THAT'S WHY I CAME

Living in rural northern Japan can sometimes get boring. And occasionally, on days when my job is less than fulfilling, I wonder why I'm here. But at other times it's great and I know exactly why I'm living in this strange land. Sunday was one of those days.

I try to snowboard a lot during winter. Just because I can. Not knowing when I'll have another snowy I'm eager to make the most of it while I can. However I usually ride with other Westerners or a mix of Westerners and Japanese. On Sunday, however, it was just me and five cool Japanese guys. And of course my brand new awesome Burton Custom X board (see previous entry).

Makoto and Souma are friends from my town. Ryuta, I met two weeks ago on a snowboard trip, and Hide and Takeshi are friends of his. We arranged to meet up Sunday morning and hit a mountain called Omoshiroyama, which literally translates as 'fun mountain'.

The 6:00am rise to drive south was well worth it. We had an wicked day on the mountain, jumping off anything and everything we could find. All those guys were as mad as me and we were a collective mass of injuries and pain by the end of the day.

But living on this volcanic, earthquake-ridden island has the beneifits of hot-springs always being within very close reach. A good soak in these healing waters and our bones are already mending and ligaments meshing back together.

Next Sunday we're hoping to do it all again on a different mountain.

LIVING

Late Sunday morning I was passing through Iwagasaki, a little town near me. I have a 'thinking place' there that I hadn't visited in quite a while.

Up a little cobblestone road is a small cemetary next to a small park alongside a small river. Always peaceful, always tranquil, always empty. It only takes five minutes to walk around the park, but the stream running through it always holds my attention for much longer.

I spent ten minutes in the park then headed back to the car with thoughts of lunch on my mind. Crossing the park that snowless damp morning I caught a scent that took me to another time. The faint aroma of burning incense gently carried over from the cemetary. It added a another dimension to the already impressive looking grounds. Damp grass, new shiny black headstones side-by-side with old grey mossy head-stones. A dark ominous sky sillouetting the large bare trees as they watched over the resting places of the dead.

I turned around and walked in to the cemetary. I admired the fresh flowers on some of the graves. An old lady in the distance silently prayed at one of the graves. I leaned against a tree and, for the first time in a long time, put things into perspective.

"Let lunch wait half an hour. Forget about rushing home to the 'important' tasks of the day. Stop planning tonight's socialising. Forget all that crap and just chill for a minute", I told myself. And, surprisingly, I did. And it felt great. It felt so good to take a time-out from all the usual tedious, unimportant nonsense occupying my mind. To take a time-out from this so-called 'life' and to actually enjoy being alive.

BURTON CUSTOM X

Bought myself a new snowboard yesterday.

If I don't blog for a while you'll know why.



http://www.burton.com/ProductDetail.aspx?pid=8

THE POWER OF MUSIC

I was having a bad day today. Teaching the kids at the Community Centre was exhausting and I already felt exhausted. After the last class one of the fifth-graders took the cover off the piano and started playing. As I was gathering my stuff together this ten tear old girl played a few short classical songs. Echoing in the empty gym over the noise of the playing kids in the hall. I was instantly uplifted and reminded of the power of live music.

ONE MILLION YEN

My friends father died recently. He then paid one million yen for his father to get in to heaven (Nirvana??). That's over four thousand pounds. I asked what people do when they don't have that kind of money. Apparently the 'price' is lower for people less wealthy. But everyone must buy a 'death name'. This is the only way to complete the cycle and enter the afterlife.
My friend doesn't believe in heaven or God and acknowledged it was more of a social obligation for him.

ENLIGHTENED?

