Yamagata Zao

Conor and Dylan, and what's left of the Ice Monsters, March 2012

This is a great place for families. We stayed at the Zao Astraea hotel, which practically sits on the Yokokura Slope, on the far side of the resort. It's well situated next to a series of short lifts that lead to the big gondola, or rope way, that takes you to the summit where you'll find a whole mess of Juhyo, the area's famous ice-covered monster trees. It's because of these monsters that this resort draws busloads of tourists, and they don't need to be carrying skis or a snowboard to gain entry to the top, and in fact it's those folks who get to go to the front of the line. So in a way we were lucky that by the time we made it to Zao, the second weekend in March, the scenery was past its prime, there were few tourists about and not that many skiers either. No waiting for the rope way from Juhyo Kogen station, or any other lift for that matter.

In photos, the Juhyo look pretty incredible, like something out of Lord of the Rings, all lumpy and twisted and hunched. In person, having shaken off some of the snow, the trees still looked pretty cool and Tolkien like. Doesn't this one (below) look like a wizard in a white cloak?

 

How they form: extremely wet snow from the Sea of Japan is carried by the Siberian jetstream over the Asahi Range, where it is compressed and cooled, turning into particle ice, which then slams into the central Ou Range and glues itself on to these Aomori fir trees. What we didn't see:

The boys were not that impressed with the summit until we pointed out the Jizo statue, buried up to its neck in snow, the tip of his sceptre poking out next to the offering box. If you pat the head of a Jizo, does it bring you good luck?

The same Jizo in summer:

From the top there we skied the Zangezaka Juhyogen course, and ended up doing a stretch of moguls that turned out to be part of a black diamond run - a first for the boys.

The other side of the resort had some decent runs as well. We found a ski school for Conor and Dylan at the Zao Base lodge Jupeer, next to the Uenodai Slope (marked No. 5 on the resort map). Their instructor, Yoshida, whom we called Yoshi-san, spoke excellent English, though we paid a premium for that - 15,000 yen for 2 hours, private.

Before he could get started, though, he had to coax them out of this ice cave.

To get to Zao, we took a JR train from Ebisu to Omiya (40 min on either the Saikyo or Shonan-Shinjuku line) then transferred to a shinkansen on the Tsubasa line. From Omiya to Yamagata takes about 2 hr., 15 min., and you stop at Fukushima along the way (the city, not the troubled nuclear power plant). Here's what looks like a taxi waiting area outside Fukushima station:

After arriving at Yamagata station, you can take a coach bus directly to the resort, only 980 yen per adult, 490 yen per child for the 30- to 40-min journey. Take the East Exit to bus shelter No. 1, and a guy in uniform will put your luggage in the cargo hold and point you to the ticket office. (I'm sure this was way more comfortable not to mention cheaper than if the four of us had tried to cram into a not-quite-big-enough Japanese taxi.) The bus dropped us at the Zao Onsen bus terminal, a small place with restrooms and vending machines and an info desk. We called the Astraea hotel, and somebody sent a van to collect us and take us 5 min. further down the road.

 Killing time at the bus station

We slept in Western style beds - four singles in one spacious room - and our package deal - 21,800 yen per adult, 15,900 yen per child - covered the room for one night, lunch and dinner on the Saturday, breakfast on Sunday, 4 hot coffee tickets redeemable at any restaurant on the mountain, and lift tickets for 2 days.

Dinner was Japanese Cuisine 101: tuna and salmon sashimi with shredded daikon and chiso leaf; broiled eel in a brown sauce glaze, stick of ginger root lying on top; cold soba noodles swimming in sweet soy with rings of green onion; fatty slices of raw pork on a bed of cabbage, ready for boiling in the shabu-shabu pot placed in the middle of the table; a basic white fish and shrimp, fried tempura-style; and plenty of pickles and white rice. The boys would only eat the pork shabu-shabu and rice, so Terry and I let them have at it, as there were enough other dishes to go around.

