Twenty-one months. That’s how long I’ve been living in Gifu. Hard to believe, and hard to count. It’s such a random number. More than a year and a half, but not quite two years. When people ask me now how long I’ve been here, I take my time answering. It probably seems like I’m lying or something.
Part of the reason I decided not to stay another year here was because I’ve felt it becoming too familiar. Not that there’s anything wrong with getting used to a place. In fact, I stayed a second year precisely because I wanted to get to that familiar stage with Gifu. But there are different levels of familiarity. And staying a third year seemed like a way of settling, in a place where I don’t want to settle… at least not now.
Last week I discovered what’s already become one of my favorite websites, matadortravel.com.
One of their articles (http://thetravelersnotebook.com/how-to/how-to-travel-at-home/)has articulated a lot of the things I haven’t been able to describe so far. How travel lets you be present in the moment, opens your eyes to every tiny detail around you, and gives you new perspectives on the world, people and yourself.
My first year in Japan went by in a blur of frantic sightseeing, new friends, parties, weekend trips, karaoke and mild homesickness. Year Two started out with some new responsibilities and a resolve to make the most of my final year here. Mostly, it’s been pleasant feeling more settled and competent than last year. But there were definitely periods when I felt I had fallen into a rut. It’s much more frustrating to be in a rut when you’re overseas than in your home country. There’s the added pressure of feeling like you should be enjoying this rare opportunity. Of course, as the article above describes, there are ways to drag yourself out of said rut.
With my remaining time here quickly diminishing, I’m trying to see and do all the things that I meant to but never got around to (I know, good luck to me). Like ride my bike to Gifu city and back. This ended up being one of my most memorable evenings in Japan. I’d always assumed it was too far, or too hard to find the way, but it was only a 40-minute ride, following the train line. Staring out the train window on my way to Gifu, I’d always felt the urge to bike through the rice fields between K-town and Gifu. The roads were so flat, so unobstructed. As wide open a space as you’re ever likely to get in Japan. So I set off, one springy evening after work. Keeping Tower 43 in my sights, I pedaled up and down hills, over streams, through tunnels and past rice fields. It really gave me a new perspective on the area, and I sensed a different vibe to Gifu. Travelling by train, it had always felt that my journey from K-town to Gifu was a country-to-city trip. But now it was more of an adventure between towns.
The way back was even better. I’d bought some donuts in Gifu station with the intention of eating them at home. The sun was setting behind me and the moon rose in front of me. It started out a faint pink color and as it climbed higher, it became redder and more visible. I stopped by the river to eat my donuts and admire the view. Everything seemed fresh and full of possibilities, more so because it was finally spring and the trees were sprouting new leaves.
You see the most affecting things when you’re not looking for them. I came across what I thought was the best view of the night- the moon through some cherry blossoms. The air was balmy and sweet with spring. A river was burbling nearby and insects were chirping. Real picture-book stuff. Further up, I saw that the stream was lined with more cherry trees in bloom, with small red and pink lanterns glowing amongst the trees. The unbelievable thing was that the area was absolutely deserted. It looked like the perfect setting for a hanami festival, but not a soul was in sight. I was touched by the fact that this spot had been decorated, almost like a form of nature-worship. Not necessarily for the benefit of the hoardes coming to admire it; just because it was spring and the blossoms were out and the world was alive once again. I almost felt like there were spirits of some sort (ancestors, river sprites?) admiring the spot along with me.
For once, I was glad I didn’t have my camera. Photos wouldn’t have done the experience justice, and there are times when a camera can be too much of a filter between you and reality. I’m grateful I got to see, hear and feel it all, completely unobstructed.
Showing posts with label spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spring. Show all posts
Monday, April 27, 2009
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Midori
I just had a very green weekend. No, I didn’t save the environment, but I appreciated it. For someone from Australia – currently drought-stricken and dry as a bone – Japan is incredibly, unbelievably green. It almost looks neon in some places. Especially now, with spring in full swing. Even my friend Julie, from Canada, insists that Japan’s green is much more vibrant than Canada’s green. Forget Ireland! My own town in Gifu is green(ish), and pretty in some places. But this past weekend I saw what are surely three of Japan’s most beautiful places.
First, there was Shirakawa-go: home of the world-heritage-listed gassho houses. (Which, as I described in a earlier blog, look like gingerbread cottage houses.) It was my second trip up there; last time I went in autumn. I really think it is best viewed in spring, although I’m sure the village looks amazing after a fresh snow fall too. Anyway, it was a typical rainy spring day when we arrived. There were fresh leaves and newly-blooming flowers everywhere.
