Letter to Students 28 July 2008

Dear Reader

I am writing on the train as we wend our way toward Nagano, the area in which my youngest daughter, Shahan, spent six important months of her seventeen years of experiences.  The rail tracks follow a beautiful river with huge dry, seemingly sun bleached boulders emerging from the clear blue waters, with cedar trees, sugi, covering the beautifully sculpted mountains.  Being lower than the mountains in New Zealand, and untouched by man for lush pastureland for sheep, the trees reach to the top, a green mantle greeting the eye as a white mist lightly shrouds the valleys.  I feel lost for words to describe such scenes, and it is at times like this that I miss  not having a camera to capture the beauty. My words do not do the powerful scene justice. However, I have worked hard to keep such scenes in my mind, although it seems so selfish as I can not then share the visual scene with you, being bereft of adequate words to describe it clearly.  I wish I had the abiltiyof such iconic writers such as the Japanese craftsman Kawabata Yusunari who so carefully weave such descriptions into a visual mural. Unfortunately, pylons also blight the landscape at times, and I lament the coming of "progress" when it spoils the beauty of nature.  Japan seems to be able to do this with ease, placing factories in glorious nature reserves, and ugly hotels constructed beside beautiful lakes.  Lake Biwako conjured up images of old Japan with a lake surrounded by cedar covered mountains.  Travelling though the forested hills was special, and the streams which carried clear water to the bottom gave a sense of cool calm continuity to the cedar homeland. However, arriving at the former Biwako hotel, which is now a functions centre called English Garden, I bemoaned the loss of a hotel built in the 1930s to reflect the class of a Japan which valued its culture, but welcomed foreign guests to the lake'sbeautiful shores.  the Meiji era opened the door for foreigners and walking into the reception area, I could imagine the foreign guests arriving with their trunk of finery, and checking in to their beautiful suites. However, going up  to the third floor, all sense of a plush hotel had been replaced by sterile offices, a number of rooms being converted into English conversation classrooms by the English Garden Language School!

How grand it would have been to have stayed there in the hotel's heyday, but I felt it had been robbed of its glorious past and no one even mourned its passing. No one seemed to care,and the wedding couple who sweated in their western clothing, were only interested in having their photo taken in front of the gracious staircase.  I am sure I was born out of my time, as seeing the long unkempt grass surrounding what was the lawn of the hotel really upset me.  There had been an "English garden" planted to the side of the hotel, where most wedding photos were taken, but the hotel languished, in need of a paint,and some one who had money to bring it back to its former glory.  I had the feeling it would be replaced by a big apartment building full of "manshions" (bought apartments) before anyone could invest in the hotel's restoration. 

These multi storeyed apartment blocks are popping up all around Lake Biwako, and we actually visited one of Ayako's friends in a fifteen storey complex which had been completed three years ago.  It was like walking into a hotel, with white marble flooring, and a lounge where one could sit and have coffee and something to eat, all for the price of 100 a piece.  There was an exercise room off to the other side, and a door leading out to a small grassed area which looked out onto Lake Biwa, Biwako as it is called in Japanese.The apartment in which we were served delicious matcha, green tea, and mouth watering water melon, was on the 13th floor, so obviously no one was superstitious!  Although the apartment was small, with two small bedrooms and one living area, it suited the retired couple who were still grieving over the loss of their house and garden. Old age can be a terrible thing, whittling down one's possession till one is ready to enter the smallest room of all, your coffin!

I was surprised to learn that Biwa had been notorious for hosting jet boat races which allowed the Japanese their only form of legal betting. A huge green complex, which looks like a hotel, is the site for those men, mainly, who spend their money hoping for the big win.  It used to be really sleezy, and bring with it all the wrong kind of people, but the area is slowly being "regentrified," with people like Ayakos friends attracted by the lake view and lower prices.

We are now one stop away from Matsumoto, and I am regretting not having brought the phone number of Shahan's host family with whom she stayed for three months last year.  When I was preparing to leave Dunedin, I was focused only on the schedule Ayako had planned for us, as I deferred to her as she had originally planned the trip.  With hindsight, I should have added the people and places which were important to me.  Travelling with someone is always a careful balancing act, and compromise is the most important quality.  I hope I am able to keep the balance and feel happy with the compromises!

I remember coming to Japan two years ago, in the depth of winter, and travelling on these trains on my own. It was a very tight schedule, and I planned each place according to the people to whom I had been introduced.  It was so much colder than I expected, and I remember carrying my heavy bag across snow laden streets and railway tracks in the dark of night. It was another contemplative time for me, and I met many wonderful people.

We are now about to reach Matsumoto, so I will continue my travelogue, I hate that word as it sounds so factual,when I am settled somewhere.  Who knows where?  I hope you are happy, and keeping warm in the depths of winter. I believe the North Island has been battered by storms and the lives of people have been taken.  Suddenly rising waters have also taken the lives of people here, so please be very careful.

Love

Sharron