I just turned in my contract papers on which I circled the "I do not wish to recontract for the 2005-2006 year." Feels very strange.
The Friday before last I came here to the Kencho to get some info about a school schedule change, and after Goto-san finished the struggle on that piece of information he asked me about my intentions for next year. At the time I wasn't exactly ready to let the cat out of the bag, but what was I to do?
So I told him that no, I wouldn't be staying. He just looked at me and I wasn't sure if it was that he hadn't understood what I had said or if he was in shock. Then I remembered that in Japan when you want to say that something is a bad idea or you want to answer in the negative you often don't just say, "No, that is not a good idea." You are instead supposed to say, "Hmmmm.....perhaps that is a difficult way of going about things," and let body language and subtleties do the rest. At least this is what I read in some book before I came to Japan, since I can't speak the language I am really not sure if this is true or not. So I was thinking that instead of saying, "No, I won't be recontracting," I should have said something along the lines of, "Hmmmm.....well, I perhaps I might find it difficult to stay here." I don't know.
But anyway, I told him the truth and he said he understood, "Ah, wakarimashita." At that I figured it was over for the time being, but as I was looking at some papers I heard him say my name to Watanabe-san (my supervisor) who then came over and sat beside me. "Crap," I thought, "I only came here to get some info and now I am having to tell these people that I've made my decision and won't be back for a third year." I really hadn't prepared myself for this.
"Mah-kas," he said to me, "next year?" I just looked at him allowing him to find the English words. "You go back....America?" He looked and sounded a bit dejected and I began to feel a bit bad. But I sucked it up and told him that yes, I would be returning to the country where McDonalds and baseball had been born, only, I didn't put it quite like that. At this he looked down in a way I, in my own life, probably have a few times upon hearing those damn words, "Let's just be friends." (Maybe women learned how to break up from a Japanese handbook)
I felt a little bad about it as I knew he had wanted me to stay three years--he told the table this at one of our parties--so I told him that my time in Japan had been good and that I learned a lot but that I wanted to get back into school and do the next thing in my life. I wasn't really sure if he understood all that but I felt fairly certain that he had. Then he said, "Ok," and went back to his desk and I left the office thinking, "Damn it! I wasn't going to do that today."
So anyway, I turned in the official papers today because they are due this Friday and I have school everyday but today this week. I gave them to Goto-san since he is the one that originally gave them to me so I at least was able to avoid Watanabe about this. I really don't want to depress the guy. I know this makes a lot of extra work for them and there is always the chance they'll get some idiot that causes a lot of problems (this does happen from time to time with JETs) but in a small way I am happy to know that my leaving is causing a little sadness amongst them. Makes me feel loved.
Funny, though, how many of us JETs who are leaving seem to really have it on our minds lately. Guess that's not strange considering that it's only six months from now, but most of us will have done two years by then. This means that we are only 75% into our stay here, just starting the fourth quarter. Still some game left to go yet we are all thinking about the end. Perhaps, though, it's only because the big decision is due this week. I'm hoping that after this week we'll all just settle down and enjoy our last six months together and in Japan. Still too early to start thinking about that first Mexican dish I am going to order or about whether I'll be buying the Sierra Nevada Pale Ale or Samual Adams Boston Lager upon my return.

Ok, people, I know you've all probably put your lives on hold while you wait for the rest of my story about my trip to Hokkaido and believe me when I say, I am working on it. It's just that I'm putting in a lot of detail so it's becoming quite long and I'd rather not put it up here in disjointed chunks. I already did that with the first day and don't like the fact that I did. Anyway, I add some day by day now so don't think I've forgotten about it.
I am also working on the story about my trip to sumo with an American friend and a whole group of Japanese people. So that will also be up eventually.
But meanwhile, life goes on.