I know it’s a cliché, but there’s really something about drops of water on foliage that makes me feel so clean and refreshed.
Sleeping next to the window that night in my friend’s house, I fell asleep to the sounds of frogs and trickling water… nature’s lullaby!
On Sunday we drove up to Kanazawa, near the Sea of Japan. We visited Kenroku-en Garden, considered one of Japan’s top three gardens. It’s supposed to encapsulate six ideal qualities: spaciousness, seclusion, air of antiquity, ingenuity, flowing water, and views. Not being a Zen scholar, I’m not sure I can comment on all that, but it sure was exquisite. And, of course, intensely green.
Finally, we stopped at Eihei-ji, which has been Japan’s most active Zen meditation monastery for over 400 years. It was maybe the most beautiful place I’ve seen in Japan so far. The ancient trees, moss, ferns, mist and dim light all came together to create an atmosphere like something out of Lord of the Rings. We arrived at the end of the day, so my three friends and I had it all to ourselves.
From afar, Japan tends to be viewed as somewhat of an urban wasteland (albeit an obsessively clean, orderly one). Despite the face that I live in the inaka (countryside), I still get this impression. Every square inch seems to be occupied in some way- by a house, rice field, shrine, vending machine, combini, train station... But this weekend reminded me that landscapes don’t have to be undisturbed to be beautiful. I'm not the first to say that the Japanese are experts at working with nature to create beautiful spaces.
First, there was Shirakawa-go: home of the world-heritage-listed gassho houses. (Which, as I described in a earlier blog, look like gingerbread cottage houses.) It was my second trip up there; last time I went in autumn. I really think it is best viewed in spring, although I’m sure the village looks amazing after a fresh snow fall too. Anyway, it was a typical rainy spring day when we arrived. There were fresh leaves and newly-blooming flowers everywhere.
I know it’s a cliché, but there’s really something about drops of water on foliage that makes me feel so clean and refreshed.
Sleeping next to the window that night in my friend’s house, I fell asleep to the sounds of frogs and trickling water… nature’s lullaby!
On Sunday we drove up to Kanazawa, near the Sea of Japan. We visited Kenroku-en Garden, considered one of Japan’s top three gardens. It’s supposed to encapsulate six ideal qualities: spaciousness, seclusion, air of antiquity, ingenuity, flowing water, and views. Not being a Zen scholar, I’m not sure I can comment on all that, but it sure was exquisite. And, of course, intensely green.
Finally, we stopped at Eihei-ji, which has been Japan’s most active Zen meditation monastery for over 400 years. It was maybe the most beautiful place I’ve seen in Japan so far. The ancient trees, moss, ferns, mist and dim light all came together to create an atmosphere like something out of Lord of the Rings. We arrived at the end of the day, so my three friends and I had it all to ourselves.
From afar, Japan tends to be viewed as somewhat of an urban wasteland (albeit an obsessively clean, orderly one). Despite the face that I live in the inaka (countryside), I still get this impression. Every square inch seems to be occupied in some way- by a house, rice field, shrine, vending machine, combini, train station... But this weekend reminded me that landscapes don’t have to be undisturbed to be beautiful. I'm not the first to say that the Japanese are experts at working with nature to create beautiful spaces.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Season of Change
April really is a time for new beginnings in Japan. We go on and on about the New Year back home, but it pales in significance compared to what is effectively the New Year in Japan- April 1st. (The New Year in Australia is particularly uneventful given that at least half the urban population is lying on the beach for the whole first half of January!)
April in Japan is the beginning of the new school year, the new fiscal year for the government, the new work year, and the season of sakura. Most companies have one big intake of new employees per year- in April. I’ve heard that this really puts the pressure on new university graduates as far as job-hunting goes, because they only have one chance per year- if they are not successful for April entry to a company, that’s their opportunity gone for that year.
