Danny in Asia

It was nice to wake up in an apartment. Scott had to work, so I had the day to myself to explore Gwangju. As South Korea’s fifth largest city, this home to 1.4 million people has a lot to offer. I was excited to see how people live in a regular city, away from the hustle of Seoul. Again the city takes on a familiar shape with a rough idea of the city center being dominated with taller buildings and commercial interests, and the periphery dotted with massive apartment blocks. As in Seoul, houses are scarce, and from speaking with Scott, most live in apartments, even outside the cities.

While sometimes the architecture of Asia, both modern and traditional, tends to blend together, the varying uses of land provide striking differences in atmosphere. In this regard Korea feels very spacious. The apartment dominated living standards allow for more parks, green space, and wide streets and expressways. The result is a more expansive feeling as opposed to the cluttered neighborhoods of Japan. Hoverer, by taking more of an American approach to road building, where wider and more seems to be the prevailing trend, gridlock and crazy driving is ubiquitous. It doesn’t take long in Korea to realize that red lights are optional and cars rule. If you can’t get across the street in the minuscule amount of time the walk signal gives, look out.

Today I avoided buses and taxis and took Gwangju’s sole subway line down to Yangdong Market. I enjoyed Seoul’s markets and found Gwangju’s to be even better. It seems this is where the savvy Korean shoppers find bargains, and so did I. I’ve been lucky in my travels in Asia to have had at least one experience in each country to cook. I should rephrase this because I’ve never really cooked anything particularly local, but having a kitchen at my disposal has gotten me out in the markets and grocery stores, an experience I consider vital to feeling out the lifestyle of a new place. While I hate shopping for souvenirs and clothes, I do enjoy grocery shopping.

The market straddles the river and branches out from the subway station in a grid of covered alleyways. In the stalls are heaps of kimchi, bins of mushrooms, and bundles of dried seaweed. There is pork alley, where the butchers display the freshly severed head of the unlucky pig as a welcome sign. In fish alley they stack piles of frozen stingray, hang thousands of fish like a silvery woven quilt, and tend to the tanks of live octopus and eel. Other sections of the market include live birds, ginseng, dried fish, and produce. I stocked up on fruits and veggies before heading downtown for a stroll, then returning back to Scott’s place. Gwangju seems like a nice enough place.

Gwangju was the site of a large uprising against the government which started on May 18, 1980. A group of pro-communist student activists took to the streets, angered by the closing of the University by military personnel. The uprising soon expanded beyond students and citizen militias were formed which ended up expelling the military units by March 20. On March 27 the military regrouped and retook the city by force, killing 207 according to the official count. However, there are many who claim this figure to be much higher, possibly in the thousands.

Gwangju has since carried with it the reputation as the revolutionary city, and everywhere are reminders of these past events. Near Scott’s apartment is the May 18 Memorial Park and Museum. Poignant statues dot the park and surround a museum about the event. The park is nice, but I can’t seem to forget the injustice that overshadows the Memorial. The two generals directly responsible for orders to fire on crowds later both became president. I wonder how much attention is given this fact in the history books as those in power usually write them. A path winds up a gentle hill to a three-storied viewing pagoda. From the top you can see all of Gwangju and the mountains that surround, the largest of them being Mudeung-san which was our target today.

Hiking is a popular hobby among Koreans, so you know when your on a mountain-bound bus by the boots and hiking sticks. Even a short day hike brings out the full attire including knee-high leg warmers, gortex pants, jacket, gloves, and hat. These clothes didn’t seem so strange today since it’s cold and snowed earlier in the week, but according to Scott, even summer hikes bring out the full wardrobe.

We hiked around in the snow for a couple of hours before heading back downtown for lunch, a quick 30 minute ride. We rested up, had some dinner, and headed out at night in search of a foreigner party being given by some new teachers. The night ended in a Noribong, a Korean karaoke bar, and the last thing I remember is haggling with a waitress at 5 am over paying 4,000won for my bowl of “well-being” soup. Judging from the way I felt when I woke up I was right to give her a hard time, because there wasn’t an ounce of well being in my body. The whole night reminded me of my first six months in Japan, only I didn’t have to work to next day. Great night.

