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.

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.

Friday (12/21) -- Waking up before the sunrise in my chilly room, I made a quick bowl of oatmeal, drank a cup of hot cocoa, and suited up. I gave my little dorm room a last glance, took a deep breath, and I was headed out the door around 5:40AM to try to catch the 6:15AM train from Sapporo Station to the Shin-Chitose airport. Strapping my dufflebag to my shoulder and glancing at my watch, I was so nervous about making it in time I decided to call a taxi to save myself the stress. In retrospect, this probably took more time than had I just speed walked, but I was taking no chances. I jumped out of the taxi and hurried into Sapporo Station. I had never bought train tickets departing Sapporo city itself, and certainly never to the airport. When I first arrived in Hokkaido,  I was lucky to have two of my labmates/my supporter pick me up. I was nervous about figuring out the train platform and buying the correct ticket fare from the machine. But I located the machine, bought a 1200yen ($14) ticket, and it printed out successfully. I grabbed it and hurried in through the gates about 6:12AM. I was relieved to notice people with luggage, clearly headed for the same destination as I. Lines formed, and the train appeared. Unlike regular subway trains, which have simple benches such as those on the L in Chicago, this train had rows of separate seats. I was surprised, and mildly confused by the system of "reserved" cars (how do you reserve a seat besides buying a ticket, I wondered?) and by the fact that the backs of the seats actually swiveled both directions for when the train itself went in the opposite direction. At first I sat the wrong direction, before noticing everyone else and switching it around. It was still completely dark outside, and although my eyes were wide with nervousness, they were sleepy otherwise. I enjoyed looking out the window nonetheless, at the twinkling lights in the sea of dark. Faintly, blue crept into the horizon. Reaching the airport stop at about 7AM, I exited the train and followed the signs up to the airport entrance to locate my airline name. I took out my precious printed boarding pass, and after observing a few others, stepped up to a table to ask a question but instead they just stamped my boarding pass and ushered me through security. I was apprehensive about sending my bag through security because I was not certain if it would be too big to be carry-on (it wasn't, as it turns out, because I saw folks with bags twice its size), and also because I was harboring two jars of peanut butter in it. In Japan, domestic flights are far more relaxed than in the U.S., and people sometimes even travel with such items as sake bottles! But I was not certain of the rules for peanut butter. Sure enough, it was no trouble at all! I wound up through security, puzzled by the ease. I hadn't even taken off my shoes! The Shin-Chitose airport is quite small, and I found my gate a minute's walk away. I had been so nervous about arriving on time, I had ended up about an hour earlier than necessary. I probably could have arrived 45 minutes before hand and been just fine. But I felt proud--I had made it through, made it to the airport, gotten my bag through, and had not caused any international incidents. I was wearing numerous layers of clothes to ward of the Sapporo winter, but in the airport (as in most buildings in Hokkaido) it was quite hot. I waited for the plane to arrive, listened closely to the announcements, and got on board. To my surprise, I had all three seats in the row to myself since the flight was not crowded. I looked out the window at the snow and ice, and hilly horizon now in the sunrise. As the plane took off, I bid them farewell, curious to see if I would feel the same separation I had felt upon leaving behind my home. Instead, I felt a growing sense of excitement and accomplishment. I napped a little on the short flight (about an hour and a half flight). I looked out the window watching the cities of Honshu whiz past on the ground below, thinking back to the very first time I had seen the ground of Japan on my first flight to Narita 3 months prior. Before I knew it, we had landed. I collected my bag, and exited. The friend that I was planning to meet would not be arriving until about 5PM, which I had not fully realized when I purchased my ticket. So I found myself with quite a bit of time to spare, but not quite enough to wander too far. I figured out how to take the connection bus between Narita Terminal 2 and 1. My first goal was to scope out where my friend's flight would be landing and where she would be exiting. This was rather overwhelming at first, because I did not want to miss her or lose her in the airport so I wanted to be exact. Fortunately, as I slowly gathered, all flights are funneled through the same exit. I checked her flight and airline multiple times, just to be safe. Afterwards, I explored the "airport mall" of the airport, then decided to try to attempt a little exploration. It was only about 11AM, and so there was considerable time left and I did not want to spend it all in the airport twiddling my thumbs. I asked at an information desk about seeing the city of Narita, which is only about a 15 minute subway ride from the airport. I decided to try this. I checked my duffle bag for safekeeping at the airport, pulled out my backpack, and filled it with maps and pamphlets. Regrettably, my fear of trains and subways near Tokyo did not fail me. Everything was so complicated and fast paced, I tried my best to sort things out but it was so overwhelming and unfamiliar. I did my best to follow the directions I had been given, bought a ticket, and tried to decipher the correct train. When it arrived, I got on, but while trying to catch a glimpse of the blurred signs as they past, I second-guessed my self and hurriedly got off after only two stops thinking that it was going in the wrong way. In fact, I had only traveled back from Terminal 1 (international flights) to Terminal 2 (domestic flights, primarily)--the very same thing I had done earlier on the connection bus! I felt like a fool. I stood waiting for another train, but when I could not read what train it was I was to nervous to jump on (as I later realized, there are "normal" trains, "local" trains, "express" trains, etc. Local means it goes to all stops, express means it skips some. I had assumed these all meant they were bound for different places entirely). Gradually, the platform became empty. I was standing all along, except for the train security worker keeping an eye on the tracks and doors when trains arrived. At this point, after becoming so turned around by the trains, and realizing how absolutely on my own I was--how far from everything I knew, and how there would be no one at all to help me--I was distraught and scared. I didn't want to seem so incapable. But I was on the verge of tears at the knowledge of just how intimidated I was. Noticing that I was standing all alone at the tracks and knowing the schedule better than I, he asked where I was trying to go. When I told him sheepishly and shakily, he apologetically informed me that the last train had left a few minutes ago and another would not arrive for about 45 minutes. Tears started to betray me, gathering in the corners of my eyes despite my efforts, and when the worker was distracted by a different train, I ran away, jumping into an elevator to try to collect myself. I tried to re-orient myself and to figure out the next train. Sure enough, it was about 45 minutes wait. I decided to wander once more in the airport mall and try to calm down. I bought a little snack of yogurt-covered cranberries (a real treat in Japan), looked around, and tried to pass the time calmly. The cranberries did me good. It is odd what little things can do to cheer you up. Then I headed back down to the subway for my second try. This time when I got on, even though I was not 100% certain, I decided to stay on the train and just see where I ended up. The worst case is that I would get off again, and come back. Luckily, it seemed to be correct and I was encouraged when I began to hear announcements for Narita. It was not a long ride, but I watched with fascination as green bamboo and trees passed by the windows. The weather was in the high 40s, and felt balmy to me in my many sweaters, and my winter skin. Approaching Narita station, I spied the beautiful top of a temple tucked behind the buildings and houses. I felt more confident. It must be Narita--there is a temple, Shinshou-ji, located in Narita which is one of the main attractions. Oddly enough for such a small town, it is an extremely historic Buddhist temple. I got off the train, tried to locate the "main street", and began to feel much happier. The main street went up and down, packed with small traditional Japanese snack shops, restaurants, food stores, and gift shops. The mainstreet ('omotesando') is supposed to replicate the feel of "old" Japan, I am told. The air smelled delicious, and I even stopped and bought some cooked sweet potato sticks from an old lady vendor. They were delicious. At the end of the "main street" the buildings became larger, and more grandiose. My awe began to grow. This beautiful architecture, these incredible buildings, these are all daily life for the residents of Narita. I was in shock, my fascination increasing with every step. I passed through the gates, observing Buddhist grave stones being carved, then marveled at the steep steps up to the main temple ground. It was incredible. I can barely put into words my awe. I thought I had come to know something of Japan after 3 months, but I realized then how very little I have seen. How many amazing places there are yet to explore. I could not believe that little old me, someone who never imagined being able to travel outside of the U.S., now standing in the midst of such incredible sights. At the top of the steep stairs there was a beautiful, intricate, colorful three-tiered building, and centrally a large temple. Outside, in the middle of the open square, there was a large pot filled with the ashes from burned incense. Ahead of me at the large temple workers were hanging a huge multicolored banner to hang across the roof. I am guessing it was preparation for new years. I went inside and stepped up to the offering box, throwing in a few yen, bowing, clapping, and paying my respects. I was not sure of the layout of the grounds, but I followed a path leading into a more wooded area. This turned out to lead through the Buddhist cemetery. Large stone monuments and gravestones melded seamlessly with the plants and trees. I was followed on this trail by a family with two cheerful, playful children who continued to run up and down on the trail racing. I thought of how normal everything might have felt to them, but how new it was to me. Walking along this path was when the realization of green leaves hit me the strongest. I was surrounded by green and abundant (photosynthesizing!) leaves in December. This moment more than made up for my mishaps earlier, restoring my curiosity and thankfulness. The path continued onwards, down a hill into a carefully kept Japanese-style garden. Walking down the hill, I could see a large pond with a pagoda-style building stretching from the shore. There were gardeners throughout, pruning shrubs, and raking away all leaf-litter. I felt that each inch of the garden, quite open and sparse by western standards, had been carefully groomed. Carefully thought out. As someone studying ecology, I was very aware of how unsustainable such a garden was--how delicate and completely based on human tastes it was. Nonetheless, it was beautiful and certainly a different experience of a garden style. I walked out onto the pagoda, and watched large golden, white, and spotted koi circle in the water below. As I continued on, I wondered how much farther the path would go. It seemed that I had already walked someways, and the grand buildings just kept appearing. Finally, I came to a large fountain and strict, geometric landscaping. Looking upwards, I could see the spire of the temple itself. I climbed the stairs, and before stood the largest building yet. I was again in awe. Keeping a close watch on the time, I decided to continue just a little bit further, passing through more distinctly-Japanese buildings and smaller temples. To my surprise, I emerged back at the start. I had made the whole loop! I had been concerned about the time it would take to walk back, and so it was really quite fortunate and rewarding to have walked through the whole grounds. Satisfied and more than a bit entranced, it was time to go. I bid farewell for the time, bowing at the gate, and heading back to the mainstreet. Towards the end, I stopped to buy an anko (red-bean paste) filled pastry, freshly pressed and still warm. I ate this happily as I walked back to the train. Arriving at the station, an elderly lady noticed the lost look on my face, and asked me where I needed to go. I said the airport, and even when I started walking in the wrong direction, she adamantly and concernedly corrected me. So far I had left two people in my wake to wonder if I would ever reach my goal. (The first was the train conductor) The count would continue, but after my first mishap I was more calm.
I made it back to the airport with plenty of time to spare. But better early than late. And as luck would have it, my friend's flight had suddenly been updated to arrive an hour earlier than scheduled, so I did not have quite as long to wait. I passed the time heading out to the observation deck which directly overlooks the runways as planes land and take off, soaking in the warm weather. As 4:30 approached, I headed down to the exit gate to wait for my friend. I clung close to the gate, watching closely for any sign of her as waves of people came and went with each flight. Then there she was! I was so relieved. I had been nervous that somehow I would miss her, or mistake the location. She had been nervous about this also, because while visiting another friend in Korea once it had taken hours for them to locate each other (all without means of proper communication). I was so excited that, after double checking which train to take into Tokyo towards our hostel, we even headed down into the train station, checking our tickets, before I remembered with distress that I had left my bag for safekeeping at the luggage counter! We had already passed through the train station gates, but I explained to a station security guard and he let me go back through, retrieve my back, and come back in without paying. You will learn that, as a result of my experiences traveling, I have high regard for train station security guards for all the patience and directions they have given me. I explained to my friend that, though I would do my best to navigate successfully, I was far from an expert on Tokyo. Indeed, I admitted, she probably knew just about as much as I did. This is probably an exaggeration, but as far as navigating the Tokyo subways I had my taste when I first arrived, and knew to expect trouble. I knew that on this leg, to get from the airport to Asakusa (where our hostel was located) we would have to switch trains. We got off at a station to transfer, but had a few moments of confusion trying to decipher which train to get on next. I decided then and there just to start asking people when I was unsure. That was quite a wise decision to make, and saved a lot of unnecessary hassle later on. And, it was Japanese language practice anyways. I decided it was silly not to ask for help when needed, and that I would learn with time. I asked a professional looking business man, and he confirmed that it was the correct train and even kept an eye out to make sure we didn't miss it. It was unfortunate that it was already dark, because my friend (Kait!) and I would have liked to see the cityscape. But I am so grateful that, at last, we arrived at the stop as described in the directions I had triple-checked. Next it was up to my phone to help us locate the hostel in the dark. It was only about 7:30PM, but I know that the little ability I have at navigating disappears completely at night. I had written down the address of the hostel just about everywhere possible, and so we were off. We crossed over a large bridge overlooking the Sumida river, and I was proud to be able to point out a few famous landmarks, like the Asahi Beer Factory (on top is a golden sculpture of literally "unidentified" shape), and Sky Tree (the tallest tower in Tokyo). There were a few mis-steps as we sought out the hostel, and the neighborhood became less glamorous and more plain. Not quite the image of Tokyo that my friend (or even I) had. There was a large crane and construction site next to a closed up temple, and then just down the narrow, poorly lit street was our hostel--Khaosan Tokyo Smile. I had warned my friend that I had never stayed there before, and did not know at all what to expect. So it was with trepidation that I stepped inside, and opened the cramped lobby door to find a lounge populated by young people watching TV. The atmosphere was extremely relaxed. I walked towards the desk, and was happy when they greeted me and ushered me over to help. I was even happier to learn that I had actually been successful in making the reservation and that my name appeared on the list. I had feared that perhaps somehow something would go wrong, and we would be left without a place to stay. For the first night, I had managed to reserve a private 'double' bedroom. The day that I made the reservations, everything had suddenly began to fill up for the holiday season, and even as I had clicked to make the reservations they were snatched up. So the private rooms were all taken except for that first night. I had explained this to my friend, hoping she wouldn't mind. I was just glad for a private room the first night, especially so she could get some sleep after a long flight. We were led outside and to a separate building, up a tiny, long, steep staircase and into what appeared to be an apartment. There was a central kitchen/dining room with a young woman sitting reading at the table. We were led up another small staircase and to a bedroom, which would be our room. The receptionist left us to unpack. We unlocked the door, crossing our fingers. Inside it was, as I had expected, very, very small. There was a bunk bed, and a small desk, and really not much more space except for a person to stand. I shrugged--after all, I'm quite used to it--and asked if my friend would be okay. I'm guessing that she was overjoyed about it, but she was open to the experience. I still hadn't eaten dinner, but my friend was really getting sleepy from jetlag although it was only around 8PM. I had wanted to perhaps find a restaurant to give her a good Japanese dinner, but I could tell she would be too tired. As it were, she had packed a subway sandwich in her bag from home, so was all set. We compromised and wandered a short distance to find a konbini, where I bought some onigiri for dinner. I was amused by my friend's reaction to the shared bathroom--to the set up of the shower (which is a showerhead on a cord without exception, because of the Japanese custom of scrubbing/showering first and then getting into a bath) and the fact that the windows were open letting in the night air. It was also interesting to us both that in this shared "house/apartment" (now made into a hostel), the toilet was located across the hall in its own little closet sized room. Although I thought the weather and room were rather warm, my friend thought it was cold and wanted to turn up the heat as high as possible. This made me a little nervous, being in the top bunk next to the heater. But it did make me sleepy, and as a result I fell asleep quite easily with only a sheet over me.