To add to all this, Japan has a monopoly on ‘new beginnings’ symbolism- the importance of sakura here really cannot be overemphasized. I was talking with another teacher the other day about new school years and she said that Japan will never change its school/work year schedule because people feel that graduation and commencement ceremonies just would not be the same without sakura around. In March, clothing stores start to sell outfits meant specifically for wearing to the numerous ceremonies that take place around this time. Without fail, the displays will incorporate faux sakura. My local mall has a special sakura indoor ‘park’- some park benches and fake grass under the branches of some erstaz cherry trees. Ironically, the real thing is only a 5 minute drive away. But it just goes to show how important it is for Japanese people to be surrounded by as much sakura as possible during late March and early April! Cherry blossom season is such a big deal that I see it as the reason why Easter has never taken off here. True, Japan isn't a Christian country, but that hasn’t stopped them flogging Christmas for all it’s worth. So I was a little surprised that I didn’t see an emergence of bunnies/chicks/eggs/tulip decorations in stores during March (just like I saw an abundance of Halloween decorations in October and Christmas trinkets in December). But now I realize that the national sakura obsession means there’s no room for anything else!
With the approach of the new school year, there have been lots of changes at work. Firstly, every year on a certain day in March, teachers are informed of their placements for the next year. They have just over two weeks until they will be teaching at their new school. Teachers seem to have little control over where they work- the prefectural (state) Board of Education shuffles them around every few years. It almost seems like they are in the military in that sense; theoretically a teacher could be moved to any school in the prefecture, and if that happens to be far away, they might have to uproot their whole family to go work at whatever school the bigwigs have chosen. The average stay for a teacher in one school is three years, but the more experienced they are, the longer they tend to stay. Younger teachers tend to be placed in more rural (ie. less desirable) areas.
A grand total of 17 teachers (out of 40) were transferred from my school in March. This is the biggest staff change-over in school lore. One of the transferred teachers was one of my favourite JTEs(Japanese Teacher of English), Yamada-sensei. He was a very warmhearted guy who was so kind that he had a hard time even telling students off for using cell phones in class. (This of course caused problems of its own – the students walked all over him - but he was a very nice man). No one wanted him to leave, least of all him. He was transferred from our school (a so-called ‘Super English School’ because it has a special English program), with 12 English staff, to a technical high school (focusing on electronics) with only 4 English teachers. Sounded like a demotion to me! At the farewell party, Yamada-sensei told me and the other ALT (with tears in his eyes!) that we were the best ALTs he’d ever worked with, and made us promise to visit him if we ever returned to Japan after JET.
Another of my favourite JTEs, Hiramitsu-sensei (the one who invited me over for seafood feasts) retired. She’s an incredibly youthful woman who vows to spend her retirement mastering the saxophone, doing Yoga, reading and traveling.
With the departure of 17 teachers came the arrival of 17 new teachers from various schools around Gifu prefecture. Plus a new principal, who has turned out to be very friendly and superb at English (almost native level!). Such comings and goings are officially marked by school closing and opening ceremonies... which are less than 2 weeks apart. And which, from my perspective, were practically identical: a ridiculous amount of standing, bowing, sitting, and a few speeches (of which I understood only a few words). Unlike elementary and junior high ceremonies, some of which I hear involve talent-show-esque performances by teachers in an attempt to win over the students, senior high ceremonies are dull affairs indeed. The opening ceremony actually felt a lot like church to me, minus the music (unless you count the school song), gilded robes (everyone wears a black suit)and stained-glass windows (it was held in the gym).
Closing ceremony of 2007 school year, March- saying farewell to the teachers who have been transferred. Had me on the edge of my seat.
Opening ceremony of 2008 school year, April- welcoming the new teachers. Wow, so drastically different to anything I'd ever experienced before. I had no idea what was coming next.
The other big new-year-related change is the annual desk migration. About half the desks in my staff room now have ‘strangers’ sitting at them. We ALTs seem to remain eternally banished to the back corner of the staff room, but my supervisor was moved to a staff room in another building. Well, she's now my ex-supervisor. As of April 1 I have a new supervisor, who's a new teacher that I’ve barely spoken three words to. I don’t even know which office he’s in! I simply heard by word-of-mouth that he’s my new supervisor; we have never been introduced. I suppose I should have figured out by now that if I want to know something, I have to ask, because it’s rare for my colleagues to approach me with information. In Japan especially, I think there is the attitude that unless it's absolutely necessary, giving information is intruding or imposing in some way. Having said that, what I liked about my old supervisor was her approachability and willingness to keep me informed of things. I just have a feeling that my new supervisor might be a little lacking in that department.
Anyway, good, bad, or neutral, I'll adapt. After all, as the sakura tell us, nothing endures, everything is transient.
April in Japan is the beginning of the new school year, the new fiscal year for the government, the new work year, and the season of sakura. Most companies have one big intake of new employees per year- in April. I’ve heard that this really puts the pressure on new university graduates as far as job-hunting goes, because they only have one chance per year- if they are not successful for April entry to a company, that’s their opportunity gone for that year.
