There are just some kind of men who’re so busy worrying about the next world they’ve never learned to live in this one.

Harper Lee, “To Kill a Mockingbird”

22 January 2024

Farewell to the Temple

Today was fairly nondescript. I wrote and packed. The obaachans in the kitchen, who I’d been running jokes with like wacky grandmas from the West – teasing each other, using a lot of sarcasm – gave me a rare embrace.

“Come back while I’m still alive,” one of them said. “And you as well!”

“Survive,” another said, referring to my return to Israel.

The temple staff seemed more concerned than me about the war. I figured I’d be safe.

A bigger source of anxiety for me was the changes that would come with my flight. Not because a new country daunted me; on the contrary, I longed to rediscover the adventure in exploring uncharted territory. But Japan had become a source of comfort for me. Familiar and easy to handle.

Perhaps that was the problem. I was about to leave my comfort zone. I was about to leave free food and accommodation.

And that, in return, was why I needed to leave, despite my misgivings. Or rather, because of them. Sinking into a routine that didn’t challenge me wasn’t something I wished for myself.

Dinner was spaghetti tomato and nabe. I bid everyone a forlorn farewell; Mamacita and I hugged again and again.

“You’re the best person here,” I muttered in her ear.

She chuckled.

“I know.”

Saying goodbye to her was the hardest. It was yet another moment on this trip where I had to part with someone I saw myself being friends with.

I cursed the shackles of distance. The world might be a global village, yet crossing it felt like the universe.

Before coming to this temple, I was sure I’d be lonely. Once again, like my previous volunteering experiences, my departure felt premature.

As always, it was better to end something while wanting more, than to denounce it.

Today’s highlight: goodbye to the temple.

23 January 2024

• 7:30-11:00 Minobu-san to Shinjuku bus terminal bus
• Final stops in Tokyo: Shibuya, Omotensado, Honancho…

Tokyo

I ate breakfast at 6:30 and took the long-distance bus to Shinjuku with Papacito. I’d chosen to stay another day at the temple and take the bus with him to spend more time together.

Shinjuku and Shibuya stations were strangely quiet. There were people, but not that many. It was always a frenzy, trying to cross the flood of passengers. One couldn’t even stand still. But now it was sane.

Perhaps a late January weekday was the least busy time of the year. The weather was cool and sunny, while the tourists were not too many.

We went souvenir shopping at Donki. Then, at a bookshop, I found an abridged copy of the Tales of Genji with the Japanese text and an English translation side by side. It cost too much, but as a student of Japanese and a writer, I couldn’t not pass on the most important novel in Japanese history, and the first novel in history. I’d even visited its museum in Uji.

At 14:30, Papacito had to leave for his flight. He kept repeating how unreal it felt to leave this country.

“What will you miss the most?” he asked as we crossed the half-busy scramble.

I considered my surroundings. Skyscrapers; youth with brightly-coloured hair; street fashion; billboards with anime. There was no other place like this.

“I can’t pick just one. Can you?”

“No.”

We got lost inside Shibuya station, trying to find our coin lockers.

“I won’t miss getting lost inside train stations,” I said.

I walked him to the JR gate. Another sad goodbye.

A few minutes later, I met a friend by Hachiko statue outside the station – the American guy from Kakunodate. He took me to Omotesando, a trendy neighbourhood near Shibuya, with European shops and cafés. We ate sandwiches at a frequent spot of his and walked around the area, through Harajuku and Yoyogi Park, back to Shibuya. Pleasant temperature, streets, and company: it was good to see him again.

Reuniting with My Japanese Counterpart

After this, I went to Honancho, where Saki lived.

「帰った」he said. (“So you came home.”)

Saki was my best friend in Japan. There was none of that Japanese distance. Sometimes it felt like he was drifting apart, but when we met once every few months, it was as if no time had passed.

I gifted him a rare bottle of olive oil and soy sauce from Shodoshima (the capital of olives and traditional soy sauce in Japan). He’d been working days and nights, practically seven days a week, for months without overtime.

“The yen is declining,” he reasoned.

He was going through a hard time with his family in addition to that. When I asked him「元気？」 (“How are you? Doing well?”), he answered「元気じゃない」 (“I’m not ok”).

We had Teishoku for dinner at a local restaurant with Moki, a half Japanese, half Pakistani music producer from Shibuya, who had lived all over the world. Saki had also invited him to dinner on the night we’d met in late April. I’d remained friends with both, and couchsurfed at their apartments.

Knowing my natto addiction, Saki suggested ordering a natto omelette, which was apparently a thing that existed. Good, yet slightly weird.