Saturday (2/22) -- When we woke up, it was raining outside. I cracked open our tiny window, and noticed it had quite the view of Sky Tree. I found this amusing, because usually rooms with a view in the U.S. cost extra. Not our tiny room. We packed up our bags again to make the move to the shared "dormitory", since we only had a private room for the night. The dormitory was located in the main hostel building, with the reception lobby. We exchanged our keys, and were shown upstairs. Inside were separate rooms, each with walls lined with wooden boxes. The boxes were stacked like double bunk beds, with four to a wall and sliding doors. I thought they looked cozy. I do not know how my friend felt, but she said she was up for giving it a try. Secretly, I was a little excited and intrigued. How economical, and how fun. As I've explained, all I need is a bed and all this was was just that, a bed. In a box. We put our things inside the boxes, slid shut the doors and locked the little padlock. I put on my raincoat. Our plan for the morning was to find what I have heard is the most renowned art store in Tokyo, called Ito-ya. Ever since arriving in Japan I have been in search of handcrafted Japanese paper, which I admired so much when I was an intern at Minnesota Center for Book Arts during highschool. Furthermore, I have always heard of the craft, skill, and beauty of Japanese paper. Therefore, coming to Japan, I expected to be able to easily locate these treasures. Not so. At least, not so in Sapporo. I have searched endlessly in Sapporo for any semblance of an art supply store or craft store, and though they may exist, they must be mighty well-hidden. I have missed art stores so much, and in fact it has been causing me quite a bit of headache. I had come to the end of my supply of watercolor paper, and search though I may could find no supplies in Sapporo. All the paper labeled as "watercolor" was cheap, flimsy, and not of any decent quality. I always found this to be such a frustration, in a land of such long-marveled papermaking. Now, at last, in Tokyo I had been told that Ito-ya had been around for a long time, and specialized in beautiful paper and art supplies. It was located in Ginza, better yet, which would allow us to see this famous "rich" (and I mean RICH) area of Tokyo. Stepping out the door of the hostel, it was still raining. Because it is technically winter, it was a very cold rain. Secretly, I wanted to find a place for breakfast along the way. I had not yet gauged if my friend was a breakfast eater. I love breakfast. It is by far the best meal (though I like food at anytime). But I did not want to be a bother, so casually mentioned it. As it turns out, my friend is someone whose mood turns a bit foul when they get hungry. Had I known this, I would have been glad to stop immediately to eat. My sister is very similar. Once she starts getting hungry, her temperament changes. This is not so much the case for me, because I rarely feel "hunger" (as much as I love eating). As my friend described me, my temperament for the most part is "homeostatic." I'm "ok" in most situations. Of course, my family may say differently and that is because I only really show more dramatic emotions around those I am extremely comfortable with. (A pity and a privilege for my family, I suppose). We needed to take a subway to reach Ginza in any timely manner from Asakusa. Here I should explain that all these names I will be throwing around are more or less "neighborhoods" of Tokyo. My friend did not allow me quite as much patience as I would have liked in order to navigate with a level head. So when we entered the Asakusa station, feeling pressure from the crowd and from my friend to keep moving and not make her wait, I ended up choosing the wrong train. We got on, and after about ten minutes when we emerged to higher ground and could see out the windows, I could tell that we were headed the wrong way. We jumped off at the next stop, still in the chilly rain. I could sense that my friend was displeased, though she tried to be patient. I had given fair warning that I would make mistakes, but would do my best. And frankly, I do think I did quite a good job throughout, what for being thrown into one of the largest, densest, tangliest metropolitan areas in the world and told "go!" I wasn't quite certain how to get us in the right direction, and there were not a lot of people. But after consulting with a mom and her young child, I took her advice and we waited for another train. Fortunately, this took us towards Ginza. When we got out of the station, I had put the address of the art store in my phone to help us navigate walking. But in the cold, cold rain, holding my phone without my glove on, my hand started to ache with pain. Our umbrellas, which we had borrowed from the hostel, we not keeping us very dry and as useful as my phone is, it takes a little bit for me to orient myself based on the moving pinpoint. My friend, unbeknownst to me becoming more impatient due primarily to her hunger, made me feel as though I was completely inept at navigating. I just move at a slower pace--and I accept that I make mistakes. I felt so bad to not be able to navigate more efficiently in the cold rain, but there was not much to be done. I felt as though even to ask her to stop and let me orient ourselves was frustrating to her. In her defense, it was very unpleasant in the rain, she was hungry, unable to communicate in the language, and also still jet-lagged. Eventually, passing a few restaurants, I asked if we should just stop for lunch. She agreed. I would have liked to search for a better place, but feeling pushed, I suggested the noodle shop next to us that sold soba, udon, and ramen. This was my first experience using the "machine" system of ordering. This means that there is a large machine (like a vending machine) with many buttons and selections. You insert your money, make a selection, and receive a ticket. Then you give the ticket to the waitress, and your meal is prepared. Unfortunately, all the buttons were written in Kanji (save a few), and did not have pictures. I am far from an expert in the names of soba and udon varieties. And as a vegetarian, I dislike not knowing what in the world I am ordering because in Japan 10 out of 10 times it will contain meat. Luckily, the old lady who was the waitress was patient with us beyond all expectation. She explained the ingredients. Still feeling a little rushed, and stressed also by the sudden wave of every middle-aged working man within 5 miles trying to order lunch and squeeze inside the restaurant just after we stepped inside, I didn't really get to look at a lot of options. I suggested she order what the waitress had offered (and which a noodle-slurping construction worker had affirmed mid-slurp was 'delicious'). Having spent most of the time trying to translate for my friend, when it came to be my turn I had almost no time to decide. I hurriedly selected Kitsune Soba, since I am familiar with it. This is just soba noodles in mysterious (probably soy sauce or fish based) broth, and a thin slab of tofu. We were extremely fortunate to snag two bar stools at a counter amidst the frenzy in the tiny shop. We sat down, and soon our bowls were ready. I had forgotten, when we started to eat, how unfamiliar it is for most Americans to eat everything with chopsticks! I am so accustomed to it, the very idea of using a fork nowadays is odd. I often say that I am now out of practice with silverware. But for my friend, understandably, this was a bit of a challenge! She worked valiantly to grip the slippery udon noodles. I was proud of her for sticking with it! Feeling a little warmer and our bellies full, we headed back out into the rain. I still had trouble locating the store, and just when I thought that I might give up because of the cold and nervousness of disappointing my friend, she looked up and there was a small sign for Ito-ya. We had found it! Soggy, squeaky, and shivering, we walked in, realizing suddenly just how bedraggled and out of place we appeared. This is because the first floor of the store is extremely fancy. The first floor is devoted entirely to pens. And not just any pens--diamond pens, gold pens, pens fit for a president, whatever you can imagine! They were all displayed carefully in glass cases like jewelry. Indeed, when we first stepped in, I briefly thought that we had made a mistake and entered a jewelry shop. I glanced at the prices of the pens--some in the order of thousands of dollars. No thank you, I thought! We looked at the list on the wall for the floor guide, and found the stairs and headed up. Each level has a different supply or focus. For example, some contained only journals, others writing utensils, etc. I really wanted to spend more time looking at all the different pencils. When we reached the paints/general art supply level, I was in complete heaven. Everywhere I looked were my dear supplies--paints, watercolors, colored pencils, sketchbooks. It had been so long since I had seen such things. And to my joy, watercolor paper. True watercolor paper. I could have spent many hours here. While we were looking around, I received a message from my fellow Fulbrighter, Veronica. Veronica is based in Tsukuba, which is about a 2 hour train ride from Tokyo. Knowing I would be in Tokyo, she had asked to meet up! I was so happy! When we had left the hostel earlier I had sent her the address of the art store and told her approximately when we would be there. So she had taken the train in to Tokyo. When I received a message, she said that she had arrived and was on the same floor as us. But the floor we were on was quite small, and I looked through the shelves and saw no one. We both said that we were certain of the floor we were on. Then, after calling, we realized that actually there are two Ito-ya stores. Luckily they are right across the street from each other. One is the smaller, fancier, "designer" store (where Kait and I were) and the other is the main store, which is far larger. Veronica was on the same floor, but across the street. She came to find us, and after three months since we had parted ways after the Fulbright orientation, we were reunited! I was so glad to see her! After all, according to our Fulbright Fellowship, I am Gimli and she is Legolas. So we ought to have at least a few journeys together! It turns out that Veronica is very artsy herself, and there are few things better than to freak out about amazing art supplies together with another artist. I sincerely hope that Kait was amused by our entrancement. I stocked up, at long last, on watercolor paper and a few more supplies. I wanted to buy so many more, but didn't want to make everyone wait so I could keep looking (I could have, left on my own, looked around for hours.) And we wanted to go see the main Ito-ya store, as well. So we crossed the street and went in. The main store lived up to the reputation that I had heard of it--mainly, that it is huge, and that it is busy. There were so many wonderful items on each of the many floors. I was glad also when Veronica was able to pick out a lovely leather journal for her father. When we reached the long-awaited paper floor, I was enthralled. They were so beautiful. Unfortunately, I couldn't buy any for fear they would be ruined in the rain and the trip back to Sapporo. But I vowed to return. When we reached the top floor, we were greeted unexpectedly by the sun! The rain had stopped and the clouds had cleared to blue sky over the magnificent streets of Ginza.
      We headed out into the busy crowds, along the picturesque streets and ritzy shops. Because it happened to be a Saturday, all traffic is closed off and the streets are opened completely to pedestrians. This was one instance where my previous images of "Tokyo" synced with reality. It was quite surreal. We were all relieved and thankful for the sunshine after nearly drowning in the morning. We decided to find a place to get a snack. We all adamantly agreed on this. While walking, the crowds in the middle of the street began to part. A string of five or so male models in smart clothes holding banners were strutting down the street, and folks began to take pictures. Veronica noticed a large, many floored and wellknown cafe that overlooked the infamous clocktower of Ginza. We went in and order some delicious snacks. I ordered "mumburando", which I have heard so much of but never tasted. It looks, to be honest, like a small pile of noodles. Actually, it is finely overlaid chestnut/peanut cream over a dessert. In other words, it is delicious. I also ordered a blueberry bagel. Kait and Veronica order similarly delicious meals. As are all cafes, restaurants, and buildings in general throughout Japan, it was busy. We feared we would find no place to sit. We managed somehow to find a small table and squished together. I have to say, this constant lack of places to sit in places where you are required to sit is a persistent annoyance in Japan. I do not understand why cafes in Japan do not anticipate that they will need tables and places to accommodate their guests--and in appropriate abundance. There is never a place to sit, ever. It is always a stressful battle, and frankly one that could be easily fixed with proper forethought on the part of eating establishments. Or any forethought at all. But in any case, I really enjoyed sitting together with my friends, and having a chance to catch up with both Kait and Veronica. Kait is a very friendly person, and I was glad that her and Veronica made such easy conversation together despite having just met. The very idea that we were all eating desserts together overlooking the fancy streets of Ginza, so frequently graced by the presence of celebrities and famous people, was incredible. Hoping to use a little bit more of the brilliant sunlight before it set (since it still sets about 4PM), Veronica offered to try to find a huge toy store that she had heard about. Kait liked the idea, and I did too. So we were off. The strange thing about walking through Ginza to me is that although I marveled at its beauty and the crisp, pristine expensive stores towering around me, I know nothing of fancy brands. In fact, if anything, I harbor a deep dislike for them. Kait would say, "look! A Zara!" or "Look! Tiffany's", etc. etc. but most of the time I had no real idea of what they were besides a trap to fool people into spending money wastefully and indulgently (and for what? For images sake?). It was in Ginza that some of my feelings towards wealth and excess began to surface. The idea of people coming to Ginza and buying these wealthy things, of celebrities, and well-off...I continued to think, I am happy sleeping in my wooden box, walking around in my hiking boots. If I were wealthy, I would consider it immoral to live in such excess. I would live as I do now, and give the rest to help others. That is what is so overlooked--that if you want wealth, it comes with responsibility, because that money came on the backs of others no matter what others say. I was reminded of a tradition I had learned about many southeastern native nations, like the Cherokee, Muscogee, Chickasaw, and Choctaw. Although there are variations by tribe, a general ideal is that a leader who acquires wealth should live humbly, because all wealth is a privilege to distribute amongst others. This is what I try to explain when political troubles, such as the recent tax-increase fiasco, occur. If you want wealth, then accept the responsibility. If you don't want the responsibility, there is a perfectly wonderful life for you living humbly anyways. It sickens and perplexes me to glorify wealth and fame. So although I found Ginza to be absolutely stunning, I wish that it was not solely the abode of wealthy people.
   In the toy store, there were children running around and so many interesting things. Kait was able to find a souvenir. As evening fell, Veronica would soon need to catch her train back to Tsukuba. But she offered kindly to come with us back towards Asakusa and show us Kaminari-mon. This is a large gate with a humungous red lantern, and statues to either side. It leads into a long stretch of souvenir tents and food vendors all the way up to the entrance to Sensou-ji. It is admittedly one of the most "touristy" locations in Tokyo, and many of the souvenir shops boarder on being cliche. But sometimes, gifts like these, which seem to be infused with as much "Japan" as possible, are fun to give. In Sapporo, such things are fairly rare. Indeed, I've actually struggled to find good souvenirs to send others that are clearly from Japan and not things you might find anywhere. I enjoyed glancing through the stands, although I would have liked to look longer. Kait was in search of a sake cup for a friend, and Veronica was in search of a replica sword for her boyfriend! I couldn't believe it when she bought one! It was not ridiculously expensive, but still a large gift. It was fun to watch her purchase it and carry with her. For dinner, although Veronica need to head back to Tsukuba, but another Fulbrighter (Libby) was in Tokyo and had offered to meet us. Originally, she had asked to meet us at a different station, but Veronica suggested that we all meet at Kaminari-mon since it is only about a twenty minute walk from our hostel and I am always concerned about getting lost at night. We said farewell to Veronica and thanked her for a fun day together. Then, after a little bit of searching, Libby and I were able to locate each other. Kait, Libby, and I wandered around the Kaminari-mon for a while, trying to decide on what would be good to eat. Unfortunately, Libby had eaten a late lunch and was not especially hungry yet. The whole time I was in Tokyo, I kept wanting to go to interesting restaurants to eat, but folks kept not being hungry! We had a lot of trouble deciding, and second guessed ourselves. Then I suggested, as per Veronica's recommendation, that maybe we try taking a look in Sky Tree. None of us had been inside this infamously tall tower, and so it would be a good way to see someplace new and probably find something yummy. As we were walking, Libby suggested Okonomiyaki! This is a wonderful invention, often described as the Japanese take on pizza. However, that should not suggest that it resembles pizza in any way other than the addition of cheese, and its circular shape. It translates roughly to "as you like it." I have heard of this delicious food for many years, but never tried it. Libby was shocked. Kait was excited too, because she had heard of it. In her short stay in Japan, she wanted to try as many Japanese staples as possible. So we all agreed it was an excellent plan. The walk from Kaminari-mon to Sky Tree took longer than expected (who knew! Tall things are actually farther away than they appear!). But once we arrived, we were able to locate an Okonomiyaki restaurant on the food floor. So up we went, and waited in line. Inside the restaurant, the table was made of a large square metal hot plate. Everything smelled delicious. The okonomiyaki, when it arrives, is served directly onto the metal hot plate. Then you cut it with a spatula and put pieces onto your plate. It was absolutely delicious. Libby was glad to celebrate such a momentous occasion with me. Because I am able to eat a heck of a lot, I had no trouble finishing mine. The others started to get full part way, but managed to finish their's as well. I truly enjoyed talking with Libby and learning about her time in Tsukuba. Meeting up with Libby and Veronica that day made me realize how much I would like to see the other Fulbrighters more. Libby needed to catch the last train to Tsukuba, and so our parting was rather rushed. She had to leap into a packed elevator after I said "leave us behind! Save yourself!", since it was so busy and would have cost her the last train if we had all waited for another elevator.  Kait and I headed back to our hostel, and tried out our first night in our snug wooden boxes.
