A Whole Lotta Learnin'

Do you guys like messy stories? This one starts out M.E.S.S.Y.

Don't worry, I continue to give way too much detail and get far more personal than is necessary. We're sorta back in essay territory to start but don't worry we get back into your regularly scheduled mildly-funny travel blog after the extremely lengthy tale of my first night in Osaka!!

I sincerely apologize because this post is way longer than the other posts which were already way longer than they should have been. But I had some things to say!!

I will note that I've changed some names to keep things anonymous, since this is not exactly the most flattering portrayal of some of the people I met. But it's also not the most flattering portrayal of myself and my name is literally plastered on top of this website! So at all the parts where I come off as less-than-perfect, just imagine that my name is Joaquin instead and that the real Jamie is busy helping people with subway etequitte.

Anyways... Strap in!

June 16-18: Osaka

I flew from Okinawa to Osaka, finally reaching mainland Japan. Woo!! The big island!! On the bus from the airport, I got a view of most of Osaka, and it appeared to be a standard large Japanese city. It's the third most populous city in Japan and has traditionally been considered Japan's economic hub. Nowadays it's most famous (at least to tourists) for its nightlife in the Dotonbori neighborhood, Osaka castle, and Universal Studios.

I checked into my hostel and went to hang out in the lobby common area to hopefully meet a few folks and make plans for the evening. A group of people who were going out began to come together, and we sat around drinking beer from the vending machine and playing cards. By the way Japan has beer vending machines because Japan absolutely rules.

We were getting ready to head out but folks were waiting for "Blake," another guy staying at the hostel who had garnered a bit of a reputation—each of the previous three nights, he'd gone out and then come back to the hostel with a different girl. One of the guys I was talking with had had an awkward interaction earlier that day where he ran into Blake out to lunch with a girl, said "Oh hi! Are you the girl from last night?" and was informed that she was not aware there had been a "girl from last night." As he told me this story, a group of three girls who were not staying at our hostel arrived and said that they were there looking for Blake because they were all going out for dinner together. Because of course they were.

After about an hour, Blake had still not arrived, and so we walked to the nearby Shinkensai Market so we could get some food before everywhere was closed. Shinkensai was pretty gross and very touristy. Despite Japan's reputation of being so clean and litter-free, there were cigarette butts and trash all over the street. There were tons of shops advertising a "samurai experience", which seemed to be archery-themed carnival games. Many of the restaurants had massive kitschy figures all over the top and advertised all their food and drink options with massive photos outside.

We went to one of these restaurants on the main intersection of the market, and despite the ambiance being so gross and so touristy, the food and drinks were... Really bad. So gross. I didn't know a highball—which seems to be the go-to mixed drink in Japan—could taste that bad. I'd had several in Okinawa, and always been delighted as someone who likes whiskey, and especially the lighter Japanese whiskey. But these highballs were nasty, and so was the Takoyaki, an Osaka special of fried octopus and cheese balls which is normally actually really super delicious!! Although in this spot, it was not.

Finally, Blake arrived. He was a 6'1" Texan, extremely charming and handsome, and absolutely shredded. Apparently he'd played quarterback at a major SEC school. Everything was beginning to click. The three girls who had come to meet him left, as it had gotten late and they didn't drink, and so we were down to a group of six of us—me, Blake, a German guy "Jonas", a Florida guy "Jack", an Indian guy "Tom", and an Illinois girl "Lia". We had a couple more drinks and prepared to leave for a club, and we chatted about how Jonas spoke so many languages and how hard Japanese is but how much Japanese people appreciate it when you say just a few phrases and how so do people in Latin America and how the French are so mean and rude if you even attempt to speak French to them and how they're so annoying and pretentious and it was all fun and silly and playful making fun of the French, which is honestly one of my favorite things to do. Then Blake said, "Yeah, if there's two groups of people I can't stand, it's the French and the Jews."