Late start needless to say. We caught a movie before shifting into New Years mode. The movie got me thinking about Japan. Throughout the trip I’ve tried to be careful about comparing the countries too much, but it’s been difficult to resist. Korea is often described as being somewhere in between China and Japan, and I’m not talking solely about geography. It’s not as clean and overly polite as Japan, but not as dirty as China, and Koreans have figured out how to form an orderly line. Cost of living is less than Japan and more than China. I’ve also found that people are genuinely interested in foreigners here as in Japan, but are more outgoing in their willingness to approach you. This gung-ho attitude is also present in Chinese society, but when taken to extremes comes off as aloofness or blatant disregard for others. While I don’t like using blanket descriptions or comparisons, I have had occasions in my time here where they are useful.

So in regard to Japan, I’ve been refreshed by the entertainment options readily available in Korea. It seems that Korean’s enjoy their free time more by the numerous options available to them. Japan’s primary entertainment venues are karaoke and Pachinko. Pachinko in particular is everywhere and is an activity that is so incredibly unappealing to me personally that it has become a symbol in my mind of the depressing workaholic lifestyle of some Japanese. It is a type of casino gambling that’s akin to vertical pinball. I haven’t quite figured it out completely because it’s played in a brightly lit, noisy, smoke-filled hall that I can’t stand, and is expensive to boot. As neither a fan of gambling nor sitting for hours at a time breathing second-hand smoke, I will never understand Pachinko’s popularity. But by its prevalence on every corner, it appears to be the entertainment of choice.

In a typical shopping area in Korea you can find many internet cafes, pool halls, noribong (karaoke), and movie theaters. There are simply more choices. Movie theaters tell a larger story. I spent about $10 to see an evening show, the price including popcorn and drink. In Japan, seeing a movie in a theater costs between $15-20 dollars for the ticket alone. This doesn’t include the train or bus ride that getting to the theater might require, as theaters are few and far between.

The prevalence of affordable, convenient movie theaters and Korea’s thriving entertainment industry are no coincidence. The film and television industries have been exporting Korean movies and shows around Asia for years, and a few movies have enjoyed acclaim recently worldwide. The most popular soap operas in Japan are Korean, sparking a surge in middle aged Japanese women tourists coming to Korea to chance a glimpse of their favorite heart-throb stars.

While manga and anime are Japanese mainstays, film that falls out of the animated category is stagnant in Japan. The movie companies are barely hanging on, bolstered slightly by the recent Japanese horror boom, but generally in a slump.

In the two years I’ve been in Japan, I’ve seen three movies in theaters. A week in Korea and I saw one because how can I resist when the option is there and cheap? While we waited for the show we played a few games of poor downstairs, the whole experience making me realize what I’ve been reluctant to admit; Japan is kind of boring.

Korea
versus

Japan

Last night started late at the Speakeasy in downtown Gwangju. We arrived at around 11:00 and wandered around lighting off roman candles and watching the live pop show concert in the center of town before heading to the foreigner bar.

The place was packed and I had a great time meeting folks from all over the world. Pretty standard countdown to intoxication kind of New Year.

I’m on a bus now bound for Busan and Korean guys next to me keep feeding me dried octopus, potatoes, and kimbap (Korean sushi). My voice is a wreck from karaoke two nights ago and according to my new friend I “smell strongly of alcohol.” I’m heading to Busan to catch a ferry that exists in theory, but have no idea if it’s running on New Years since it’s a holiday for both countries.

My hardship begins. I was greeted in Busan International Ferry terminal by closed ticket windows. Busan to Fukuoka-closed; Busan to Kobe-closed; Busan to Qingtao-closed. Come back on January 5th. Panic set in before I noticed the last window had lights on.

