends, fellow fulbrighters, and professors willing to offer me their advice and help. I am eternally grateful for this. I reached out for advice and suggestions and was very lucky to be met by abundant help from others. I learned that there are many people who believe in me and care greatly for me. I tried to avoid coming to the truth that I knew all along, however--I tried to avoid admitting the reality that the cost was too much. That the joyous news I had received of being accepted into the program was now an impossibility. I spent a number of days simply wandering the cold city, struggling back and forth with the decision that awaited me. It was a very confusing and depressing time for me. Although I have faced rejection from programs and applications before, this was entirely different. In those instances, despite my own confidence in myself, others made the decision to say "no." In this case, it fell to me to acknowledge that I must say "no" to myself. That was a painful, but growing reality for me as the weeks passed and the deadline crept closer.

All the while, I knew I needed to keep focused on my Japan Forest Society poster. I did my best to keep working, and I did find a sense of accomplishment in finally finishing the translation from English to Japanese of my research. With the mid-year conference and this surprise conference finished, I had one more to look ahead to. It was time to focus on my Japanese Forest Society poster presentation. After consulting with my professor, he reaffirmed that he would like me to try to present in Japanese. This was both exciting and daunting--on the one hand, my advisor’s adamant vote of confidence was extremely kind and encouraging. On the other hand, I did not want fall short of his expectations. Therefore, I set myself to the task of translating my previous undergraduate research paper--on the interaction of the non-native species of buckthorn and earthworms in Minnesota--into Japanese. Then I had to figure out the layout of Japanese academic posters, which do appear to have certain differences from those that I have seen in the United States. In fact, this was my first official poster presentation. I have only ever done power point presentations in the past, and only at my own university not at the scale of a conference. It took quite a long time to translate the technical vocabulary, and even longer to piece together strange phrases in scientific lingo. To my great surprise and fortune, after sending a version of my poster to my advisor to ask his opinions on the format, he very literally helped me to edit all of the contents for any errors. Knowing how very busy Japanese professors are, I was astounded. I must express my gratitude again to Professor Koike for his abundant support. Then came the mysterious step of actually printing the poster. I had wondered what to do--whether I could go to a print shop, or a facility on campus, and how to arrange this. I was assisted by one of my Chinese labmates, and had the proud experience of watching my gigantic 118x84cm poster emerge from an immense printer. With that taken care of, I had one less worry off my mind. Now came the task of insuring that I could actually read and remember the contents of my poster in Japanese. I made a handful of flashcards and carried them with me. If I had a spare moment, I flipped through them wherever I was, muttering such words as 有機物 (Organic matter) and外来種 (non-native species) everywhere I went.

My poster presentation itself was on March 27th, and I traveled with Chinese graduate students from my lab on a tiny plane to Morioka. The schedule of the Japanese Forest Society conference itself was a little bit confusing, with presentations and talks occurring in rooms all over the Iwate University campus and a thick, complicated conference handbook. The first evening, the other members of my lab and I all went out to try “reimen” noodles, a Morioka specialty. I was truly touched when they even changed to another restaurant in order for me to find a vegetarian option, despite my protests! The day of my presentation, I put up my poster early in the poster hall, attended my professors talk, and nervously made my last minute preparations and vocabulary reviews. The comforting aspect of a poster presentation is that it is held in a hall simultaneously with many other posters. Therefore, it feels less formal. During the hour and a half of “core” time, when I was expected to be in front of my poster and ready to explain, I initially had few stop by. The conference being mainly Japanese students and researchers, many people passed me by--perhaps assuming I could not speak Japanese. Gradually, I gained a few curious listeners. By the end, I had probably presented my poster to at least seven people. My advisor snuck by with his ever-present camera to proudly snap pictures during this time. At first, I felt that I stumbled through the explanation in Japanese. Gradually, however, I gained confidence and smoothness. By the end, I was not nervous at all. I was enjoying myself and realizing how much I like presenting and discussing. That evening, my professor even took me and my Chinese labmate to eat “wanko soba,” another Morioka specialty. With “wanko soba”, you are served an unlimited number of tiny bowls of soba noodles, one at a time, by a waitress carrying a tray of bowls. You quickly slurp up the noodles, then hold up your empty bowl for more. And more. And more. I narrowly beat my professor, eating 50 bowls. That is nothing, considering the record for a woman is apparently 550!  We all left cheerful, happy, and full. The next day, my professor rented a car in order to bring us to see the World Heritage Site of Hiraizumi! Then, that afternoon, we flew back to Sapporo.