And then there was the onsen. I'm sure there are more traditional onsen to visit in the area - the resort is called Zao Onsen after all - but our hotel had its own, and it was more than suitable (I'll never forget the ladies kneeling by the famous but tiny village bath in Nozawa Onsen, using plastic basins to do the required pre-soak cleansing, as there was no place else to go - these hotel onsen really spoil you, with their individual shower stalls with big bottles of shampoo and body soap). Anyway, ahhhhhh... there's nothing like soaking sore muscles in a mineral bath after a day of skiing. That's something we'll surely miss once we leave Japan. (Funny, you get used to the nudity - women are with women, men with men, so it's no biggie.) Bathers had two options: a basic rectangular pool facing a big picture window with mountain view, late afternoon sun streaming in; or the pool lined with big rocks, exposed to the open air, also facing the sunshine. I chose that one, because it put me within an arm's reach of the snow and the trees (there was some fencing for privacy, but if you stood up you could see a parking lot). Usually these baths are way too hot for me, but the rocky one, steaming against the chill of the outdoors, was manageable.


Hotel Astraea 
Tel: 023-694-9603
info@aoastraea.com
Note: Only few on staff speak limited English; best to have Japanese speaker make contact.
Zao Onsen Tourism Association Tel: 023-694-9328
Zao Ski School at Jupeer, Uenodai slope, Tel: 023-694-9381, English language lessons available

Tip for viewing the ice monsters: If you're not staying at Hotel Astraea and are coming from Yamagata station by car, you can park near the Zao Sanroku lift station, marked No. 1 on the resort map, and take that up to the Juhyo Kogen station, and on to the summit from there.

one year on

Today is the anniversary of the Great East Japan earthquake and tsunami and subsequent nuclear disaster, a series of events that began with a big jolt at precisely 2:46pm. Conor, who was 10 at the time, huddled under a table in his classroom in Tokyo to wait out the shakes. He says he'll always remember that as "a moment of pure terror."

We are in Tohoku this weekend, skiing, in Yamagata, west of Sendai, far from the coast that still bears so many reminders of the tsunami's destruction. The resort is called Zao, and it's famous for its mountainside of trees that turn into "ice monsters" for a couple months every winter. We are too late to see them in peak form. In late January-early Feb they were entirely covered in snow, but now they're not. Branches and pine needles are visible, but it's all fantastic as far as we're concerned. We just feel lucky to be here.

It's a shame that the name Tohoku has become synonymous with so much suffering and loss: some 20,000 people dead, another 340,000 people displaced. According to this article, 263 fishing ports were destroyed. It will be several years before these communities come back, if they come back at all. For a good summary of where things stand and the difficulties going forward, read this article in The Japan Times.

Today, for us, Tohoku is a place where the four of us can be together as a family, and a reminder that we should never take anything for granted, least of all each other.

catch and eat

At Zauo Fishing Boat Cafe in Shinjuku, you fish for your food, with hooks and lines. When you've nabbed one from the tank (it's not very deep) the waiter takes your catch into the kitchen and a few minutes later, you have a plate of sashimi or fried fish in front of you.

What does it say about us that we laughed when we noticed the recently filleted sea bream (snapper?) was still moving, right there on the plate, just the bones and a head and fins, and were not at all put off by it. The fish was feeling no pain, Terry said, and I had no reason to doubt him.

Zauo Fishing Boat Cafe is located at 3-2-9 Nishi-Shinjuku, Shinjuku, inside the Washington Hotel, 1st Floor. Tel: 03-3343-6622

sage advice from savvy business traveler

Email from my husband to my brother who's coming to Tokyo next week from New York:

The [Narita express train from the airport] splits at Tokyo, with half of the cars bound for Yokohama (south) and half for Shinjuku (north), so you can take the N'EX 30 (or the 32 or the 34) and get off at Shibuya or Shinagawa.  Just go to the counter and tell them Shibuya and they'll give you a seat in a car going to Shibuya - just make sure you sit the designated one (it'll say on the ticket and the clerk will helpfully / painstakingly point it out).  You can pay with a credit card.


But really either station is fine - it's not that far to the Westin from Shinagawa, although it will be more than 1,000 yen.  It could be more from Shibuya as well, so you should take out money at the airport (if you forget you can use a credit card, by the way).  Just say "Card-o OK?" and look apologetic.  If they say bakka gaijin that means that they are welcoming you to their country with open arms and hoping to see you in their cab again soon.


But I do recommend you at least consider the bus.  I understand and agree with you about trains versus buses.  But you're not getting on a crusty Gray Line bus from JFK to the Port Authority, with some obese dude noisily eating a bag of Doritos in the corner.  You'll be boarding a gleaming Friendly Limousine Bus where a 75-pound girl will smilingly lug your bag from curb to cargo hold, and you'll be taken directly to your hotel.  No muss, no fuss.