Wednesday (12/23)-- I awoke in my wooden box quite pleasantly. Not sure if my friend was awake just yet, I let myself leisurely get dressed. We tried our best each day to set out fairly early. If I remember correctly, we woke up and were headed out by about 9AM. This time, both because Kait herself admitted that she becomes a little bit snippy when she is hungry and because I love breakfast, we made a plan to search for breakfast along the way. December 23rd is the emperor's birthday, and a national holiday. It is one of only two days a year when the inner grounds of the imperial palace are open. So our goal was to get inside! Kait and I were both excited that it happened to work out that she would be visiting Tokyo at this time. We were able to get on the correct subway, and exited fairly close to the Imperial Palace. We did have a bit of a walk between the station and the palace, through less residential and much more "Tokyo"-esque downtown. The feeling of the area was very similar to Michigan Ave in Chicago, we agreed. Ahead, I could see what appeared to be the large moat surrounding the palace and wide open streets. Knowing now where we were, we decided it would be a good place to search for breakfast before entering the grounds. We turned back and searched. We had some trouble at first locating a place, but then I started looking closely at signs on buildings. Often, there are many cafes and restaurants tucked away on floors of large buildings. We found a sign with the name of a cafe chain I recognized, and a Starbucks. We entered the building and went down to the basement level. Sure enough, there were a number of restaurants. I suggested that we avoid the Starbucks and chose the Japanese chain because of how very overpriced Starbucks is in Japan. This turned out to be a good choice, because the St. Marc's cafe chain we went to served much cheaper, but equally delicious croissants, hot drinks, and breakfast foods. I ordered a hot chocolate, a croissant, and an egg-topped bread. When we were finished with our excellent breakfast, we were on our way to the Imperial Palace. I had tried to do a bit of research before hand to know where we should enter. But I was still uncertain. We walked along the moat a short distance, pleased to see runners all around us zooming past. Apparently, it is approximately 1.5-2 miles to go around the outside of the palace, which makes it one of the best places to run and workout. There are always many runners making loops. I was so jealous, because I had wanted to go for a run here too. I had even packed my running shoes. Furthermore, compared to the many layers of running tights, under-armor, coats, socks, mittens, etc. that I must wear just to trot over frozen snowpack at great risk in Sapporo, many runners were wearing shorts and long sleeve shirts. They were speeding along on clear, safe ground, in the perfect mild weather. I thought to myself, these runners in Tokyo have no excuse not to be in amazing shape! They can run whenever they wish, even in the winter, without trouble! Indeed, I must admit that I was rather annoyed whenever I heard anyone complain about the weather in Tokyo. They ought to spend a week in Sapporo (or Minnesota), and then they would be kissing the beautiful ice-free streets and soaking in every ray of warm sunshine. I do appear to be quite frustrated with the cold weather in Sapporo, but the truth is I do enjoy many aspects of winter as well. However, I cannot hide that when it comes to being able to run, warmer weather is far more convenient. I often greatly enjoy my winter runs, watching the puffs of steam as I go and the crisp crunch under my feet as I speed along, the cool taste of the air, but a little less peril would be okay too. As we neared what I was guessing was a main gate, more and more visitors amassed. There seemed to be a steady stream headed in one direction, so we followed along. Lines were forming in front of security checks. This was a surprise! We thought through what we might have on us that could be a security issue, hoping not to cause any trouble as foreigners. It turns out that if you have flags or other national symbols from other countries you cannot bring them in. Luckily, we were not wearing any such things. They checked our bags, and patted us down, but we made it through. I have a tiny keychain with an Ainu design on  it, and I was nervous when the security guard checking my bag lifted this up and scrutinized it, but she said nothing about it and let me through. There was a whole wave of people now, crowding us on all sides and scooting us along. So no need to worry about where to go! The current was sure to bring us there. En route, a line of adorable Japanese elementary school children was going through the crowds handing out paper Japanese flags. They even gave one to me! At first I wasn't sure if the child was just waving the flag, or giving it to me, but when I saw others receive them I happily accepted it too. Kait told me afterwards that she had noticed a number of Japanese people watch me to see if I took it. I'm sure glad I did! As a Fulbrighter representing the U.S., I wanted to show my enthusiasm and openness to Japan. I wanted to participate in the celebration too. There were announcements over megaphone being made, stating that the Emperor's next appearance would be around 11AM. He apparently made appearances every 45 minutes or so throughout the day. Some birthday, Kait pointed out! We found a spot amidst the big crowd in front of the balcony, and enjoyed talking to each other while we waited about 30 minutes for the emperor's appearance. We were packed tighter and tighter as time passed. Lucky for Kait, she is quite tall, so seeing wasn't a problem. I was amused by the security guards here and there throughout the crowd. The one in front of me, standing with arms crossed, was literally dozing in and out of sleep. There was an announcement that the royal family was entering the balcony. The crowd erupted with cheers and "bonzai!", and waving flags. I waved my flag too! A few in the crowd thew up there arms continuously, shouting "bonzai!" each time. The emperor came to the microphone and everyone quietly listened to his speech. I was pleasantly surprised to actually be able to understand most of it! When he finished, everyone cheered again, and the royal family waved some more. I waved back, telling myself how amazing it was to be waving at an emperor. The royal family exited the balcony, and the crowds began to move out.
     After seeing the emperor and royal family, we strolled through the rest of the palace grounds, gardens, and beautiful historical buildings. There was so much human history in each footstep, wall, bridge, moat, and rock. We climbed up to a lookout point, from which there was an excellent view of the city. What an interesting contrast it was to see the traditional buildings of the palace, and the skyscrapers of Tokyo. We were even lucky to see some blooming cherry trees. Just a few, with tiny, subtle blossoms. But I was happy to see flowers. Kait, it turns out, is obsessed with flowers. She loves taking pictures of them. So I was glad that we could find some even in winter. After covering most of the grounds, our next goal was to head in the direction of Harajuku and Meiji-jingu. I mapped out the course, and opted to walk there. I really prefer walking over the subway. First of all, there is less risk of ending up in a whole other city by accident. Second of all, you are able to see so much more. In total, it was probably only a couple miles. The walk was breathtaking. The first part took us around the outside of the palace along the moat. We passed by the Tokyo Art Museum on our right, and beautiful landscapes, walls, trees, and plants on our left. Then we passed through a quiet business and apartment area. In this quiet area, we found a tiny bakery. It was perfect timing for lunch. We are both baked goods enthusiasts. Stepping inside, there were large, Christmas-themed decorated breads, in shapes of santa claus, snowmen, and other cute designs. The older lady at the counter explained that this had been reserved in advance for Christmas eve meals. The shelves had so many different breads, many inspired by Europe, but all with a distinctly Japanese twist. For example, there were european style breads with anko (bean paste) inside, or red beans sprinkled on top. This is common at the numerous bakeries throughout Japan. Although Americans are accused of having a sweet tooth, I would argue that Japanese people in general have a sweeter one. I helped Kait as best as I could to translate the names of the different pastries and goods and to help give suggestions. I told her that one thing she must definitely not miss out on in Japan is "melon-pan." We both made sure to buy one. I also got a croissant, a chocolate muffin and a small green tea cake (for tomorrow's breakfast). While we were walking, I deeply enjoyed watching the neighborhoods of the city around us change and shift ever so slightly. We took a short break so that we could eat our melon-pan. Kait agreed, it was delicious. I took a bite, and informed her that we had chosen a good bakery because they were especially tasty. We passed on to another scenic park-like stretch of the walk. I began to realize that the area was starting to look oddly familiar. That leg of our walk had actually brought us through the very same part of Tokyo where I had gone for runs during the Fulbright orientation! It is a spare imperial residence of some sort, as I mentioned all those months past. It was such a surreal feeling to be back in that very same spot again, retracing my steps. I could distinctly visualize my memories of running there. The nervousness, mixed with comfort, of the runs in what had been such an utterly new place. Returning now, I felt a slightly different person. More brave, more comfortable, but still with much ahead of me to learn. We paused in front of the immaculate National Diet building, which I remember so clearly passing on my runs as a landmark. Our walk continued through beautiful park streets, and then shifted into the cityscape of Shibuya. While walking along these fancy streets, a number of extremely expensive cars passed us in the streets, as well as a motorcycle group all dressed in Santa Claus costumes! Our main goal was Meiji-jingu, but along the way I wanted us to stop for a meal at a wonderful sounding restaurant I had researched. It was apparently friendly to vegetarians, and in Harajuku just outside of Meiji-jingu, so a perfect location. We tried to follow the directions on my phone, entering the tight, compact streets of Harajuku. There were many unique houses packed along these narrow roads, and cars--though they attempted to drive through whenever possible--could just barely fit through. At first there were not many people, but as we neared the heart of Harajuku, crowds accumulated. We emerged from these smaller streets into a much busier main street, lined with large stores. According to my phone, it was always just a little bit farther to the restaurant. I had dragged Kait all the way across Tokyo on our walk, and spent so much time searching for the restaurant, she was very kind not to make us give up on finding it. Just when I thought I might completely disappoint her by not being able to find it, there it was ahead of us, tucked away! The Eco-cafe 632. I was overjoyed. And soon, I would be even happier. When I stepped up to the door, I was shocked to spy the word "manoomin" ("wild rice" in Anishinaabemowin) from the corner of my eye. I looked down at the display table outside. There, in the middle of Harajuku, was Dennis Banks Minnesota wild rice and maple syrup. I was floored. I couldn't believe it! It was such an unexpected, wonderful surprise. I was even more excited to go inside. They even had Mr. Dennis Banks' CD for sale! The feel of the restaurant was bright and open, with large windows letting in the sun. We were led to a table, and given menus. At first, I thought everything might contain meat, which was a bit disappointing. But while talking with the waiter, he actually went to check if they could change the Japanese curry dish to be vegetarian. Sure enough, they did! Kait ordered the normal green curry and I ordered the special vegetarian one. When the meals arrived, they looked scrumptious. We started to eat, but I soon realized that there was meat in mine. I was perplexed. Then I realized that they had served the vegetarian meal to Kait and the regular one to me. I think that in ordering, they had thought I was ordering for her. We had already taken a few bites, and Kait had already said how delicious hers was. Although I felt bad about it, since they had been switched around, we decided to switch them to the right way. I felt awful to be taking away the meal Kait had just bitten into and enjoyed, but there is no way I could have eaten the meat version. And Kait does it meat, plus that is how we had intended to order originally. The rice was even garnished with a a taste of wild rice! Feeling so happy to have found it, I decided to buy a small bag of wild rice even though it was about twice what it would have cost in Minnesota. When we left, my curiosity pushed me to ask the cashier if there was truly a connection with Dennis Banks. The one time that I met Mr. Banks, I told him in conversation that I would be headed to Japan--to which he responded 「日本語が話せますか。」("Do you speak Japanese?") I almost fainted! I should have realized, Mr. Banks was once married to a Japanese woman and also spent time with the navy based in Japan. At that time, Mr. Banks mentioned to me that he returns to Japan yearly. He said that while he was based here he witnessed a protest of Japanese people against a proposed American base construction which would have taken their homes and farmland. This incident had given him inspiration as well. In that conversation, I vaguely remember Mr. Banks mentioning that he even had a restaurant. I had hoped one day to find that restaurant, but had no idea I would find it that day completely by chance. I am not entirely certain what the cashier's response was because he spoke quite quickly, but he did confirm that there was a connection with Mr. Banks, and perhaps (if I understood), Mr. Banks had given the vegetables and idea of a healthy, organic menu. Based on the talk Dennis Banks gave at St. Olaf, concerning his shift to vegetables and healthy foods after serious trouble from diabetes, I believe this. As I paid for the wild rice, the cashier reached to grab what I thought would be a plastic bag. Japan puts everything in as many plastic bags as possible, and I am often arguing with cashiers not to be given one. I started to say "no, it's okay, I have a backpack!" when the cashier brought out a cloth bag with a printed image of Dennis Banks and the restaurant website. I was floored! I couldn't believe it! I was so happy and touched, Kait can confirm that I was smiley for a long time afterwards. I carried it with me as though it were treasure.
   After eating our very late lunch, it was just about 4PM. Our next goal, and primary motivation for the walk from the Imperial Palace through Harajuku was to reach Meiji-jingu. It was only a very short walk from the restaurant. When we crossed the busy street over a tall bridge to reach the shrine entrance, to our dismay the large gate was shut. People were trickling out through a small door. Unfortunately, I had not realized that the shrine closes at 4PM (or sunset, whichever is later at the time). I was sad to translate the sign on the gate. Our lunch and walk, which I had enjoyed so much, had cost a visit to the shrine. I was not too disappointed personally, but I did want Kait to see it. In retrospect, I should not have feared for Kait that day because we had already done and seen many incredible things. We had even seen the emperor! Kait asked what we should do instead, and I did not know. I am far from an expert on Tokyo, and so I did not have a quick alternative especially for so late in the day. I wanted to wait a few minutes to look up ideas, but Kait would have none of it. She said she did not want to waste time standing around. From my point of view, it was not standing around--it was necessary for me if I was going to figure something out, unless she had any suggestions. Being pushed and with the decision still left up to me, yet not having any idea whatsoever of where to go, I suggested blindly that we go see Shibuya crossing. This is the classic scene from movies featuring Tokyo--one of the busiest intersections in the city. Barely given time to route the walk, I more or less guessed a direction. Thank heavens that as we were crossing a bridge, I spied the infamous Elvis-impersonating dancers of Yoyogi park out practicing in a circle. I was curious about them myself, so I suggested that first we go take a look and then go through Yoyogi park since it is so well-known. Kait and I both enjoyed watching the dancers, and I was very happy for a chance to stroll through the beautiful park. I suppose you might compare it to Central Park in New York, although I have never been there. There are always people out practicing dancing, and especially playing instruments. Because living spaces are typically so small, and such practicing could be disruptive or require more space, many people come to the park instead. I would have liked to spend a bit more time in the park, but we decided to continue on to Shibuya crossing. Then we could simply take the train back to Asakusa afterwards from the large station. I probably did not take the most direct route to get there, but clutching my phone's map I did the best I could under pressure. It seemed we were entering the correct areas as crowds once again grew, and buildings became taller, brighter, and all-encompassing. Then quite suddenly we were there, in the same massive swarm of chaos that I remember when I first saw it. As you may be able to guess from my description, I am not fond of Shibuya crossing. It is impressive, to be sure, and a sight worth seeing, but certainly not a place I have any desire to return to. I was glad at least by how excited and impressed Kait was by the sheer number of people, and the fact that you are able to cross from any direction including diagonal. When the walk sign flashes, it really does become a free for all, and you had best know how to swim through it. By this point, after being pushed to navigate and make such quick decisions, and now in such a chaotic, packed area I was becoming overwhelmed. All I really needed was a moment to be still and collect myself. In Shibuya crossing, there is little chance of that. Kait was hoping to get a view of the crossing from up above. We tried entering a busy, tall building and going to the top. They were too savvy for us--all the windows on the higher levels were covered up to avoid tourists doing just that. However, I must say it is a real shame. We went down to the Starbucks level where there was a window to try to sneak a glimpse, but this was just as packed and we were stalked by waitresses trying to get rid of us. Finally, we headed out and descended into one of the largest subway stations in Japan to try to navigate back to Asakusa. Looking at the twisted, tangley web of trains, it took me some time to synthesize all the information. While staring at the board in front of the ticket machine and also trying to confirm with the directions on my phone (and to try to slow Kait down enough for me to think properly) a middle-aged Japanese couple spied my perpetually lost face and asked where we were trying to go. I was a little bit frustrated to be asked if I needed help, when all I actually needed was a moment to think, but I was so overwhelmed I graciously (if warily) accepted their help. I say warily because from my experience when a Japanese person tries to help you, they really try to help you. Indeed, they will go so far out of their way as to walk with you. The real issue, besides feeling like a burden and a fool, is mostly that if that person happens to be wrong or mistake where you want to go, there is no escaping or correcting them. After scurrying off to consult the map on their own, the man told us we should just take the Ginza line to Asakusa station, a more or less straight shot. After he pointed this out, I realized also how simple a ride that would be. Simpler, in fact, than the train we had been using before. Thanking them for their help, we bought our tickets, managed to find the train, and got back to Asakusa. I wanted to have one more look through Kaminari-mon since I hadn't really been given a chance before. So we strolled through here, then headed back to the hostel. I would have really liked to eat dinner someplace to utilize the opportunity for another Japanese meal to show Kait, but she said she preferred just to go back since she was tired and we had eaten a late lunch. We still had some treats from the bakery in our bag, and she said she would rather just eat that. I was a little disappointed, because I love Japanese food so much. But after such an overwhelming end to the day, I conceded and we headed back to our boxes. It was still very early in the evening when we got back, but I used the time to relax, read a bit, and try to plan for the next day. The croissant that I ate for a snack was absolutely delicious. The plan for tomorrow, if I could manage to get us there, was to witness what is known as a Diamond Fuji. This happens only during Christmas time--it is when the sun is aligned just right to set directly behind Mt. Fuji and can be seen from the neighboring Mt. Touzan. It would be pushing my navigation abilities to get us there, as it was outside of Tokyo itself, but I could think of no more classic sight in Japan than Mt. Fuji.