After dinner, I sorted my luggage at Saki’s apartment. He’d been safekeeping a carry-on for me ever since May. I gave him my winter clothes in exchange for my summer clothes.

「行ってきます」(“I’m going; I’ll be back”).

「いってらっしゃい」(“Take care”).

「おおきに！」(Kansai dialect for “thanks”). 「おやすみ」(“Good night”).

I took two trains to Uguisudani station, near Ueno. At 23:00, I checked into my hostel for the night, my cheapest ever in Japan.

Coming back to Tokyo knowing I might live here, I felt that at this point in my life, the world’s biggest metropolis was the right place for me.

Today’s highlights: Shibuya with Papacito; Omotesando with the American guy; Teishoku with Saki and Moki.

24 January 2024

• A foodie return to Asakusa (1h)
• Yanaka Ginza (30m)
• Yanaka Cemetery (2h)
• 18:50-20:40 Nippori station to Keisei Narita station local train (Keisei line), 21:00- transfer to Nartia Airport terminal 2-3 station (Keisei line)

Asakusa

For my last day of Round Two in Japan, I chose to recreate the first day of Round Two, and the last day of Round One.

The former began when I checked out at 11:00 and walked to Asakusa, my favourite area of Tokyo. I arrived at the matcha crepe stand from August 3 when it opened at 12:00. As I waited in line for my coveted creme brûlée matcha crepe, the staff stuck a “sold out” note next to it.

My compensation was the ice cream shop from my first time in Asakusa. Premium matcha and brown rice tea ice cream. Decadently bitter: I savoured it with shut eyes.

Without a doubt, the best matcha ice cream in Japan.

I crossed the wonderfully red and ever-busy Senso-ji temple. People in kimonos lavisher than mine. The old-school shopping avenue and Tokyo Skytree towering in the background.

Then I grabbed a taiyaki from my favourite taiyaki chain and ate a konbini lunch by Sumida River, as I’d done with the German girl from Korea on August 3. Since when did Lawson sell a conger eel and cucumber sushi roll? Asakusa, alongside Shin-Okubo, was to me an evergreen foodie spot in Tokyo. Previous visits had included black squid ink monja; high-end onigiri; and the best melonpan in Japan.

Yanaka Cemetery

As for the last day of Round One, I walked one hour back west through Ueno Park to Yanaka Ginza, a locals-only area with the cheapeast manju shop. Nine red bean manju, a butter dorayaki, and an Imo Karinto manju (brown cane sugar dough filled with sweet potato paste) cost me 300 yen. The latter was so divinely soft on the inside and crunchy on the outside, that I regretted not buying ten more.

At the quaint shopping street, with cheap shops selling traditional souvenirs, I found an ukiyo-e chopstick and chopstick holder, so I wouldn’t forget how to use them while in Israel. I also came across a cheap shop for vintage kimono, geta sandals, obi belts, katana swords, and more.

At 15:00, I arrived at Yanaka Cemetery.

I found a bench in a secluded and silent area, surrounded by plants and graves. Crows were flying and cawing near me. I ate some of the pastries I’d bought. My hunger was not unlike my first day in Iya Valley, after camping and barely eating at all.

Strolling through the cemetery, only one thing occupied my thoughts. A line from a Fiona Apple song, from her flawless second album.

“I’m a mess and I don’t know what I’m doing,” I sang in my head, again and again.

After half an hour or so like this, I played the song. I’d misrecalled the lyrics. The first line of the chorus, whose melody I kept repeating, was different. It was the second line I’d botched.

“’Cause I know I’m a mess he don’t want to clean up.”

But that wasn’t what my brain had come up with. I was a mess, and I didn’t know what I was doing.

Was there any adult who did?

Listening to the lyrics was eye-opening. Searching the sky for stars and spotting a paper bag instead – this image couldn’t have illustrated my attitude toward life better.

“Hunger hurts, but starving works,” Apple sang. I’d been feeling that again and again throughout this trip.

“I want him so bad, oh, it kills.”

At that moment, it felt like all my dreams in life – everything I was so desperate to achieve – would either start unfolding, or end me.

“I would do everything to chase my dreams,” the British student had told me last week, “even if it killed me.”

I came across an enormous tree with gorgeous, green foliage. I imagined being buried in one of the graves underneath it. It was one of the most beautiful trees I’d seen.

Typing all this took forever. It was so cold, that my fingers hurt. I’d come to the cemetery with the intention of staying here after dark, yet kept shivering. I’d given all my warm clothes to my couch-surfing host for safekeeping.