I met these monks near the Angkor Wat on the roof of a nearby temple. This was a popular place to watch sunset from so many people had gathered. Away from the crowd, sat these two young men in their bright orange robes. As I walked past they were talking quietly between themselves, but both looked up and smiled.
A couple of minutes later I doubled back to say hello. Surprisingly both spoke excellent English so we started chatting. They were very open and friendly and before I knew it we had been chatting for an hour and completely missed the sunset. During this time other tourists were watching in surprise as we chatted in English. There was even a Korean man who asked could he listen in on our conversation. That was kind of embarrassing because we were talking about girls at the time.
We had a great talk. Of course they were interested in Ireland and Japan, but mostly I was asking them why they wanted to be monks. Curious as to why two young men (22 and 24) would choose to spend their youth in a temple and not out pursuing worldly pleasures, I politely broched the subject.
Cambodia, of course, is a developing country. In the rural regions, many families just manage to scrape together a living with their small rice farms. Big families and small stomachs are the norm. And there's never enough extra money or food for when a bad season comes along.
These young men both came from farming families in the countryside. Both have large families (8 and 9 people). All there siblings were fully devoted to farming rice with their family. No schooling and very little in the way of fun.
So these lads signed up to the temple. First they asked permission from their parents and were granted it. Although it left one less worker on the rice fields, it was also one less mouth to feed. And according to both monks their families are proud that they joined and it's seen as a good thing in the community.
Both monks were very honest and open with me and told me that their long term plans didn't involve staying in the temple. Both were hoping to get an education which could then be used to find a job. And following that a wife, family and 'normal' life. When exactly they planned on leaving the temple they didn't say, but both seemed content to be living there at the minute.

ROTTEN EGG

When I lived in Thailand I tried to live like the locals. Only problem was that the locals ate everything. So I tried too. I succeeded for most part. Granted, I enjoyed none of it, but I came home with a cocky swagger.
'Oh yeah, chicken feet, blood squares, pigeon, grass-hopper, beetle, scorpion and worms. Ate 'em all,' I would boast. With this new found confidence/arrogance I was ready to take on the world. Wallabie and kangaroo, crocodile and goat, whatever, I ate it all.
But I've been beaten and beaten bad.

On the streets of Saigon my stomach finally said no. Duck egg. But it's not egg. It's embryo, foetus, fertilised, whatever you want to call it. Disgusting is what I call it. I went for dinner with a Vietnamese friend on the streets of Ho Chi Minh City. A little portable stall was being pushed around by a lady and I was intrigued to see what she was selling. I'd heard of these eggs before and they had never appealed to me. But my pride interfered and I felt I would be a coward if I didn't at least try one.
I thought it would be peeled and bitten into whole like a boiled egg. This wasn't to be the case. My friend cracked open the top and told me I should drink the dark, bloody juice from it. I said no and she poured it on the street. Then she added some spices and fresh lime (see picture) as if that was going to help. She gave me a spoon and wished me good luck.
To be honest the taste was really nice. It was more the knowledge that I was eating a fully developed chick from head to toe that turned my belly queezy. And it also seemed cruel. But I wasn't giving up.

Two or three spoonfulls down the hatch. Then I started noticing differences in the texture. Is that wing? Head? Surely that was a foot I just chewed on. The I started looking inside the egg. God! I won't even describe it, but the unusual colours alone nearly made me barf. I managed another three or four pathetically small bites before giving up. With nearly half the chick still in the egg I thanked the lady and staggered away trying to at least be man enough to not puke iin the street.

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Note-please don't try this at home or anywhere else.

LIQUID ART

ANGKOR WHAT?

No matter how many books I read or how long I spend with a big dictionary, I'll never be able to describe the Angkor Wat and surrounding temples the way I want. Maybe words can never do it justice. And photos (especially mine) can't come close to giving you a true picture. It's just too vast, too enormous. The best I can do is to tell you, please go.

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Of the three countries I visited over Christmas, it was only in Cambodia in which I travelled alone. It was important for me to go solo for at least part of my trip, and it was essential that I travelled around the temples alone. I don't know why. Maybe just the selfishness of not wanting any compromise or to wait on anyone. Maybe I wanted thinking time. Or maybe I just have no friends. Either way, I am very glad I did it this way.