At most of my high schools (I have five) I am now in the midst of seeing the third graders for the final time. A week ago I saw one of my classes at the academy for the last time, this last Monday I saw my third grade class at Minobusan (Buddhist school) for the final time, and yesterday I spent my last moments with two classes of girls at Yuda. It's all a bit sad, really. Makes me think that July is going to be an extremely hard month to get through. Like I've told a few people, in the States when I moved, it was always a sense of "see ya later." Here it's going to be "Farewell. Have a nice life."
But anyway, I had a good final time with one of my classes yesterday. The class is made up of about 18 girls and on our way to class the teacher told me, "The students have a gift for you today." I was a little surprised as I've never gotten anything from students before--besides the odd question now and then--and I wasn't sure what to expect.
So we got to the classroom and the students had a peculiar buzz about them. I wasn't sure exactly what was going on or how this final class would be spent, but it ended up being quite nice.
After they stood, bowed, and roll was taken, the teacher asked me if I would write a short note to each student. I said sure and so we began. Each girl pulled out whatever paper she wanted the note written on and then they came up one at a time, handed me the paper, said "Onigaishimas" (for which there is no real translation, it's kind of an extremely nice "please" but that really doesn't do it justice) and then I would write a few words and sign it. Mostly I wrote simple things along the lines of, "I had a great year in your class. I always enjoyed coming here. Good luck to you in the future." To two or three of the more outgoing girls I would add something about them being fun or missing their smiling face. This class really was a good one. The girls were always nice and very respectful. Sometimes they were a little too shy and quiet but a few jokes by me would usually loosen them up.
So after I had written to them all and my hand was "in class essay" sore we took a few pictures. I had asked the week before it if would be ok to bring my camera and they had all said it would be and that they would bring theirs too. I just figured we'd take a few group shots, and that is all I got on my camera, but some of the girls wanted it to be just the two of us. This was actually amazing to me considering how shy most of them always seemed. But anyway, one girl would hand her camera (or phone) to a friend and then come and stand by me so the picture could be taken. The first girl was one of the more outgoing girls, but even she tried standing a foot away from me, so I put my arm around her and pulled her closer, an action that received a bout of laughter and a lot of red faces. Out of about 18 girls I'd say at least 12 of them came up for these pictures and around every one them I'd put my arm and they'd either shake in excitment or freeze in terror. I sometimes wonder what I look like to them.
After those pics we took some group shots so I got two of those on my camera, one with me in it and one without. And after the group shots came my present.
For this, two girls came up and stood in front of me. One of them held the goods while the other read from a paper. The note, I don't have it, went something like this, "Thank you, Mr. Marcus for teaching us one year. We enjoyed your teaching and your pictures from Hokkaido. We will not forget you. Please remember us when you return America. And good luck with your girlfriend." That last part was hilarious to me. It really is amazing how much some of the girls in my classes focus in on the fact that I have a girlfriend. "Good luck with my girlfriend".....that's funny. You might also notice that the English is good. Not perfect but quite good.
So then the other gal handed me the presents. Turns out that they pooled their money, I guess, and got me two nice little candles, the scented kind. While those are nice, though, it was the other gift that I really liked. They had taken a picture of the class, attached it to a backboard sort of thing (I'll frame it when I get to Cali) and around it they each wrote a few words to me. On top it says, "Dear Marcus Frame, 2005.1.26, Memories with you are not forgotten. Thank you." A few examples of what each student wrote are as follows: "Mr Marcus's smiling face was nice. We shall meet again. Good luck." "Your lesson is very nice. Come to my house in Nagano." "You may study together for one year. You were loved." and the cryptic "Your lesson is beri good! Rive a happr life with your girlfriend!" So you see, if Amy ever dumps me, I've got a whole troop of young gals ready to take her spot.
Anyway, was a great class and I had to catch myself from showing my emotions a time or two. Gonna miss them.