It was suddenly not so fun and not so silly and not so playful.

I spit out my highball, which honestly was not that hard since it tasted terrible, and my face made an expression of such shock and horror that everyone immediately noticed, and of course asked, "Are you Jewish?" I responded, "Well, not technically, but my grandfather was and I sure love all my Jewish friends and family!" Lia said, "Damn, it would have been so funny if you were."

So many of my best friends in the world are Jewish. I was briefly in my college's Jewish fraternity. One of my friends often calls me a "stolen valor Jew" due to my nose and hair and face and general way of existing in the world. And I've experienced light antisemitism directed at me in the past. But it's been playful, usually with at least an attempt at humor and from someone who I know would stand up to defend their Jewish friends and neighbors in the face of true hate. This was the first time I'd seen it so proud, so blatant, and the first time I'd seen a statement about actually hating a group of people treated with such complete indifference.

There's a few different versions of what happens next.

There's the Daytime TV Special version where I stand up and say, "Hey! You know what? Jewish people are just like you and me, and you need to treat them with love and respect!" and he responds, "You're right! We're all just people at the end of the day and we have more in common than separates us!" and we high five and sing Hava Nagila and dance The Hora together.

There's the Instagram Hero version where I punch him in the face, knocking him out with a single punch, and get paraded through the streets of Osaka as a hero, forever enshrined as a freedom fighter and true ally and they construct an entire new version of Osaka Castle but three times larger in my honor.

There's the more realistic version of the previous scenario where I wind up for a punch and then get the amazing immersive experience of seeing in detail how the Japanese healthcare system works.

There's the version where I just leave, because do I really want to spend the rest of the night with a proud antisemite?

The version that actually happened is that I didn't leave, and I stuck with the group, and we all went out together. Part of me felt like maybe I can show him that Jew-ish people aren't actually so bad and so maybe he doesn't need to hate them. Part of me knew he was someone I would never see again and didn't actually have to interact with, so it wasn't actually a big deal. And a way bigger part of me felt like I should have done more, I should have said more, I should have at least tried to make a difference. But I was alone in a foreign country, and I wanted to have a fun night, and I knew I wouldn't change his mind, and I didn't want to ruin the night for everyone else in the group. So I avoided a confrontation and we went out.

Weirdly, my night out with the antisemite turned out to be a horrible experience practically from start to finish. Turns out Karma's pretty powerful in a country where most people practice Buddhism.

We headed to Dotonbori, Osaka's famous nightlife district, where we started at an "all-you-can-drink" spot. In Japan this is a thing because most people there are sensible human beings, unlike in the states where anywhere that did this would likely both run out of money and be burned to the ground within 72 hours. We had an hour to drink as much as we wanted for 2000 yen (approximately $12.00) and I got my money's worth, although to be honest, the drinks were god-awful and came from what looked like a 5-gallon shampoo bottle, so I probably didn't actually get my money's worth despite how many I choked down. Whiskey. Whiskey. Whiskey. The bar let you smoke indoors and was mostly full of young people trying to get as drunk as possible as fast as possible. Sex workers danced on top of tables next to a DJ booth, and I watched a Japanese man put money in his mouth and lie down so one of them could lie down on top of him and remove it with her mouth. It was a really classy spot. Side note: sex work is technically illegal in Japan, but the law around it is so strictly defined and the loopholes are so broad that it is essentially legal—some estimates say that it is a $24 billion dollar industry, which puts it at roughly 1% of Japan's GDP. Based on what I saw in Osaka, this was really super unsurprising.

When our hour expired, we moved on to the next bar, which had a techno show that Jack had said he wanted to see. We quickly discovered that we were the only people there besides the DJ's friends. I talked to the friendly bartender, did a shot with him, and watched as Jonas and Lia began to make out. Good for Jonas, I thought. He seemed like a really nice guy. We quickly left for another club, and I once again said nothing as Blake complained about the immigrants that were ruining our country. It was really difficult to guess his politics—the guy's a total enigma.