This morning I checked out of the hotel that has become so familiar to me in Tokyo. I was a little sad especially because I did not get to eat breakfast one last time there. The breakfasts at the Hotel Asia Center are a buffet of rice, miso, nori, various rice toppings, eggs, yogurt, fruit, bread, etc. Very tasty.  But it opens at 7AM, which did not give me enough time. I woke up at 6:30AM, and I took a taxi at 7:15AM from the hotel. The taxi driver was very nice, and also extremely attentive to make sure I was headed to the correct place. I wasn't 100% percent sure if I needed terminal 1 or terminal 2. Based on my instructions from Ms. Ito at Fulbright, I chose terminal 2.  I spoke with the driver a little bit on the ride. He asked where I was from, and he also knew of the Twins and the Timberwolves when I said Minnesota. We talked a little about baseball. He mentioned that he wants to travel to the United States in the next few years. I hope that he can. Since he was so kind, I gave him one of my 'meishi' (business cards) and said that someday if he visits Minnesota, my family and I could help show him the city. I was able to navigate through the airport successfully, I checked in, checked my luggage, went through security and arrived at Gate 55 for Sapporo. Japanese airports so far, despite being busy, seem less stressful to me than those in the U.S. Probably because the security measures here in Japan aren't so ridiculous. I enjoyed Haneda airport. From the windows at my gate I realized all of a sudden that I was looking out onto the ocean. There were large Japanese barges out at sea. My flight was at 10:15AM. The plane was not nearly as good-looking as the ANA international flight, even though this flight was also ANA. All in all, the flight was rather bumpy and there was quite a bit of turbulence and jostling preparing to land. In fact, it even made me a bit nervous!