In other news, I am not sure if I ever mentioned the five year old I am now tutoring. One day I was at the local liquor store when the owner told me, "I want to ask you something." "Ok," I said, quite surprised to hear such good and natural English out of this guy's mouth from whom I'd been buying beer and sake for the last year and several months. Up to then it had always just been a few words here and there, "Potato shochu....smell bad!" Shochu is a kind of alcohol.
Anyway, he ended up asking me if I might be able to teach his five year old son some English once a week. So I said that I probably could and that after the holidays we could discuss the details. Later, when I told Amy this story she laughed. She was imagining the guy talking to his friends about the American he'd hired to teach his son English.
"So...where'd you find this guy?"
"Oh, he frequently comes into my store to buy booze."
Would this happen in America? Probably not.
So anyway, I now teach this kid on Wednesday evenings for about 45 minutes. The kid knows his ABCs but only if he says them in order.
me--"What's this letter?"
Keichiro--"a-b-c-d........E!"
me--"Right. Good. Now, what's this one?"
Keichito--"a-b-c-d-e-f-g-h-i-j-k-l-m-n-o........P!"
me--"Ok, that's enough of that. So what's your opinion on the current state of affairs in the middle east?"
Ok, I made that last part up.
Yesterday, thanks to Amy, I had a whole thing to do with him regarding a few animals. Amy made flashcards for me and we played the memory game. I tried to make him say the name of each animal as he turned each card over in search of a match. It worked about thirty percent of the time. He has monkey, dog, cat, and chicken somewhat down, but really struggles with giraffe, horse, cow, and purple throated mountain gen hummingbird. In the end he beat me. Ok, I let him win but it was close and he seemed happy. He actually celebrated by throwing his hands up in victory. Last time I go easy on him. Little fart.
So I've been to his place twice and both times I've ended up going out drinking with dad afterwards. Last week I really had no idea this would happen and about four drinks into the night and stuffed on sushi and octopus I wondered to myself, "Hey....I thought I was teaching a kid tonight, not going out partying with his father." But he wants to treat me. He said that he thinks the 2000 yen I am chargins is not enough so "We will go out to eat and drink and maybe do kareoke sometimes." Ok, man, but I do have to work the next day, you know?
I also found out that the reason his English is pretty good is because about 20 years ago he lived in Utah for three years. Went to the univerity there and everything. Has good memories and I imagine that that experiece has a lot to do with him getting his son started early on English. I am glad to help. And the free food and drinks afterwards isn't bad either.

So the basho has just ended and here's the news....
(I wrote this an then realized that I probably needed to define some terms for you even though I've probably defined them seperately before, so if you scroll down to the bottom there is a short glossery there--hope it helps)
Asashoryu managed to do it again, Yusho at 15-0. His nearest competetors, while having good showings themselves, were a long way back at 11-4. Asa just looked to be on form the entire basho. There was no stopping him. His best match came on day 13 when he faced Wakanosato and was teetering on the edge of the dohyo and some how managed to get out of it, spin around and then force Waka out. It was absolutely amazing and illustrates why he is....Mr. Yokozuna. Overall, though, it was business as usual for Asa. More interesting were the performances of some of the other rikishi.
My favorite, Hakuho, who is only 19 years old, had an outstanding basho going 11-4 from the rank of Komusubi. He will almost definately get promoted to Sekiwake for March's basho and then, depending on how he does there, might get up to Ozeki before I leave this country. It almost makes me want to stay another year to see if he can get Yokozuna while I am here. But I'll just have to figure out a way to follow this great sport from California. Hakuho is man on a charge and his sumo career should be a great one.
Kaio, you might remember, was up for promotion to Yokozuna in this basho. But it wasn't to be as he lost on the second, third, and fourth days to fall to 1-3 essentially ending his (and my)dream. Guess I won't see a Yokozuna crowned while I am here. Oh well. But that wasn't all for Kaio as on day ten he pulled out with a shoulder injury. He ended up at 4-6-5 and will likely have to work his way back up over the next couple of basho to be in contention for the coveted top rank. But this might have been it for him. Just have to wait and see.
Chiyotaikai removed his head from the chopping block just in time to see him retain his Ozeki status. He finished at 8-7, a dismal showing for him, but that 8th win guarentees he will be an Ozeki for at least the next four months. If ever hopes to get up to Yokozuna he is going to have to settle down and focus. His fighting style is predictable and his foes are figuring out how to beat him.
Tochiazuma will join Chiyo at Ozeki in March. He had a very good basho ending at 11-4. He had to get to 10 wins to get the promotion and was able to do it on day 14. After an injury plagued year in 2004 he is starting the new year out right.
Wakanosato, though, didn't fare as well. He was also a Sekiwake coming into this basho and was up for the Ozeki promotion but after going 6-9 no doubt the powers that be will writing his name in either the Sekiwake or Komosubi slot on March's banzuke. A 6-9 record leaves you open for demotion so we'll have to see what kind of mood the federation is in when they put pen to paper.
Kokkai, from the Republic of Georgia, fell one short of the eight wins all rikishi strive for leaving himself up for demotion. He was ranked at an M3 for this basho and I imagine he'll fall a slot or two for the next one. He, like Chiyo, tends to get sloppy and the others know it and use it against him. He's powerful but not very crafty.
The two other "whities" are Roho, from Russia, and Kotooshu , from Bulgaria. Roho, an M5, ended up one under at 7-8 while his taller comrade (he's about 6'7") impressed at 9-6. Roho will probably drop a spot or two while Kotooshu will move in the opposite direction from his M4 position.
So that's about it. Was a fun basho to watch. I went twice and will tell you about my days at a later time.