This club was full of fun young people dancing and there was a massive patio overlooking the river and the Don Quijote ferris wheel, and I actually started to have fun! I met some friendly Danish folks and drunkenly blabbed to them about how Copenhagen was my favorite city in the whole world ever and they drunkenly blabbed to me about their messy and complicated and recent breakups. Jonas came over to check on me and asked if I was alright after what Blake had said earlier. It was thoughtful, and I was very touched, and we talked about how the German education system had done an amazing job in terms of education on antisemitism, and how saying something like what Blake said would be one of the worst things you could possibly comprehend doing as a German. I really appreciated the conversation about cultural differences and the role of education in preventing bigotry, but then we noticed Lia and Jack making out and Jonas was less interested in our conversation and more interested in stopping that.

This club shut down the patio at 3 AM, and it was a Monday night after all, so we decided to go home. Just kidding! Of course there was yet another club we had to check out. Blake still hadn't found a girl yet, after all. This one had a massive, nearly-empty dance floor, save for some sex workers dressed as rabbits. As Blake went over and began talking to them, I immediately called an Uber, informed the group that I was leaving, and was asleep before I hit the pillow at 4:03 AM. All in all, Osaka was off to a weak start. More like O-suck-a, am I right???

Yeesh, sorry. For the pun and the insult. To be honest, I don't think it's fair to blame Osaka for that terrible evening with terrible vibes. Obviously, a part of it is the shitty clubs and the massive sex work industry that seems to be a huge part of the city's culture and identity. But also part of it was choosing to spend my night with someone who had revealed within minutes of meeting him that he was not someone worth spending time with. All in all, it was a valuable learning experience that I don't know I actually needed to have.

I reluctantly woke up bright and early the next morning since I needed to check out of the hostel. Later that day, I was going to meet up with Pradz, a college comedy friend, and his college friends Lucas, Anabel, and Mika. We'd be traveling together for the next week, and so we had an AirBnb booked for our night together in Osaka. I had a lot of time to kill in between checkout at 10 AM—okay, yeah, I was being dramatic about "bright and early"—and their arrival at 4 PM. I was exhausted and violently hungover, and I wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep. I Googled "where to take a nap Osaka" and got some great recommendations, including one that someone in Okinawa had actually already recommended to me, so I immediately set off to the promised land: SPA WORLD.

SPA WORLD is an enormous 6-story spa and hotel complex. It features a co-ed "European" spa on the fourth floor, a women-only Japanese spa on the fifth floor, and men-only Japanese spa on the sixth floor, as well as game rooms, saunas, cafes, and swimming pools/water slides. It's open from 10 AM until 8:45 AM. Not PM—AM the next morning. The reason that Onsens (Japanese spas) tend to be separated by gender is that clothing is not allowed in the bathing areas. So I decided that the perfect hangover cure would be spending the morning naked with dozens of random Japanese men. We've all been there.

I moved from room to room—each one has a different country that it's themed after—and from pool to pool and sauna to sauna for about an hour before eventually settling down on the outdoor patio where I joined the 30 Japanese men in napping in lawn chairs. It was delightful and washed away all of the bad vibes of the previous night along with 85% of my hangover.

Following a schvitz and a soak and a nap and a shower and a massage chair and a smoothie—I'm telling you, you NEED to go to SPA WORLD—I met up with my travel companions and we set off to explore Osaka. We walked through Kuromon Market, a huge covered market with tons of great food stalls, and then through Shinkensai, the touristy area where I'd started the previous evening. We all agreed never to go back there ever again.

