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“I changed my mind. I give this weekend a five!! I am happy. So happy. So happy that I can't even express my feelings. There's nothing I would have rather done than wander through the inaka (countryside), take pictures on your camera phone, eat three meals (over the course of three days), and watch movies with you all night. It was fantastic and I needed a weekend JUST LIKE THAT—even more than I knew. Away from everyone I hang out with every weekend. Away from my island (so I could appreciate it more when I came back). And with a real friend with whom I could talk to about anything and “touch” until my heart's content.”

That was a slightly edited version of the thank you email I sent Peter when I got home from my weekend on his island, Takashima. So, needless to say, it was a great weekend.

After saying a quick goodbye to Kerry in Sasebo, I ran to the train station to catch the train to Imabuku. I had about 13 minutes until the train left and the next one didn’t come for another hour. I had also realized on the ferry that I didn’t bring Peter’s cell phone number either and so had no way of contacting him in case I didn’t make the train. As I was sprinting down the wharf (much to the amusement of the Japanese around me) I pulled the directions to Imabuku out of my backpack pocket just as a gust of wind caught it. It flew out of my hands and blew back down the wharf toward the water. Never have I moved so fast! I turned and sprinted back to retrieve it…quite nervous as without those directions I would have no way to contact Peter and no clue how to get where he was waiting for me. I realized then I hadn’t really even read the directions, I just printed them out and put them in my backpack. Not a safe thing to do because then I couldn’t even guess where to go. But I did safely retrieve the paper, caught a glimpse of some Japanese woman laughing at me, and continued on my run to the station. In the end I had plenty of time at the train stop, I even had a few minutes before it left, but better safe than sorry.

I studied Japanese for the 2 hour train ride and enjoyed the views of the countryside. It was so hot on that train, though. I brought a ton of warm clothes with me—layers and layers of sweaters, my rain jacket, my thickest scarf and a hat, and I had to de-robe everything the train. I worried that the mainland would be warmer than my island and I had brought all these clothes for nothing. Actually, it was just a really hot car and I did end up using all my layers during the weekend.

Peter met me at the train station in Imabuka and we wandered through some natural areas and tried reading the kanji on gravestones and signs. It is a very beautiful area, so unlike Kamigoto. Peter’s Japanese is amazing. (He recently passed the second qualification level and is working to pass the first which is even difficult for some Japanese to do.) So I admitted my coming was in part to exploit his knowledge of Japanese. We grabbed a hot bento and had lunch in the ferry port, waiting for the 1:30 ferry. There we saw one of Peter’s students too, and so began the “Is that your girlfriend?” questioning we endured all weekend. Well, Peter endured, no one asked me of course. He also saw one of his adorable kindergartners on the ferry, who is usually very outgoing and comfortable around him, but was very timid in my presence. She did eventually come up and give Peter a small origami crane, but wasn’t brave enough to give one to me so her older sister presented it to me.

Takashima is a small island, about 2,500 people, but it’s very close to the mainland so it has a totally different feel. In fact, they are currently building a bridge to the mainland, which will connect it to Saga-ken. The ferry is about 40 minutes and costs 380 yen. Incredibly cheap.

After getting the tour of Peter’s apartment we took a walk to one of Peter’s favorite spots. Passing a beach with several old ladies hunched over collecting mussels, he took me to a rocky area on the east coast of the island. An area where years of typhoon waves have shaped the volcanic rock and inadvertently made a private ledge hovering about 10 feet over the ocean. The rock is absolutely beautiful, swirled white, orange and brown, the vegetation an array of bright, deciduous greens. We laid on the smooth rock of that quiet ledge, bottling the soft sound of the ocean sloshing against the rocks below us, and enjoying the warm sun away from the windy shore.

Peter enjoying the view.

I found a little cave in the side of the rock.

Next we headed over to Oasis Village to see the Mongolian Monument and watch the sunset setting over the ocean. Oasis Village is this ghost town, originally built for tourism about 10 years ago. It never quite took off and is now a run down campground with fisherman’s garbage spreading all over the beach. It’s too bad because it’s a beautiful area and the money spent was just wasted. We walked out to the ocean’s edge just as the sun was setting and got some beautiful shots of the volcanic shore.

The sun setting.

Menacing Peter.

Not quite as menacing Peter.

The type of picture I am famous for… Peter and me—looking like a cancer patient.

Trying to convince Peter to toss me his camera phone. “I’ll catch it. I promise!” It didn’t happen.

Friday night we went out to dinner and ate two of my favorite foods: ramen and gyoza (pot stickers). It was really good ramen too—just like Kawayasu ramen, but in smaller bowls. I was very happy. That evening we watched some DVDs and ate ice cream bars. I went to bed happy and early because I had been awake since 5:30 a.m.