Basho--a 15 day sumo tournament, there are six a year falling every other month starting in January
Rikishi--a sumo wrestler
Yokozuna--the absolute top rank, once a riskishi gets here he cannot be demoted
Ozeki--the second rank
Sekiwake--the third rank
Komosubi--the fourth rank
Maegashira--the numbered ranks that begin with M1 and go down to about M17
Makuuchi--the collective term for all the ranks mentioned above, this tier is made up the top 40 or so guys
Juryo--the tier of rikishi below the Makuuchi ranks
Yusho--a basho championship
Banzuke--the rankings sheet, a new one is written out before each basho
Dohyo--the fighting surface

I will continue the story of my trip soon (I hope) but my brother informed me that I didn't write about November's basho and since the January basho started yesterday I think I'll just mention a couple points about November to update the two people out there that are actually interested in sumo.

To start the November basho we had four Ozeki (second ranking): Kaio, Chiyotaikai, Tochiazuma and Musoyama. Kaio, you might remember, won the September basho and had a chance to be promoted to the top rank and join Asashoryu at the much coveted Yokozuna status. Unfortunately for him he didn't quite live up to the standards needed to impress the powers that be. He ended up with a record 12-3 which is actually a very good one but was one shy of what the powers said he needed. What makes it all a little more depressing, too, is that on the final day of the basho he faced Asashoryu and won. So had he beat one of the three guys he lost to earlier in the basho we'd probably be looking at a new Yokozuna. But, alas, it was not to be. But we here at Sumo Fans Inc. are still quite excited about Kaio because in November he did do well enough so that in this month's basho he's still up for the promotion. He'll need at least 13 wins to do it though so he must start strong and stay strong.
For Chiyotaikai Novemeber turned out to be a bit of a bust. He finished at 7-8 and if he does so again in this basho he's likely to be demoted. Not much more to say about him other than that he needs to clean up his act and calm down when on the dohyo. He has a real tendency to get ahead of himself when charging his foe and many times ends up either on his face or in the first row of seats.
Tochiazuma had another mishap in November and somehow managed to crack a shoulder bone leaving himself on a 3-3-9 record. Three win, three losses, and nine no shows. Since he has also pulled out of September's basho with a knee (if memory serves) injury, he has been demoted to Sekiwake (the rank under Ozeki). 2004 was a dismal year for Tochiazuma in which he managed to finish only two of the six bashos. We'll see if he can make 2005 a comeback year.
And finally we have Musoyama. I think I remember writing about him after September's basho mentioning that retirement looked to be in his near future. Well, after starting November's tournament with four straight losses Musoyama pulled his own plug and respectfully retired from life as a rikishi (sumo wrestler). So long, old chap, and thanks for memories.
Kokkai, from the Republic of Georgia, had a bit of a disappointing basho in November finishing at 7-8. This allowed for a slight demotion from a Maegashira 2 to a Maegashira 3. No big deal. We'll see if he can get it back together this month.
Hakuho, who in my personal opinion will be a Yokozuna someday, sat on a ranking of M3 for September, moved up to an M1 for November and made his pressence felt going 12-3. This guy is good and even Asashoryu praised his fellow Mongolian before the basho started in November. Hakuho then thanked Asa for his kind words by handing him a defeat on day eleven. I'm telling you, Hakuho is going places in the world of sumo. Mark my words. For January's basho he now sits on a ranking of Komusubi (fourth rank).
As you might have guessed by now, Asashoryu ended up winning the basho sitting on a 13-2 record. His two losses came, as already mentioned, at the hands of Kaio and Hakuho, ironically the two guys that I think will join Asa at Yokozuna in due time. Asa's yusho (basho win) was his fifth on the year making 2004 a year to remember for the guy. And unfortunately for his competition, he is still a young 24 years of age, and was quoted in yesterday's paper saying, "I'm young, so I get stronger day by day....I plan to fight for many years to come." Words I am sure the other rikishi will have taken notice of.

