Bike Trip to Asuka (Day 1)

I'm sitting in a hotel bathroom in the mountains of Asuka, in Nara, Japan. The bike trip I've taken this weekend is one of the most fulfilling, surprising things I've done while abroad. Knowing that much time has passed, that blog writing was more infrequent this trip, I've decided to retell the story of my day to you first, before my bike trip has even concluded.

I left early this morning with Emily and Veronica. These two ladies were the same phenomenal people who went with me to the homeland (aka Hogwarts) a couple weeks ago.
 

Veronica on the left, Emily in the middle, the homeland directly behind us

We took a train from Kyoto to Nara. I found myself successfully asleep right as we arrived at our destination. It was in the station that we met up with the three other people on the trip, Anne, Koji, and Tetsuya. They all are members of the International Outdoors Club (IOC) in Japan, a group that organizes hikes and camping among English speakers. We all became acquainted (having met for the first time this morning) on our way to the bike rental shop in downtown Nara. At this time I learned Tetsuya works in a pharmaceutical company. With this realization I began to ask him a number of prying questions about how sensitive information is handled and limitations on what can be shared with the public. Standard small talk u kno.

It was soon that we found the place and selected our candy colored bicycles. Mine is bright red, with a lot of style.

By the time we departed by bike it was a hot, humid, cloudless 85°. I was beginning to doubt my decision to skip sunscreen. I shrugged it off, plugged in my earbuds, and listened to Kendrick's "To Pimp a Butterfly."

On the outskirts of downtown Nara. Image courtesy of Koji.

Even moving out of downtown Nara was scenic. With wide fields, a number of lakes, and mountains surrounding us wherever we went. After about two hours of biking we stopped for lunch. I finished my nalgene, two sandwiches, and was sweating from every pore. The food tasted like anything I've ever eaten, in part because I was ravenous by the time we ate. I also discovered my bike gears, realizing I had pedaled up a few very intense hills on the most difficult gear. 

The next two hours put me on a spiritual journey. I found myself asking many questions, such as: what are the symptoms of heat stroke? What constitutes a "beginners bike trip"? And, can I avoid vomiting for the next couple hours? Thankfully I wasn't the only tired, tomato-faced biker. On a break Koji took one look at our faces and politely suggested we stop at a cafe for some "iced coffee and cake." We pedaled off-trail to a town, finding a cafe beside the local grocery store. This cafe was where I encountered the ultra deluxe, raspberry pacman ghost cake. It was three dollars.

We went the next hour rehydrating and eating. It was a fucking utopia, where I was able to recover from queasiness and replenish all the water I was still sweating out of my body. At this point in the day my water intake was at two nalgenes, one bottle of water, and one sports drink.

After our extended break in the cafe we reembarked on a slightly cooler, slightly cloudier afternoon trip. Although this chunk was more manageable, I still wondered if the next morning they'd find me dead, like the first man to ever run a marathon. Not unlike him, I had woefully under-trained for the trip. Even though I was holding my own and in love with my surroundings, I wondered about my prospects of seeing tomorrow.

On our way to Asuka

At this point in the afternoon, we were fairly comfortable with navigating roads in Japan, though I will say this: our leader, Koji, has a very loose interpretation of a walk signal. And Japanese roads often have little to no bike path. This was more relevant in the beginning and end of our day trips, where we biked through cities. I kept thinking back to that moment in One Day (spoiler if you haven't read/seen it) where the female lead gets randomly, and violently hit by a car at the end of the story. I wasn't really afraid, so much as bemusing the thought. Even in the heat, dehydration, and longer bike stints, the landscape was consistently beautiful. Every once in a while I would glide, my hair blowing back, listening to music, looking at mountains, and feel an undiluted bliss. 

Starting with me on the left, Koji, Anne, Tetsuya, Emily, and Veronica

After biking a couple more hours we arrived in Asuka, an area that is all trees, mountains, and farmland. It reminded me of a national park, minus all the giddy camera-clad tourists. We biked for a bit before I sheepishly asked Koji to stop so I could take a picture. He smiled and agreed. While I took some pictures he told me that "everywhere in Asuka is this beautiful."

We got to our hotel shortly after, walking our bikes up this one last, very steep hill. Eager to shower, we washed off, turned on the AC, drank water, and met up for dinner an hour later. Our dinner was a traditional Japanese meal, complete with a full fish! I attempted to pick it apart with my chopsticks, but did a poor job in comparison to Anne, Tetsuya, and well pretty much everyone.

By the end of the meal, most of us were exhausted, but Koji was determined to party. Remember, the three of us are college students. Anne was 30, Koji maybe 45, and Tetsuya around 60. We agreed to walk around looking for fireflies, then drink wine on the deck afterwards. We didn't stray too far from the hotel, but did spot a few fireflies nearby. I climbed up a stony hill and sat on a ledge looking at the hills and fields. Soon after we headed back to the patio, where we drank and talked for a little less than an hour. It was very relaxed, which was nice in the context of a more challenging bike trip.

