leicht ist es nicht

ich hab immer mal wieder ganz begeisterte kommentare von freunden gehört, sowas wie 'das klingt alles so toll, was du schreibst' oder 'ich beneide dich!'. das freut mich - einerseits. andererseits macht es mir vor allem klar, wie einseitig ich oft schreibe. ich erzähle von den interessanten zeiten, und ich erzähle sehr positiv. das schwierige blende ich oft genug aus, oder erwähne es nur am rande. es scheint mir nicht erwähnenswert, oder ich will nicht jammern, oder es scheint mir nötiger vom nächsten eindrucksvollen field trip zu schreiben, oder - es ist mir auch oft zu persönlich gewesen. es ist so viel leichter, das fröhliche zu teilen, als das traurige, denn darin zeigt man die eigenen schwächen, und um ehrlich zu sein tue ich das nicht gern.
aber ich denke, es ist auch wichtig, denn ich bin grade dabei, ein halbwegs falsches bild darzustellen.
also - leicht ist es nicht, hier zu sein. wirklich nicht. warum? ich denke, es ist eine mischung aus der art, wie ich bin, die es mir nicht leicht macht, in der fremde zu sein, aus einem land, das mir viel abverlangt, und aus eienr lebenssituation, die zu verlassen mir schwer fiel.
wobei das natürlich alles ineinander übergeht.
letzteres zu erst: mir ist sind umfeld, meine freunde und familie sehr wichtig. und ich habe in marburg wirklich ein gutes umfeld gefunden. das, was ich mir da ganz alleine aufgebaut habe, zu verlassen, war nicht leicht. und dann auch noch mein freund, mit dem ich beim abflug erst ein halbes jahr zusammen war. in dieser zeit hatten wir fast jeden tag miteinander verbracht, und jezt auf einmal ein halbes jahr nur skype und briefe.
und ich bin halt auch ein sehr emfpindsamer mensch, darauf gepolt, sehr auf andere zu achten und mich so zu verhalten, dass es passt. eine tendenz, die ich im schloss (in marburg) ein wenig abzulegen gelernt hatte, die aber hier in japan ganz schlimm verstärkt wurde, bis ich vergessen hatte auch nur zu überlegen, was ich eigentlich will, weil ich so damit beschäftigt war herauszufinden, was mein gegenüber wollte. ich habe versucht, mich hier anzupassen, so gut es geht, aber das ist verdammt schwer, zumal ich die sprache auch nur bruchstückhaft beherrsche. es gibt hier so viele erwartungen, signale, höflichkeitsregeln, die ganz anders sind als in deutschland, und die man nur unterschwellig spürt, was einen gradezu paranoid machen kann bei der frage, wann man eigentlich grade wem auf den schlips tritt. dazu kommt, dass japaner generell eher zurückhaltend sind, was mich dazu bringt, mich auch möglichst zurückzuhalten. das geht bis in die haltung und körpersprache - weniger gestikulieren, füße zusammen, 'klein machen', nicht so auffallen wollen. aber auch sonst - nicht so laut reden, nicht so stark seine meinung ausdrücken, sich immer schön ordentlich benehmen, zurückhalten... wobei ich glaube, dass menschen, die in dieser kultur aufgewachsen sind und diese regeln alle (unterbewusst) kennen, mit ihnen wesentlich freier umgehen können, selbst entscheiden können, welche regeln sie befolgen und welche sie brechen, genauso wie ich  in deutschland meinen eigenen stil habe und nicht jeder erwartung entspreche. bloß, dadurch, dass all diese unterschwelligen regeln für mich fremd sind, weiß ich nicht, wie ich mit ihnen umgehen kann, wann ein bruch nur ein ausdruck 'eigenen stils' wäre und wann er eine unhöflichkeit ersten ranges darstellte.
dazu kommt, wie gesagt, noch das sprachproblem. es ist so unglaublich frustrierend, praktisch nichts lesen zu können, also zum beispiel keine reise alleine planen zu können, weil man die entsprechenden hompages kaum entziffern kann. wenn man irgendwelche infos nicht mitkriegt, weil man sie nicht lesen kann. wenn man mal weider lächelnd irgendwo dabei sitzt, ne weile versucht, der untrehaltung zu folgen, indem man alle bröckchen aufschnappt, die man kriegen kann, und dann irgendwann abschaltet, weils zu anstrengend wird. ich hätte mich mit so vielen leuten hier gerne mehr unterhalten, aber es geht einfach nicht, verdammt noch mal. und das liegt nicht nur an der fremdheit der japanischen sprache, und definitiv nicht daran, dass sie unlernbar ist, wie mancher japaner schon mit verquerem stolz behauptet hat, sondern daran, dass ich die zeit und ruhe nicht habe, mich da ordentlich ranzusetzen und den kram zu lernen. wenn ich hier grammatik, vokabeln, schriftzeichen pauken würde, dann wäre das ne andere geschichte, aber ich bin mit so vielem anderen beschäftigt und angestrengt, dass ich dafür den kopf nun wirklich nicht mehr frei habe.