On to some more sumo, 2005 style.

Well, vacation is over and the "blues" has set in. Yesterday I sat in my room wondering where the hell my two weeks off had gone. Guess that's just the way it goes. Today I sit at the Kencho.

But we did have a great time. Hokkaido was fun. And the relaxing week back here was fun.

We left for Hokkaido on the 24th in the cold and dark of 445am. Our bus was to leave from the Kofu train station at 530am and although it's normally only a 15 minute bike from my place, we had to somehow get a medium sized suitcase there with us. So I did what any American boy who can't call for a taxi in Japanese would do....I took two bungee cords and straped it to Amy's bike. Her bike has a basket on the back and I just laid the thing down on top of it and secured it on. Then I rode behind her to make sure the thing wasn't moving around. We rode slow and steady and it worked pretty well. Amy, while informing me her trials and tribulations during the ride, did quite well and we got ourselves and the suitcase to the Kencho, locked up the bikes and then walked over to the station. First mission accomplished.

The bus ride to Haneda airport in Tokyo was a nice quiet one--only 3 other people on the entire bus--but it ended up being longer than our flight to Hokkaido. It took us a little over two hours to get to the airport (Tokyo traffic) and the plane ride was an hour thirty-five. But I'll say this...After my trip to St. Kitts this last summer, nothing seems long. From the time we left the apartment to the time we grabbed our luggage in Sapporo was perhaps about eight hours and this includes everything: bike, bus, checking in, waiting for the flight, etc. Contrast that to the 50 hours it took to get me halfway around the world only to find that my suitcase wasn't there and you'll see my point. This time all went well; waits were fairly short and we arrived in time to still have half a day to screw around in our new location--not to mention that the suitcase was were it was supposed to be too.

As we approached Sapporo I noticed two things about Hokkaido: 1) it was pretty flat compared to Yamanashi, and 2) it was covered in snow. Of course, I couldn't see the entire island from my airplane but this was how it appeared to me. My brother told me that his mental image of Hokkaido was one of a rugged, mountainous region, and while parts of it do have mountains for the most part it seems fairly flat and what mountains are there are nothing like they are down here in Yamanashi. So don't think Sierra Nevadas when you think of Hokkaido. At least not where I travelled.

Here's that map again in case you are interested ( http://sunsite.tus.ac.jp/asia/japan/maps/Japan_pol96.jpg ). When I read travel narratives I like to follow the action on a map. Two of the four places we went, Sapporo and Hakodate, are on there but the other two are not. For your info Otaru is west of Sapporo by about 45 minutes. If you follow that train route, Otaru lies were the track runs along the coast and just past that very small outlet of land you might be able to see and just before that line turns south. The other town not on the map is Noboribetsu. It lies south of Sapporo where the track traces the coastline and runs southwest/northeast. There a tip down there where the coast then turns and runs northwest before curving around to go down to Hakodate. If you come up about one third of the way from that tip in a northeasterly direction from where the track seperates from the coast that is about where this town lies. I hope all this makes sense. If not, find a better map. I tried online and can't.

Anyway, after we landed and collected the suitcase we hopped a train into the city itself. This was actually quite easy as all the signs were printed in both Japanese and Romanji (or the characters you are reading here). The ride was about 30 minutes or so and it was snowing heavily with snow already stacked up on the ground and roofs. It didn't look too deep though, perhaps only about 20 to 30 centimeters (that's about 7 to 12 inches for you Americans, ha ha). We also had noticed at the airport on some digital sign that said the temperature was running at about 2 degrees C (about 35 degrees F, you Americans again--oh, why can't we get with the rest of the world and use the Centigrade scale and the Metric System? I just don't get it). And it did feel colder than what we were used to. When those train doors would open at the stops, a wave of cold hit us like a dog waking you up with his tongue on your face (ah, how I miss my Dobe).