When you can't shovel mud...

... or help rebuild a damaged house, because you're only in town for 36 hours and you have children with you, there are other ways to help in areas still struggling to recover from the effects of the worst tsunami in Japan's recorded history: you can shop, and you can eat. It's not much, but it's something.

Earlier this month I traveled to Tohoku with two friends and their daughters, and though there was value in our going, in a community outreach/relationship building sort of way, it was slightly embarrassing to watch volunteers head off in work boots to install floors and insulation while we were preparing to visit some ladies who make jewelry.

You have to play to your strengths, though. We weren't construction workers, we were consumers. We could spend our money in the local shops, support the local merchants, eat in local restaurants. Pump some cash into the local economy. So that's what we did, every chance we got.

Friday night we bought crackers and biscuits, soup mix and salad dressings from a miso shop run by the Takoisago family in Watanoha. They had lost many relatives, neighbors and friends in the tsunami, and were working to bring back their business. Best purchase there: a just-sweet-enough miso version of the Rice Krispie treat:


That night we ate at Chikuzen, which means "Virtuous Bamboo," also in Watanoha, and it was so good we went back on Saturday night too. It had the usual izakaya fare: katsu-don, tempura, yakitori and sashimi, all delicious. The restaurant was pretty full the first night, moderately busy the next.

Before heading up to Funakoshi to see the ladies on Saturday, we stopped in at Matsumura sports, one of the first stores to reopen in downtown Ishinomaki after March 11. They are a good source of T-shirts designed and sold expressly to raise funds for the cause. In fact, the 'It's Not Just Mud' house where we were staying had a hand-drawn map marking the store's location taped up in the breakfast room, next to some sample 'Never-Forget' themed tees hanging from the door frame. Of course we were gonna go buy some.

We found the shop well stocked with football and rugby jerseys, boots, and other gear, in addition to a full range of T-shirts. Covering the walls were photographs and notes of support and encouragement and thanks, presumably to/from neighbors and volunteers that helped clear the streets and get things going again. The ladies in the shop were super friendly and polite, digging through boxes to find our sizes and chatting with Julia who can banter a bit in Japanese.

At Homac, a big-box "home amenities" store much like The Home Depot, we picked up a dozen seat cushions to replace the thin floor coverings around INJM's dining room table.

And nobody was more excited than me to discover Eclair, a pretty French bakery surrounded by vacant lots and construction sites.

Here we loaded up on chocolate bread and almond croissants, some for Anna at INJM and some for our 5-hr return trip to Tokyo.

 

Read more about our trip, and It's Not Just Mud, one of many NPOs working in Ishinomaki, here.

the Funakoshi ladies

Last Saturday, Julia drove a few of us up to Funakoshi, a fishing village on the Tohoku coast, in Miyagi prefecture north of Onagawa, that was all but wiped out by the March 11 tsunami. A half dozen Or so local women have been meeting in the primary school building, on the third floor, where a wall clock is stuck at 3:23 pm and space heaters provide the only warmth, to make charms and necklaces out of bits of rubble- specifically Ogatsu stone, a beautiful slate, scavenged from among the village ruins. The pieces, hand painted and decorated with beads or braided yarn, are being sold to raise money for the rebuilding of the community. One of the ladies' sons also helps out. He painted the hawk on the necklace I chose for Dylan.

We spent a few hours there - the girls painting a few of the stones and, from what I could see, bringing some good cheer to the group. KT and I were on yarn duty - tying and plaiting the strands that were to hold the stone pendants. I never did quite get the knots to twist properly.

I was a much more successful shopper, purchasing quite a few of the finished pieces with the intention to sell them at triple the price to our friends in Tokyo and return all funds to the ladies. (I decided to sell most of them to myself - and to give them as gifts, etc.) Julia had been up to Funakoshi once before this, and she reupped her stash.

There's real revenue potential here, that's clear; lots of orders have come in, thanks to some publicity and support from the Ishinomaki NPO 'It's Not Just Mud' (see previous post). But the ladies haven't been aggressive about the pricing, and production averages around 20-30 pieces a day. So we're talking small scale. Still, what's going on in this place,  I think, is more about community preservation and morale. About sticking together, and being proactive. I should mention that all local children who attended the school where they meet have been relocated - on March 11, Funakoshi, pop. 350, only lost 9 of their residents.

