Ginzan Onsen- Northeast Japan's Living Snowglobe

Step back in time with me. Come crunch and slide down ancient paths where all signs of life are constantly eroded and white-washed over with snow. Where time freezes in a snowglobe of serene calm. Such is Ginzan Onsen, one of Japan's truly well-hidden treasures.

We drive through an endless maze between towering walls of white beckoning us forward. Soon, soon, they whisper. My 2001 Toyota Vitz cranks through the powder, also desperate for respite from the 2 and a half-hour drive from the coastal town of Nikaho in Akita prefecture. The drive had been pleasant with warm sunshine cascading through the windshield and glistening off blacktop roads. Tires hummed over smooth asphalt as easily as on a spring day. Once we turn off the beaten path, however, things got a bit interesting.

The road narrows and the snow spilling over into the middle of the street make for precarious passage. Orange mechanical giants whir down the street in a desperate attempt to clear away the white menace. Old buildings and houses line the way forward, not a conbini or supermarket to be seen. It's not the out-dated nature of the architecture or the utter lack of any signs of life besides old men and women wandering the street. It's how long the street seemed to continue forward. GPS and street signs desperately keeping their heads aloft above the drifts promise our destination is ahead, but my belief soon begins to fade as do the houses and other dwellings. Farther and farther back we go through time in a wormhole of ice and snow.

Finally, curving around one last bend, we breath a sigh of relief as a tiny hamlet materializes out of the valley. As we try to get our bearings and locate our ryokan, we are told that only foot-traffic is allowed down there. We're directed to go back up the hill to the parking space around the corner and wait for the van they will send for us. Back to the parking lot we go, gather our luggage, and the van arrives shortly as promised.

Down the hill we go, into the snowglobe where only feet and designated vehicles are allowed to tread. I'm reminds me of Disney Land and how all efforts are made to maintain the feeling of a self-contained universe completely separate from reality. Indeed, the only modern technology I see there outside the buildings are the occasional cellphone (which miraculously still get a signal way out there).

Kosekiya Bekkan

We arrive at Kosekiya Bekkan (古勢屋別館), one of the many gorgeous buildings lining the edges of the valley. The interior is warm and inviting with a golden glow. A professionally dressed smiling face is there to greet us. We are invited to take our valuable items with us and leave our luggage there so we can freely explore until check-in at 3pm. Finally, we've arrived at out home away from home.

Eager to stretch our cramped legs and start our adventures, we go to meet up with fellow JETs outside. We call out to greet them, but the perpetual thunder of the crashing river below drowns our voices. Thick, fluffy whiteness falls softly and gently to constantly remind us we are in true snow country. It covers everything, clinging to hair, melting into fabric, coating the bridges and windowsills in garland. In  Nikaho, the icy wind rips into your flesh and chills to the core. At Ginzan, it settles slowly and gently onto the skin and vanishes.

snow falls gently on Ginzan Onsen

There are many dining options ranging from little cafes specializing in sweet manju filled with red bean or edamame paste or curry bread and coffee sets to places with more hearty offerings such as soba noodles. Unlike the interior the of the hotel which is actually very modern, the cafes and shops maintain a preserved antiquity. We are directed to the second floor in our cafe of choice and find a few seating options despite its small size. There are tiny private booths separated by walls and curtains while the rest of the room opens into a more free and less intimate space with low tables and zabuton. Along the windows facing the town, there is a long, low bar where one can gaze at the falling now while sipping hot tea.

the foyer in Ginzan-sou

Travelers planning to arrived early can hit up any other hot springs in the area before they close shortly after noon. Fortunately, Kosekiya has a sister relationship with another onsen, Ginzan-sou (銀山荘). Guests at either ryokan are allowed to enjoy both onsen until guest closing time at 8:30pm absolutely free! Clerks in the lobby at reception will recognize sister-patrons by the provided yukatas (and jackets during winter) unique to each onsen and allow them entry. The shuttle can also ferry people to and from the onsens

Cozy!

Kosekiya offers rooms for up to six people with 4 futons and 2 western-style beds in separate rooms. Our room was very clean and spacious. After our guide admits lets us in, he explains the features of the room and their sister-relationship to Ginzan-sou.