I had wanted to see a Don Quijote, because I'd heard that I absolutely needed to while in Japan, and so we went to one that was next to Shinkensai. Don Quijote is like if you took a Walmart and a Dave & Busters and then made them Japanese and put all of their inventory in a space half as large. It sells almost anything you can think of and also things that you did not know existed. There are hundreds of displays, all of which are blasting jingles, and the sensory overload is insane. As mentioned earlier, one of them in Dotonbori—there are multiple in the same neighborhood, which is insane because each of them individually contains every good known in the universe—has a ferris wheel.

For dinner, we strolled through Dotonbori, and ducked into a side street where we found an adorable sushi restaurant. We'd ask for a fish—the menu helpfully put the japanese pronunciation of each kind—and the chef would prepare it immediately for us. He gave us origami cranes that could flap their wings, and when I put mine on my head, he gave me an origami samurai hat instead. For the rest of the trip, we'd refer to him as our original "Japanese Grandpa". There would be more Japanese Granpdas, but he was our first <3

We continued a little food crawl through Dotonbori, picking up walking-around beers at a Family Mart (convenience store) since Japan allows drinking on the street. I guess most of the world allows this too, and as an American it's always nice to get a taste of true freedom.

We took apparently iconic pictures with the apparently iconic "Glico Man", who sits in the middle of Dotonbori and advertises candy by running.

Eventually, we headed to a restaurant/bar that specializes in yuzu (a popular east-Asian citrus) since some of the crew had become obsessed with it since arriving in Japan. We got our own private compartment, and the yuzu drinks were delicious.

We capped the night off with private-room karaoke, and I have to say, nights out are WAY better when you're (a) with friends and (b) not with antisemites.

The next morning, we grabbed breakfast from stalls in Kuromon market and headed to check out Osaka Castle. The scale of the castle is unbelievable. I'd seen a few European castles, and I'd been to the castle ruins in Okinawa, but Osaka Castle makes them look like they were meant for babies. Is that insensitive? I'd be pretty upset if I literally died defending something that someone later said was meant for babies. Sorry to anybody reading this who has ever died defending a castle that's not Osaka Castle.

The castle grounds take up practically an entire neighborhood, and the walls and moats are enormous. I cannot even imagine the idea of trying to attack it, and it was unsurprising to learn that in 1614, the castle defended itself against 200,000 troops despite having half that number. That's not baby numbers. The museum inside of the castle's main tower was slightly underwhelming, although it offered a nice 360-degree view on the top floor. I guess that's sorta the point of a castle tower, now that I think about it...

June 18-19: Hiroshima

We hopped on the Shinkansen (bullet train) to Hiroshima, and I was delighted to discover that I was not the only person going absolutely insane at how cool the train was. As one of us put it, "all Yalies have a little bit of the train autism." In Japan, it's even better than in Taiwan—if you want to get from point A to point B, you can just show up at the train station and there will be a seat on a high-speed train leaving in 20 minutes or less guaranteed. Trains run between Kyoto and Tokyo on average every 9 minutes. GAAAH ITS SO AWESOME IT RULES WOOO GO TRAINS WOOOO

Sorry about that. It's just... TRAINS

For dinner, we went to Sushiro, the same conveyor-belt sushi restaurant that I'd been to in Taiwan. And I gotta say... the Taiwanese one was better. In Taiwan, you had the low-speed commuter rail on the bottom, where you could grab whatever you saw and eat it, in addition to the high-speed rail on top for the things that you specifically ordered. This Japanese Sushiro only let you get the things you specifically ordered, at which point they would come directly to you. So like high-speed rail without the commuter rail. And don't get me wrong I love that and it's amazing and awesome and we need more of it in America. But I like it best when there's both! Was this about trains or conveyor belt sushi? You can be the judge of that.

We capped the night off at a local izakaya two blocks from our AirBnb called Saloon George. Izakayas are traditional Japanese pubs—very small bars/restaurants that usually have 1-2 people working there, doing all of the cooking and serving drinks. This place was a great little neighborhood spot, and even though they didn't speak any English, the waiter/bartender/chef happily obliged us when we asked for three (hand gesture) "beeru". Some Japanese is easy.

