24 Hours in Taipei

En route to the USA, we arranged a brief stopover in Taipei, Taiwan. It was hot, humid, and we blew threw like a hurricane. 24 hours to see everything we could! Armed with 2 phrases in Mandarin (hello and thank you), a few yen to spend, and our smiles, we were able to cover much of the city. People were extremely helpful and public transportation was a breeze. Compared with traveling in NYC, Taipei was an absolute pleasure! I was hoping that during our time in Asia we would have a chance to visit China to learn about how the world is changing in the twenty-first century. Although we didn't have time for China, I am so grateful for the quick trip to the semi-democratic island of Taiwan.

Like Thailand, the markets in Taipei were incredible. I was amazed to see a beautiful selection of fresh tropical fruits and vegetables, so CHEAP compared to what is available in Japanese grocery stores!

Like many outdoor markets all over the world, you can buy anything there. Beans. Vegetables. Clothes. Chicken with their feet still on. Here you see a shop selling fresh seafood (some still alive) near a shop selling ladies undergarments.


Next stop was Taiwan Democracy Memorial Hall, built in the early 20th Century. Spectacular.

Inside was an impressive museum display of China's war history in the past 100 years.
Interesting (and truthful) commentary on Japan and China. (Click on the picture to enlarge the image for reading.)

And really pretty traditional puppets!


Next we visited Longshan Temple, an essential tourist stop and religious pilgrimage site. There appeared to be surprisingly few tourists and many people there to pray.






And last, the famous Night Market! Delightful, if you don't mind chaos. I was hoping that clothes "Made in Taiwan" would be inexpensive, but they were about the same price as in the US. That didn't stop me from shopping. It was the first time in a year that I could shop for clothes that fit me!


Lessons learned: Go to Taipei. Don't fly China Airlines. Get a hostel NEAR public transportation. Eat, shop, enjoy!

Saying Goodbye, and a Bellybutton Festival

July was full of beautiful weather, engagement parties, birthday parties, goodbye parties, and lots of cake.


On my last day of class at Furebetsu JHS, we cooked! I lead the students in making American-style potato salad, which with mustard and relish is much more flavorful than Japanese-style mayonnaise potato salad. And then we made salsa (tomatoes, green chilies, pickled jalapeno, onion, black olives, onion, salt, lime). I gave them firm instructions to avoid touching their eyes after chopping peppers; everyone but me followed directions. Ouch! Yet all had a good time.

Furebetsu was one of the farthest schools (about 30 minutes) but the drive was always striking. This is Mt. Furano, originally named "Furanui" by the Ainu natives.


At Rokugo JHS, the teacher organized a taste-testing party for my last day. She prepared various Japanese foods and the students had to guess what would be my "favorite" and "least favorite". Not sure what you're seeing? Fresh wakame seaweed, pickled plum called umeboshi, disgusting konyakku, pickled daikon radish, and pickled cucumber. The kids knew me well enough to guess that #1 would be ume!

After my taste-testing, I gave the kids crackers and several American condiments to sample: BBQ sauces, Miracle Whip, Taco Bell sauces, yellow mustard, pickle relish, etc. Most Japanese people don't like spicy food, but the mild taco sauce was a favorite.


We traveled with some fellow JET teachers over a long weekend in July. This is our tearful goodbye: I miss you!!!


My Board of Education threw me a "retirement" party. They called it "retirement" because in Japan it is very rare to leave or change jobs, ever. When announcing that I would stay "only" one year in Japan, I met some shock/resistance from coworkers until I learned to describe my reason for leaving that my fiance is beginning law school. 1) In Japan, most women leave their jobs immediately after marriage in order to become wives. They probably assume that after my upcoming marriage I will stop working. 2) Lawyers are very highly respected, and Japan is a strictly hierarchical society. So my revised answer received hearty congratulations.
Although it was a very difficult year and I don't have much gratitude for some of the people in my BOE, with plenty of alcohol we were able to have a nice time at the goodbye party. But, still assuming my foreign barbarity, my racist boss did ask whether I was able to use chopsticks. After one year living in the country! Grrr.