“Is there a boat to Shimonoseki today?” I asked.

“It begins boarding in 15 minutes.” I had made it.

“Can I exchange Won for Yen on the boat?”

“Sure, would you like a ticket?”

Even though Busan seemed like a beautiful city to check out, I was ready to start my journey back home and to see Western Honshu. With my ticket to Shimonoseki I would be waking up to start the final leg of my trip on the southernmost tip of Japan’s big island.

The Japanese leg of the “capitals tour” is to be an experiment in frugality. With the well established reputation as one of the world’s most expensive travel destinations, I have wanted for some time to see how cheaply one can travel here. With my backpack, down sleeping bag, and bivy sack, my goal is to bum my way back to Tokyo seeing the major sites on the way, and spending the fewest Yen in the process. I hope this experience helps future budget travelers deterred by Japan’s notoriously high costs.

When I stepped on the boat I had no idea how extreme my chosen poverty experiment was about to become. I quickly realized that while I could spend Won in the duty free shop, I could not change it. I had 575 yen left over from before and that was it. After dinner I was down to 75 yen and an apple. The boat ride was quite nice and we arrived in Shinonoseki at 9am the next morning, January 2nd. I knew from my last two years in Japan that the country pretty much closes shop for about 4-5 days over New Years, but I overlooked this point in my haste leaving Korea. On the boat I reasoned that I must be able to visit a 7-11 ATM for cash. This is not the case. On the morning of January 2nd I realized that I had 75 yen to my name and no way of getting cash for two full days, the morning of the 4th. The only stroke of luck was being able to buy my discount train ticket on my VISA, so I would be hungry but at least moving. Aside from stations and high class restaurants, Japan is not a very VISA friendly country, and any restaurants that do accept cards would either blow the budget or be closed.

Already hungry from the previous day spent on buses and boats, I accepted this unfortunate turn of events, got on the next train bound for Hiroshima, and began my unchosen fast.

When luck turns against you, and you happen to find yourself in a particular travel destination you had hoped to enjoy, but now face less than optimal conditions (like for instance it’s raining or you’re broke and starving), you should hope that this destination isn’t Hiroshima. It just might depress you.

I’ve been wanting to see Hiroshima for some time; to pay tribute to a tragic moment in human history and reflect on the action taken by my country to end a long war. I would have never guessed that I would be here under these circumstances, not able to pay 100 yen to ride the streetcar to the peace park. By this point I am extremely hungry, appeasing my grumbling stomach with a lot of water. When I arrived on foot to the A-bomb dome the site really put things in perspective for me. Although hungry, my fate is nothing compared to the 120,000 who lost their lives in a flash 61 years ago, or the survivors made to suffer through burns, radiation, and hunger. I have it easy. It was from this moment that I decided to look on my fate positively. This will be my fast for Hiroshima. I’m not going to starve in two days without food. As long as I keep drinking water I’ll be fine.

With this attitude shift came a stroke of good luck. I expected the museum to be out of my price range, but turned out to be only 50 yen, a Japanese museum bargain! I happily got my ticket, reducing my funds down to 25 yen. The museum is predictably depressing, and promotes a strong message of peace and the end to all nuclear weapons. The optimist in me sighed, the realist’s eyes rolled, and my stomach growled again. I’d seen enough of this place.

My last hope of finding food and money before the fourth was in my good friend Mayumi, at home in Shikoku over the holidays. We started playing phone tag in Hiroshima until my battery died. I am now on my way to her small home town of Sakaide, the first stop across the inland sea via the massive Seto Ohashi bridge. The plan is to get there, find a random outlet, plug in my phone, and find salvation.

I woke up to the sound of voices. I had figured that my location choice for camping would be a popular place for early risers to walk in the morning, but I didn’t care. When the voices trailed off I quickly got up and packed away my sleeping bag and bivy. I slept perched on a level clearing on the side of a small mountain near Sakaide station. My plan to charge my phone last night failed when I realized that my charger was broken. Must have fried it in Korea.