Based on emails, Ogura-san (a graduate student at Hokudai and my student "supporter") had arranged to meet me at the airport. I retrieved my luggage and exited the gate glancing around for him. We found each other fortunately! I probably stick out quite a bit, though, so even though he had never met me I'm sure it was easy to spot me. Another graduate student from Hokudai drove a car there. We stopped for lunch at a tempura restaurant and I got to eat my first 100% safe vegetarian meal. Ahh, that was wonderful. At all of the other restaurants, there has been meat thrown in, or in the broth of foods, etc. I know that it is absolutely possible for me to be a vegetarian here if I am choosing the places to eat--the difficulty is going out to eat with others since I want to accommodate the majority and I don't want to make anyone feel bad or to be a burden on others. Eating yasai tempura (vegetable tempura) over rice was such a welcome relief. And so delicious. From there we walked to their car, and began the drive from Chitose airport to Sapporo. It took about an hour. It was fun to attempt to converse (my Japanese is rusty), try to explain my history distinction paper in Japanese, and to discuss differences between the U.S. and Japan that I have observed so far. They are both extremely nice.

As we entered the city limits of Sapporo, I found myself truly surprised at the contrast between Tokyo. In Tokyo, there are lights and buildings in every possible space. There are little shops crammed every which way, and polished business buildings. Not only that, everything appears crisp, and clean. Sapporo seems to have more of a "run down" feel, and also a similar feel to Minneapolis. I think it may be the effect of harsh winter, or snow. There are many tall apartment buildings but most look worn. Of course, I haven't seen the whole city yet. I definitely find myself missing just how many places I could go to in Tokyo, and all of the possibilities to spot a shrine here, or an imperial residence there. As a lover of history, I do miss these old places. Sapporo has nothing like that architecturally, because it only started to grow in the late 1800s as the Japanese moved north into Hokkaido, into the home of the indigenous Ainu people. If I haven't told you about this history, I can guarantee I will tell you about it later in better detail.