In addition to the snow and the temperature, Amy and I were a bit more shocked to see that Hokkaido Japan didn't quite look like the mainland Japan we knew. It had a more "American" (for lack of a better way of putting it) feel. The land seemed a bit like the midwest and the roofs on the houses were quite different than in Yamanashi. Japanese roofs are actually quite beautiful down here. And I am speaking of the roofs on houses. They look artistic and "Japanese", whereas the roofs up there looked more functional and less "Japanese". They looked more like any old normal roof. Between this and the fact that we'd occasionally see a house out on a piece of land all alone with only trees and fields of snow around it we felt we were no longer in Japan. "This could be Ohio," I thought more than once. But then we'd run through a small town and see signs with Kanji and that comfortable illiteracy would hit us and we'd relax knowing that we wouldn't be expected to know anything about anything.

Which brings me to a point I'd like to tell you about. Down here in Yamanashi I think that Amy and I, in our everyday lives, are expected to know a few things. We are not exactly treated as tourists (although we aren't exactly treated as locals either). We go to the same restaurants and grocery stores and see the same people who know we don't speak Japanese but also know that they've seen us before and that we can get by ok. So I think that many of them while willing to help if we need it don't assume we need it. But up in Hokkaido I think the people assumed we were tourists and, of course, we were, but what I mean is tourists fresh from some other country, tourists that had just arrived in Japan and probably couldn't even understand a simple sumimasen (excuse me) or arigato (thanks) or biru kudasai (beer please). And in all honestly I let most of them think that way; for, it was nice to be treated as a guest (side note--I never did understand those commercials from some hotel or restaurant that would say "We treat you like family" and think it a good thing. In my family I was expected to help out with chores and when we disagreed about something we sometimes got angry and argued. That never happens when I'm treated like a guest). But anyway, I hope you see my point. Amy and I almost never mentioned to anyone that we were "from" Yamanashi. Hell, they might have expected us to carry our own luggage if we let them in on our secret.

But back to the train.

We got into Sapporo and although I had a packet of papers with the hotel name and a map of how to get there, I wanted a better map. Give me a good map and tell me where I am on that map and I can get you almost anywhere (at least in cities I can, I've never tried being dropped off in the middle of the desert and testing my abilities, although with the proper incentive and an air-conditioned all-terrain vehicle I'd certainly try) . Maps must be one of the all-time greatest human inventions. So we found the tourist information place and found the foreign language desk. I went up and talked to a kindly lady who gave me an English map of Sapporo and told me that the best way to get to my hotel was to take the subway one stop south, then change lines and go one stop west. So off we set to check in and dump the suitcase.

The Sapporo subway system was easy to use. In fact, I imagine that since I can work the Tokyo system, which is much much bigger with many more lines, I could probably work any system in this country. The Sapporo system has just three lines with maybe only ten to fifteen stops on each. So we made it to the neccessary stop, came up to street level, looked around, and spied our roughly 30-story hotel, The Prince Hotel. After maneuvering the suitcase through about two blocks of ice and snow we got to the front door where a nice Japanese guy in a hotel uniform took my suitcase and led us to the front desk so we could check in.

Now, I wasn't sure about how the check-in procedure at our four hotels would go or how difficult they would be as I wasn't too sure about English abilities (by contrast I was sure about my Japanese abilities, or lack thereof, and figured that checking in with a biru kudasai or Sumo ga suki desu ka, which means "do you like sumo?" would be a little strange). But my confidence increased greatly on that day I went to the travel agency to collect all the tickets and vouchers for this trip; for, Sakura (the agent) gave me the pack and told me that all I'd have to do is give the person at the front desk the proper voucher and they'd have all the information needed to check us in. And it did, indeed, turn out to be that easy. Sakura and I had also put them in order so that I wouldn't be confused; airline tickets to Hokkaido on top, Sapporo hotel next, three-day train passes next, Otaru hotel next, etc. I didn't have to think at all. It was great.