The next day, we walked over to the Hiroshima Peace Park. It sits directly beneath where the atomic bomb detonated, and contains several beautiful sculptures, an eternal flame, a memorial monument, and the Peace Memorial Museum.

This is one of the most powerful museums I have been to in my life. It felt important as an American to see and understand the human consequences of the atomic bomb. Growing up we'd debated the ethics of using the atomic bomb in our US history class, and while obviously it's not a straightforward "US bad Japan good", understanding the scale of the tragedy on a deeper level gave me a lot more perspective than the abstract numbers we'd discuss and read about in class. The museum is focused on individual stories of those affected by the bomb—victims, survivors, and those close to the victims and survivors. It was dead silent other than the sound of shuffling feet and stifled crying, myself included. But it also ends with a hopeful message, and its main goal is to promote peace and the abolition of nuclear weapons around the world. They are very clear—let's learn from this, and let's make sure this never happens again to anybody.

As we exited the museum and sat in the park, we were approached by several groups of youths. Normally, youths scare me, but these Japanese youths were incredibly polite and shy and so I was at ease because I am also often polite and shy. They read a script, trading off lines and explaining to me that they were students at Hiroshima's Junior High School, that they would be doing a project where they would eventually lead a guided tour through the museum, and they were interviewing people who were coming to visit Hiroshima for the first time. They asked how the park made me feel, how the museum made me feel, and how I felt about the idea that we should get rid of nuclear weapons and promote peace (I said "yes! I agree!"). They thanked me profusely for my time, gave me a paper crane, and we all took a selfie.

The children factor is really what gets me. In the museum, the stories of the children killed by the atom bomb are what brought me to tears. And similarly, these children who are working towards building a better world also made me quite emotional. I reflected on my night in Osaka and the conversation I'd had with Jonas. The power that education has to work towards building a better world is, like, duh, so obvious. It's so frustrating because we know what happens when we don't invest in it—how hatred and division can become so normal and so encouraged. And how when we put resources towards it, when we learn lessons from tragedies, how we can inspire the next generation to be better.

Damn. Now I'm emotional all over again.

We decompressed over lunch at a local spot nearby with Okonomiyaki, a dish that Hiroshima is famous for. It's a pancake dish that consists of battered and fried noodles with a lot of sauces and other toppings, including oysters in Hiroshima. This place offered a 10 oyster version—Hiroshima is famous for its oysters—and so of course I had to get that and of course it was phenomenal.

We walked over to the 16th century Shukkei Garden. It was a beautiful and peaceful way to decompress from the heavy morning, although nearly everything in Hiroshima contains memorials of the fallout of the atomic bomb. In this case, the remains of many people who had fled to the park or been buried there. There was a memorial to them there, and the garden was peaceful and quiet and beautiful.

The bamboo portion was so pretty I nearly forgot about the fact that I hate bamboo with my entire heart and soul. If you've never had to deal with unwanted bamboo growth, you know where I'm coming from. And if you haven't, pray you never do.

Anabel and I took a delightful four mile run along the river, coming across a ball. We had a ball.

We ended the day with dinner at a yakitori spot. Yakitori is a traditional Japanese cooking style where you grill chicken skewers. "Oh, so boring." you're probably saying (if you don't know what yakitori is). Yakitori is different because it uses every part of the chicken. Like, every part. So we ordered skewers of chicken breasts and wings alongside chicken tails, chicken livers, chicken kidneys, chicken gullets, and more. I loved all the parts I expected to and also all the parts I didn't expect to, so big points to yakitori. It was entirely run by a single man who was doing all the cooking, the seating, and the serving. King.