Dinner was required attendance for all BOE employees. Nijikai, literally, "second time", is the word for the second party after the dinner. What else? Karaoke. My generous shy supervisor, Nishio-san, is always shockingly theatrical in karaoke. Our friend/colleague Iri is a reliably gregarious addition to any party.


On the day of my birthday Nick and I scheduled nothing and planned a special picnic on the Sorachi River behind our home. He set out a lovely meal of imported foods.


My coworker Hayden planned a "surprise" party for me with over 20 friends in attendance. We were given a generous assortment of gifts and Hayden brought a lovely cake. I probably had 5 cakes in one month!


In the last two days we were in town, the city threw its annual Bellybutton Festival. Furano is in the center of Hokkaido, thus called the "navel" of the island. Women and children dress in summer yukatas. Men dress in silly costumes and paint their chests. Then everyone in town forms groups and dances in a parade. Tourists come from all over the country and Asia to see the festival every year.

Takahashi-san and some other employees of City Hall posed prior to the parade.

I danced with the ladies in my Ikebana club, most of whom work in City Hall.


The next morning, exhausted and blistered from dancing in zori, we loaded up our many heavy suitcases to meet our 8AM bus out of town. Many friends and colleagues met us for a final, tearful, sayonara. My time in Furano was very difficult, but most of my struggles were not the fault of anything but misfortune and cultural misunderstanding. I left Japan gladly, as there are several key aspects of Japanese culture which are incompatible with my personality. However, I have deep respect and love for many people I met in my year in Japan. And wonder for the striking beauty of Hokkaido landscape. Arigatou gozaimashita! Ja mata!

An Anniversary: V-J Day

On August 14, 1945, Japan surrendered to the Allied Powers and ended World War II.


This week I visited the beautiful capital of Minnesota in Saint Paul and came upon a rather remarkable monument to WWII. A few veterans joined me in reading the placards. It felt surreal to be 'home' and, seeking to learn more about my new state, the first thing I came upon was the WWII memorial. Unintentional, but probably not a coincidence.

Today I read the New York Times article published on that day, and noticed this remarkable quote:

"If the note had not come today the President was ready though reluctant to give the order that would have spread throughout Japan the hideous death and destruction that are the toll of the atomic bomb."

What?! After visiting Hiroshima a few months ago, and living in Japan for the last year, I am struck by this (unqualified) statement and wonder at its validity. And sanity.


Back in peaceful Saint Paul, Minnesota, I am so grateful to be home. I am grateful for safety and privilege and familiarity. I think about the challenges I faced as an American in Japan; the struggles of the people of Georgia and Sudan and Iraq and Afghanistan; even the struggle between Clintonistas and Obama. And I know that after a year spent in deep reflection about WAR and the peacemaking necessary afterwards, I just need a break. So today I rest, knowing that there is so much work to be done.

Brief Update

We are on the move! Furano (sad goodbyes, dancing in a parade) ---> Taipei (friendly people, tropical heat) ---> Omaha (welcome home/ engagement/ birthday party) ---> Saint Paul! It's a busy week, full of love.

From the "International Council of Unitarians and Universalists"

Dear U*U Friends around the world,

I have just learned of a terrible incident in the United States that touches our UU family. A single gunman went into the Tennessee Valley UU* Congregation in Knoxville, Tennessee and opened fire. The man was not known at the church. Details are still unclear, but it appears that at least one person is dead and several others wounded.

On behalf of the ICUU, I have sent the following message to the Tennessee Valley Congregation, to UUA President Bill Sinkford and UUA Moderator Gini Courter:
Dear Fellow UU's

On behalf of the Executive and all the national groups represented at the International Council of Unitarians and Universalists, I am writing to offer my deepest condolences in the wake of the Tennessee Valley tragedy.

We are shocked an outraged at the violence and violation committed in the sanctity of your church home, a place meant to be a safe haven. More importantly, we are deeply saddened by the loss of life, and the physical and emotional injury this terrible act has brought into your community.

We pray for you and with you in this time of trial. We pray that you will find the strength necessary to survive and rise above this crisis. We hope that your community is able to come together and be the source of strength it has always been for you and that this sad event will help bring you even closer through shared grief and shared healing.