Everyone went to bed at 10pm, but I'm up writing in the bathroom. It's going on 11, we're set to wake up at 7:30 for breakfast and a morning bike around Asuka. I will post pictures and write a bit more about day 2 after it's happened.

Reflections on Hiroshima

Excerpt from Trinity: An Illustrated History of the First Atomic Bomb

"The darkened eyes of observers in the command center, more than five miles away, saw a sudden flash to the east/ The glow of the atmosphere burning like the filament of a lightbulb/ The ball of fire glared brighter than three suns on a clear day/ So bright that fifty miles away a blind girl turned her head and asked:/ 'What is that?'"
 
Before coming to Japan I read a graphic novel about the making of the atomic bomb. The heartbreaking illustrations, the richness in narrative and information, make it a real force in the graphic novel world. I learned about Hiroshima and Nagasaki in high school, but this novel helped bring back some of the information that had long faded to the farthest corners of my mind.

We hosted a speaker prior to our trip who was a child in Hiroshima in 1945. He told us some of his experience and memories from the bombing on August 6th. His talk focused on written texts that were distributed in class. Among them was a poem found in the Hiroshima Peace Park, by Sankichi Toge.

　"Give back my father, give back my mother;

   Give grandpa back, grandma back;
　Give me my sons and daughters back.
　Give me back myself.
　Give back the human race.
　As long as this life lasts, this life,
　Give back peace
　That will never end."

Even with the build-up to our weekend trip, I felt underprepared for our visit to Hiroshima. We spent the morning traveling and by the time we got there I was exhausted. Our first stop was the Peace Park, at the epicenter of the bomb. I was astounded by the amount of vegetation, all the life that I was surrounded by. There was a museum, a memorial hall, and a sculpture in the middle of a large garden. The rivers where people cooled their scorched skin, bled, and died, glittered. I sat on a park bench for some time, looking at the Atomic Dome, one of the only buildings that remained standing at the epicenter.

It wasn't long that I was approached on the bench. Two Japanese women in their sixties said hello, asking me questions about my visit to Japan, learning a bit about where I'm from. My body was still angled towards the dome for part of our conversation. We spoke in vague terms of the Peace Park, of the bomb, but not in any sort of detail. I quietly hustled in my mind, trying to find anything that I could say. No words came.

I learned quickly that the women were Jehovah's witnesses. They showed me some informative videos online, recommended that I visit their website. After fifteen minutes of talking, I figured I could ask them one provocative question. I asked what race Jesus was. They looked to each other, then to me. Trying to intuit what I wanted to hear, I could see that I was giving them some trouble. They paused, then one said "Middle Eastern." I nodded enthusiastically, agreed. "Yeah, Jesus wasn't white." We spoke for a few more minutes before I excused myself for a trip to the museum.

Three hours after arriving in Hiroshima our group had reunited on our tour bus and was headed for our hotel. I don't know what I expected, coming to Hiroshima, but it wasn't what I found. We were surrounded by mountains and river wherever we went.

The view from our hotel room

When I say that our trip was unexpected, it wasn't because of the Park, or even our beautiful surroundings. What surprised me the most was that the rest of our 3-day trip was basically a vacation. I can't deny that it was enjoyable, I loved our trip to the touristy islands of Hiroshima, only a ferry ride away. But it did bring about no small amount of discomfort. I get into this a bit more in the podcast, but suffice to say it was a thoroughly disconcerting weekend.

The reflection of a man in a creek

Taken outside the hotel

Itsukushima Shrine in Hiroshima

Day Hike in Kyoto

Graffiti in Tokyo

Two boys fishing in Osaka

My New Podcast

Sofia and I met over a year ago, but it wasn’t until we went abroad that we saw how much we had to talk about. We are both radical thinkers and spend considerable time connecting our education to identity and systems of oppression. It was three weeks ago that we began reflecting on how the academic sphere isolates radicals. Being that woman who’s always (seemingly) talking about gender, racism, classism, can undermine the degree to which people hear what you have to say. Studying in environments where radical perspectives are not the mainstream can be corrosive to free expression and communication. While this podcast is many things, it is not a place where radical thinking will be patronized or passively dismissed. You will not hear the showrunners say “but certainly not everything can be about ______.” We will never ask “Why are you so angry?” or say “let’s think about this more objectively.” This podcast is a forum for strong opinions and honest conversations. Please message us with questions on Facebook, follow us on Tumblr and Soundcloud.

Bra Burning + Buzzcuts has been a long time coming. It's very exciting to be experimenting with radio and exploring feminist topics with a new friend. If you get the chance, check it out. 

Coffee + Work in Kyoto