To add to all this, Japan has a monopoly on ‘new beginnings’ symbolism- the importance of sakura here really cannot be overemphasized. I was talking with another teacher the other day about new school years and she said that Japan will never change its school/work year schedule because people feel that graduation and commencement ceremonies just would not be the same without sakura around. In March, clothing stores start to sell outfits meant specifically for wearing to the numerous ceremonies that take place around this time. Without fail, the displays will incorporate faux sakura. My local mall has a special sakura indoor ‘park’- some park benches and fake grass under the branches of some erstaz cherry trees. Ironically, the real thing is only a 5 minute drive away. But it just goes to show how important it is for Japanese people to be surrounded by as much sakura as possible during late March and early April! Cherry blossom season is such a big deal that I see it as the reason why Easter has never taken off here. True, Japan isn't a Christian country, but that hasn’t stopped them flogging Christmas for all it’s worth. So I was a little surprised that I didn’t see an emergence of bunnies/chicks/eggs/tulip decorations in stores during March (just like I saw an abundance of Halloween decorations in October and Christmas trinkets in December). But now I realize that the national sakura obsession means there’s no room for anything else!
With the approach of the new school year, there have been lots of changes at work. Firstly, every year on a certain day in March, teachers are informed of their placements for the next year. They have just over two weeks until they will be teaching at their new school. Teachers seem to have little control over where they work- the prefectural (state) Board of Education shuffles them around every few years. It almost seems like they are in the military in that sense; theoretically a teacher could be moved to any school in the prefecture, and if that happens to be far away, they might have to uproot their whole family to go work at whatever school the bigwigs have chosen. The average stay for a teacher in one school is three years, but the more experienced they are, the longer they tend to stay. Younger teachers tend to be placed in more rural (ie. less desirable) areas.
A grand total of 17 teachers (out of 40) were transferred from my school in March. This is the biggest staff change-over in school lore. One of the transferred teachers was one of my favourite JTEs(Japanese Teacher of English), Yamada-sensei. He was a very warmhearted guy who was so kind that he had a hard time even telling students off for using cell phones in class. (This of course caused problems of its own – the students walked all over him - but he was a very nice man). No one wanted him to leave, least of all him. He was transferred from our school (a so-called ‘Super English School’ because it has a special English program), with 12 English staff, to a technical high school (focusing on electronics) with only 4 English teachers. Sounded like a demotion to me! At the farewell party, Yamada-sensei told me and the other ALT (with tears in his eyes!) that we were the best ALTs he’d ever worked with, and made us promise to visit him if we ever returned to Japan after JET.
Another of my favourite JTEs, Hiramitsu-sensei (the one who invited me over for seafood feasts) retired. She’s an incredibly youthful woman who vows to spend her retirement mastering the saxophone, doing Yoga, reading and traveling.
With the departure of 17 teachers came the arrival of 17 new teachers from various schools around Gifu prefecture. Plus a new principal, who has turned out to be very friendly and superb at English (almost native level!). Such comings and goings are officially marked by school closing and opening ceremonies... which are less than 2 weeks apart. And which, from my perspective, were practically identical: a ridiculous amount of standing, bowing, sitting, and a few speeches (of which I understood only a few words). Unlike elementary and junior high ceremonies, some of which I hear involve talent-show-esque performances by teachers in an attempt to win over the students, senior high ceremonies are dull affairs indeed. The opening ceremony actually felt a lot like church to me, minus the music (unless you count the school song), gilded robes (everyone wears a black suit)and stained-glass windows (it was held in the gym).
Closing ceremony of 2007 school year, March- saying farewell to the teachers who have been transferred. Had me on the edge of my seat.
Opening ceremony of 2008 school year, April- welcoming the new teachers. Wow, so drastically different to anything I'd ever experienced before. I had no idea what was coming next.
The other big new-year-related change is the annual desk migration. About half the desks in my staff room now have ‘strangers’ sitting at them. We ALTs seem to remain eternally banished to the back corner of the staff room, but my supervisor was moved to a staff room in another building. Well, she's now my ex-supervisor. As of April 1 I have a new supervisor, who's a new teacher that I’ve barely spoken three words to. I don’t even know which office he’s in! I simply heard by word-of-mouth that he’s my new supervisor; we have never been introduced. I suppose I should have figured out by now that if I want to know something, I have to ask, because it’s rare for my colleagues to approach me with information. In Japan especially, I think there is the attitude that unless it's absolutely necessary, giving information is intruding or imposing in some way. Having said that, what I liked about my old supervisor was her approachability and willingness to keep me informed of things. I just have a feeling that my new supervisor might be a little lacking in that department.