On arriving in Siem Riep I found the cheapest guesthouse I could. Two dollars a night and I think I could of haggled them down even more. This was no luxury accomodation. A shared cold water bathroom and electricity only one night out of the three I stayed. But with dozens of ancient temples and ruins only a short drive away I didn't plan on spending too much time inside.I spent two days visiting about ten of these 13th Century temples. There are dozens scattered for miles and miles around the main area of Angkor. I hired myself a tuktuk and driver for two days. Mr Ging turned out to be the best driver in all of Siem Riep (in my opinion). He'd pick me up in the morning, drive me out the the main temple area and recommend what was good to see. He knew all the famous temples, plus the ones that were good to watch sunset from, plus a whole lot more. I'd return from one of the grand temples, which have a lot of tourists, and say 'Mr Ging, too many people. You know somewhere quiet?' Ging would smile and climb onto the tuktuk's motorbike. Twenty minutes later I'd find myself walking in the jungle, some old ruins scattered here and there, not another person in sight. Ging would go to a food stall or sleep in the tuktuk or chat with one of his many girlfriends by text message.

Obviously the Angkor Wat area is impressive by all accounts and quite hard to grasp at times. But for me the most enjoyable moments where being away from the main temples. Strolling along an overgrown path, not a worry in the world and all the time I wanted. Discovering little rivers or small ruins seemingly sitting on their own. At one point I was sitting in the shade of a tree a couple of kilometres into the forest. Just enjoying some alone time and pondering the meaning of life. Actually, I think I was pondering what to have for lunch, but whatever. Then I heard a trotting noise. Along came an ox pulling a small wooden cart with a young Cambodian farmer on top. He must have passed within seven or eight feet of me, but didn't see me. I was so amazed I didn't think to take out my camera. I was taken aback because I was well off the path by now and had no idea where this guy had come from or where he was going. In fact shortly after he passed through and the forest returned to silence I questioned had anyone actually passed through or was it the effects of the mid-day sun*.

Little moments like this plus the stark contrast of these ancient dark ruins and temples silouetting a bright blue sky made the whole experience very unique.I could easily have spent five days there and would love to go back again someday.

Note*: 'mid-day sun' is not an illegal substance.

FORTUNE TELLER

I think she was a fortune teller.
In a dark nook in one of the temples.
No one else was around.
I watched from a distance.
Incense burned and she talked.
The other women listened.
Sometimes they laughed.
Sometimes they looked afraid.
There's so much I don't understand.

SUNRISE

From the plane. Bangkok to Narita

MAKING FRIENDS

Somewhere in Vietnam

I pulled over to take a picture of this guy and his ride. He signaled that it was cool to take his photo. Then waved me over to shake his hand. All the while the ox kept on walking.

The Vietnamese are possibly the friendliest people in the world.

CHEEKY RASCALS

Vietnamese kids

FISHING - VIETNAM STYLE

COMING HOME

Well I'm coming home. I recently informed my Board of Education that I shan't be recontracting for a third year. So I'll be returning to the Emerald Isle sometime around late summer. Looking forward to it.

HEALTHY JAPANESE

I just met a man. He came in to the BOE to talk to the boss. He was interested in me and in Ireland so we had a chat (via translater). Sixty-five years old, strong as an ox, fit as a fiddle, all his own teeth, still fairly white and very straight. More energy than me and a bigger smile to boot. These Japanse never cease to amaze me.

SCUBA

One reason for going to Thailand and Vietnam this Christmas was diving. However with being sick/drunk so much, I only managed to squeeze in four dives.In Ko Tao, Thailand the water was really choppy (see 'Journey From Hell' entry) so dive sites were limited. We didn't really go much below 10 or 12 metres and a lot of the reef was dead. I did however at one point get immersed in a large school of Yellow-tail Baracuda which was cool. And there were thousands of beautiful multicoloured Christmas-tree Worms growing out of the coral (see picture). These really brightened up my day.Nha Trang in Vietnam was much much better. I went on a day trip to a place called Moon Island. It was a beautiful day for it. Slightly overcast, a bit of an undercurrent, but not too choppy. There were quite a few people on the boat, but all were in training　or just snorkling. So being the only qualified diver I got a Divemaster all to myself. Nuk, from Vietnam, is possibly the most energetic, fun man I have ever met. He was awesome. Despite my hangover he quickly got me perked up for my New Years Eve dives.He knew the island real well and was able to find some amazing life under the water. Nuk knew all the right caves to peak in to and in which parts of the coral the little fishies were hiding.

