Before coming to Japan I had two personal goals of quenching a thirst of leisure in skiing and soaking in hot springs. This weekend I was able to do so with the generous help of friends I have made since coming. A few weeks ago I mentioned to Kobayashi-san that I had an interest in going to Nagano to ski. She said that her friend, Morita-san is a ski instructor, and goes to Nagano almost every weekend. She introduced us one night while eating dinner, and we set a date to go together. At that time I had no idea how much of a cultural experience it was going to be.
The highlight of that cultural experience was the abundance of generosity. Kobayashi-san called me two nights before we were set to leave saying that she had found ski boots, and wanted me to try them. She brought two brand new pairs of boots, and had me test them out. I said that one pair fit well, and she said that I should use them and take them back to America with me. I said that I have several pairs of boots at home, and did not need to be given boots, but she insisted that if I did not take them then they would sit around not being used. I could not say more for fear of being rude, so just thanked her profusely.
The next day, she called back telling me that three of her friends had heard that I was going skiing, and wanted to sponsor my trip. What? I could not believe the words that I was hearing. Why would someone possibly want to pay for me to go skiing when they did not even know me? It turned out that she had given them copies of a letter that I had written to her about my views on community and elderly care, and they wanted to support me in having fun. I was slightly embarrassed, and again did not know how to respond. I asked her whom I should thank, and she answered by saying that my work at the elderly home was enough.
On Friday afternoon I met Morita-san, and three of his friends to leave for our trip. We left at 6:30PM, and drove six hours to Shigakogen, which is a high mountain valley in eastern Nagano. As we drove up the mountain the snow started coming down. It got thicker and thicker until it was more than one foot deep by the time we reached the hotel where we were to stay. Ryo-san, a young man who went along with us, said that we would be skiing on the highest elevation ski area in Japan, and if it was clear we would be able to see Fuji-san from the top.
The hotel was the next shock of cultural difference. The room in which we stayed had a tatami floor and sliding paper doors. There were five futons with fluffy warm comforters atop. After we took our bags into the room, Morita-san said that we should go to the onsen. It was a natural hot spring cloudy with floating particles and smelling of sulfur. We only had to walk down stairs to go to the bath. Men of all ages were washing and soaking together in the foggy room smelling of sulfur and cedar from the walls. Ryo-san said that he works as a skiing guide in Switzerland, and one of the major differences between skiing there and in Japan is that in Japan skiing and onsen go together, but that is not true for Europe.
After the bath we went back to the room, and drank sake until three in the morning. I sat wearing Kimono with those Japanese men laughing and drinking, and telling them that yes I had seen The Last Samurai with Tom Cruise while stifling my opinions of the actor when told that I resemble him. When the sake bottle was empty we said good night, and laid down drawing the soft comforters up over our weary bodies.
Minutes later, it seemed, we were up looking out the window at a morning of falling snow. We walked down to the cafeteria for a meal of miso soup, nori, fish, tsukemono, salad, rice, and green tea, the Japanese equivalent of “a breakfast of champions.” Donning our skiwear we trudged out, bleary eyed, and excited for fresh snow. I was about to rent skis when Morita-san said that he had brought skis and poles for me to use. Again, all I could say was thank you for the abundant generosity. Each time I turned around there was someone else doing something for me, a first experience.
The trip was not only a leisure time for the other members of our group. They had come for instructor training to begin the season. They were the Kyoto members of a countrywide organization of ski instructors, and Morita-san was one of the people training everyone. There were over one hundred men and women representing a large percentage of the prefectures in Japan. I met skiers from all over Japan, and told the story of where I am from, why I came to Japan, how I met Morita-san, and where I learned to ski over and over again in Japanese.
They trained while I skied every inch of fresh powder I could find, until 3 o’clock when the Kyoto group could ski together. All of them were excellent skiers, and we tore up the slopes, as I like to say. The wind was blowing hard, and I learned the phrase in Japanese to express the experience, kaze ga tsumarei—the wind is freezing. My beard was covered with ice, and they started saying that I looked like Santa Claus instead of Tom Cruise.
At 4:30 we returned to the hotel for more onsen, and stretching. The whole group stretched together I did my best to connect what the leaders were saying to the stretches we did, but kept falling behind while trying to interpret their words. After a short time I gave up the interpretation, and just watched others to figure out what to do.
Dinner was at 6PM, and it was a huge meal of sashimi, cooked mushrooms, fish broth, greens, and onion soup, cold soba, nabe—a hotpot of meat and vegetables with udon, shrimp tempura, tsukemono, and rice. After the meal the phrase, “onaka ga ipai,” (My stomach is full.) could be heard all over the cafeteria. I carried my stomach upstairs to our room while the group had a meeting about theory of teaching skiing, thinking that I could get some work done during the meeting. I turned on the computer, started thinking about what I would write, and fell asleep sitting in front of a blank screen. It had been nearly two years since I last skied, and was completely wiped out.
At 10:30 Morita-san woke me up, saying that there was a party down in the banquet hall, and that they wanted me there. When I got down there a full cup of sake was handed to me, and I listened as each person stood up and announced their prefecture and several other things that I barely understood. After everyone had spoken, I was handed the microphone and had to tell them where I was from and what I was doing there. It was like I had to do the conversation part of my Japanese language test all over again with all the questions that I was asked. Except on this occasion people did not let my sake cup empty, so my tongue was a little more loosened up.
The next day was clear and cold. All around we could see snow-capped mountain peaks, but it was not quite clear enough to see Fuji-san. The snow was crisp and fast, making for easy skiing through shin deep powder. I skied alone all morning, and in the afternoon was asked to participate in a competition to show the training instructors how to judge different skiers. Being that I have skied for nearly as long as I could walk, I received the highest score, but was still given some tips on how to improve. One of the judges was a retired member of the Japan World Cup Ski Team, and he told me that I ski with too much pressure on my inside leg creating turns that are not as sharp as they could be. I bowed and thanked him in the traditional Japanese manner due to a sensei, a practice that is even done on the ski slope.
The day was finished up with another trip to the onsen before we packed up the car to return to Kyoto. Saying goodbye to as many people as I could, and even pushing a car out of the snow, I felt sad to leave such a wonderful place only to return to sitting in front of the computer writing for days on end to complete my portfolio on time. Even in such a short time, it was definitely one of the richest cultural experiences I have experienced in Japan, and will remain in my memory for years to come.