So we checked into our first hotel--the girl here actually did speak some English--and were shown to our room where we rejoiced that we had a place to stay for the night (all had worked out) and then headed out to find the brewery.

So back to the subway we went and about fifteen or twenty minutes later we surfaced at the nearest stop to the brewery. What was great here was that it had begun snowing while we were moling our way across the city. And I don't just mean lightly snowing I mean pouring the stuff. Lots and lots of big flakes that insulated the air and muffled the city noise and decreased visibility. Before I could really enjoy it though I had to figure out where I was, exactly, and which direction I was now facing. Most subway exits that I've encountered dump you out at intersections and figuring out which street goes in which direction can take a moment or two, especially in this country where I can't read and streets aren't always labeled. But luckliy Sapporo is a relatively new city and the streets are laid out in a grid-like fashion (very much UN-like Tokyo). And what makes it even more easy is that they label the blocks in a very user-friendly way. If you start in the middle intersection you are surrounded by blocks north 1 east 1, south 1 east 1, south 1 west 1, and north 1 west 1. So if you want to get from there to some place you know is located in the north 8 east 12 block you merely walk north 8 blocks and then east 12. No problem. This system was also handy for figuring out which direction I was facing when coming up from the subway.

So we walked about 15 minutes and directly to the brewery in the snow (pictures later). I have to admit that when I know I am going to a brewery where they brew beer that I have drunk in quantity I get kinda like a kid on the morning before his parents take him to Disneyland or some other amusement park--a bit giddy (I was like this when I visted the Sierra Nevada brewery in Chico, Ca too). Amy had to tell me to slow down a couple times cause I was walking too fast. So we finally got there and walked past the gate that gets you on to the grounds. First I noticed that there was a series of buildings but it quickly became obvious which was the main one. It was a nice looking building, reminiscent of a European style structure moreso than any Japanese buildings I've ever seen down here in Yamanashi, all red brick and quite large. The smoke stack had the familiar Sapporo red star and I knew I was in the right place.

So we found the entrance with the help of a few signs, that were also in English, by the way, and went in. The young gal behind the desk smiled and welcomed us and then said something in Japanese. I have gotten quite good at giving that look that says, "Pardon me, you cute young thing, but I don't speak your language. Did I mention you are cute?" So she pulled out a binder, flipped to some page and then turned the thing around so that Amy and I could read the instructions. They said something to the effect of, "Welcome to the Sapporo Brewery. The tour is free and starts on the fourth floor. Please take the elevator to the forth floor to begin your tour." The English was good and understandable and it went on to tell us about the tasting room and the restaurant. All very easy for us.

So we went up and began our tour. Old pictures, old bottles with old labels, dioramas of the buildings, explanations on the process of making beer, and the history of the Sapporo brewery were all on display. Most of it was in Japanese and we couldn't read a thing but I can't say I cared too much about all that. I already know how beer is made and the pictures and old bottles were labeled with years so I got enough out of it all. What I really wanted was the tasting room and the restaurant. But we walked around a bit first and took a picture or two and took it all in.

Eventually we made it down to the tasting room and got two beers and toasted our arrival in both Hokkaido and the brewery. I have to admit that there was a hint of disappointment (barely a hint) in that the brewery seems not to make a large variety of styles--not that I expected this, I was just hoping. When I went to the the Sierra Nevada brewery a few years ago I tried thirteen kinds of brew. Usually in stores around California I could only find the pale ale, stout, porter and sometimes a seasonal brew. Turns out that the brewery makes more but that they don't sell them outside of the local area (at least not at that time). So it was much to my surprise and delight to find that there was a whole new group of beers that I would be trying that day. But visting the Sapporo brewery is probably akin to going to the Coors plant--maybe, I don't actually know this as I've never been to the Coors plant. But Sapporo is one of those large breweries that makes a solid pilsner style lager and that's about it. So at the tasting room there were four kinds: the classic Sapporo, the regular Sapporo, Yebisu lager, and Yebisu stout (Yebisu is a subsidiary company of Sapporo from what I can tell). Although there were four kinds, three of them are essentially the same with only the stout being the different style.