Again it was pretty shallow diving, but that allowed us to stay under for nearly an hour on each dive. We seen the bizzare Shrimp Fish which always swim with their bodies vertical instead of horizonal. We seen the stangely shaped, but aptly named Trumpet Fish, as well as huge starfish, beautiful soft and hard coral and more pipe-fish than I could've imagined. Everytime I'm under the water I ask myself 'Why am I not doing this more often?' It really is a great feeling.

Me posing behind some hard coral

JOURNEY FROM HELL

WARNING: Do not read if you have just eaten.

Day 0

Start with a couple of beers in my apartment whilst packing.A friend drives me an hour to the city.Overnight bus to Narita Airport in Tokyo.

Can't sleep.Suntory whisky keeps me sane.

Day 1

Collect tickets, check in, waste time.

Board Air India direct flight to Bangkok.

Discover Air India not only has the oldest and worst planes in the world, but also the oldest and worst flight attendants.

Too tired to read, too tired to write.Tiger beer keeps me sane.

Arrive in Bangkok, taxi to Town-in-Town.Roses and a bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label waiting for me.

Old friends are great.

-Journey intermission-

Drinking, dancing and having a good time

-Intermission over-

Day 2

So far everything great.Time to do something stupid.Drink Bangkok tap water.

Dinner with friends before overnight bus South.

Food is fine, but belly acting funny.

'I'm not hungry, let me lie down for a while.'

'OK, 30 minutes we leave.'

Lie down, stomach cramps, get up, stomach softens, walk swiftly but calmly to toilet.

Oh no!Tell Thai friend 'Stomach no good, need medicine, you go.'

Time for taxi to bus station. Don't want to leave bathroom.

Thai friends coming with me in taxi to say goodbye.

Meet other Thai friend in street. 'You get medicine?'

'Yes, I have.'

Oh no! 'Where is toilet?' Points to pharmacy.

No longer calm, ass cheeks clenched, march into pharmacy.

Oh no! No toilet paper. Don't care. At least I'm wearing boxers.

Stomach empties.

Leave pharmacy. Get in taxi.

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Diarrhoea is not a taboo subject in Thailand.

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Muscles clenched.Bangkok traffic.

Oh no! Be strong.

Get to bus station. 'Bus leave 5 minutes.'

Don't care. 'Where's toilet?'

1 baht price for toilet. Don't care, would pay 1000.

Oh yes! Have tissue.

'3 please.' Lady looks surprised. I could care less.

Other toliet users see madness in my eyes and move aside.

Free cubicle. Makes me so happy.

Stomach empties again.
'Bus go now.'

'OK bye'.

Hug. They feel my cold sweat. I feel fear and dread.

No backing out now. I can do this.

Feast on medicine. Sip water.Overnight journey begins.

Sit rigid for 3 hours. Thirsty, but don't risk water.

Stop for food. No thanks.Two more hours.

Everyone sleeping. I'm very awake.

Oh no! I feel something. Something different.

Toilet on bus. Thank Buddha!

No time to thank anyone.

Push man next to me out of way. Jump down stairs. Rip open toilet door. Spew masses of vomit all over toilet, walls, sink and seat.

Smile to myself at how great it feels to have an empty stomach.

Smile to myself at how smart it was to buy 3 packs of tissues.

Merrily start cleaning puke from tiny, hot bus toilet. Flush tissues down toilet.

Oh no! Wrong country. Tissues go in bin, not toilet.