Our package deal came with both dinner and breakfast served on the second floor. A little pamphlet introduced us to each dish served in Japanese and which order to eat them in. Ours started with the oh-so-necessary kampai with cherry-flavored wine in little heart-shaped cups. Dishes ranged from delicious steak pieces seared on your own little hot plate to fresh morsels of sashimi. To top it off were little cherry and pear-flavored offerings showing off Yamagata prefecture's specialty. Everyone left feeling full and ready to lounge the night away. Breakfast proved to be just as delicious and satisfying and endless refills of rice ensured everyone was prepared for the long journey home.

Renowned as an "onsen town", there are many options to choose from large outdoor "rotenburo" to a little footbath built into the walkway through town. Ginzan-sou offers a sizeable indoor bath in case of foul weather, but also connects to a bath outside the building wear you can sit in the hot water (and trust me, it will be HOT no matter what the ambient temperature) while snowflakes dot your skin with cold. To top that all off, another bath is connected via stairs with wooden seats built into the floor to lay back and lounge in to take in the the snowy vista. There is also a roof over this part of the bath in case you've had enough snowflakes falling on your head.

The other onsen I recommend is Takimi (瀧見) onsen. Like the name implies, this one boasts a stunning view of a waterfall! The building is located in the very back of the town and up quite a long,
but beautiful trek up a winding hill. Your best view of the waterfall will be on the way up. It's actually quite hard to spot from the actual bath unless you lean way out (which is very dangerous since it's on the edge of a cliff!). But after the arduous hike you'll be rewarded with a hot bath that also includes an indoor and outdoor area. The outdoor bath at Takimi is a little more "outdoors-y" in atmosphere since rotenburo at Ginzan-sou are still part of the main building while the outer wall of the pool in Takimi is made of rocks and stones giving it a more natural feel.

Fans of the world-renowned and award-winning Ghibli film Spirited Away will be delighted to know that Ginzan Onsen was one of the inspirations for the movie's mysterious, majestic setting at an enormous bathhouse along with Dogo Onsen (道後温泉) in Ehime prefecture. When the suns sets over the mountains, and the gas lamps cast soft shadows over the ancient buildings, you'll know you've entered the realm of the spirits.

Tohoku winters can be harsh and a pain to get through with lack of sunlight. Onsen are one of the best ways to keep your spirits up and your body warm and healthy. If you find yourself unable to flee to the tropical climes of Okinawa, why not look a bit closer to home? Great service, a fantastic setting, and hot, soothing waters wait for you at Ginzan Onsen.

See you there!

Inaka != Isolation

Three years ago, I spent an amazing year studying abroad in Tokyo. I met friends and had experiences I couldn't have had anywhere else and after I returned to the US, I was convinced I wanted to live and work there. One of my reasons for joining the JET Programme in the first place was to use it as an opportunity to gain experience and a high enough Japanese skill to get a job in Tokyo or Osaka.

Lately, I've been wondering if I was aiming for this for the wrong reasons...

I fell in love with Tokyo the moment I stepped out of Shinjuku Station and saw the sleek, elegant skyscraper buildings balanced with beautiful parks and shrines. Walking through the city at night was like walking through a fever dream. So many sights and sounds and things to do and so little time to do them in. Tokyo was a great distraction from my crappy part-time job and trying to pull the credits together for a diploma I wasn't sure how to turn into a career. And Tokyo is the grand metropolis of distraction. Karaoke bars everywhere, events and concerts going on every day, huge museums, expensive clubs, and one of the best railway systems in the world. "I could walk these streets for days and know not even half its wonders." (Yes, I just quoted Assassin's Creed, don't hate...) Compared to reality back home, getting lost in the city with a generous stipend from the government was paradise.

Yet whenever I had time to myself or walked down the crowded streets alone, I was amazed at how lonely one could feel among so many people. Besides the usual stare foreigners get every once in a while, people just pass by. No one cares. They had their own lives to worry about. The problem was that I didn't really have one.

Even in Milwaukee, I had started to feel that way. My close-knit circle of friends were graduating and moving on with their lives. And now it's happening again: my friends at Seijo are graduating and moving on. One of my best friends now lives in Nagoya and most of my international friends are back in their home countries moving on with reality. My social group has all but scattered and my social safety net is left in tatters.