The thoughts of Unitarians and Universalists the world over are with you in this tragic time.

Sincerely,
Rev. Brian J. Kiely
President
International Council of Unitarians and Universalists

Photos by SATOU-san.

"Feet" (or, "On the Edge of 30")

When I was 20 I got a tattoo in Cape Town. The tattoo is a right footprint, also designed to look like the shape of the African continent. While living in South Africa I spent a lot of alone time on the beach, just watching my footprints melt into the sand. I thought about my place in the world: a priveledged American, a white person, a person of incredible relative wealth, a victim of violence, a student, a developing leader, a spiritual being, a woman learning to choose, a daughter, a writer, a singer, a teacher, a lover, a friend. Walking forward.

For most of my twenties, I couldn't feel my feet. Literally. Sometimes it was just my feet, but sometimes the lack of sensation went all the way up to my waist. It wasn't a problem, really, and only something that I noticed during massage or other body work. My massage therapist (best friend) and my acupuncturists were usually more concerned about it than I. Perhaps the twice-monthly acupuncture helped. Got the 'juice', the 'chi', moving.


And then, a couple years ago, Nick and I decided to be in committed relationship. We immediately knew it was "it", the thing, fer seriousness. ;) Yet we decided we needed more adventure in life and wanted to see more of the world; we moved to Japan for a year. We saw a bit of Asia and a lot of ourselves. And now we're moving "back". Next week we leave here, via Taipei and Omaha, to move to Minnesota. We imagine we will stay in Minnesota to build a home. Put down roots. Dig our feet in. You know, settle. I'm not really sure what that will feel like because I've never felt settled before. Even in my relatively stable childhood in Omaha, or my eight years in Portland, I was always ready to go.



And here's the interesting part: I can feel my feet! Of course my left foot still hurts from the injury in January. But I can also feel my right foot! The last few months of bodywork (Japanese acupuncture and shiatsu) have been enlightening, whole-body experiences. So I wonder what this increased sensation is all about? Is it all the walking and bike riding and physical rehab? Is it the acupuncture?

Or is that I am starting to sprout roots down there? Here comes 30...

Indigenous Ainu in Hokkaido (and an Onsen)

One of my goals in traveling around Hokkaido was to learn as much as I could about the indigenous people. We've visited several Ainu museums in Asahikawa, Niikappu, Sapporo, and now Akan. Perhaps that's my intention wherever I go, so as to be respectful to the history of those here. In some ways Japan is similar to the US, particularly in relation to the native indigenous population.

Last month was an interesting Ainu awareness event. Designed to coincide with the G8 Summit, many Ainu people, local Japanese, foreign residents, and even some Native Americans joined in a Walk across Ainu Mosir (Hokkaido)

This past weekend Nick and I and some friends visited Lake Akan on the eastern side of Hokkaido. There is an "Ainu Village" built for the millions of tourist who visit this lake each year. Lots of trinkets, hand-carved wooden gifts, and crap. Nick bought a cool t-shirt. We took some shots of the Ainu-ish buildings...




And then I discovered something truly remarkable. Among the many souvenir spots was the simple, jumbled shop of a truly talented artist, Masamitsu TAKIGUCHI. I was struck by the beauty of his carved statues. Upon entering his shop I met him and two of his friends, who were conversing in sign language. They were immediately friendly and we spoke mostly in gestures and smiles. It felt freer to be relieved of my language barrier. He did lipread so I was able to communicate the essential information in Japanese (my home country, my current job, my town in Hokkaido). He is a kind man with absolutely beautiful sculptures.






And then, incredibly, we went to THE MOST BEAUTIFUL ONSEN IN JAPAN, at Hotel Tsuga. I think it's officially listed as #5 in the country, but... wow. Most of my friends know how I love spas, spa products, and long showers. Onsen in Japan are like a fabulous combination of all three. The onsen was in this awesome luxury hotel. Tellingly, the incredible hotel lobby was decorated with huge sculptures by Takiguichi-san. And the onsen was just amazing, looking out over beautiful Akan lake. The dressing room had free massage chairs! And the onsen had an indoor cave, several hot and cold pools, two different massage pools (with special seats where you can relax while the jets work into your back muscles), a wooden pool inside of a giant hallowed-out California spruce tree, and of course the outdoor rock rotembero. Oh I love onens.