When we pulled up at the International Student House and the dorm complexes, I as also surprised. Based on the pictures, I was expected something completely different. I was expecting things to be more. . . neat and tidy. The dormitories definitely appear worn from the outside. The entrance and little lounge also seems worn. Ogura-san and Sakuma-san helped me to sign papers and with perfect timing the takkyubin arrived to deliver my heavy suitcases! I am very impressed by this. The graduate students helped me to get everything to my room, and the landlord showed me some of the (many) rules of the dorm as well as light switches, etc. Understanding how everything works is going to be tough at first! My room is just slightly smaller than at the hotel. To be precise, is is 12.9 sq meters. In other words, small. I will take a picture soon, but needless to say I could (were I ambitious enough to attempt it) open my fridge, type on the computer, and possibly cook on the single burner stove without moving. The view from my window is not great either. It looks down on a culdesack-like street, and the old dorms across from it. From my window I can see a number of tall apartment buildings with balconies. These seem veeeerrry tempting. I may look into their prices, although the hassle of moving may outweigh the minimal increase in space. However, the rather strict rules of the dormitory may outweigh the extremely cheap price as well. I believe it will only cost about 300yen a month, which is really cheap and could save me some money for traveling. Ah, decisions. I will wait to see what Becca's opinion is. She has lived in Sapporo before, so she will have more advice than I do. I may have also signed my life away in a contract, so that might make my decision for me!

