Sunday, November 6^th

Today Osaka battled taifun-like showers as the red and yellow leaves fought one another to stay on the trees only to tumble down to kiss the cold, wet pavement. Osaka University celebrated its 46th annual Machikane Festival, a tradition that brings our clubs, performers and cooks out into the elements to celebrate the mountain that shadows over our college. As I sat in the dank library composing my thoughts amidst its aging, musty books I could hear the shouts of my friends outside cheering on bands and performers almost as if the sound of their shrill voices would warm the air.

Reflecting over the past eight days bring a vivid smile to my face as I embrace the memories that are already life-long and the friendships that seem as though they will last a lifetime.

Tuesday, October 25^th: Kristin goes to prison!

My adventures began last Tuesday when I ventured to Eastern Kobe to start my work as an English teacher to the staff at Nishiakashi Prison. With my complete lack of knowledge in teaching English and the butterflies that pitter-pattered in my stomach I felt as though I might faint as I walked up to the high-security prison only after an hour and a half train and bus ride to the compound. Luckily the prison was nothing as I had imagined with its Spanish-style architecture and brick road. I felt like Don Quixote riding up to meet imaginary evils as the prison staff greeted me with, “I speak English Ms. Teacher,” and smiles from ear to ear. Of course in a white-collar prison the atmosphere is somewhat-less execrable than I had imagined, but when you look in to a room and immediately the door is slammed in your face with grim eyes, one knows they have entered an entirely new world.

Of course, I was also taken aback as I learned that I was neither the first English teacher, nor in an all-female environment as I had been led to believe. Sitting in a room full of men with muscles so large they could be mistaken for karate masters and admitting that this was my first time teaching English was more intimidating than taking on a 400-pound sumo wrestler in a crowded arena. All eyes watching Kristin sensei, we began to realize that rather than a class full of beginners, as my piebald students ranged from near-fluent English speakers to those who couldn’t introduce themselves. I realized I was pedogically-impaired when my lesson on introductions and Halloween was thwarted to try and catch each mosquito in the room with a loud, “smack” of the prison guards’ hands. Hands so large that they could crush a man in one fell swoop, so who was I to argue…at least they learned the word “mosquito” in English?

In the least, I now know the ins and outs of the prison in case a riot breaks out or I need to flee for my immediate sanity. While this opportunity left me completely bereft of hope and energy on the train ride back to Osaka, I now know that this is going to be a wonderful learning experience for me and in the least a rare opportunity to see the inside of a system so often kept out of the public eye.

Friday-Saturday, October 28th-29th

Thankfully, after recovering from my trip to prison (how fun is it to be able to say that?), two of my fellow Fulbright Kansai colleagues accompanied me on a weekend trip to the metropolis of Tokyo for a reception to honor the late Senator William J. Fulbright. Without him and his wonderful wife, I would not be here today, so the three of us knew it was a wonderful opportunity to graciously say thank you, meet other alumni and see all the sights that make up this fantastic city.

Rather than spend hundreds of dollars on a shinkanesen (bullet train) ticket, the three of us took the adventurous rout and began our journey with the yako bus, which departs at 11 pm from Kyoto and lands in Tokyo’s happening Shinjuku at 5:30 in the morning. Sadly, it sounded better in theory because with cramped quarters, sauna-like heat and not nearly enough time to catch up with one another before we departed, we were actually threatened to be kicked off the bus. We of course did not know this at the time until our nearly fluent friend Kenny informed Kavitha and I that our hysterics were not nearly as funny to the rest of the bus as they were to ourselves, but hey, it’s all a state of mind right?

Luckily, for a few hundred yen, we scored tickets to an indoor onsen, where one is able to luxuriously bask in saunas, steam rooms, cold baths and hot tubs…the perfect end to a night of fitful rest. Feeling refreshed Kavitha and I headed to view the Diet, Japan’s national law-making body, the Imperial Palace, Imperial Gardens, Tokyo Fountain Plaza and what is a trip to the center of Tokyo without a stop at Ginza where my cohort in crime and I gave in to our Tiffany & Co. desires and had fun oohing and aahing at the shiny items protected from us behind the glass.

As Kavitha and I dolled up for the reception that night in our shoebox of a room, we realized that our room peered directly in to the 7^th floor of an office building, complete with cute young salary-men. Considering it was a Saturday night and there were two lovely ladies next door several of these white-shirted gentleman thought it would be hilarious to sit at their desks and oogle at the foreign women putting on make-up. Likewise, we found it just as funny and laughed and waved at each other through the thick-paned glass that separated our all-too alternate universes.