And I heart good art and learning about indigenous peoples. (What a conclusion!?!?)

Let's "Make a Forest"

In February we recorded a song which was chosen as the official song of the G8 Summit in Hokkaido at Lake Toya.


We performed the song several times this spring around Hokkaido, ending with our final performance at a concert on July 5 in Furano.
Backstage during the last concert, the perky female MC asked if I understood Japanese and when I said I have a little we chatted a bit. When she introduced me onstage I entered and stood near the mic, ready to sing. But before we could begin the music she wanted to ask me some questions, which I had to answer impromptu in front of the audience. Luckily my friend/colleague Inugami was there to allow me to answer in English with his translation. (Something about that slightly nerve-wrecking experience reminded me of the judges' questions onstage during the Miss Omaha Pageant when I was eighteen. Funny.)
Another surprise was in store for me, however. At the end of the concert I was unexpectedly asked to join the others in singing "Make a Forest" in Japanese. Oops. I tried to keep my distance from the microphone, for the benefit of the audience, but in the middle of the song Ms. Perky McHelper kindly offered me my own mic, to be sure that all could hear my mangled nihongo skills.


You can see the video of our final show here. (It's my first video I've posted on YouTube, so I'm feeling proud of my techie-prowess and simultaneously nervous for the publicity.)

A New Truth Commission

Please check out this article by Nicholas D. Kristof in the New York Times. An excerpt:


"“There is no longer any doubt as to whether the current administration has committed war crimes,” Antonio Taguba, the retired major general who investigated abuses in Iraq, declares in a powerful new report on American torture from Physicians for Human Rights. “The only question that remains to be answered is whether those who ordered the use of torture will be held to account.”

The first step of accountability isn’t prosecutions. Rather, we need a national Truth Commission to lead a process of soul searching and national cleansing.

That was what South Africa did after apartheid, with its Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and it is what the United States did with the Kerner Commission on race and the 1980s commission that examined the internment of Japanese-Americans during World War II.

Today, we need a similar Truth Commission, with subpoena power, to investigate the abuses in the aftermath of 9/11."


And I add, perhaps then, the USA will put Bush and Cheney in prison where they belong (with no pensions).

Peace One Day

Check out this amazing website, campaigning for International Peace Day on September 21.

Freedom in Japan

Some people travel to experience a new form of freedom they might not have in their native lands. Many travel in order to break out from the ordinary, learn something more about themselves, and make comparisons to their home. Please read the following article about some Japanese citizens on a trip to Italy.

Teachers in Japan are certainly held to extremely high standards as public figures. And generally, I see that as a good thing. But this story makes me sad... and sit up a little taller, in fear. On a daily basis I notice the relative lack of freedom that this society allows. Not just freedom of action, but also freedom of thought. Yet I am not held by the same expectations because I am a foreigner (the Japanese word is がい人, outside person). And I am leaving.

Americaland

"The American Dream offers a land in which life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to ability or achievement." 1931, James Truslow Adams

What does it mean, to me, to be from the United States of America? What does it mean, to others, to meet a woman from America? How do people react to me, knowing my nationality? What do they assume about me? What do I wish they understood, and what do I wish we could heal? What parts of my "american-ness" are my points of pride, and for what do I feel ashamed?

The following is a disorganized list of thoughts about the US in the world. Possible future essay topics.

Freedom of thought and action: In the US we are privileged to be able to think what we want, AND to to express our thoughts through letters to our senators, employment unions, personal fashion sense, creative art... In my travels through Eastern Europe I learned that many people there have independent thoughts but it is too dangerous to express their political thoughts publicly. This problem directly affects public life, even years after the fall of communism: in the Czech Republic no one wants to join clubs or even share their thoughts with friends, for fear their 'friends' might be spies.

Independent Thought: In Japan, when I ask the students a simple question like "what is your favorite color?" they turn to one another to confer before answering. The students do not understand the concept of voting. Virtually all teachers belong to the same ineffective teacher`s union. When a child is singled out and bullied, s/he tends to believe his peers` assesment and never defends himself. In America, if one child is bullied or isolated s/he usually aligns himself with another social group and tries to ignore the pressures of the agressors. This characteristic of Japanese culture has a positive side: harmony and group cohesion.

