The Adventures of J-Hat

I remember when I was kid and going out trick-or-treating, trying to compete with my brothers to see who could get the most pillow case full of candy in one night. Some years we'd have a good haul and have to drop a full pillow case back home to grab an empty one, and other times my mom would drive us in the van with the side-door open so we wouldn't need to walk from house to house. Those were the good days. I wasn't so much into Halloween for the costumes or spookiness of the occasion. At that age, it was aaall about the candy. I remember one time when I was 12 and didn't have a costume so I cut two wholes out of a bed sheet and voila! Instant ghost costume. It kept slipping and wasn't very easy to wear, so taking my laziness to new heights I took off the bed sheet, bundled it in my arms and said "I'm a ghost but it won't stay on," when I was asked what I was, which was still good enough to receive the candy! I had fooled the system.

Nowadays, I can't quite go out trick-or-treating anymore but since being in Japan where Halloween is still a novelty, I can bring trick-or-treating and Halloween to Japanese children. Last year I was a mummy, but this year I decided to go with something a little different - a green Care Bear costume (which will double as a snowboarding outfit in the Winter ;). I've worn it a few times driving around in my car after I'd bought it, at the bar in Obihiro, and to teach some Halloween lessons at my schools. I also wore it yesterday for the Tokoro Kid's Halloween Party.

This year we had a small group of 20 kindergarten and elementary kids attend. For some of them, it was the first time they'd ever experienced anything as strange as Halloween. They came dressed up in their costumes, some looking like they were unsure what everything was about (like a little boy in a suit jacket and knee-socks), but was balanced out by all the other little witches, frogs, fairies, and the grim reaper with his inflatable scythe. There were events such as Halloween Twister, Halloween Bingo, a Halloween relay and... Halloween donuts-on-a-string (to substitute for Bobbin' for Apples). If the sugary donuts weren't enough to get the kids into hyper-mode, the night was topped off with a ghost pinata full of candy that they had to bust open with a baseball bat. I'm just glad we didn't have to deal with the kids after that.

After spending a few weeks teaching about Halloween, showing pictures of Halloween costumes from back home, and doing endless Halloween activities, the exposure has made me start to really enjoy this holiday. Back in Canada, I'd become indifferent to it after wearing costumes for Halloween since I learned to walk. But being in Japan and seeing it again through the eyes of an adult has shown me that it's not so much about the candy, but about dressing up and just having fun. Now I think it's fun to dress up for Halloween, and fun seeing the little kids enjoying themselves, and even funner running around in a green Care Bear costume handing out candy to random Japanese strangers on the streets! Ah, who knows, maybe I am still a kid.

Happy Halloween everyone!

Just when I thought my hiking was done for the season, I got an invite to hike another mountain with my friend Georgie a few days ago. This time of year, mid-Autumn, has already seen us with a light dusting of snow on the lofty mountain peaks so we decided to tackle a mountain slightly closer to the sea, Mt.Nikoro, at a breezy 829 meters. It was a short, brisk hike taking us three hours to reach the peak and back. Georgie's 50-year old Japanese friend, Kazumi-san, led our little group of multi-national ALT's directly up the mountain on the steepest path he could find, making it feel more like a military exercise than a relaxed hike through the forest.

The charm of Mt.Nikoro wasn't the beautiful, winding path that hugged the mountain or the gorgeous Autumn-colored trees, but the old Japanese man named Kisaku-san who has rightfully claimed the mountain as his own. His story, as told by Kazumi-san, is that he's a 75-year old man who lives near the mountain and climbs it every single day of the year, rain or shine. He also likes to take pictures of other hikers he meets on the trail and puts them on his self-made website. Kazumi-san knew of him from previously hiking the mountain so we timed our descent to run into him as he was on his way up.

When we met him, he was overjoyed at seeing such a mixed group of people. We had an Irish, an American, a British, and a Canadian.. not quite what he was expecting, I imagine. He took our picture, jotted down our names and info, thanked us profusely and then gave us his business card, told us about his website, and continued to tell us how happy he was. We definitely made his day! Check out what he had to say about us on his website (in Japanese): http://8805.teacup.com/nikoroyama2/bbs/1619.

If you ever come to humble Mt.Nikoro near Kitami in Eastern Hokkaido, look for Kisaku-san - the Old Man of Nikoroyama.