But anyway, we had a glass each at 200 yen apiece and looked at the pictures on the wall. While we were drinking, one of the two cuties (I hope I don't sound sexist here but the Japanese always seem to find the young cute girls to work behind counters and desks when you need instructions, help, or in this case beer. Happens at the train stations' info desks, the coffee shops, the bank, everywhere) behind the bar came out and handed us two sacks that contained one large bottle of Champagne each. She said, "This is Christmas present for you," to which I thought, "Wait a sec, don't you brew beer here?" but just thanked her. They were giving them to everyone there, which wasn't that many people but enough to make the place feel somewhat alive. My other thought in getting the Champagne was that we now had to carry them back to the hotel and if we didn't drink them both tonight we'd have to carry them to Otaru, but hey, it's the thought that counts.

After our beers we found the restaurant where I would be getting what I'd been wanting for a long time: the Genghis Khan meal. I have no idea why it's named that so don't ask. All I know is that the Lonely Planet book says it's a feast and that it's all you can eat and drink for 100 minutes. When you mix the "all you can drink" part with the fact that we were at a brewery you might begin to understand my excitement. So we sat down and ordered two of these meals by pointing to the picture in the menu.

The Genghis Khan meal is a two part deal: the food and the beer. The beers you can order are all the same ones that we could get in the tasting room and the food consists of lamb, cabbage, onions, and a carrot or two. In the middle of the table is a convex heavy iron plate that sits on a burner. The edge of the plate has lips so that any juices won't spill over onto the table. When you finish ordering the waitress turns on the flame and disappears to get the goods--two platters, one with the meat, the other with the veggies. She then starts cooking for you; first some fat to grease up the plate and then a few veggies around the eges with the meat going on top.

So she cooked for about five minutes demonstrating how it all worked and then left it to us. I had a good time greasing up the iron before laying down the meat and veggies and we both enjoyed two and a half platters of meat and two of the veggies. Amy even managed to drink a few beers rather than her normal sipping one or drinks all evening. I lost count on my own intake. All in all it was a great feast and I will always remember my Xmas eve meal of 2004.

After we glutted our stomachs with food and saturated our blood with beer we paid and walked out into the still snowing evening. We did the obligatory run through the gift shop (always the true Americans) and then it was a stumble, mostly for Amy, back to the subway and a ride to our hotel.

But the night was still young and after we dropped off the Champagne we headed out to find the Xmas lights. I had heard about these and had seen a couple pictures in various brochures and figured it might be worth a stroll. I wasn't sure where the lights would be so on the way out of the hotel I stopped by the front desk and pointed to one of the pictures in a brouchure and asked where it was. The lady then indicated on my map where it was--merely a few blocks away--and we set off.

Once there we walked along the edge of the block wide and perhaps 5 blocks long park and looked at the lights, watched children playing in the snow, and made our way towards the Sapporo TV Tower (which looks a hell of a lot like the Tokyo Tower, which looks a hell of a lot like the Eiffel Tower, which looks a hell of a lot like a large skeleton of a monster depending on your vantage point and how much you've had to drink). Once there we thought about going up in the tower but then thought better of it considering that our room was on the 19th floor of our hotel and how much better would the view actually be? Probably not worth the fifteen or so dollars it would have cost us to get up there. Besides, we both have been up in the Tokyo tower, not to mention that I've also been up in the Eiffel Tower, the CN Tower, the Washington Monument, the St. Louis Arch, the Seattle Space Needle, and I used to climb trees all the time when I was a boy.

So we settled for a glass of water (for the girl) and a beer (for me) under the tower and then slowly made our way back to the hotel where we decided that perhaps we weren't quite high enough (double meaning here, folks, pay attention) just yet and had another drink on the top floor of our hotel overlooking the park we had just walked through. The bar was quite nice and fancy and I felt like I was in some Bond flick and might have to make a quick jump out the window to get away from some group of henchmen where I would luckily fall into a truck bed full of futons and simply brush myself off and catch the next subway out of there. Or maybe that was just the martini I was drinking.

We never did make it to the Champagne.

I will write about the rest of my trip at a later date. Kencho time is about done for the day.