The Many Faces of Akita (Ari)

When I first arrived in the Akita Prefecture, I ended up staying with my parents by Lake Tazawa, the deepest lake in all of Japan. It was quite beautiful, as it was nestled amongst the green mountains dotted with hot springs, and neighbored a historical Samurai village, Kakunodate. Of course I was bewitched by this place’s renowned natural and historical beauty, but what caught my attention in particular was the mascots. Everywhere I looked, I could find chibi art of Namahage and Akita Inus, so I simply assumed that these were the prefectural mascots. 

The most adorable mountain god to ever terrify children.

I really believe that this should be the mascot--I mean, the dog breed even has "Akita" in its name.

However, prefectures generally only have one official mascot, so I decided to research which was the official one and discovered that it was a. . . Cedar tree? 

The actual mascot.

As one can imagine, I was sorely disappointed. I suppose it makes sense, though. Cedar trees are everywhere here.

This was my first step in understanding what Akita is all about. A few days ago, I passed by the Akita prefectural hall to find a large sign above the building that had “nda” scribbled across it like splatters of paint, and I could help but giggle at the sight. Akita is infamous for its thick, unintelligible dialect -- a dialect so impossible to understand that even native Japanese speakers cannot understand it. I first experienced this when an old woman was asking for my help (I think) at a bus station about a week ago. If you have ever seen Finding Nemo, when Squirt tries to instruct Marlin and Dory, and Marlin says, in a sort of anxious confusion, “He’s trying to speak to me -- I know it!”, then you probably understand what I experienced. Of course I wanted to assist this poor little old woman, but first I had to decipher through her peculiar Japanese code to understand what she wanted. I still feel guilty. But I suppose that is why Akita’s dialect is the butt of everyone’s jokes -- it is nice that even the prefectural hall can take the time to laugh at itself.

But even with all of its natural beauty, its scrumptious rice, and its amusingly enigmatic dialect, I have found that what I love the most about Akita is its people. While I was in Tokyo, I often was given demonizing stares and treated as a burden. But here in Akita, I am treated as a welcomed guest. Here, people will help you if you are lost, and you do not have to feel embarrassed asking a stranger a question like I have felt elsewhere. People here are kind and forgiving. They treat me like I am human, and I am extremely grateful for it.

Bonus picture: Namahage night mask, because prefectural pride is important.

Historical Artifacts Museum (Ari)

I ended up at the Satake Historical Museum mostly via a happy accident. Last Sunday, my flower arranging class was on a field trip to downtown Akita for a flower arranging exhibition. We all took a bus at eleven in the morning, and when we were finished at one in the afternoon, I was allowed to remain in downtown Akita and explore the city. I asked my professor for directions to the museum, but that was a challenge, since I had forgotten the name (Akita has many museums), I was feeling fairly uncertain with her directions. She assured me to simply keep walking past the lotus garden, up the hill, to Senshu Park, and it would be somewhere near the castle. I picked the second museum I found in that area and hope that I was right. 

Well, luckily, it turns out I was right. Trust your intuition, kids.

The museum was a stark contrast to the surrounding castles and shrines, with its boxed shape and concrete exterior. It had a small garden at the front, and a few memorial stone tablets and statues outside.

The memorial stone tablet. Cool, right?

The statue and museum were in dedication to Satake Yoshinobu, the man who lost to Tokugawa Ieyasu in the battle of Sekigahara and, as the loser of this battle, was forced to move to what is presently known as Akita. The museum’s artifacts were all related to Satake. (See below)

Senshu Park in itself is quite beautiful, and after I had explored the museum, I ventured through the various nature paths and shrines. It was a beautiful day to do it, and I will probably remember that day for the rest of my life. (Bonus picture: Shrine of my favorite Kami, Inari. Inari is the goddess (although she is worshipped as a man in the regions south of Tohoku) of rice, foxes, and fertility in general. Of all the Kami in Japan, she has the most shrines dedicated to her.)

Bonus picture: Shirne of my favorite kami, Inari. Inari is the goddess (although worshiped as a man in the regions south of Tohoku) of  rice, foxes, and fertility in general. Of all the kami in Japan, she has the most shrines dedicated to her.

My Little Mind Map (Ari)

Despite Akita’s rural situation, there are still so many places that I yearn to explore. AIU’s campus in itself is full of many hidden wonders -- I am always surprised with how many new nature trails I keep running into, and how many wild animals I have met in passing.

I met this little guy at the front door of the student center. Don't worry -- he was by no means aggressive.

A Japanese friend of mine took me here. It's a sacred natural well that neighbors a Shinto shrine. I hope to return here one day.

I have also familiarized myself with the Aeon (pronounced as “eon”) a little too well. After all, it is the easiest point to access when traveling by bus. Everything I could possibly want and need is there, so it is a good place to run errands. Sometimes, when I know that the bus that returns to campus is a ways off, I find a good spot to sit back and people watch. It’s enjoyable to observe what people are wearing, doing, saying, and buying.

So far, I have been to downtown Akita a total of two times. Every Sunday, there is a free bus that goes from the Aeon mall to the Akita train station. This train station is the heart of the my own map. Facing the. . . south, I believe? . . . is a variety of shops and restaurants, meeting a river swarmed with lotus flowers at the map’s edge. I have only driven by this river, but I long to see it and its lotuses again.

Currently, my preferred destination is a small ramen shop, no farther than a block or two from the train station. I happened upon this place purely by chance -- some former friends and I were looking for dinner before going to karaoke, and we chose this humble, inexpensive eatery. It was only until today, when I tagged along with a few Japanese friends, that I found out that this place was locally famous. I would like to visit that place at least once a week. Who knows, maybe the chefs will start to recognize me. 

Home to the best fried rice and ramen I will ever taste in my entire life.

Last Week in America (Ari)

In that one week between the intensive 8-week Japanese course at the Center for Language Studies (CLS) and my journey to Japan, I attempted to partake in as many “American” activities as I possibly could. You can see them in the pictures -- I went to Taco Bell, since there is only one in Japan. That was a relative success. The other activities were comically hopeless. My parents took me to Broadway to see a magic show one night. I took the time to enjoy New York City, my home away from home, but for dinner, I was staring longingly at the ramen shop across the street from our sad little vegan restaurant. And when we reached Times Square, I was instantly lured to the Sanrio shop. I guess that “American” activities have never really been a favored pastime of mine.

And yet, even as I got on the plane to Narita International Airport, it still never occurred to me that I will soon be in Japan. I’ve longed for this day for years. It started when I was in second grade, and we took an entire quarter of the school year to learn about Japan and Japanese culture. Ever since then, I begged my dad to take me there, and for many varying reasons, I never had the actual opportunity. To me, Japan was always a distant, magical land where my dreams would come to life. Of course I know now that Japan is by no means perfect, and every moment abroad will not be that of pure euphoria, but these things make me wonder… What if my dreams are crushed? What if I’m ostracized because I’m foreign? What if my language skills are insufficient? What if my roommate treats me poorly? What if I don’t get the classes I wanted? What if my classes are too difficult and/or stressful? What if I don’t make any friends?

What happens if I start to pine for home?

I remember a few years ago, when I first went to study abroad. It was in Costa Rica, where I was to learn to do field work with monkeys. The country and the food were beautiful, but the academics were too stressful, and it was impossible to relate to my classmates, with whom I was forced to spend time with 24/7. I had a mental breakdown and had to be sent home three weeks early. Now I am not suggesting that I have not grown and changed since all those years ago, and that I cannot handle the stress of new experiences and potential isolation, but that summer in Costa Rica still haunts me.

I do not want Japan to be everything I hoped for. I just want to be happy.