und dann noch das ständige gast-sein. irgendwohin geschleppt zu werden, oft ohne zu wissen wohin und wie lange es dauern wird oder was eigentlich grad mit einem passiert, aber man muss ja dankbar sein, immerhin nehmensich die leute zeit und laden einen fast immer auch ein, auch wenn man das vielleicht gar nicht will, und so sitzt man da und isst lächelnd irgendein zeug, das man gar nicht haben will, und bestätigt auf nachfrage, wie toll doch alles war. und, ja, ich bin ja auch dankbar, und es ist ja auch vieles toll, aber es ist auch verdammt anstrengend, und alles immer auch noch lauthals toll finden zu müssen, macht es noch anstrengender.
dann kommt noch irgendwer daher und merkt, dass ich nicht ugt drauf bin, und macht sich gleich sorgen, was auch niemandem weiterhilft.
also wieder lächeln und so tun, als wäre alles in ordnung.
und das alleinsein - niemand da, den man länger kennt, alle freunde weit weg, und man muss alles alleine verantworten. klar, ich hab viel hilfsbereitschaft erlebt (gottseidank! sonst hätte ich einige schwierigkeiten mehr), aber organisieren muss ich doch alles selbst, von nachzuschickenden päckchen über busreservierungen für den nächsten nachtbus zu irgendwelchem offiziellen krams. da ist niemand, den ich grad mal bitten könnte, das mal für mich zu übernehmen.
und die fremdheit... klar, oberflächlich ist es nicht mehr so fremd, und ich werde nicht allein vom durch-die-straße-laufen müde, weil alles so neu und fremd ist, wie das am anfang der fall war. trotzdem, die straßen, die häuser, die landschaft, die menschen, das essen, alles ist anders als das, was ich kenne, was mir heimatlich ist. ich mag es, und ich habe mich daran gewöhnt, aber fremd ist es mir doch. es ist halt was anderes, ob man das alles erst seit 4 monaten sieht oder 23 jahre lang gesehen hat.
nein, leicht ist es wirklich nicht. fragt meinen freund, wie oft ich schon vor meinem computer gesessen und in die kamera geheult habe... vermutlich öfter, als er zählen will. dafür kann ich dann hier mein lächelndes gesicht zeigen. erst neulich, in yakushima, habe ich (wieder einmal) beschlossen, mich weniger anpassen zu wollen, mehr deutsch zu sein (also unhöflicher, direkter, weniger emfindlich die möglichen wünsche der anderen erahnen wollend) - und ein paar stunden später merkte ich: weiß ich denn noch, wie sich das anfühlt? mich einfach natürlich zu verhalten?
klar, ich habe immer wieder den wunsch 'bleib so, wie du bist' gehört. aber - was bedeutet das eigentlich, wenn man in einem umfeld ist, wo vieles anders verstanden, anders wahrgenommen wird? wo direktheit nicht so sehr als ehrlichkeit und mehr als affront verstanden wird, zum beispiel? oder was anders: in deutschland würden mich vermutlich schon viele menschen als freundlichen, zuvorkommenden menschen bezeichnen. wenn ich mich aber genauso wie in deutschland hier verhielte, würden mich die menschen vermutlich anders wahrnehmen. man muss sich ein stück weit 'übersetzen'. nur wie, ohne dabei sich selbst zu verlieren? anpassen ja, aber... wie?
tjaja. in kyoto hab ich mich auf diese reise gefreut, weil sie mich ablenken würde vom langsamen verstreichen der zeit. gleichzeitig wusste ich, wie anstrengend es sein würde. nun, beides hat sich bestätigt. der januar ist schon rum (was für ein glück!), aber es ist auch wirklich schwierig. nicht nur, aber auch. auf der reise ist das fremd-sein, gast-sein, sich ständig an andere häuser, menschen, lebensweisen anpassen noch stärker und verlangt mir noch mehr ab. gleichzeitig bin ich eben auch wirklich mehr abgelenkt, und ich sehe unglaublich viel und lerne.
ja, diese ganze wahnsinnige geschichte wird mal ein großer schatz an erfahrungen und wissen sein, und ich werde oft daran zurückdenken und  aus diesem schatz schöpfen, und auch stolz darauf sein, das hingekriegt zu haben, und es gibt ja auch viele gute erinnerungen.
ich wollte einfach nur das bild mal ein bisschen graderücken.