I'll be honest, I don't like zoos. They're depressing. A couple of weekends ago I paid a visit to the Asahiyama Zoo in Asahikawa. A few friends from Takikawa wanted to visit the zoo so I met them there with my friend Nikki. We walked around on an emotional low (I wasn't the only one to dislike zoos) to see the animals on exhibit in their cages, like glass displays of exotic pets. The most saddest polar bear I've ever seen was in a walled enclosure made of fiberglass rocks, like you'd see on a movie set, with a regurgitating waterfall for ambiance. To add to insult, they planted two separate trees to give a fake impression that somehow this was nature! I watched the polar bear, yellowed with age, walk back-and-forth from wall to wall with its head tilted to the left, probably waiting until next feeding time, and imagined myself living there for 15 years. A virtual jail! I'm not gonna go out and join PETA or anything, but how can you enjoy looking at owls and hawks that can't fly, or gorillas surrounded by concrete and steel, or a lone snow leopard in a giant bird cage?! I'd rather watch them on TV than see them at the zoo, thank you very much.

Sadly, by going there, I was helping to prop up this animal Guantanamo Bay. Not only did I pay to get in, but I bought a lifetime membership :P Seriously though, how do they get away with charging 800 yen for a single entrance fee and 1000 yen for a lifetime membership? Well anyways, I bought a lifetime membership... probably because I'll go back there in the winter when they let the penguins walk around, heehee, but then that's it! I'm throwing my membership in the fire.. or using it to pick the locks on the animal cages. I did like the Red Panda though, I want one (=^.^=)

In my little corner of Eastern Hokkaido, my town is being turned upside-down in a once-in-a-lifetime historical event. Gappei 2009! Today, my town has officially merged with the next town over to become the new Town of Yubetsu, complete with speeches, ribbon-cutting, and a flag-raising ceremony. With two towns of less than 6,000 people adjacent to each other, it made financial and demographical sense to become a unified town. With it, though, comes the upheaval of transferring town halls, re-electing mayors, assigning public employees to different departments, reallocating duties, changing addresses, designing a new flag and logo, and moving desks around. It's a bureaucratic fireworks show! With all the chaos going on, there are a lot of unknowns about how the two towns will deal with being one and I'm just a poor little ALT all caught up in the mix. The upside is that I currently have an awesome new desk.. but no supervisor. Luckily, my job and the schools I teach at are the same for now but come April Madness next year, that could change too.

Sayonara, Kamiyubetsu :(

After trekking across Hokkaido, I had two short days of unsuccessfully trying to get back into work mode before it was the sweet, sweet weekend again. A new ALT, Tim, decided to throw a party (we called Sausage Fest '09) in his Eastern town of Teshikaga - conveniently located between the Big Trio of Lake Kussharo, Lake Mashu, and Lake Akan - and had planned a hike up to the peak of Mashu-dake on Saturday afternoon. Not one to pass up a hike (even though I just finished a 4-day trek) I decided to head out to Teshikaga on Friday night with Mr. New Zealand (Simon Daly) and Nikki (from my previous roadtrip).

The hike was short and sweet compared to my Daisetsuzan hike, along a nice forest path rather than over boulders and stones. It was a 4-hour, 14km round trip around the crater rim of Lake Mashu, which is called Kamuito, or "The Lake of the Gods", in native Ainu. It's a caldera lake inside a volcanic cone with numerous signs forbidding eager tourists to enter the lake. It's also one of the deepest lakes in Japan and one of the clearest lakes in the world. It was windy but sunny and cloudless, giving us a perfect view of the mysterious, deep, blue lake. The hiking path starts on the Western edge and winds along the lake's cliff edge before ascending up to Mashu-dake that hugs the Eastern edge of the lake. From the rocky peak at 857m next to scree slopes and loose cliffs, we had a panoramic view of the lake, the surrounding countryside and lake Kussharo in the distance. Standing on the peak of a mountain gives me sense of accomplishment for the physical, and ofttimes mental, struggle to reach the peak. The reward? Being able to look down on the world and appreciate the awesome power of nature.

I love being high. I've become a mountain addict.

I wasn't really big into hiking when I lived back in Canada. In Calgary, a mere hour away from the Rockies, I only ever went to the mountains to snowboard. Since coming to Hokkaido - the outdoor mecca of Japan filled with easily accessible hills and mountain - I was immediately drawn to take up hiking as a hobby. Like my friend Eliza said, "[In a Scottish accent] I twig you like the outdoors a wee bit." I've hiked quite a few of Hokkaido's mountains over the past two summers but I had yet to tackle the biggest mountain range of them all - Daisetsuzan.