The very next morning, I would be on an airplane yet again. On March 29th, immediately following the Japan Forest Society conference, I flew from Sapporo to Narita to meet my little sister who would be spending the next to weeks exploring Japan with me. The entire trip was undoubtedly the experience of a lifetime. I anxiously awaited my sister’s arrival at the gates in Narita. I was overjoyed to see her. We spent our first three days in Tokyo, with a side trip to Kamakura. I showed her the Imperial Palace and Shinjuku Gyoen amidst the splendor of the blooming sakura. I kept exclaiming in excitement and disbelief at the beautiful falling petals. I found it almost unbelievable to be strolling through such surreal surroundings. Surely, I said, such places exist only in paintings and film! Japan has an incredible beauty about it. As a lover of plants, I admire any culture that takes the time to appreciate the beauty of this earth. Our last day in Tokyo, we met up with Veronica and her mother at Tokyo Disneyland. It was a privilege to spend time with them, and although the lines were long, we had lots of fun. That evening, I had my first experience with Japan’s night buses on our trip to Kyoto. We spent three days exploring the plethora of temples and shrines in Kyoto--my favorites being Kiyomizudera and Fushimi Inari. On the second day, however, I twisted my ankle minutes into what I thought would be a relaxing run along the Kamogawa river. By the time we had reached Kinkaku-ji later that day, I was struggling to walk. My picture in front of Kinkaku-ji, therefore, is especially pained. Although frustrated, my sister and I could not help but laugh at the pictures and my silly limp throughout the otherwise lovely surroundings. Since we traveled almost entirely on foot in order to better see each city and to save money when we could, the possibility of not being able to walk made me extremely nervous. Luckily, my ankle gradually recovered over the days. We also spent a day in Nara, hiking through the “primordial forest” and up Wakakusa hill. My sister had to talk me out of attempting to squeeze through the pillar in Toudaiji. Primarily for children, there is a pillar with a small whole that, if passed through, is said to insure enlightenment in the next lifetime. After watching a small woman struggle her way through, I was convinced that I could too. My sister would have none of it, though later conceded that I could have maybe made it. So much for insured enlightenment! Throughout the trip, we primarily stayed in hostels. That evening, we took the train in to Osaka ands stayed in a rougher neighborhood. This was actually a rather important experience to me, because I have been interested in homelessness in Japan.

In the morning, we made our voyage to Mt. Koya. Unfortunately, the weather became rainy, windy, and chilly. We stayed the night in Yochi-in temple, and spent a great deal of our time in our room because of the harsh weather. For dinner, we were served delicious Shojin-ryouri (vegetarian food). This was such a treat and relief for my sister and I, both of whom are vegetarians. After dinner, I decided to put on the yukata. I do not often wear these, because I become easily self-conscious, but I wanted my sister to try it on for the experience. Literally moments after putting it on, there was a quiet knock at the sliding door. To my embarrassment, a monk peeked in and asked if I would not mind helping him with some guests. Confused and bashful wearing the yukata--and my sister holding back a fit of laughter at the situation--I followed after. There were two French guests downstairs ready to write calligraphy on a scroll, and the monk explained to me that he was having trouble telling them the meaning of the scroll and what they should do since he could only speak Japanese! He asked me to help translate, since he knew that I could speak some Japanese! I did my best! After returning to my room to be teased by my sister--who later admitted to being somewhat proud of me for the task--there was another quiet rap at the door. The monk had returned with a tray of tea and sweets for us as a thank you! As a thank you for his thank you, I painted a little sketch of the temple entrance and left it as a gift. Around 6:30am the next morning, we attended the Buddhist rituals of the temple, followed by another delicious vegetarian meal. An interesting aspect of staying in the temple, especially after the many other guests had arrived, was an interesting glimpse into the lack of privacy in such traditional lodgings. All the walls and doors of the room were made of paper lattice-work. And of course the baths were public. After packing our bags in the morning, still smelling pleasantly of incense, we donned our raincoats, thanked the monks, and ventured into the wind and rain. It had not settled down since the night before. We did our best to battle against the weather--shivering and wet, we watched the mist and rain surrounding the tall pines and the tall Daimon gates. We did our best to see all the temples we could, with periodic refuge in omiyage shops, where we dripped all over the floors. Determined not to let our trip to Koyasan go to waste, we forged ahead through the Oku-no-in cemetery. Already entranced by the strong scent of pine ubiquitous throughout Koyasan, I had been looking forward to meeting the towering, ancient sentinels throughout the cemetery forest. Despite the gray, the forest and graves were impressive. I hope to return in fairer weather where I can spend more time since  the rain did leave us hasty and chilled to the bone. To spend a day wandering that forest would be a dream! Such trees! That evening, we took another night bus from Kyoto to Hiroshima. Somehow, I had accidentally reserved fairly nice seats for the bus, with little domes that can be pulled down to shade your head. This made for a somewhat more pleasant ride--except for becoming car sick!