where the hell did i end up?

...i've been asking myself several times now. and many times have i though 'unfug! das ist alles unfug!' (http://dict.leo.org/ende?lp=ende&lang=de&searchLoc=0&cmpType=relaxed&sectHdr=on&spellToler=&search=unfug) sorry, i can't find a proper english word for that.
so, let me tell you. i am in a zen temple, in a small village near oita. and this place is not a monastery but a simple village temple. well, i had expected something more monastic, with a clear daily structure and lots of learning about the meaning of zen. instead, i have a first-hand experience of what a simple priest is doing - and i am shocked by how little that is. but i'll discuss that later.
the priest is very friendly, and he speaks good english and is easy to talk to, so we are having lots of discussions, which i like. i even feel i can disagree without being impolite, so it takes some strain from me. but. it seems i had the bad luck of ending up with someone who learned something about some obscure health system and is convinced that most illnesses in the modern world come from eating too much. on the other hand, he also believes that even diseases such as cancer and multiple sclerosis can be cured easily if the patient just stops eating breakfast. (and eats a good deal less in total.) which is outrageous, and makes me angry if i remember people suffering from malnutrition or anorexia. plus, it shows the one tendency of this fellow with which i totally disagree: he seems to be way too convinced. this is a state of mind i most definitely disagree with - i think it's very important to keep your mind open, always being able to question yourself. and if he loftily dismisses some things as 'fashion' (such as eating only raw food), but sees his own method as the one way to cure everything without even realizing that those fashions and his ideas are not so differnt...
well, it makes me feel disappointed.
but, at least i can argue with him.
so, my day here starts at 5:20 (dammit!), with chanting sutras (well, he chants, i just sit there) and sitting in zazen (meditation) for one hour. and, to be honest... i always rather liked meditation the few times i'd tried until now, and i felt i might like doing it longer, so i can get the hang of it, but after two mornings (and evenings again, but shorter) of sitting there, feeling colder and colder, being so tired i could sleep again, and worrying about my running nose, i have a hunch that i might just not be cut out for this. anyway, my life is not so busy right now that i feel the need to stop and be as quiet as possible. on the contrary, i am getting sick of all this introspection. i am a pretty introspective person anyway, and that's enough for me.
whatever. these two days, three women from the village joined the meditation, as they do every weekend. they are very friendly, and much less 'polite' than the people i met in the cities. anyway, people here in kyushu (or is it that they are rural people?) seem much more direct, even looking me in the eye, bowing much less and not excusing themselves all the time, which lets me feel less like an elephant in a porcelain shop. it feels more natural to me, and less easy to adapt to (for an impolite german such as i am).
so, after zazen, the ladies stayed for tea. i, however, was supposed to have only fresh cold water and a drink of some milky white substance that is supposed to 'clean up my intestines', which it does, if that means it makes me having diarrhea. though i have not yet understood what good that does.
so, no beakfast. then samu (work), and then whatever. yesterday, the priest took me to a monastery-temple in oita, where he had stayed several years himself. that was pretty impressive - just see their deep bows, and the coldness and simpleness of the place... i was especially shocked when i saw the zendo, the place where they have their zazen, and learned that this is also where they sleep! it is a simple room, with a earthen floor and a buddha statue in the middle. around the room on the walls is a line of tatami (rice-straw) mats, like a balcony inward. under the tatami are wooden boxes. each monk has one tatami mat - that is his 'room'. and a tatami mat is just big enough for sleeping on it... and the place is friggin' icy! and i bet they don't have hundreds of blankets, like i do.
then, there is lunch, and then a free afternoon, but what to do with free time in the middle of nowhere? it makes me feel bored, and kind of lonely. and then, after supper (and a hot bath), there is zazen and sutra chanting again.
this sutra chanting is quite interesting. the priest sits there, chanting the old japanese, barely understandeable text of some sutra in a monotonous voice, rising and falling rhythmical, accompanying himself by hitting a kind of woodblock and sometimes also hitting one of two singing bowls (klangschalen). if have not yet been able to figure out when and why these bowls are hit, even though i asked. i have the impression there is more tradition and less 'meaning' behind it.
so, about the work of the priest - there really isn't much to write. i had heard a lot about how buddhism in japan ended up being only 'funeral buddhism'. well... at least here, it is true. indeed, all this priest does for being a priest is holding the funeral rites and memorial ceremonies, and doing zazen and chanting every day. if i compare that to the busy life of my parents, who are christian pastors...
but, then again, he doesn't get any salary, only what he earns while performing those ceremonies. but he has the house, which is big and could be wonderful, if it was taken care of and arranged that way. he also has a vegetable garden, and i think he found some business taking people from abroad in to teach them about zen.
ah, i didn't yet tell you about my newest folly, didn't i? i stupidly agreed to try to fast the whole day. yesterday night was my last meal, which only consisted of rice soup and pickles, and tomorrow lunch will be the first again, with the same. this night i already dreamt about tasty food... well, let's see, it's another experience, and - why not.
the good thing is, i have internet, so i can keep myself occupied. because today i got a free day, whatever that is worth in the middle of nowhere. i could take a walk, but it is very cold outside, and inside is not much better - this morning my room had the confortable temperature of 4°C. so it takes long to get warm again, and since i am lying confortably in my bed (well, at least mostly comfortable, because writing on a laptop while having it literally on your lap is somewhat uncomfortable), i am not inclined to risk the warmth i have here. it was hard enough to warm the blankets up! and, anyway, without food in my stomach my taste for doing something is even less.
ah, what a day! unfug! but at least it's not long, and it truly is an experience. and don't worry, i will not judge all zen places after this one.
maybe i'll take some pictures later, but somehow this place is so unbeautiful that i didn't feel like it yet.