Hair curled and nails painted, we all left for the reception with a nervous anticipation that accompanies a gathering that can make or break one’s research opportunities. With our meishi (business cards) in tow we listened to Mrs. Fulbright, a fabulous, beautiful woman describe the life of her late husband who founded the program which brought us to the country and hob-knobbed until the wee hours of the night and the lights were turned off on us. Aside from balancing wine and trading meishi, the three fellows and I were surprised to hear our names as all of the 2005 grantees were called to the stage to give an introduction which every single other researcher had known about. But of course, with flare and guile reminiscent of Elizabeth Taylor, we proudly spoke about our projects and I in my night of no sleep and one drink of wine with no dinner somehow yammered on about how lucky I was to be here…and how lucky I felt to be in the presence of such fine people…and finally how lucky I was to be here. Oh yes, beget the gorgeous outfit I’d poured over, I’d just made a fool out of myself in front of the bi-national commission and diplomats.

All is well that ends well I realized as I met a nice young researcher who happened to be researching a similar form of human rights. Michael informed me of his interest in foreign workers and my ears immediately perked up because my wonderful mentor and advisor at my alma mater, St. Olaf, had studied just that years earlier. When I asked if he knew of my professor he not only knew of her, but had met her and loved her work. What a small world, when you can travel 7,000 miles away from home only to discuss those you left!

To celebrate our evening of successful schmoozing we decided to celebrate Halloween in Roppongi, a popular hot spot where all young people gather in the wee hours of the night. Sadly, after our yako bus traversing the day before, these foreigners did not make it the whole night and wound up out our hotel thankful for a bed and happy to have friends by our side.

Sunday, October 30^th

When you are twenty-three years old and the first thought that enters your mind when you wake-up in the morning is what part of you aches the most, you realize that yes, you really are old. When you have to put an entire tube of concealer under your eyes to not look like Frankenstein’s wife…that’s when you look old, however. And Sunday I did so without regret as my friends and I ventured around Tokyo.

After a 2 hour lecture in Japanese that nearly killed me due to the fact that a) it was in Japanese and b) it was in Japanese, I ravaged the streets of Ginza to find a fantastic Indian restaurant with my accompanying friends. Feeling refreshed and up for adventure we embarked on a journey to the famed Harajuku, where teenagers dress in make-up and gothic-inspired gear that would even make Elvira cringe. Amongst J-Crew stores and Gap look-alikes these teens proudly wore their anti-establishment colors, and Kenny and Kavitha and I were excited that we could take part in a crowd of thousands of Japan’s teenagers and the only place in Tokyo where they feel free to be themselves.

Next stop: Shinjuku, where the lights rival Times Square and the pedestrians often win fights over cars. At each stop-light, thousands of people migrate in a multi-directional nightmare that could leave one dizzy if not for the hundreds of television screens pitching new movies, the latest music and hilarious animation that we have come to know from Japan.

We ended our night once again in Ginza at an Irish pub and were once again thankful to be able to share liquor and stories. Even though I had only slept several hours over the past few days, being able to experience new sights and sounds with friends is something that will always make me feel young, whether 23 or 83, and I cherished every moment of our night together.

Monday, October 31: All Saints and Sinners

As thousands of children donned costumes and masks in America to celebrate All Saints Day, or Halloween as we know it, miles away I found myself in the middle of one of the most fantastic shrines in all of Japan: Meiji Jingu. While most torii, or gates that majestically herald the entrances of Japanese shrines with bright orange lacquer, Meiji Jingu’s bare wood and mild ornamentation made my experience at this shrine all the more significant. With chrysanthemums the size of our heads lining our the gravel path and the fall colors changing almost before our eyes, I realized I had found my most treasured place in Japan. It is one of the moments in time where you simply stop, close your eyes, breathe in the quiet, forgetting all your indiscretions as the air thick with the pungent smell of bamboo and cypress seeps in and makes way for the faint sound of the stream trickle over your body until you are at complete relaxation with the world.

The only place in Japan that could be the mirror opposite would have to be the national Diet, where Japan’s laws are consecrated and which buzzes with bureaucrats and red tape to boot. After trying and failing several attempts, my fellow future law school colleague and I snagged our way on a tour on the grand building. Ironically, the Diet is not even a century old due to fires and the fact that this fine nation’s power was restored to the emperor as late as 1868, so to leave a place where millennia of spiritual follower had trespassed to a building that was so new and obviously foreign in design (Prussian-inspired) was quite a shock.

Luckily however, my friend Kavitha and I were in good company, as we were led on a bilingual tour at the behest of a dozen American state and local legislators who just so happened to desire a tour of the Diet at the same time. In the middle of learning how the emperor is the only one who may enter the grand staircase and that the building was painted black during World War II, were met San Jose lawyers and Kentucky senators who were pleased as punch to see two fine young ladies studying politics in Japan. We all giggled at what a coincidence it was and I was sad to part ways with our fraternizing friends as our insightful tour ended, complete with iconic photo in front of the building.