Saturday morning I woke up early too. I studied Japanese in bed while Peter slept in. He gave me his futon and electric blanket while he slept on the tatamis in a very thin sleeping bag. I felt guilty because he looked so cold. Saturday we went up to the Mongolian Village. So, I haven’t mentioned yet, but sometime ago when Mongols were invading China, they also invaded some of Japan. They used Takashima as their base and so they killed everyone on the island, but then the gods came to save Japan and a typhoon sunk all 300, or is it 3,000 (?) of their ships. Despite Peter explaining it to me several times, I never quite got the whole story straightened out, I just know they are very proud of this history. It’s called Monguru no Takashima because there is another island in Nagasaki-ken with the same name, but no Mongolian invasion happened there.

So we saw the little Mongolia town with replicas of their tent-homes and lots of Mongolian souvenirs in the gift shop. The place is practically dead, but Peter said when he took a friend there before it was even deader so I should consider myself lucky. They have a nice playground, some goats and horses too. I chatted with the horses for a while, they looked abandoned and needed attention. They goats only spoke Japanese so all I could say was “please come here” and when I didn’t have food they weren’t impressed. Oh! And one of the horses tried to eat my coat! He was acting a bit funny, and then he took a bite out of my sleeve. It's green, so it's understandable, but it was kind of scary. Both the coat and I were unscathed.

Peter and I played like children, hoping around on the stone pathway and banging rocks together. General destructive fun. We met some more of his students on top of this flat mound and they were playing soccer with a very flat ball. I kicked it around some with them, but they were so giggly that it didn’t last long. Then Peter and I showed each other a kata from each of our karate styles. He had been practicing for about 5 years back in Utah and has been missing it here in Japan. Our styles are very different. His is much slower and looks like Tai Chi to my inexperienced eye. He explained why his style is slower and the benefits to it, but as I’ve been practicing for 5 months and he for 5 years I couldn’t really defend mine.

We drew the attention of the boys playing soccer and they sat down to watch. It was kind of embarrassing. Then one boy came over and asked to wrestle Peter (?) and they wrestled and Peter won. I was shocked how fast he put that kid on his back. It wasn’t just a weight difference, it was technique!! Peter mentioned he was a good wrestler in high school, but I had no idea!! That was fun. He asked to wrestle others, but they jyankened (paper, rock, scissored) and the littlest guy who lost didn’t really want to wrestle so it never happened.

We had a late lunch at Peter’s favorite (or maybe just closest and therefore most convenient) restaurant. I had champon for the first time. It’s Nagasaki’s special dish so it’s about time I tried it. I wasn’t that impressed. I’d have ramen over champon any day.

Slurping down champon. A noodle, vegetable and seafood soup.

Peter enjoying his karaage (fried chicken) and chizu machi (cheese wrap).

We spent the rest of the evening watching movies and short episodes of Freaks and Geeks and other shows. I was so tired, but managed to stay awake for most of Peter’s favorite childhood movie Popeye. It was so cute to listen to Peter singing along to the musical! Peter was very tolerant of me needing my fill of human touch and didn’t complain when I fell asleep with my head in his lap… on purpose. It was great.

Sunday we decided to make curry and have an early lunch because I had to start my trip home at 12:30. I wish I got pictures because that was some damn good curry too. Between the train to Sasebo, and ferry to Goto I spent about $75 and 7.5 hours traveling. It's a long way. I was so tired I slept most the way. When I arrived in Arikawa and started driving home, I realized my island has so much to offer. I stopped off and got some groceries and I couldn't stop thinking, "This is my home. And I love it."

The last picture of Peter at the train station in Imabuku. He loves wearing this coat from his dad even though it’s much too big for him.

I had the world's biggest turnip sitting on my doorstep tonight. Koichiro was coming in the same time as I was and he said it was from Kuwahara-sensei at my school. I couldn't understand him and I thought he was saying Kohara and I didn't know who he was talking about. I worried, “Do I really not know all the teachers at my school still?” I finally I figured it out and I blame him for not pronouncing it clearly.

Okay, got to end this novel put away the groceries. Thank you Peter for a wonderful weekend! I can't wait to show you Kamigoto!
Love, Sierra

P.S.
A picture of my wonderful Mama in her apartment in Detroit. She got a new desk and wanted to show me her “workspace.” What's shocking about this picture is how it's the middle of winter and she's wearing nothing. Granted, she is on her way to soccer, but in a Japanese house in the middle of winter you wouldn't be caught dead in that outfit. Ah, the joys of central heating. Enjoy it while you can!