Toilet makes angry noise. Toilet floods water, puke and tissues onto floor.

I make angry noise.

Clean toilet as best I can. Tissues all finished.

Exit, exhausted and sweaty. Sit down, pass out.

Day 3

Arrive Suratthani.

Motorcyle taxi to ticket office.

Still to early.Curl up, sleep on dirty sofa for 2 hours.

Wake up, other backpackers here.Everyone wants to go to Ko Tao.

Boat hasn't ran for four days.

Too rough. Oh no!

'Maybe boat go today'. At least as far as Ko Samui.

That's no good. Brother is in Ko Tao.

'We go'. I need ticket.

Ticket office tries to scam me.Same old scam.

I tell them 'You're not getting any of my money'.

Won't let me on truck going to harbour. Some Swedes help me out.

At harbour get ticket for real price. Get on boat with nice Swedes.

Still no food, no water.

On boat, man wants two dollars for Snickers bar.

I tell him 'You're not getting any of my money'.

This place has got worse.

Choppy crossing. Choppy isn't the word. Suicidal crossing.

Hours on the boat. I'm the only one below deck. Everyone is on deck puking. I've nothing to puke. Feeling lucky.

Two girls run below and grab life jackets.

Everyone is clinging to the rails on top and puking. Everyone is miserable.

A tough looking English guy asks me in a baby voice 'Are we nearly there?'

I'm in no mood to comfort him.

Oh no! My belly.Quick, more medicine. A little water.

Oh no! Where's the toliet.

Puke. Puke. Puke.I'm puking bile, water and medicine.

There's nothing left in me.

Rest.

Oh no! I'm dry wretching. Puking fresh bile.

I'm exhausted.The toilet is angry.

Powered by the movement of the boat it is in constant flush mode.

But the waves are too big. The toliet is angry.

Every time we crash into a wave the toilet vomits sea water up into the air. It's almost comical. Certainly ironic.

I puke and duck out of the way so as not to get sprayed. It works most of the time.

There's puke on my sweater, but only toilet salt water in my hair and on my face.

I wish I'd the energy to get my camera. I don't.

I stand doubled over. Nothing left to puke. But if I stand up straight I dry wretch.

The exhaustion and weakness makes me start to feel euphoric. I can see the humour in it all. I can see the revenge of a million toilets. Sick of people puking in them, this one pukes back. I am humbled and grateful. I'm grateful that I'm puking today and not diarrhoea. That would be awful.

We make it to Ko Samui.Girls are crying, men are pale.

The boat will go on to Ko Pha Ngan and then to Ko Tao. It takes three times the usual time.

It was hell. We made it.

Exhausted I say farewell to my puking pals, the Swedes.

Get a truck to the beach little brother is staying on. He checked out.

Girl at desk tells me he left for Ko Pha Ngan, another island.

I curse him.

He has a phone.

Check-in girl pities me and gives me her mobile phone. I love this angel.

Brother is still here. Different beach.

Try to get a truck. Man wants double the price.

It's only pennies and I'm weak. I should say yes.

But I can't.

I tell him 'You're not getting any of my money'.

Nice Irish mans gives me a ride on his motorbike. I love this angel.

See little brother. It's been a year and a half.

'Great to see ya bro! Where's the bed?'

I pass out.

RANDOM

Playing Hide and Seek with Mike in Vietnam.


I win every time.

BLOODY CAVEMAN

Just received this photo from my primate days (a month ago)

BACK TO THE COLD

Happy New Year everyone.
I returned last night to Japan. Reluctantly back at work today. After my 26 days in Southeast Asia I should be refreshed and ready for work. But I'm exhausted and wishing I was still there.
I spent a week in Thailand with little brother Ronan and his mates, then two weeks in Vietnam with two American friends and then travelled alone in Cambodia. Thailand was cool, Vietnam was amazing and Cambodia was crazy. I've a bunch of photos and stories that I'll be putting up over the next couple of weeks so stay posted.

Photo: from my apartment this morning