eruption

well, actually i hadn't planned on writing more today. two long posts really is enough, for you as well as for me! but since i am live close to this eruption, i will give you some coverage.
it started yesterday, when mítsumi and i were driving right to the highland around that mountain, and i wondered if the smoke there was normal.
then, yesterday evening, kijima came home and announced he had seen the volcano erupting, had even seen lava. i was disappointed, since we had been closer, but hadn't sen anything but a cloud of smoke.
well, today i went out of the house only around noon, to post some mail. walking, i suddenly saw the big cloud of ash coming from the mountain, and realized the smell i had thought to be burning smell from someone burning wood was actually comingform that ash.
after taking some pictures, i returned home to write those articles and finish packing. i only looked out when i felt the house shaking and rattling. then, i realized how much bigger the cloud of ash had become. since then, it has been growing and growing, ash and stones shooting out of the volcano, the cloud is growing so quickly now! sometimes, i could evne hear a low rumbling, and the house has been rattling again and again. on the internet, i found some info, saying this might be kirishima's biggest explosion since the 50s. an air warning has been issued, and some highways are closed. i hope i can get to oita tonight!
well, let's see. since kijima is back, i am not so nervous anymore. if anything should happen, at least he knows the place, has a car and can understand japanese warnings. anyway, it seems the whole affair is too far away to be a danger. only, since i have no experience  with volcanic eruptions, i have nothing to compare this with, no information on which to judge this whole thing.
anyway, here are the pictures.

unfortunately, my camera doesn't have sound.
i'll keep you updated on the volcano...

well, it seems it calmed down now. i hope so...

yakushima

well, as i said, yakushima was another story and i want to give it the space it deserves. only, i just wrote the kagoshima II article, which, as you might have realized, ended up pretty long (sorry!), and i am actually not in the mood to write another entry, especially since i also have to write a official report about my time in kyoto for my programm. but if i don't write this entry now, when will i have the time for it? so i'll try my best.

