Haruna Lights & Hiking in Agatsuma

Haruna Lake has a big Christmas Illumination [Ku-ri-su-ma-su I-ru-mi-ne-shyo-n] going on, but it wasn’t as impressive as I wanted it to be. Or maybe I would have paid better attention to the glowing lights if it hadn’t been so [expletive deleted] cold, or if I had prepared for it better, like with a fur-lined polar bear suit wrapped around me and fire in my pockets.

Mt. Haruna is only about a 20-minute drive from Misato, up into the mountains on a windy mountain road through a forest of bare-trunked trees (a little scary, actually; that little old blue lady could have been hiding anywhere in that darkness). But at the top of the mountain where all the people were, the lights were twinkling and there was a huge green “laser show” flashing all around.

I’ll say it again, boy howdy it was cold up there; I had on about five layers and was still complaining! I was in utter astonishment at the number of scantily dressed girls I saw, too. They were certainly beautiful in their short-shorts and pantyhose, but good grief, how could they manage?! I must be too American: comfort before style, always!

Liz and Angela and I had a good time wandering around and taking pictures of everything—us with the group of sexy firemen beside their fire truck. . . us with the creepy Santa Claus passing out omiyage. . . us with a group of juvenile delinquent Japanese college kids who kept following us around and speaking to us in incoherent English. There were strings of lights forming Christmas trees, wreaths, and hearts, and more lights lining the walkway, a child-sized airplane, an 1800s carriage, and a boat. There were even lights on the water. To add to the magical Chrismas air, they were playing Danny Elfman’s “Edward Scissorhands” music, making me want to spin in the ice like Winona Ryder.

The lights were beautiful, but my favorite part was eating the food (curry and rice, a hot dog with no bread, hot chocolate) and huddling around the bonfires that were scattered around the parking lot. Oh, warmth! We only stayed for about two hours because I just couldn't take it any more. When I got home, I thawed out under the kotatsu, eating my mom’s Chex Mix, a German stollen I got from Kaldi, and hot milk.

But, as if once were not enough, I went back again on Friday night because my friend Oren wanted to see the lights, too. It was mostly the same—really really really cold but with pretty lights—except that this time I got to practice my Japanese! Some little girls—one was 12 and in 6^th grade, the other was 14 and in 8^th (chuu gakko sannensei)—started talking to Oren and me in English and the four of us we ended up talking for about an hour! As we were having our English/Japanese conversation mix, one of the girls’ dad, an extraordinarily drunk Japanese man in a Santa costume, stumbled over and handed us cups of hot chocolate. And then a pair of bunless hot dogs sitting in a glob of ketchup. Then some yakimochi (?). Then a paper plate of French fries and fried chicken. He kept going to different vendors, grabbing whatever they were selling, and handing it to us! I got so full from all that street vendor food, but it was so delicious—and free! We took our picture together. I felt sorry for the little girl who kept trying to excuse his behavior. . . but she seemed used to it and not too bothered.

Later, after we went inside one of the dining tents and were huddling around the kerosene heater, the girl’s mom brought us cups of hot tea. I felt like a very privileged guest, and all I was doing was talking about which member of Arashi I liked (even though I didn’t have much to contribute . . . ) We left around 10:30, and I got emoticon-filled text messages from the girls for the next hour. They were really sweet, though, and it was a fun night. Yes, that was my Friday night: sitting around a heater on top of a mountain talking with a couple of middle school girls in Japanese.

Saturday night about the same, except that I was talking in English and there were no children. I was on a mountain in front of a heater, though. My friend Peter was in town on Saturday afternoon and offered me a ride up to Agatsuma, an area up in the mountains about 25 miles northwest of Takasaki, where some other JETs live and where I was going hiking on Sunday morning. Way in the middle of nowhere, our Saturday night consisted of watching half of Willow and half of Pulp Fiction before everyone fell asleep at 11:00.

Sunday morning was beautiful, though. We woke up bright and early at 8:00 and were at Seven Eleven to meet Ebachan and Friends by 8:30. (Ebachan is the guy who rents cars to ALTs and who also hosts mountain climbing/hiking adventures around Gunma. He’s in his 50s—or was it 60s?—and was joined by three other older Japanese men around the same age.) We had a lovely time, Jacob and Peter and the Japanese guys and me! The hike wasn’t too strenuous, even though we had to use chains to climb up some of the rocky parts. Unlike Miyogi, I didn’t think I was going to die on this climb. It was just like taking a stroll out on the Appalachian Trail in late fall: the brisk weather, the leaf-less trees, the ground a carpet of brown and crunch.

We stopped for lunch halfway down in a small picnic area overlooking the mountains around us. Even though we Americans hadn’t bought a very good lunch at the 7-11 (just a Snickers bar and some mixed nuts for me, and an apple all three of us were eating), the other climbers shared their rice balls, snacks, and fruit with us. Everything eaten outside always tastes better, and it was delicious. Afterwards, feeling full and complete, I laid down in the leaves, feeling the warm sun and smelling the crisp late-autumn-smelling air. I was feeling lazy and could have fallen asleep if I hadn’t been jolted awake by leaves being thrown all over me. Soon, they were all kicking leaves onto me, raking them up with their feet and hands, and I was quickly buried under a huge pile, with only my head sticking out. Ebachan made a crude wooden cross out of two sticks and stuck it in the ground at my head, and Peter took a picture of the four Japanese men and Jacob kneeling at my side with their hands under their chins in prayer and their eyes closed. In retrospect, the picture looks kind of creepy, but it was fun while we were doing it! I at least didn’t have to do anything: I just laid there with my eyes closed covered in leaves.

After the funeral, I burst through the leaves like a zombie--first one arm, then the other--and raked the dried leaves from all over me. Then we finished the descent down the mountain. The path took us through a magical-looking forest with widely-spaced trees and little undergrowth, over a tiny shallow steam, beside a (hopefully not-in-service but still scary) electric fence (a little incongruous with the rest of the scenery) and through a tightly woven bamboo forest that reminded me of House of Flying Daggers. Running through the thick branches of the short trees, brambles flying back and hitting people in the face, we could have been ninjas. It was exhilarating.

Back on the pavement, Ebachan & Co. drove off to soak in an onsen for three hours, while Jacob and Peter and I went back to Jacob’s to finish Pulp Fiction. I went home soon afterwards, on the 16:39 train, arriving in Takasaki at 5:33, just in time to realize I missed the 5:30 bus back home. Luckily, though, I ran into our lovely Gunma CIR at the station, who drove me the thirty minutes back to my house on her way back to Maebashi. (And thank you! thank you! for not making me wait until 6:25!)

It was a very fun chill weekend, unlike this one coming up, which is sure to be raucous from Wednesday, the night of the end-of-year-school-party, to Christmas. I'll let you know how it goes. Next post: a little more about school!