While Japan is full of small city parks suitable for sleeping out, the chances of getting hastled by the police are higher and the traffic and lights can make for a sleepless night. I’ve learned to head for the mountains and recommend Google Earth to figure out good towns with mountains within walking distance of the station.

This spot was perfect. The view of Sakaide, the surrounding hills, inland sea, and Seto Ohashi on the horizon were welcome sights this morning. My hunger had subsided as well, and as I begin day two of my fast I simply feel weak and tired with hunger pain coming in less frequent waves.

Soon an old man and his dog came up the hill. He took one look at my backpack and said in Japanese:

“Are you camping in the winter?”

Trying to make an excuse for myself I tripped over my words until finally conceding that I was. He looked at me, then up the trail and said, “Well, shall we climb the mountain?”

“Sure.” We chatted along the way about Shikoku, it’s famous udon noodles, the 88 shrine pilgrimage that many in Japan try to complete, and the mountain. The old guy climbs it twice a day; once at 6am and again at 4pm. What a nice ritual. When we arrived at the top the sun was about 20 minutes from peeking up over the mountains across the clearing where Sakaide is nestled among the hills. I had a magical experience on that mountain.

Last night I arrived in Sakaide with no way of reaching my friend, and from the station exit I could see the lights leading up to the summit, calling me over for the night. When I arrived at my little clearing, two owls swooped down and perched on a light pole, watching me set up my bed before flying away. I guess I checked out alright with them.

After watching the sunrise I had to formulate a plan. I would catch the train back to Okayama, the biggest city in the area, and hope for a cell phone shop to be open to call Mayumi. I can wait out the hunger until tomorrow, but would rather not. I bid the old man and his dog farewell and headed back the the station.

Yesterday my luck began to change for the better. I got a hold of Mayumi while in Okayama and she told me to get back to Sakaide right away. In the end I got to cross the huge bridge four times, a thrilling and beautiful experience. The inland sea separating the islands of Shikoku and southern Honshu has a different feel. Its rich green waters were gorgeous on these clear winter days. With no waves the coast has been spared from the wrath of concrete tetrapods that litter the Pacific side. Dotted with small islands and busy with a constant stream of sea traffic, it reminds me of Puget Sound.

Mayumi’s family took me in as one of their own. They fed me, bathed me, and Mayumi put some money in my pocket. It was my first experience with the rumored Western Japanese hospitality and it will go down as one of my best memories from my time in Japan. It was hard to manage my best Japanese manners while fighting the urge to devour all the food in front of me like a wild animal. I had been imagining the previous two days what I’d prefer if I could eat anything. Lasagna topped the list over mashed potatoes, gravy and pork chops. I didn’t imagine myself eating osechi, the traditional New Years holiday food, but that’s exactly what I ate. It’s made the day before New Years and placed in decorated boxes. The idea behind New Years, or Oshou Gatsu, is that everyone relaxes including the women-folk, so all the food can stay fresh for several days. It’s a random assortment that most foreigners would call “strange Japanese food.” Honestly I’ve always gone out of my way to avoid osechi, hearing again and again how people generally tolerate it for the sake of tradition. So I’m glad I waited until I was literally starving to try it, because it tasted amazing.
This morning Mayumi and her parents took me on a drive around Sakaide showing me the best viewpoints of the bridge and sea. They dropped me off at the station a changed man.

On a new travel footing I set out from Sakaide and headed straight for Himeji three hours away. This small to medium sized town is home to one of Japan’s last remaining authentic wooden framed castles. It quickly became apparent that this place would join my top five places to see in Japan list.

Kyoto is often called the cultural heart of Japan for its plentiful shrines, temples and gardens. While these sites are beautiful in their own right, they are interspersed among the large, mundane city that Kyoto has become.

It’s less often that you can find a place that transports you body and mind to the Japan of the past. Himeji castle is one of these places, along with Nara and Nikko. These three places share a special energy that is distinctive and will add a spark to any Japan travel itinerary.