I left the cemetery at sunset and ambled back to my ryokan for thirty minutes. Locals were staring at me with curiosity. I thought about a lot of things, mostly the end of them all.

“Sayonara” (8 May 2023)

I found the bench where I’d had a manju picnic. Sunny, windy, nipping, quiet.

Once again, with my coat and gloves at Saki’s, I was shivering uncontrollably. Crows were cawing around me, flying above flowers and tombstones.

I put on Paper Bag. The lyrics held a lot of meaning for me.

I was staring at the sky, just looking for a star
To pray on, or wish on, or something like that
I was having a sweet fix of a daydream of a boy
Whose reality I knew was a-hopeless to be had

Hunger hurts and I want him so bad, oh, it kills
'Cause I know I'm a mess he don't wanna clean up

And I went crazy again today, looking for a strand to climb
Looking for a little hope

I thought he was a man, but he was just a little boy

I couldn’t possibly recall every song I’d featured in over one hundred posts from the past year, but I reckoned this one represented my trip most of all.

What had changed, I wondered, since May 8? I’d gone through a myriad of experiences, which many people never got to. In that sense, I was exceptionally privileged. Especially when war ravished back home.

And yet… I didn’t feel like my life was going somewhere. Not in terms of career, love, or dreams. On the contrary, I was approaching my goal of living in Japan on my own, while also retreating to my family in Israel.

Perhaps the only place I was going to was the next world, or rather, away from this one. Except I didn’t believe in the afterlife. I had one chance at existence, and so far, wasn’t sure what I’d accomplished with it.

I thought about all the skeletons buried around me. How many of them had gotten their wishes while they’d had the chance?

Sometimes, when I grew anxious about surviving in this world, I wondered what was the point, if someday, I would leave it. But these thoughts did me no good, leastways when actually seeing the world. My circumstances hadn’t changed, but at least I had: I’d learned on this trip to focus more on my present.

I put on a later song of Apple’s, written when she was older and wiser. A sullen loop, stuck on repeat.

On I go, not toward or away
Up until now, it was day, next day
Up until now, in a rush to prove
But now, I only move to move

Perhaps all humans could do was move just to move. Or rather, all they should. To live for the sake of living, instead of doing something for a purpose deeper than the thing itself.

I watched clouds drift slowly while waiting for sunset. There were too many things I wanted to prove.

At 17:00, with my teeth chattering, I hurried back to my hostel, a fifteen-minute walk away. The full moon shone bright in the pastel sky. I muttered the loop again and again like a mantra.

Narita Airport

After taking a long yet cheap local train to Narita airport, I ate natto sushi and anko manju inside terminal 3. I also found the heavenly melon milk from Kinosaki Onsen, a seasonal drink exclusive to Family Mart.

With my flight to Taiwan departing at 8:30, I had no choice but to spend the night at the terminal. There were a handful of reclining spaces, occupied by sleepers and Chinese tourists who sat there for some reason instead of using the dozens of vacant chairs nearby.

A few backpackers were snoring on the floor next to this. At midnight, I took melatonin, and did the same.

It was funny – sleeping on a dirty, airport floor and trembling from the cold didn’t bother me. Not if it meant traveling. After spending the first leg of my trip in private hotel rooms, I’d learned to shed my standards. I didn’t mind tonight’s arrangement, nor starting a month-long volunteering straight after my flight tomorrow. Lack of money had pushed me to make such compromises. Now, I would choose them either way. They made life more memorable.

Today’s highlights: delicacies in Asakusa; Imo Karinto manju; returning to Yanaka cemetery; melon milk.

Updated list of favorite places in Japan:

• Sapporo
• Shiretoko
• Lake Akan
• Tokachidake Onsen
• Rebun Island
• Noboribetsu
• Osore-zan
• Aoni Onsen
• Mt Azuma-Kofuji
• Oya
• Tokyo
• Ito
• Hakone
• Fuji-san
• Matsumoto
• Tateyama Kurobe Alpine Route
• Ise
• Nachi
• Uji
• Kinosaki Onsen
• Tottori
• Himeji
• Shodoshima
• Naoshima
• Iya Valley
• Miyajima

Updated picks for best places to eat Japanese dishes:

• Sushi: all of Hokkaido
• Ramen: Sapporo
• Udon: Takamatsu
• Soba: Matsumoto (bonus: soba tea, my favourite)
• Natto: Akebono
• Oden: Iya Valley
• Somen: Shodoshima
• Okonomiyaki: Hiroshima (my preference over the original from Osaka)
• Takoyaki: Osaka
• Amazake: Hakone
• Zunda: Sendai
• Baumkuchan: Otaru
• Matcha: Uji
• Matcha ice cream: Asakusa
• Katsuo: Kochi
• Taimeshi: Uwajima
• Convenience store onigiri: Hokkaido
• Anything seafood and dairy: Hokkaido
• HOKKAIDO

Updated list of unique experiences in Japan:

• February 12, Shiretoko, drift ice walk
• February 16, Tokachidake onsen, frozen waterfall snowshoe trek, surprise TV interview for my birthday, and a brown open-air onsen
• February 21, Kuroishi, staying a digital detox ryokan in nature and shovelling a shuttle bus stuck on a hill during a snowstorm
• February 25, Ainokura, staying at a gassho-zukuri, eating dinner cooked in an irori, and sleeping with a mametan (charcoal briquette)
• February 27, Matsumoto, the world’s largest wasabi farm
• March 7, Ise, the holiest and barest Shinto shrine in Japan
• March 9, Osaka, Universal Studio’s Super Nintendo World
• March 15, Koya-san, night tour of Okuno-in cemetery and a temple stay
• March 20, Nachi, alone in a rustic cabin atop a mountain at night after a four-day pilgrimage and the toughest hike of my life, which culminated in Kumano Nachi Taisha
• March 23, Shodoshima, spiritual rush at an abandoned temple atop Mt Doun-zan
• March 25, Naoshima, otherworldly installations and an artistic bathhouse
• March 26, Hiroshima, atomic gore in the Peace Memorial Museum
• March 28, Miyajima, ebb-and-flow torii gate, momiji manju, and incredible seafood
• March 29, Okunoshima, abandoned poison gas storehouses and freely roaming rabbits on a tiny island
• March 30-31, Shimanami Kaido, cycling on cutting-edge bridges through an archipelago
• April 2, Iya Valley, vine bridges, Scarecrow Village, private cable cars to open-air onsens, and crashing at an old couple’s traditional home in Ochiai
• April 3, Himeji, the biggest and most beautiful castle in Japan
• April 5, Yoshino Mountain, the best place in Japan for cherry blossoms
• April 12, Kyoto, Fushimi Inari’s tunnels of torii + Uji, tea ceremony and matcha-themed food at the picturesque capital of tea
• April 17, Tateyama Kurobe Alpine Route, the dam and corridor of snow
• April 20, Ashikaga, kanji test at Japan’s oldest school, and one of the world’s foremost festivals of azalea and wisteria
• April 28, Omiya, Japan’s bonsai capital
• August 4-6, Tohoku, festival marathon: Morioka Sansa Odori, Akita Kanto, and Aomori Nebuta
• August 7, Osore-zan, a one-of-a-kind hellish nature
• August 14, Dewa Sanzan, a Buddhist pilgrimage culminating in the one-of-a-kind Yudono-san temple
• August 17, Tamagawa Onsen, poisonous gas and a torturous soaking
• August 26, Omagari, a 3-hour fireworks extravaganza with almost one million attendees
• September 3, Fuji-san, hiking from the dead of night to sunrise to a sea of clouds
• September 20, Rebun Island, gales and vomit and the world’s wackiest hostel
• October 1, Chitose, a coffee-coloured, silky onsen
• October 8-9, Lake Akan, marimo festival
• October 21, APPI ski resort, snow and kouyou at the same time
• October 23, Morioka, wanko soba
• October 25, Hachimantai, the milky, old-school Nyuto Onsen inside a yellow-and-orange forest
• November 4, Utsunomiya, huge stone quarry and stone temple
• November 14, Ito, staying at a fancy ryokan-turned-hostel, circling an extinct volcano (Mt Omura) overlooking the ocean and Mt Fuji, and practicing archery inside the crater
• November 22-28, Kyoto, a Red Sea of momiji
• December 3, Osaka, Yokai festival full of monsters and demons
• December 7-9, Shodoshima, Japanese and Greek cultures merging in places like Olive Park and Olive Shrine, plus a rare, Showa-era school lunch
• December 14, Uwajima, one of the world’s most comprehensive yet grotesque collections of sexual art
• December 21, Tottori, snowy sand dunes by a stormy sea
• January 12, Shichimen-san, staying at an old-school temple famous for its view of Fuji-san during sunset and sunrise
• January 15, Akebono, a salty and sulphuric onsen, organic food at a mountainous community, an old-school-and-modern-Shojin cuisine plus osechi for a Small New Year’s feast, culminating in a join-in performance of traditional music

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