This Whole Time I Used a Blanket as a Towel

Yes, you read that correctly.

Do you ever struggle understanding yourself? I do. I could esoterically ramble about discovering my life's purpose, contemplate my place in this complex universe, or ponder post-JET career plans. Or I can just shake my head at the ridiculous realization that I used a blanket as a towel.

In my defense, the blanket's blanketness was a toss-up; it could go both ways. I felt the material: Yeah, it could work. Of course after I showered--washing the day's grime off of me--I realized it wasn't the most absorbable material. But nothing else I received from the hostel qualified as a towel (it didn't dawn on me until today that towels weren't provided but were an additional cost). So I merrily and ignorantly carried along for three days until I figured I blundered. Classic Will.

Enough about blanket-towels. I am in Nagasaki now staying at Casa Noda but how did I get he...

!!!PROMOTIONAL TANGENT!!!

Looking to tour Japan? Do you have your eyes set on Kyushu, Japan's second most populous island home to such great delights as natural hot springs, beautiful beaches, a rich cultural history, and an international hotspot? Why don't you come to Nagasaki? And while you are in Nagasaki, why don't you stay at the Casa Noda?

The Casa Noda is an affordable hostel situated right alongside the bay just feet/meters/a stone's throw/an African swallow's short flight from the port and train station. The staff are friendly and helpful and speak English fluently so don't worry about the language barrier. The lodging is comfortable; blankets are provided! As for the guests, they come from all over the globe. Make new friends, enjoy stimulating conversations: the possibilities are only limited by your willingness to exert yourself.

In all seriousness, I have enjoyed my stay here and plan to stay here in a few weeks when I am in Nagasaki for another--you guessed it--orientation. In the few days I have stayed here, I made a new friend from Taiwan and chatted with a fellow Northwesterner, a cyclist from Portland presently teaching English in Korea. The staff are incredibly kind and have answered every question I could possibly throw at them.

I came to Nagasaki because, believe it or not, I had three days paid leave which I had to use before the end of August. I know--I haven't worked a whole lot since arriving at the tail-end of July but in truth I am just doing what I am told. Thus I am here enjoying the sites, sounds, and smells of the international hub of Nagasaki. From my island home one can either take the jetfoil or ferry: the jetfoil saves time but costs more money while the ferry is a great money saver but takes about four hours. Because I am waiting for my first paycheck, I took the ferry on Friday and arrived mid-afternoon. I immediately checked into my hostel where I met a new friend.

KC is from Taiwan. He was touring Kyushu for a week vacation. We met at Casa Noda and began talking about cool subjects like the Spurs (he noticed my hat), our Japan experiences, and politics. He kindly showed me around Nagasaki including summitting Mt. Inasa where we witnessed a spectacular night view of the thriving city below. We ate dinner at a traditional Japanese restaurant and later had a few beers and an incredible second dinner at an izakaya next door to the hostel. I was impressed by his kindness, knowledge, and incredible intellect. He is well-versed and well-spoken on a variety of topics; it was a pleasure just listening to what he had to say. And all this was a result of a chance encounter. The next morning when he was preparing to return to Taiwan he offered to put me up for a few days should I choose to visit. If he is serious, I may just take him up on that offer. Thank you KC!!!

The next day I went to Dejima, an old neigbhoorhood of Nagasaki presently undergoing restoration. Dejima was an artificial island founded in 1634 to host Portuguese merchants living in Japan. When all foreigners except the Dutch were kicked out of Japan during the country's national isolation, the Dutch moved in and established Nagasaki as a thriving international port. Hardships to the Netherlands' maritime empire and the collapse of the Tokugawa Shogunate (and the period of national isolation) resulted in the Dutch leaving Dejima and so it fell into disrepair. Recently the city government launched an excavation and restoration project which is presently in the works. I am glad they are doing so because Dejima is a unique anomaly of Japanese and world history. For as much as the Dutch influenced Japan and later the country's emergence onto the international stage, Japanese products spread throughout Asia and even Europe on the ships of the vast Dutch fleet. Dejima is an iconic symbol to the diffusion of cultures and ideas between Europe and Japan in the 17th-18th centuries before the Meiji Restoration.

A Dutch cannon which sunk in the harbor but was recently recovered.