Anyway, good, bad, or neutral, I'll adapt. After all, as the sakura tell us, nothing endures, everything is transient.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Saturday In The Park... and Monday By The River
On the weekend I went for my first sakura (cherry blossom )hanami (flower viewing) session. A few friends and I decided to venture down to Nagoya, which, being slightly further south, is a little further along in the sakura blossom stakes. I was assured of that last week when I checked out somewhat bizarre, yet strangely touching 'cherry blossom front report' at the Japan Meterological Agency's website: http://www.jma.go.jp/jma/en/News/sakura3.html
Before arriving at the park, I envisioned a huge expanse of green lawn dotted with cherry trees and groups of people sitting under them. Reality was a little different. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, but the 'lawn lounging' I was anticipating turned out to be more like a 'crouching-in-the-garden-beds' scenario.
This wasn't simply due to lack of space, but because Japanese public parks always seem to incorporate more concrete walkways than grass. Nevertheless, there were plenty of cherry trees and you can never fault sakura for their beauty.
Now that I've had a bit of time to think about it, what really strikes me about hanami is what it reveals about the Japanese culture and mindset. Plenty has been written about Japan's reverence for the natural world and how this is reflected in Japanese art, fashion, music, ceremonies, religious beliefs, and numerous other cultural practices. But this awe of nature was so much more apparent on a personal level on Saturday. People of all ages and all societal demographics were there; young families with chidren, wannabe yakuza, older couples, suited-up salarymen and office ladies attending the company hanami party; even a few men who might have been homeless. All there to absorb the spring atmosphere and appreciate one of nature's most beautiful displays. And the expressions on some of the people as they walked down paths under a canopy of petals were like something out of a Disney movie- there is no other word to describe it but awe; faces upturned, mouths half-open, eyes lit up.
And like I say, these were people of all ages - not just children. You have to admire a society that encourages that kind of unselfconscious appreciation of nature.
I think it also comes out in the Japanese fixation with kawaii (cute). Although this is mainly the domain of high school girls, the appreciation for cuteness apparently knows no boundaries in Japan: I remember seeing a construction worker with a tough-guy expression using a mobile phone with a teddy-bear keyring dangling off it. Almost every company here has at least one cartoon-character mascot that features in its advertising, logos and signs. For example, my bank's corporate image is based on Tom and Jerry. They're on the cover of my bankbook. The epitome of cuteness here in Japan is little furry animals, and it's not uncommon to see a full grown man taking a small toy-poodle-type dog (dressed in a skirt, t-shirt and 'hair'/fur clips) for a walk.
But I digress. Today I took in some more hanami- in my own town. The sakura here are possibly Gifu's best-kept cherry-blossom secret. The Sakae river, which runs through this town, is lined with cherry trees. When the trees are blooming, they create a canopy over the river. When you walk down the path next to the river, it really is - to quote my colleague - "like another world"...
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Spring Has Sprung
Spring has come to southern Gifu, and the signs are everywhere.
I think I was premature in my last post in saying that I will never again be surprised by anything in Japan . At the plum festival, we witnessed for the first time a very Japanese custom. The seasonal photo model. A Japanese ‘maiden’ (actually she was probably in her thirties) wearing a ‘Spring’ outfit was posing for photographers amongst the plum trees. And when I say posing, I mean it. The expressions on their faces were the fixed, vacant, spacey smile of housewives in 1950s magazine ads. There was a crowd of male photographers gathered in front of her taking pictures.
1. It's warmer- finally! No more huddling in front of the heater, no more wearing my ski jacket on the way to school, no more frozen puddles to slip on when making my way into the school building. It's amazing how the body adapts to temperature though- I feel positively warm now that it's just above 15 degrees outside. When that hit me back in October, I was shivering my ass off!
2. Flower blossoms are out.
Last Sunday I went to a plum（ume, うめ、梅）blossom festival in Gifu city (at Baiorin Koen, or ‘Violin Park’, no less). It was just a small park but filled with lots and lots of plum trees. Apparently plum flowers are the first to bloom of all the fruit trees here in Japan, and while they are not quite as delicately beautiful as cherry blossoms (sakura, さくら, 桜 － the blossoms most favored by the Japanese, which won’t emerge until the end of March), they are still a very nice treat for the senses after winter. The park smelled like spring and there were plenty of Japanese families out enjoying their first ‘official’ taste of spring for the year.