I found Hiroshima to be an absolutely charming city. Arriving at 7am from our bus ride, we slowly made our way to the Peace Park. The park itself is beautiful. We visited the museum as well, and although it was a heart wrenching experience, it was an important one. In the afternoon, fearing bad weather the next day and wanting to take advantage of the rare and glorious sunshine, we decided to see what we could of Miyajima in the afternoon. Itsukushima Shrine was beautiful. And I had completely forgotten about the tide, so I was surprised to see the floating torii without water. We came back the next day to climb up to the top of Mt. Misen and explore the beautiful forest. My sister was amused to catch me digging around in the soil, curious about the composition. Having stayed in so many cramped bunk beds at hostels up until that point--with the exception of the beautiful temple--, it was a long-awaited relief to have a hotel room for two nights in Hiroshima. The next morning, I experienced my very first ride on a shinkansen as we traveled from Hiroshima back to Osaka. That afternoon, we caught our flight to Naha, Okinawa. We arrived at sunset, to a dreary grey skyline. Both my sister and I felt uneasy in what felt like unfriendly surroundings. Our hostel was up the concrete stairs above a restaurant. In the morning, although Naha remained worn and torn in appearance, it was more friendly. We walked through the lively Kokusai-dori, then Tsuboya pottery district, and finally explored Shuri castle. Okinawa truly does have a different feel to it than the rest of Japan, and the influences of China are clear, as well as the unique Ryu Kyu history. The sun peeked out hesitantly that afternoon alone. The next day, we went snorkeling in the rain and not-quite-warm temperatures. My sister was at first terrified at the prospect of sharks. However, when the guides suddenly exclaimed “look! A whale!”, she forgot these worries. Far ahead of us, we could just see the fins and tails of two whales! Everyone ran to the front of the boat to watch them. For that sight alone, all the dreary weather was more than worth it. When we reached our snorkeling sight, the sapphire waters glimmered hesitantly. Above the water, the world was grey, but once we peered beneath the waves, there was a beautiful world awaiting us. Neither of us had ever snorkeled, and scarcely seen an ocean. We were awed by the fish and coral. Our cheerful guide (ironically, a man from Hokkaido!) helped us find three sea turtles! The next day, we took a tour bus full of elderly Japanese people towards the central part of the Okinawa main island--the highlight of which was the Churaumi Aquarium which houses enormous whale sharks, and our brief but beautiful experience of the beaches and rocks. We had an “Okinawan” style lunch, complete with bitter goya, and “sea grapes” (a type of seaweed with green little globes like grapes). The next day, we flew back to Narita. For our last hours together in Japan, we took what I thought would be a calm visit to the town of Narita. Little did I know that it was the day of the Taiko Matsuri! We were surprised by countless Taiko groups and a parade. Then, that afternoon, I bid farewell to my sister, sending her home with numerous souvenirs for my family. Our parting came all too quickly and felt sudden. I did not expect to cry, but could not help it. It felt almost as painful as leaving my family all those months ago. After having a constant companion for the past two weeks, to suddenly be so completely alone again--to make my way to my own flight alone, and to take the train alone--I continued to tear up. At the same time, I was so happy for the amazing experience that my sister and I shared. I count myself so lucky. I truly never imagined to have such an opportunity. Although there were rough patches and difficulties, I emerged from our long travels feeling wiser and more confident. After the Fulbright mid-year conference, I felt sad to have seen so little of Japan outside of Hokkaido. Now, I feel fortunate to have been able to travel to so many beautiful and historical places. I feel more complete, even if there is much more to see. I feel that I have come to know Japan more intimately. Now, I am back to Sapporo preparing for the start of classes. The break flew by, and I am excited to learn more. The grass and plants have timidly begun to green, and the snow is ever so slowly retreating. The city seems a far more cheerful place, and I am anxious to start working with my seedlings after their long sleep under the snow.

Although this past month has brought crushing disappointment as far as graduate school, it has also brought much to be thankful for. In the next months, I will have to begin planning my future anew. As far as I can tell, I will be doing my best to work and earn money over the next year and try my luck at re-applying to forest science programs for next year with the hope of better funding. Although painful, the experience has showed me just how much I do want to pursue graduate school. I was unsure when I first began my applications, but the experience with Yale has clarified that passion for me. I want to make positive change in this world, and I am determined to do so. However, as someone wishing to protect this earth, I must act sustainably in my own life. Part of that means that I must recognize when an action, such as spending so much money for a masters program or taking on such huge loans, is not sustainable.