so. yakushima. a small island south of kagoshima, four hours by ferry (less by speedboat, but that's more expensive). several people had recommended me to go there, and i had the time, so why not? sounded nice.
i had no idea...

at the ticket counter

off i go...

farewell greeting from sakurajima (yes, that's no cloud, that's ash)

inside the ship: perfect for sleeping.

coming there, after leaving kagoshima 7:00 in the morning, i was excited. how would it be? how would it be to travel completely on my own? and then i saw the island. steeply rising out of the ocean, hill-sides climbing high to mountain-peaks, green forest shrouded in mist, but the clouds parted here and there and shafts of light slit through. fuji's words rung in my ears; 'magical', yes, and 'the place that inspired princess mononoke' (an anime movie). indeed, i could immediately imagine some forest deity looking out from those woods.

the owner of the inn i was staying in picked me up. he seemd friendly, and the place was comfortable. however, since it was really off-season, i was the only guest.

after having setteld in (following my first travel rule: unpack everything), i went to explore. all the time i looked to the mountains again and again. i wanted to go there immediately, walk through there! but it was already afternoon, too late for that. instead, i decided to take the bus down south.
well... the buses. they were my main source of frustration during the next days. so few, and the last bus so early (around five, six o'clock). thus, i ended up doing nothing on that first day but going south and back, with no time to do anything there.

but on the next morning i went into the mountains. there is one ravine close to miyanoura, the port city where i stayed, and a bus takes you up there.
so, finally. the forest. though the weather on the coast was quite warm (it's subtropical, and it was about 10°C and more in the sun), up in the mountains it was cold. there were many hiking tracks, and also some other hikers, so i didn't have to worry. so i started. into that deep, old forest.
well, what can i say? it was magical. those trees... old, twisted, beautiful. the whole forest felt kind of alive. i almost expected those little white forest spirits to come out and look at me. and i felt like an intruder, hoping that i wouldn't disturb anything. there was water running everywere, small trickles and stronger mountain streams. there was snow, little at first, but more the further i went inside. it became harder and harder to follow the path, i had to be careful to avoid slipping, and while climbing up i really worried how i would get down again. there was moss, and undergrowth, and birds, and stones - some of them huge, reminding me that this, too, was a volcano. and then, after some time (maybe two hours?), i suddenly ended up at the taiko rock which commands a wide view over the inland - more forest, and mountains, rising higher and completely covered in white. the weather was beautiful, which is unusual for this island (famous for its frequent rainfall), and you could see far.
(by the way: sorry, this article might have more mistakes in it than usual. i can't concentrate so well, since there is a volcano erupting right in this backyard.)
however beautiful, the climb back wasn't much fun, and at the end i was swearing at everything alternately - the slippery snow, my damn boots (completely soaked through), my foolishness for not taking a stick with me, the fact that i was alone...
even though i was alone, i had many friendly short meetings. many people were surprised to see a foreigner (two young guys from kumamoto immediately asked for a picture with me) and started a conversation with me. unfortuntely, due to my damn bad japanese, it could never be more than just small talk. oh, it is so frustrating!
the next day i went around the shoreline, to see ohko no taki (a waterfall), the beach with pillow-shaped lava (well, didn't see much pillow in the shapes, but the beach was stunning nevertheless), the beach where sea turtles lay their eggs in summer, etc. it worked surprisingly well, despite the buses.
ah, and i saw monkeys twice.
during my last night, i woke up at night and listened to the wind howling around the house. usually, that gives me a homely feeling. but there, i just felt how fragile this house is, how fragile the human existence on that island is, on a small strip of flat land between towering mountains and roaring sea. it reminded me of something i had learned during my studies in kyoto: in shinto, many things can be holy/places where deities live. but the most important are the mountains and the sea. and i wondered if humans really should live on that island, because it felt more 'deity-having' than any other place i've encountered so far. indeed, i felt you should have to go through a torii when you arrive on that island.

some of those cedars ar several thousand years old...

this is the path

this is so big, i could have crawled through without ducking

just to give you an idea of the size of those trees

weihnachtssterne! büschehoch!

sea turtel's nesting ground

i guess it's a mangrove

sayonara!

on the way back i was seasick...