After I unpacked (everything made it here safely, with nothing broken!!! I am so pleased!) I met Ogura-san at 6PM to go see the lab. He introduced me to a whole group of graduate students in the same lab. They all have desks in a room at the lab. And I was very surprised to learn that I have a desk too! It seems that I was able to impress everyone with my Japanese, but truly I have a lot of work to do on my speaking abilities despite what they may think. They were all very kind and I was happy to get to met them and speak with them. The only intimidating aspect is that they are virtually all men, and that will take some getting used to. I am far more comfortable interacting with other women. However, they were all extremely welcoming. I joined them for dinner in the university shokudou. They have agedashi tofu there, which I love, and a variety of selections. I enjoyed my dinner with them, and did my best to speak. I think that many of them are speaking much quicker than I am able to handle, not purposely but just because they are actually over-estimating my abilities. It is frustrating for me when I want to respond intelligently but can't get the right sentence together, or lack the vocabulary. Even worse is when I miss a whole chunk of conversation. I'll have to fix that! But I think that my Japanese will improve a lot over the year from this! I hope that I will get to know them better! Tomorrow I get to meet Professor Koike, and I am definitely excited, although of course a little nervous. I hope that he can help to find a good use for me here!

On Thursday we finished up the main part of the Fulbright orientation. Remembering back, I believe that evening afterwards we went to an "izakaya" in Roppongi (part of Tokyo). I ordered one of my favorite meals, called astuage. It is similar to fried tofu. Izakaya seem to be frequented most often by "sararimen", that is "business men," much like a small bar. It was interesting, to be sure. Afterwards, some of the others went to do karaoke. I'm not really a fan of karaoke, but I was also feeling a little overwhelmed by being in such a big city so I walked back to the hotel after dinner. I am rather proud of myself for getting home on my own. That was my very first time navigating independently here in Japan, even if it was only a short distance.

On Friday morning we had our individual meetings with Fulbright staff. I was happy to get to sit down and chat with Ms. Ito, who is my Fulbright "tantousha", meaning the one who is responsible for my Fulbright communications. I brought her a little chocolate bar, because unfortunately all of my omiyage (gifts) are packed in my big bags. I will send something more to her later. The day before, myself and Becca ordered "hanko" from a little shop near the Fulbright office. "Hanko" are seals used as a form of signature. They were ready to pick up that day. I am very happy with mine, although we found a kanji character that fits well with the pronunciation of my last name so for my official stamp/seal I may use that. The kanji is 鵙（もず/"mozu"）and means Shrike, which is a type of bird. That evening, we went out to dinner at a kaitenzushi restaurant. This means that the little sushi plates are sent around a long table on a conveyor belt, and you take what you would like. This was delicious. The other Fulbrighters, who knew much more about sushi than I, helped me to pick out vegetarian suggestions. I tried three different types, and they were all delicious, called "kampyo" (pickled squash), "inari sushi", and I think cucumber sushi. One type had quite a bit of wasabi in it, but I really enjoy wasabi so it was great. I liked them all, but the inari sushi was my favorite. It is a tofu pouch filled with rice. I was so glad that everyone was so happy to help me find sushi to eat, and I think that was my favorite meal in Tokyo. After sushi, we went to eat desserts. I better start running more miles once I get to Sapporo so I will be more hungry to eat so many scrumptious things.  Earlier that day, I went running in the same place as before. It is called the "Akasaka Imperial Resident", which must be a home owned by the imperial family. There are beautiful walls and gardens around it, as well. It takes only about 16 minutes to run around it. In fact, I was passed by a very fast pack of young men, which very much startled me. I have noticed that it is mostly men running at least at that path. I did see one other woman running, though. I like to run fast, and so it does make me a little self-conscious to pass people. I marked our hotel on a map with a red "x" and the path I ran too.

Over these past days, the other Fulbrighters have been departing one by one. I am the last one left in Tokyo, and I will fly to Sapporo in the morning. On Saturday, many of us went our separate ways. After our last breakfast with at least 6 of us, a remaining 4 of us went to Akihabara. This is a very popular toy and electronics district. There were so many interesting shops. We got tofu doughnuts, icecream cones, and went to see all the floors of a tall building, with tiny toy shops all the way up. Afterwards, the last three of us departed in different directions on the trains, and I returned to the hotel all by myself! I was so nervous to have to navigate the subway back to Tokyo and the hotel, but I did it just fine! This was a big accomplishment for me, and definitely boosted my confidence. I think that part of my initial stress over the subways was first of all that they are so crowded, and second of all I was always trying to keep together with a large group throughout all the subway transfers, escalators, and exits. Being on my own, there was much less stress than trying to stay with a group. I could stop and look at signs and direct myself more calmly. Veronica, one of the Fulbrighters, helped to encourage me a lot earlier that day when I was anxious about going by myself. It was so kind of her. Our group has nicknamed ourselves the "Fellowship" (just like the Fellowship of the Rings) sine there are nine of us, and there were nine in the Lord of the Rings. Also, we are all on an adventure. It works perfectly. Anyways, Veronica has been dubbed Legolas and I've been dubbed Gimli, so I hope we become good friends! I don't know how fitting my personality is to Gimli's, although it may be more similar than I realize, but I have always admired his character--except for the cutting down trees business!

After I arrived safely back at the hotel, it was around 5PM and so I went for a short run again. The weather was pleasantly cool, which I've heard is a treat by Tokyo weather standards. Later that night I was able to Skype with my family for the first time since I left home. I was very happy to hear from them, and they were all relieved. On Sunday, I was the only Fulbrighter left in Tokyo. When I woke up it was raining. Veronica recommended to me that I go see Meiji Jingu Shrine, which is actually very near to the hotel. By the way, Harajuku is just outside of Meiji Jingu-mae station, and I was hoping to stroll through. However, because of the rain, not many people were out in the crazy outfits associated with Harajuku. I was apprehensive about the subway trip, but after my success the evening before, I gave it a try. It worked out great! Unfortunately, because of the rain, I got all wet even with an umbrella and I didn't stay long because there was water dripping everywhere. However, I washed my hands and mouth at the "temizuya" (handwashing basin) before entering, then I tossed a coin in as an offering once inside the shrine. I tried to follow what others were doing, and to act respectfully. After tossing a coin, I clapped twice, bowed (thinking of a prayer), clapped twice, and bowed a few more times for good measure. Maybe next time I will know more of what to do. I also placed a prayer in an offeratory box, then bought an Ema (wooden prayer plaque) to write on and hang at the tree. I bought an Omamori (charm) for healthy mind and body. Even though I wish it had not been raining so that it would have been easier to look around, I am very glad that I went. The places in Tokyo that I enjoy so far are those with a long history, which are calm, and are meaningful. The hustle and bustle and stores can be enjoyable for a time, but I would much rather visit the shrines or old buildings with a much longer story.