Dejima's "Main Street"

Later that afternoon I met up with some ALT friends for lunch. I attempted to eat the largest lunch in my personal history but failed in the effort. We explored Nagasaki together, played some video games back at a friend's abode because it was way too hot, and then enjoyed an incredible dinner and more than a few rounds of drinks later that night. It was a spontaneous but enjoyable afternoon and evening that proved preferable to touring humid Nagasaki alone! I didn't realize it would be so easy to make friends here; I am incredibly grateful for that. Friendship continues to prove crucial to the ease of my transition to Japan life. Huzzah!

This dish consists of hamburger, fried pork with curry, rice, and spaghetti. I thought I could finish it. In my defense I had a very light breakfast!

I want to back up my reflecting a few days ago to last Tuesday, however. As I may have mentioned in my last post, Tuesday was a big day: not only was I giving my self introduction or jikoshokai to Sakiyama Junior High, my base school, but I was saying it on the 71st anniversary of the atomic bomb dropping on Nagasaki.

I was nervous. The timing just happened to work out that way: most students and teachers aren't around in summer. The memorial was the one day where EVERYONE would be present at school other than the first day of school of course. It made sense to just lump both activities together, but that didn't really calm my nerves. A short speech about how my name is Will and I'm from Washington State--yeah, not D.C.--and I like poker is followed by a ceremony commemorating a tragic moment in human history. Yikes.

The speech went well (at least as well as could be expected). I received a lot of blank stares from the students when I first spoke in English. I still received blank stares when I next spoke in Japanese. No doubt my American accent was as thick as molasses! However my co-workers encouraged me with smiles and a huge round of applause. I said what I needed to be said. The day could continue.

The ceremony was about an hour and a half long and included speeches and a presentation by students. We (well, I mumbled) also sang a really beautiful song memorializing the victims of the atomic bomb dropping. Interestingly enough the presentation by some students included a brief summary of world history since the end of WWII. Though I understood very little of the morning's proceedings and had to be briefed afterwards by a co-worker, I approved of the history bit. It shows the Japanese are as interested and attuned to world history as they are their own. On a day where the Japanese could rightfully think about themselves, they humbly acknowledged the tragedies of the Korean War, Vietnam, crises in Africa, 9/11, the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq, among other calamities.

There was a brief moment of silence followed by a siren at precisely 11:02am, the exact moment when the bomb fell on the people of Nagasaki. In the U.S. we typically sit in absolute silence when remembering lost lives. I was thus surprised when out of seemingly nowhere a siren pierced my brief few seconds of meditation. It sounded like an air raid warning, a warning many Japanese became accustomed to seventy-one years ago as the war came to a bloody conclusion. Was this the sound the Hiroshima and Nagasaki victims heard years ago on August 6th and 9th respectively? Were they braced for another fire raid or bomb strike? Did they even know a plane hovered above them? It is immensely sobering to ponder.

Fast-forward to yesterday morning and afternoon: I toured Nagasaki Peace Park and later the Atomic Bomb Museum. The Peace Park is beautiful but a bit of a tourist trap: hundreds of people swarm throughout the park disturbing the serenity I expected to find here (of course it is summer, Obon Week, and peak travel season). What I like about the Peace Park is that it contains memorial statues and sculptures from countries some of which don't exist anymore like Czechoslovakia and the USSR. The main attraction, the statue of a seemingly Westernized Buddha, symbolizes a desire for world peace, harmony, and a prayer that nuclear weapons may never be used again.

The Museum was very solemn by comparison and moving. Whoever designed it did an exceptional job. Many of the signs and videos include an English translation which I found very helpful. I was compelled to visit because I wanted to hear the Japanese take on this tragedy. In the U.S. we consider the bombs to be a necessary evil, a painful means to quickly ending a painful war. I have no desire to wade into arguing whether the use of nuclear weapons against Japan was truly necessary or not; to paraphrase one survivor, I fail to think of any words that can possibly describe or analyze this horrific moment in human history. I can only express the conviction felt by the people of Nagasaki: that nuclear weapons never be used again. Furthermore, I hope nuclear technology can be closely monitored and perhaps even ended one day. The Museum also documented the numerous nuclear accidents that have occurred since the technology was developed. Since hearing about Fukushima a few years ago and learning about Hanford's leak in my own state of Washington, I have always regarded nuclear technology with caution. The Museum only confirmed my reservations and has now made me a strong opponent of this absurdly dangerous technology. Indeed this is now one of my stronger convictions.

I returned from Nagasaki a few hours ago after riding the ferry back to Gotō. I have tomorrow off to get some cleaning done, relax, and study. I return to school Wednesday. The countdown until the first day of school begins...