I took this picture of Julia and her daughter Maegan from outside the school-turned-community center, which is behind me:


Me standing in front of the entrance to the school


Inside the school, peering out a third-story window, from where we sat with the ladies on tatami mats and ate lunch. Most of the buildings that had been destroyed by the tsunami have been torn down, lots cleared of debris. It's a start. (Apparently the plan is to rebuild the village on higher ground - behind the school there is a hill, and the structures there seem OK.)



 Ladies turning pieces of roof tile into art:



Quittin' time, around 4pm







 

To get to Funakoshi from Ishinomaki, where we were staying, we headed north then east, following the Kitakami river, then turned south to Ogatsu then back north, along twisting mountain roads.  I hope I get back there some day.

road trip to the Tohoku coast

Caught a ride up to Ishinomaki with friends Julia and KT and their 10- and 11-year-old daughters last weekend, to see how we might help out in some way with the ongoing recovery. The fine folks at 'It's Not Just Mud' put us up for two nights, in their house (base camp) in Watanoha, a suburb east of Ishinomaki city, in Miyagi prefecture. (INJM is a volunteer nonprofit organization founded by a 26-year-old Brit who quit his day job to assist the recovery effort full time - watch a short BBC News report about him here: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-asia-16377120 )

When we arrived late Friday evening, Anna Swain, American volunteer extraordinaire (she's been living and working in Ishinomaki since May 2011) was there to welcome us and sort us out. She directed us to our sleeping quarters, a tatami room on the ground floor across the hall from another tatami room where INJM volunteers gathered for meals. In this communal dining room, there was a long low table with cushions around it, a sort of makeshift kotatsu - traditional Japanese setup where there's a heat source under the table, and a tablecloth down to the floor, covering your crisscrossed legs, only in the case here, INJM had a space heater and air hose pumping heat under the skirt. If you weren't around that table, you were freezing, unless of course you kept your puffy jacket, hat, gloves and long johns on...

Anna explained that none of the homes in the area - among the hardest hit by the March 11, 2011 Great Japan earthquake/tsunami - had heat. Japanese homes are typically poorly insulated (if they're insulated at all) and this winter had been particularly brutal.

The good news is, there is power, so electric blankets can make all the difference. Several weeks ago Anna posted an appeal on Facebook asking her 400+ friends to send some, and, amazingly, many have done so, ordering them from Amazon.co.jp. She waits until she has 20 or 30 or 50 in hand, then distributes them among residents of a particular neighborhood or temporary housing development in need. Nobody would accept one otherwise.

By the way, anyone can donate an electric blanket, and it's not too late - spring does not come early on the northeast coast, like it does in Tokyo. Here's how to do it:

Go to Amazon.co.jp (click "view page in English" to make this easier) search for product "NA-013K" and that should bring up a single size electric blanket for 3,600 yen (about $45).

Buy and ship to:
It's Not Just Mud
c/o Anna Swain
Postal Code 986-2135
74-5 Sakaeda, Ishinomaki-shi
Miyagi-ken (Prefecture)
Tel: 0423667572

Amazon.co.jp did not recognize me as an existing customer because my account is with Amazon.com. But I was able to make the purchase on Amazon.co.jp using my U.S. credit card and billing address without a problem. 

Do it!

Here's me with Anna (in the pink hat) outside the INJM house. We've all just signed the door and we're saying goodbye. Send her some blankets!

More about what we did that weekend in my next post...

'Spectacular ukiyo-e imagination!'

Last chance (!!) to see the Kuniyoshi exhibit at the Mori Arts Center Gallery, on the 52nd floor of the Roppongi Hills Mori Tower. Show ends Feb. 12th.



Utagawa Kuniyoshi, (1797-1861) was one of the last great ukiyo-e masters. He's know for some delightfully strange woodblock prints, featuring cats in yukata, toads, samurai wrestling with fish, and my personal favorite (see poster above) entitled, "At first glance he looks very fierce, but he is really a nice person," first printed in 1845.

Click here for a sneak peek.

I feel sorry for Jou-Jou

What's going on with this ramshackle house? Is a hoarder living there? Poor 'Jou-Jou Bar & Foods', such a great little hangout, right next door to an eyesore and fire hazard, though it seems to vanish after dark (at least I've never seem any lights on).