Wealth and sharing: When I explain my nationality to students (in a self-introduction lesson I have given about 50 times), they become wide-eyed and wildly curious. The United States is exhorbatantly wealthy in finances and natural resources. Even modest suburban houses are extraordinary compared to homes in developed nations like Australia and Japan.

Violence and war: News-reading adults here, both gaijins and Japanese nationals, are deeply concerned about America's recent warmongering. The US is also famous for its tradition of gun-wielding, robbery and frequent murders. Now that I've been out of it for a year, living in a very safe country, I see the violence in America simply appalling. It really sucks to live in constant awareness/fear and I am not looking forward to it. Private gun ownership seems a completely asinine tradition that only feeds fear.

Charity: The word doesn't even translate into Japanese. When speaking about "volunteerism", Japanese use the English word because it is such a rare concept here. I am so grateful to from the US, where ordinary citizens meet violence and despair with generous acts of goodwill. Every church, civic group, and family has a charity or two that we support. Even our national budget includes a significant percentage for nation-building, global public health, and economic stimulation of foreign nations.

Privilege, strength, bullying

Diversity and acceptance: In January and February I did a number of lessons specifically about "diversity", a word which interestingly, does not have have a Japanese translation.

Continual revolutions toward justice and equality

Creativity, opportunity, production, efficiency, output

Special Needs: My Transformation

Shame... and Conversion

My experiences in the past year, as an educator and as an injured person, have changed me for the better. In the past decade I became aware of, and ashamed of, my prejudicial attitude toward people with mental handicaps. I experienced fear and discomfort around those who had mental handicaps, partly because they do not act "normally" according to social customs. My reaction to those with physical handicaps was completely different and I joined other Unitarian Universalists in voting/arguing for full accessibility in public spaces. And though I made the same arguments for those with mental disabilities, privately I felt differently. I cannot justify WHY I felt this way, and I knew it was one of my weaknesses as a humanitarian. My private feelings certainly did not align with our core principals of recognizing the "inherent worth and dignity of all people". Two things helped me transform.

First, it was being an educator in the public school system of Japan, where special needs students are integrated into the school. Considering Japanese culture's aversion to anything "different", the practice of full integration is surprisingly humanitarian. Every school has several hired teachers whose job is to teach the handicapped students. In classes where the students are intellectually capable of keeping up with other students, they join while the special ed teacher assists. In classes where the students are not able to keep up, they have separate classes which are taught by the (kind, flexible) special ed teachers. In club activities and school functions, special needs students are totally included. Only one school in my town (out of 20) has an elevator. But where there aren't elevators, the school has some sort of machine that can roll the student up the stairs in a wheelchair. Also surprising, I notice that most fully-able students act inclusively and kindly toward differently-abled students. My observation of this public educational arrangement offered me perhaps my first experiences with differently-abled students; the private schools I attended as a child were not integrated.

Second, I was injured in January. I needed to use a wheelchair and crutches to get around. I relied upon elevators, fully accessible toilets (both very rare here!) and my partner. At work I felt seriously discriminated against. Yet I was lucky to have one healthy leg and one healthy arm to lean upon when teaching, squat with over Japanese toilets, hop through the snow, balance upon when changing from indoor to outdoor shoes... I will never forget the frustrations of negotiating Sapporo's icy streets and complex train system in my wheelchair. Elevators were remotely located and rare. Frequently I needed to get up and hop. People bumped into me or didn't notice me because, sitting, I was so much shorter than them. Or they instinctively looked at my legs to see why I was in a chair. And once, in the underground hallways around the JR, I noticed another person in a motorized wheelchair. She looked as if she might have severe cerebral palsy because she appeared to have little motor function and used her mouth to operate her chair. But in the moment as we passed one another, she looked straight into my eyes and nodded her head. Eye contact is rare in Japanese society, and this bow was one of the most meaningful gestures I have ever experienced. She recognized my challenge and included me in her circle, although it was clear that my need for the chair would be temporary. It was an incredible gift.