The castle is six stories plus a basement level. The main tower is a sight to behold, but I enjoyed the surrounding grounds just as much. Wandering the expansive grounds you can imagine the daily routines that people followed hundreds of years ago. There are numerous wells, long storehouses for rice and salt, and living quarters. Outside the main tower the most interesting place is the West Bailey, a long hallway with adjacent rooms that runs the length of the western wall. This building used to house Princess Sen, the eldest daughter of one of the early Tokugawa Shoguns. Her marriage to Honda Tadatoki united two of Japan’s most powerful families, marking the beginning of the long period of relative peace during Japan’s Edo period.

Also of interest is Okiku’s well, said to be haunted by the ghost of a servant woman who was wrongfully killed. As a servant to the Lord’s chief retainer, she informed the Lord of her master’s plot to kill and overthrow him. When her master found out he broke a priceless treasure dish and blamed her. She was tortured and killed and they threw her body in the well that is now named after her. It is said that her voice can still be heard counting the pieces of the broken dish.

If you’re in Western Japn, or base your Japanese travels in the Kansai area, Himeji can’t be missed. Local train service from Osaka takes about 1-1.5 hours and makes a good day trip, possibly in combination with an evening in Kobe on the way back.

Osaka has a wild feel about it, a city with more verve than Tokyo. I spent only about five hours in town, enough to give me a brief flavor of Japan’s second largest city that’s famous for takoyaki, it’s unique dialect, and organized crime. As I said, I barely scratched the surface of this mega-city, but am starting to understand the previous reports of the Kansai region, where people are reputed as louder and more direct than those in Kanto.

This observation probably has something to do with the place I chose to visit, focusing on the lively Dotombori neighborhood in Southern Osaka. It’s situated between Namba and Kintetsu Nipponbashi stations and is the most energetic place I’ve been in Japan. In a country where ramen shops, fast food, Pachinko parlours, and hostess bars can tend to blend together in a neon blur, the shops and restaurants of Dotombori set themselves apart with huge elaborate signs and distinctive storefronts.

Fugu, the potentially deadly puffer fish, is a popular delicacy in Western Japan and huge ten foot long signs adorn the entrances to shops where it can be purchased by the brave. Other signs include giant crabs, 20 foot dragons, and storefronts the size and shape of old Japanese sailing junks.

As you walk into the heart of this neon maze you will find yourself on the Ebisubashi bridge, with four story neon signs and television screens reflecting off the canal of the Dotombori River. The bridge is also home to the uber-trendy Japanese youth, covered in a bronze tan that is accentuated by their titanium white lipstick and fluorescent eyeliner. It’s as if they are striving to stand out from this ultramodern cityscape that surrounds but to which they seem oblivious. I guess it’s just another night hanging out on the bridge. The view from Shibuya station in Tokyo comes to mind, but the bridge offers a closer proximity to the brightness, a surreal cocoon of lights.

Crossing the bridge you stroll past shops, restaurants, and hostess bars before arriving in Amerika-mura (American village), an area with shops devoted to the still thriving popularity of the world’s most unpopular country.

The area is also full of imaginatively decorated Love Hotels, one more of Japan’s lovable quirks. Since people here live with their families longer than in Western countries, Love Hotels provide short term or nightly accommodation for some quality alone time. Oh and married people cheat a lot here, so these places are useful for flights of infidelity as well. I recommend staying in a Love Hotel to any traveler in Japan, even solo travelers. I had to shake the images of cheap hourly dives with regular customers named Candy and Bambi. Love Hotels are clean, often the cheapest place to stay, and are wildly decorated with different motifs in each room. Many include free movies and karaoke too. No matter what, you’re guaranteed a fun, unique experience.

A few hours walking around Dotombori gave me a feel for the place, and feeling like I could check Osaka off my list of places I’ve seen, I headed back to the station.