There comes a point in our lives that we realize that nothing is truly permanent and that's hard concept to get used to. Most of us grow up in the same neighborhood with the same kids, the same neighbors, the same teachers. But all of that changes when you leave home to build a life apart from that safety net. Even those who stay with their family find everyone else going away. This cycle has repeated many times for me now and it doesn't seem to get easier.

However, when the dust settles on your social situation, you get to look back and see which relationships are still standing. You did have true friends all along, but you couldn't see them among the multitude of people you were trying to maintain connections with until people started moving out of your life. These are the people that are there for you no matter how far apart you are. The ones you can go months without speaking to and then strike up a conversation as if no time has passed at all. And it's worth the pain of losing those you thought were good friends.

Each time you repeat this process, the weak ties break, and you weave new, stronger bonds into your safety net.

Starting your life in Japan on JET is another iteration of this process. Most of us are recent graduates leaving the college life behind when we leave our home countries. We leave friends and family behind to start a new chapter and this can be especially challenging for us big-city folk since most us are placed way out in the countryside.

The abundant landscapes and mountains are gorgeous. I don't think any JET can deny that. However, after a whirlwind month of introductions, classes, conferences, eikaiwas, and other obligations being thrust upon us, we take a look around and think, "Is this it?" Let's be honest- the countryside isn't known for it's thriving nightlife or other such distractions. There aren't a whole lot of people your own age besides your fellow JETs.

Then the boredom sets in and the stage two culture shock takes hold and all you want to do is stay inside and re-watch The Office over and over. You feel a bit resentful because there's no one at work that understands what your going through and you have to carry on like nothing's wrong. You crave real pizza and burritos the size of your head, but there's none to be found.

But then, when you feel up to it, you start to reach out. You start that martial art you've always wanted to for the first time. You share a nice conversation with a fellow teacher and find you have things in common. You start to realize that there are people out there who care and want to help. You stop seeing events and enkais as obligations and more like opportunities. You take hobbies back up you didn't have time for before or start new ones. Slowly but surely, your social calendar starts filling up again.

We look inward and realize that while we can't do much to change anything outside, there is something inside that we've been ignoring for a long time. They say that the hardest person to live with is yourself, and you'll experience this firsthand on JET.  Because when there are no lights and sounds and crowds of young people to distract you, all that's left is yourself and you'll be shocked to feel like a stranger in your own skin.

One of the fifth-year JETs who left this year told me something that had to do with "creating a version of yourself you can take anywhere". Many people come here to leave behind a dreary life, but remember- you'll always have to live with your own demons no matter where you are. Escaping from them to a hedonist's paradise like Tokyo is just that- escapism. If you're looking for a brief distraction, great, but don't let distractions become and control your life. Don't become a hollow shell of a person that's only working for that next buzz alcohol and club music will bring.

One of my remaining close friends in Tokyo Skyped with me recently and she always asks me every time: "What is there to do there? Isn't it boring?" I laugh and agree there isn't much "to do" here. The problem is she means clubs, restaurants, amusements parks, etc. The truth is that I have a ton "to do" here in a different sense: I have kyudo, kendo, knitting, gaming, a mountain to climb in summer and ski down in winter, cultural events to see, community English events to participate in and I could go on. And if I do need more of a distraction, there is a huge Round One in Akita City...

And I've been surprised to realize that I'm just fine with the way things are. It may not be the most exciting, but life is pretty good. I've never felt more at peace with myself. Most of them may be over the age of 40, but I do have stable friends who won't be moving away. I've lost over 20 pounds and have never felt better about myself or my body. My relationship with my husband is the best it's ever been. He seems happier than he has in a while and we both have our share of issues.

JET is an opportunity and you have to grab onto and make the most of it if you want to get anything out of it. Don't waste away inside your apartment praying for time to accelerate to next summer so you can get the hell out of here. Try new things. Explore the area. Talk to people. Spend time with yourself. Take a mental inventory every once in a while and think about who you are and who you want to be when you leave the programme.

If February comes around and you decide it's time to go, make sure you can look back and say with satisfaction that you made the most of your time here. The countryside can be an experience in despair and isolation or magnificence and community. There are no obstacles, only challenges and learning experiences. Walking away and hiding from your problems doesn't solve them or make them go away. Don't hide away from the boundless opportunities in front of you. Don't hide away from yourself.

Break out of the cocoon and fly from the JET programme a better you.