In the months that followed, I visited my local hospital at least once a week for X-rays, MRI, CAT scan, wound dressing, and physical rehabilitation. At rehab I saw several of my special-needs students who were receiving physical therapy. They were always excited to see me there (if the cool foreign teacher gets rehab, maybe I'm not so weird!) and we had a special connection whenever I visited their schools. But the biggest transformation was mine: I had an opportunity to watch these children laugh and play with their PT doctors, who encouraged and massaged the students in fun and confidence-boosting environment. And oh! what joy and love those children are capable of giving! Watching the PT's and supportive parents of these children deeply touched me. They gave love and joy selflessly. And the parents of these special needs did not act apologetic or ashamed; they appeared to love tirelessly and fiercely. In a rigid society which demands assimilation, these children and parents found a space to celebrate their differences. Maybe these children will not be fully assimilated or appreciated in mainstream Japanese society. Maybe they won't ever learn English. But maybe my presence in that PT room offered them "internationalization". And certainly they are worthy of dignity and respect. They have other unique skills: these children offer love and acceptance and laughter as gifts to those they meet. I am so grateful for their joy, which has aided in the expansion of my soul.

Watching Time

A butterfly comes and stays on a leaf —
a leaf much warmed by the sun —
and shuts his wings.
In a minute he opens them, shuts them again,
half wheels round, and by and by —
just when he chooses and not before — floats away.
The flowers open, and remain open for hours, to the sun.
Hastlessness is the only word one can make up to describe it;
there is much rest, but no haste.
Each moment is so full of life
that it seems so long
and so sufficient in itself.

–Richard Jeffries

Small World, Big Hearts

Mary Grace was born February 6, 2008 in the Netherlands. Her American parents, Adam and Amber, invited a spiritually diverse circle to nurture Gracie as Godparents, including myself. The family are involved in a community in Amsterdam called the Netherlands Unitarian Universalist Fellowship. This past winter the NUUF decided as a church community to give Gracie a welcoming gift in the form of a donation to her favorite children's charity. Gracie's family chose Hands to Hearts International, a worthy cause for whom I volunteered in HHI's founding years. As a massage therapist herself, Amber is particularly inspired by the powerful effect of therapeutic touch for these babies who do not have such a loving circle of providers. And I think Gracie enjoys the massage techniques highlighted on the recently-created HHI DVD!

On June 1, NUUF announced the recipient of this special donation on behalf of Mary Grace. It so happens that on the same day, the church fellowship had special visitors from Portland: Mark and Carol from the First Unitarian Church in Portland. Mark and Carol are dear friends of mine and knew about my involvement with HHI. But perhaps they didn't know how HHI was being mentioned that day in the Netherlands: that it was my Godchild being honored with such a gift. What an incredible coincidence! We are so privileged and blessed to have such loving connections around the world: on that June day they were visiting Amsterdam, Gracie's family was vacationing in Greece with Godmother Elizabeth; Godmother Teresa was living in Japan; other Godparents were sending love from America; and the Netherlands Unitarian Universalist Fellowship was honoring Mary Grace with the gift of love for children in India!

Food

The following is an excerpt of an interview of Winona LaDuke in YES! Magazine. LaDuke is one of my biggest sheroes and I am very excited to move back to Minnesota and be nearer to her wisdom/action. I like what she says here about work, food, and celebration.

"Sarah van Gelder: Can you tell me about how wild rice is harvested?

Winona LaDuke: We go up on the lake and we put our asemaa, our tobacco, on it. My son is my ricing partner, and we canoe through our rice beds. I used to push him, but he got too big, so now he pushes me out there, and I knock rice into the canoe with two sticks.

The rice grows on our lakes and rivers—some is fat and some skinny, some short, some tall. Some grows in muddy waters, some looks like a bottle brush, and some looks all punked out. That’s called biodiversity. It means not all the rice ripens at once. Some gets knocked off by wind. Some gets a blight, some doesn’t get a blight. The Irish potato famine should have taught us that agricultural monoculture is dangerous—but so is a social monoculture (or you could say, mall-culture).