I returned to the hotel afterwards to dry off. It rained almost all day, until the sun set. At 3PM, I embarked again to meet my friend Ryo from Mori no Ike (Concordia Japanese Language Village) where we had worked as counselors. I met him in a place called Takadanobaba, near Waseda University. I am especially proud of myself for navigating there all on my own. We ate at a small ramen shop, wandered around some interesting stores, bought macha flavored kit-kats, and then eventually headed to a matsuri that was going on outside of town. This was especially fun. I have never seen a matsuri (festival) before. There was a traditional theater play going on at a stage, and many low tents with delicious looking foods. There were also many kids running around playing festival games, and trying to catch little goldfish or win small prizes. I was surprised, because it gave me a similar feeling as a powwow. I definitely felt like a foreigner, however. I could catch many people talking about me in Japanese, or pointing me out as a "ryugakusei" (study abroad student). I was also much taller than most people there, so I stood out. All in all, I was very happy to get to see my friend, and I hope that he had fun too. He is very sweet, and I hope that he enjoys his time in Japan this year, and that I may visit him again. I can be rather shy and quiet, and so I hope that I was not too boring! I certainly enjoyed the evening.

In the morning, I head to Haneda airport and then fly to Sapporo. I am somewhat sad now to leave Tokyo, even though if you had asked me a few days ago, I couldn't wait to leave Tokyo because of how busy it is. Now that I have the confidence to navigate, and now that I know the layout of the city, there are many more things I would like to see. Heading to Sapporo means that I will have to re-learn a whole new place. However, at the same time I would like to be able to settle into a place to live, to meet the Professor Koike, who I will be working with, and to be in a calmer setting. Well, Part 2 of the adventure begins tomorrow!

On Monday (9/17) I departed from the MSP airport for a flight at 6AM to Chicago. Since I haven't had time to write much, be prepared for a looooong story! The Fri/Sat/Sun leading up to the 17th I spent packing, and packing and packing. Since I've never left the U.S. before, and since I've never traveled away from Minnesota for more than a few days, deciding what I should bring was very difficult. Time will tell if I packed wisely! That last weekend was very sad for me, because I am close to my family and have never been separated from them for long--even during college. Going to St. Olaf, which is such a short trip from Minneapolis, I was able to see my family frequently. So far what I miss the most is giving my little brother a hug.

The night before my flight I had hoped to finish packing before sunset so that I could have a peaceful last evening. Of course, that did not happen. I ended up staying up to pack until about 1AM, only to have to wake up shortly after 3AM to drive to the airport. To top it off, my flight from MSP to O'hare had apparently been canceled at some point, but I was not notified. It was only some great stroke of luck that I happened to call United Airlines that evening to check that my name was spelled correctly on the ticket. When I called--about 5 hours before my flight--the lady who answered told me that the flight was canceled due to maintenance! Gratefully, she put me on the only other flight early enough to make it to my Tokyo flight, which left at 6AM instead of the anticipated 6:45AM. When we left the house, it was dark, and rainy. I said goodbye to my little brother and let him fall back asleep--he had a bad cold to boot. Then At the MSP airport, figuring out baggage was somewhat confusing. I packed two big, heavy bags and one medium bag, plus my carry-on. Fortunately, the Fulbright program provides a luggage allowance, so even thought it was rather expensive to check all of my luggage, I am very lucky because of the generosity of Fulbright. Waiting in line through security I could still see my family sitting outside of the line, and I waved to them many times before I finally crossed to the other side. Needless to say, I was very nervous. But I made it to my gate on time, checked in, and eventually boarded the plane. Taking off, it was still dark and so I could only see the lights of Minneapolis and vaguely see the streets. I was very aware that it would be my last time seeing my home-city, my favorite place in the world. I love Minnesota so much, I will admit that I was sad to say goodbye for so long. I was also sad to leave my family. Even though I am so grateful to be a part of Fulbright, there was a part of me that kept telling me to turn around and to go home, and telling me "it's too long, it will be too hard, it's too much!"

I arrived in Chicago with plenty of time before my flight to Narita, which left at 10:45AM. Mostly I wandered around and sat at the gate. Shortly before boarding, I received a text from Becca, who is a Fulbright Fellow as well, and who will also be researching at Hokkaido University!--and got to meet her in person since we were both flying out of Chicago. I'm so happy that she was there, and for all of the help she's given me. Absolutely every step of the process of flying, of leaving the country, etc. is new to me. The plane itself was huge, with three separate rows, and many different sections. I was seated in the back of the plane, but glad to have a window seat. As we took off from Chicago, and as I felt the wheels of the plane leave the runway, it truly hurt to be disconnected from the earth that has always been my home. During the flight I slept on and off probably for the first 8 hours. Unfortunately, the flight attendants asked that all the windows be closed in order to let people sleep, otherwise I would have been glued to the landscape below. Every once and a while I would open the window a crack, and since we flew north towards the pole to get to Japan, at one point I looked down to see huge mountains in what must have been Alaska! That was spectacular! I also got a glimpse of the ocean after that!

I made sure to sleep only until what would have been morning in Japan. Then I stayed up, tried to study Japanese, or just stared ahead of me thinking! For a 14 hour flight, however, it was not bad! On the plane, two meals were served and both were Japanese style. All the flight attendants were Japanese as well, and spoke in both English and Japanese. The meals were very good! Even though I was flying Economy, the meals were large and tasted good, and refreshments were served all the time. Both meals were even served hot! The first was soba, fruit, rice, juice, and icecream. Then for breakfast/lunch there were cheese omelettes and yogurt! I was so surprised!

When we arrived in Narita, Becca was very nice to wait for me. Then we went through customs--I had to fill out a declaration and embarkment form, which was interesting. We actually waited in the wrong line for a while, until we finally got to the front and we told that we should have been in the line next to us (for people staying over 3 months). I received my residency card (if that's what it's called?), managed to meet two more Fulbrighters in the line, picked up all of my luggage with a cart (it all arrived safely!!), then went to Takkyubin with Becca. Takkyubin is a shipping service, which delivers your bags to your address. Becca and I have shipped ours to our dorms in Sapporo. It only cost about $70 total to send them all that way! That way, I did not have to lug my heavy bags around Tokyo! It was so convenient--I just hope they arrive safely to Sapporo.

From there, I took a bus into Tokyo with fellow Fulbrighters, then a taxi to the Hotel Asia Center where our reservation was. I dropped off my bags, and then Becca and Jim (another Fulbrighter) went to a small curry restaurant near the hotel to eat. Finally, I got back to my room (which is VERY tiny), settled in, showered, and fell asleep. So far, no jet lag either!

The next morning (Wednesday morning, since I lost a day flying to Japan because of the time difference) the Fulbright orientation started at 10AM. The orientation is held at the JUSEC/Fulbright office, and so we had to take a subway to get there. Tokyo lines are busy, confusing, and tangled. Thank goodness there is a group of other Fulbrighters here, so I could follow there lead. I would definitely not have navigated my way to the orientation alone, at least not on time. I will write more about the orientation later, but suffice to say I have gotten to meet all of the Fellows, they are all nice and definitely unique individuals. I am excited to get to know them. It is admittedly extremely intimidating, however, that ALL of them have been to Japan multiple times, meanwhile I have never even left the U.S. Things that are common knowledge to someone who has traveled to Japan before are brand new to me, and because everyone has traveled before, I've had to follow along rather blindly. I feel embarrassed needing to ask for help constantly--and I often have to ask things which are obvious to them, but utterly confusing to me. Because of that, it has been a little nerve racking. Fortunately, Becca has been very helpful, and well as many other Fulbrighters. I am so grateful!

After the orientation, we were given our first stipends and cashed the checks! Wow, I've never seen so much money at once!!! But I have to keep it safe, and budget things wisely as it is meant to last the next two months. The orientation for that day ended around 3PM, and then--this was the best part of the day--I got to go for a run with another Fulbrighter in Tokyo! We ran around the outside of some sort of park, with large walls around it. My legs had been hurting from sitting around so many hours over the past day, running was a HUGE relief. I spoke nostalgically about track (the best sport in the world) with her. In the evening, we attended a Fulbright dinner party at the house of the U.S. Ambassador. Everyone was dressed up, and the house was beautiful (though VERY hard to find). I spoke with a number of people and exchanged business cards. It felt far too prestigious for a little person like myself! Almost as if it were straight from a movie! Afterwards, we went into Shibuya to a bar/pub for 'Nomikai' (a drinking get-together to "break the ice"). This was something I was very apprehensive about--I do not drink, and drinking is a HUUUUUUUGE thing in Japan. So dealing with that throughout the year will be somewhat frustrating, I imagine. In any case, it was interesting to see the bustle of Shibuya, the big TV screens (think time square) and shops. However, I was always scared I would get lost or separated and I'm still scared of the subway system. Another Fulbrighter named Veronica was extremely kind to me, and that made the experience less frightening. I am so happy for her help!

After that we made it back to the hotel. Tomorrow we have the "nuts and bolts" session of the Fulbright. Hopefully I will learn more about things I am particularly nervous about, such as finding a cellphone and opening a bank account.

Here are a couple pictures--one of the view from my room and one of me shortly after taking off on the flight to Narita and also my teeny tiny hotel room. Since my connector for my camera to laptop is packed away in my bags that are being shipped, I only have my Ipod for photos at the moment.