Last weekend presented us with a five-day weekend consisting of three consecutive national holidays (the Japanese really know how to celebrate), dubbed Silver Week. Taking advantage of all this free time, I signed up for a guided multi-day trek in Daisetsuzan. Our route started in a gorge on the Eastern side of the mountains and ending at an onsen town on the Western side, spanning 40km and topping numerous mountain peaks - namely Kurodake, Hakkundake, Chudake, and Kaundake. There were nine of us in my group: five ALTs, two ex-pats, one Japanese woman, and our Kiwi guide, Leon.

Loaded down with our 20kg packs, we started the trek at Sounkyo Onsen with a ropeway gondola and chairlift ride that quickly brought us up to the 8th stage. After our first taste of the spectacular early-Autumn forest colors spread out below us, we began our steep three-hour ascent to the peak of Kurodake. The night was spent at a hut thirty minutes from the peak, packed with others taking advantage of the long weekend. The sun set at early 6:00pm, taking the day's warmth with it and leaving us in the unforgiving shadows of the mountains. The night was cold and sleepless for those of us who opted to stay in tents outside rather than in the warmth of the hut. The night was crisp and clear, displaying an amazingly rare glimpse of the Milky Way splashed across the night sky. I tried, unsuccessfully, to capture the moment with my camera.. but no picture can compare to being atop a mountain and closer, however minuscule, to the stars.

We spent the next three days trekking across the mountainous high country, making our way from peak to peak, only stopping long enough to rest and take epic photos on rocky outcrops. We stayed in huts for the remaining two nights, arriving before nightfall to make dinner as the sun went down, relying on our headlamps to avoid bumping into each other in the dark. The weather decided to cooperate and greeted us with warm sunshine and cloudless skies for each days' hike. Every morning we would rise with the sun and eat a hearty breakfast of oatmeal and coffee before setting out. We trekked over 16km for two of the days, walking over barren, rocky landscapes and scraping through knee-high brush, guided constantly by the towering peak of Asahidake on our right. We dropped down into river valleys, crossed withered glaciers, climbed up dried river beds, forded streams, and scrambled over boulders, continually working towards the next distant peak.

The last day of the trek saw us leave our lake-side hut near Kaundake for the long trek out of the mountains. The gradually sloping ridgeline we followed gave panoramic views of the river valleys and Asahikawa in the distance. As we dropped below the tree-line we began to navigate through overgrown underbrush, low-hanging tree branches, mud ponds threatening to swallow our boots, and along conveniently placed boardwalks through marshy wetlands. Once we reached the forest, the hard rocks underfoot began to be replaced by soft foliage and fallen pine needles. The path broadened out and I was able to change my focus from my footing to the amazing colors of the trees overhead. We were walking through a majestic forest awash in the reds, yellows and golds of Autumn. A few kilometers from the end of the hike, we stopped for a break at a lookout platform across the canyon from the misty Hagoramo Waterfalls. After a short hour descending down steep switchbacks, we finally arrived at our destination - Tenninkyo Onsen. The dirt accumulated on our bodies from the previous four days of trekking across Hokkaido was quickly washed off in a long, relaxing soak in the onsen, bringing to an end an amazing four days experiencing the wonders of Japan's outdoors.

Check out my album for more pictures of Daisetsuzan, and check out the Japan Adventures website for info on upcoming hikes around Hokkaido.

Since coming to Hokkaido, I've had an insatiable desire to see every square inch of the island, which has led me to develop a small fascination with Hokkaido's 道の駅 (Michi-no-Eki). Translated as "Road station", or "Rest stop", they're kind of like train stations for automobiles. The usually funkily (is that a word?) designed buildings have information about the area and are complete with restrooms, a souvenir shop, a restaurant, and most importantly, Michi-no-Eki magnets.

There are 92 Michi-no-Eki's strategically placed all throughout Hokkaido, forcing one to visit the far-flung towns and regions of the island just to buy these ¥250 magnets. In some cases, there is no other reason to visit! Each of the magnets has a cartoon picture of the region's mascot or a stylistic depiction of the its main attractions. Aibetsu, for example, has a superman-esque mascot with a mushroom-shaped head and an 'A' on his chest. Ashoro is apparently famous for feet. My town is slightly more normal and has a tulip mascot in honor of our yearly Tulip Festival.

I've been able to collect 32 magnets so far on my various journeys throughout Hokkaido, and I still have a long way to go.. literally and metaphorically. This was inspired by a previous ALT - Nik - who boldly managed to collect all 92 magnets during his four years in Hokkaido. I'm determined to complete this task in two years. My goal is to collect them all as a testament to my time spent here in Japan, my devotion to see all of Hokkaido, and my slight OCD obsession with these kinds of things. My future fridges are destined to be decorated with tangible memories of the sights and sounds of Hokkaido. Wish me luck and safe travels.

My magnet collection