Jou-Jou is located at 5-1-32 Hiroo, Shibuya-ku, just off Meiji-dori on the north side past the Eneos gas station. If you're heading east toward Tengenji-bashi, it's where you turn left for the Hiroo shopping street (Homework's, Smash Hits, etc.). The bartender is good with the cocktails - hand sculpts the ice to order with a pick and everything. Nice food too. Tiny place though.

a stroll down Meiji-dori in Hiroo...

reminds me that I should be working as a freelance copywriter.

Cocktails are for Kids! Please take a look at the wine list that I designed. Wine goes better with food, your body and takes you to beautiful places!


Bar Drunky, where all cocktails are 1,000 yen


You and the Night and the JAZZ

 
We use only Fresh Pork. We want to share our smile with you! 

bunny on the bus

One fine day in December I was riding a city bus bound for Shibuya, having just dropped the kids at school, and what do I see on the seat in front of me? A guy with a rabbit in his lap. (I love this town.)

Naturally, I asked the man if I could take some pictures. What else could I do, I was practically standing over him, shoulder to shoulder with the morning commuters, and it was at least another 10 minutes to the station. He said O.K.

Schoolboy looks on with awe

sad sort of rope-leash

Later at the bus station I spotted Bunny Man walking, holding a backpack just inches from the ground, the front flap unzipped to allow the rabbit, who was comfortably sitting inside, to see where they were going.

hashi for the whole kazoku

Well it's official - we are leaving Japan at the end of June. Emotions are mixed, of course, but I'm generally happy with this plan, grateful to have had the time here, etc., etc., and fully intend to enjoy the remaining months. I'm also determined not to run around town buying "last chance" stuff. Like rolls of washi paper and grapefruit Frisk mints. We've collected enough mementos to last a lifetime.

But I have my weak moments, like on Friday afternoon, when I walked past Tokyu Hands on my way to run an errand in Udagawacho, in Shibuya, and, for the record, did *not* go inside (that place is dangerous - it sells everything you never knew you needed - like paper clips shaped like clothes hangers, and sumo wrestler kitchen magnets). But there was this nice man outside the north entrance, selling chopsticks, and engraving them too.

Long story short, now everybody in the family has a pair.

The hashi artiste told me he's only there occasionally, as he moves around to other locations (other Tokyu Hands department stores in Shinjuku and Ikebukuro) but he'll be selling, and engraving, outside the Shibya store through this weekend.

Watch him in action:

After engraving, he rubbed gold paint into the grooves.

 
Finished!

a family goes out for dessert...

...and mom gives in. (Sometimes you just have to let them get what they want.)

what is it with melon soda? looks like antifreeze!

park rules

Sign posted in Arisugawa park in Hiroo:

Please Do Not Brush Your Dog's hair On a Bench 

And this is because.... ?? Don't mean to quibble; I don't have a dog, and maybe the ban increases my chances of finding a place to sit whenever I think to go to this quiet and rather lovely area of the park, a clearing surrounded by woods, away from the pond and the playground, but I'd love to know the thinking behind it. What am I missing?
 
Last time the boys and I were in the park we noticed that some winter berries, purple things the size of BBs, had sprouted on some of the bushes. The elderly couple, in the background behind Dylan, above, are just sitting and admiring. I guess I can see how brushing a dog could kill the mood.

shortcut to Shibuya station

Walking south along the JR train tracks, standing bars up ahead on the left

at the cemetery

A couple months ago, when there were still some autumn leaves on the trees, KT and I spent some time in Aoyama cemetery to practice some new skills we had learned from the brilliant photog Alfie Goodrich. Here are some of my favorite shots from that day.

Happy Year of the Dragon!

A belated Akemashite omedetou to all. It's tatsu doshi!

The 12-year cycle of zodiac animals, junishi in Japanese, is, like many aspects of Japanese culture, a concept copied/stolen/borrowed/adopted from China more than a thousand years ago, and then altered/improved/bastardized.  My son Conor was born in a Year of the Dragon - the last one, 2000 - so it's his year. Dragons, it is said, are strong and powerful and wise, nonthreatening but also not shy, who like to talk and get things done. They can be hotheaded yet compassionate. (It does seem to fit...)

Our other son was born in the Year of the Horse - which means he's independent and a hard worker, friendly but sometimes selfish; energetic, with a mind of his own. He likes nothing more than to run free about the countryside, because, well, he's a horse. (Not bad.) Terry and I are Roosters, which means we're shrewd dreamers. If you believe this stuff...