The anthropologists used to come out and watch us manoominike—harvest the rice. After we rice in the morning, we bring our rice in and let it dry. We parch it over a fire, and we dance on it to get the hulls off, and then winnow it in a basket. We pretty much do the same thing today using wood fires as we’ve always done—we’re an intermediate technology people.

Ojibwe is a language of 8,000 verbs. The word for “work” is a strange construct for us. It doesn’t mean we aren’t a hard-working people, but in our language, the word is anokii, which means that whether you are fishing or weaving a basket, what you are doing is living—which is not the same thing as being paid a wage to do something.

After the harvest, we have a big feast, and we dance and tell stories. The anthropologists watched us, and they didn’t like that. They said we would never become civilized because we enjoyed our harvest too much. We did too much dancing, too much singing.

When you no longer enjoy your relationship to your food, to your plant relatives, to the harvest, to the dancing and singing—when you end up with a harvest that has no relationships or joy, I think that must be the mark of civilization and industrialized agriculture."

A Rural Life

I grew up on the plains of the "bread basket of the world", "the heartland", near the center of the North American continent. The region was considered "frontier", to be settled and farmed by Euro- Americans, in the early 1800's. Nebraska became a state in 1867. Virtually no unbroken land remains, although the open skies of Nebraska are breathtakingly beautiful.

Hokkaido, perhaps more similar to Alaska, could still be called "frontier". Many farming settlers arrived in the early 1900's, and more continue to move here in search of open space. Hokkaido became a full-fledged prefecture in 1947. Vast amounts of the island are untouched.

In applying for programs with which to move abroad, I hoped for a rural placement. After living in the dense city center of Portland for nearly eight years, I missed seeing the horizon. I wanted clean air, fresh water, local produce, places to hike, and outdoor adventure. I got all of what I wished for, and it has been a remarkable experience.

In Autumn my shelves were stocked with a bounty of fresh vegetables, both familiar and foreign. We hiked and explored.













In Winter the snow filled the ditches three meters deep. Crystalline ice sanctified the forest.


















Spring began with violent crashes of melting snow falling from my roof. Then the fields were planted, painstakingly by hand. Rice fields mirrored the volcanic mountains.













And, oh, Summer! The forests are exploding with green foliage, and sounding a cacophonous symphony of unseen creatures. Thunder crashes and sheets of rain threaten to push me from my bicycle. Flowers abound. Every weekend is filled with visiting friends, camping adventures, and promise.

The Story of Sai`s Horse

"Ningen banji saiou ga uma" is a Japanese proverb, literally translated as "All human affairs are like Saiou's horse". It means, "One can never know what will prove to be lucky or unlucky". The meaning came from a Chinese folk tale about an old man called Sai. Here is the story:

Once upon a time, an old man, Sai, lived near the Chinese Northern Fort. One day his horse ran away. His neighbors commiserated with him over his misfortune, but Sai said "How do you know this is not really good luck?". A few days later the horse returned, bringing another horse with it. However when his neighbors congratulated him on his good luck, the old man said "How do you know this is really good luck?" Sure enough, some while later Sai's son fell while riding the horse, and broke his leg. However this turned out to be good fortune when all the young men of the village were ordered to join the Emperor's army. Sai's son didn't have to go since he had a broken leg.

This year in Japan I have experienced great fortune and incredible bad luck. I am placed in a lovely town, centrally located on an astoundingly beautiful island, with clean air and fresh produce. Unfortunately, my town is far enough from the ocean that I have only been to visit those life-giving waters ONCE in the year. I was lucky to inherit a car from my predecessor, only to see it totaled one month after purchase. My pre-existing medical situation was a big worry, but allowed me to travel to the lovely city of Sapporo regularly for doctor's checkups and shopping. I received enough income from my work to afford the luxury of a vacation in delicious Thailand, enjoyed our time there immensely, and at the end of the trip became seriously injured in a scooter accident. My job challenges me to visit dozens of schools all over the region, which allows me the pleasure to drive through incredible mountainous forests and meet hundreds of beautiful children. After one year in Japan, I have been blessed to arrive with my patient and resourceful partner, with whom I can depart calling my fiancee. We will build our lives strengthened and, at times amused, by the memories of this remarkable year abroad.