Last Sunday I went to a plum（ume, うめ、梅）blossom festival in Gifu city (at Baiorin Koen, or ‘Violin Park’, no less). It was just a small park but filled with lots and lots of plum trees. Apparently plum flowers are the first to bloom of all the fruit trees here in Japan, and while they are not quite as delicately beautiful as cherry blossoms (sakura, さくら, 桜 － the blossoms most favored by the Japanese, which won’t emerge until the end of March), they are still a very nice treat for the senses after winter. The park smelled like spring and there were plenty of Japanese families out enjoying their first ‘official’ taste of spring for the year.
Seasons here are generally welcomed in very prescribed ways- through festivals focusing on something representing the natural beauty of that season. And I have to say that of all the seasons, spring is the one I’ve been looking forward to most.
I think I was premature in my last post in saying that I will never again be surprised by anything in Japan . At the plum festival, we witnessed for the first time a very Japanese custom. The seasonal photo model. A Japanese ‘maiden’ (actually she was probably in her thirties) wearing a ‘Spring’ outfit was posing for photographers amongst the plum trees. And when I say posing, I mean it. The expressions on their faces were the fixed, vacant, spacey smile of housewives in 1950s magazine ads. There was a crowd of male photographers gathered in front of her taking pictures.
We found the whole situation hilarious and kind of bizarre. So we decided to copy her, in an ironic way, of course. Julie was braver than me, and it wasn’t long before a couple of the photographers had made their way over to where we were to take photos of this ‘gaijin sakura girl’! (Not that this was anything new to us; every time we go to a festival, someone will inevitably take a photo or three of us, without our permission and with no attempt to be discreet.)
3. Following on from the blossom theme, shops and department stores have brought out their spring merchandise. That is, you can now purchase an array of very realistic plastic sprigs of cherry and plum blossoms, beautiful sakura writing paper, postcards featuring cute furry animals frolicking among flowers, and blossom-covered dishware. And if you stop by a combini (convenience store), you can literally taste spring- in the form of a sakura-flavored Kit Kat!
4. Starting this week, at 5pm every day, my neighbourhood is treated to the sweet notes of ‘Sakura’, possibly Japan ’s most famous traditional Japanese folk song. You’d probably recognize it if you heard it.
http://classic-midi.com/midi_player/uta/uta_sakura.htm
Cherry blossoms, cherry blossoms/Blanketing the countryside/As far as you can see./Is it a mist, or clouds?/Fragrant in the morning sun./Cherry blossoms, cherry blossoms/Flowers in full bloom./Cherry blossoms, cherry blossoms/Across the Spring sky/As far as you can see./Is it a mist, or clouds?/Fragrant in the air./Come now, come/Let’s look, at last!
I knew about this tradition of playing a special song – either the official town song, or a seasonal tune - over the loudspeakers in towns all over Japan , but until now, I hadn’t heard it in Kakamigahara. As corny as it sounds, it does stir the heartstrings- I look forward to hearing it again this afternoon! Am I turning Japanese?!
5. It’s ‘dust storm’ season in East Asia .
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/asia-pacific/7274718.stm
From late February to April, huge dust clouds from the Gobi Desert in China blow over to the east and collect pollution as they go, carrying it to Korea and Japan . When I first heard about this, I thought it was just another example of Japanese xenophobia (Chinese dust causes illness in Japanese!), but maybe I need to be less cynical because apparently it’s a real phenomenon. Gifu isn’t spared- over the past week I’ve noticed thick haze in the air and last night riding home I could feel and smell that the air wasn’t clear. All of this has meant an increase in the proportion of people wearing white surgical masks as they go about their business here in Japan . (In case you didn’t know, it is a Japanese custom to wear white masks covering their mouth and nose - like the ones surgeons or very very sick people wear – when they have a cold or allergies. Sometimes it makes you feel like bird flu has actually broken out here.)
While I can’t deny that Melbourne’s mild climate is nice (well, except for the drought!), I can’t help but feel that we are missing out on something by not having four distinct seasons. By Australian standards, Melbourne is ‘European’, so they say, but being so mild, we don’t get to experience the burst of spring after the relative hibernation of winter. So it’s a novelty to be here in Gifu and to experience my first full northern hemisphere calendar year and all the seasonal changes that come with it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