June 20: Miyajima

We took the ferry to Miyajima Island. Well, "Miyajima" directly translates to "First Island", so calling it "Miyajima Island" means you're saying "First Island Island." I guess it's like the "Chai Tea" of islands. It's technically actually called Itsukushima, but most people refer to it as Miyajima because it is the nearest island to the mainland at Hiroshima. But there are also TONS of other islands in Japan called Miyajima because there are tons of islands that are closest to mainland Japan at various points across the country. Anyways, we went there.

This island is famous for several things—first of all, the deer.

We saw probably 30-50 of them wandering through the streets, blocking doorways to restaurants, hiding from the rain, and one who bit a tourist. I didn't actually see it happen, but I heard a scream and saw a girl running away from a deer nursing her arm as her boyfriend cackled and took photos.

Second of all, the Itsukushima Jinja shrine and its famous "floating Torii Gate".

They are designed so that at high tide, they appear to be floating above the water, and as the tide recedes, you can walk all the way out and under the gate. We arrived just in time to see it at the high tide, and as we left, the shrine was nearly entirely on dry land. I loved this idea of intentionally incorporating the tides into the architecture. Good job, 12th century monks!

The shrine was also nice because it offered shelter from the rain. It was pouring for most of the morning, and I quickly learned that my newly-purchased UNIQLO raincoat was definitely not actually a raincoat. I managed to keep my spirits afloat with the beauty of the island and the fact that the woman who served us lunch looked at me and said "very handsome," which caught me so off guard since I looked and felt like I had been drowned. I immediately responded "you too!" and my friends gave me their best "are you fucking kidding me" expressions.

Third of all, delicious leaf-shaped red-bean/custard filled maple leaf-shaped momiji cakes that are made fresh in dozens of spots across the island. There are several factory-style operations going, and I'm sure they produce tens of thousands each day. They were delicious and I could have eaten dozens of them but I thought about the shrine and the monks and their amazing self-restraint and removal of desire for earthly pleasures and so I was really strong and only ate six of them.

Fourth of all, Daishoin, an amazing 9th century temple complex built halfway up the mountain, alongside a loud river flowing down from the mountaintop. There were several beautiful buildings, as well as hundreds of little statues, all of which had been given tiny knit hats.

Most of them were of monks or babies, but I found my favorite, which I affectionately referred to as "busty frog."

Because it was a busty frog.

Underneath the largest temple was a particularly cool feature, where you entered into a pitch-black room, put your hand against the left wall, and walked forward through the darkness, seeing 88 different artifacts representing the 88 temples associated with the Shikoku pilgrimage, a famous Buddhist pilgrimage across Japan. I did not know what this room was when I first walked in, so when I realized I was in the pitch black I had a mild panic attack, attempted to turn around, and bumped into a not-so-happy Japanese man before I managed to fight my way past him back into the daylight. Then I read the three signs directly and obviously displayed in front of the entrance explaining what to do, walked through the entire thing, and really appreciated the experience of passing through the darkness into the light—a metaphor for attaining enlightenment. It still didn't stop me from eating three more momiji cakes on the way back to the ferry.

We took the ferry back from Miyajima, soaked and on the verge of contracting trench foot, and caught a high-speed train (LETS FUCKING GO TRAINS ARE BACK YAAA LETS GOOOOOO TRAINS WOOOO) to Okayama, then transferred to a local line to Uno, a small seaside town where we'd spend the next two nights.

We arrived fairly late, and the restaurants we had hoped to go to were all closed, so we wandered into an izakaya that was clearly still open, as there were lots of people still in there. It was operated by a Japanese family of five, the menu was only in Japanese, and when the father saw us struggling through Google-translating, he just asked "how many plates", we told him, and he prepared us a PHENOMENAL 6-course meal of the best dishes on the menu. It was probably our favorite meal from the entire trip—the ambiance was amazing, the food was delicious, and it was a place we had never expected to go to. Plus the vibe was so weird—the menu and outdoor space featured this photo of a fat baby

and the staff all wore T-shirts of this bizarre-looking cartoon character.

25/10, probably my favorite meal in Japan so far. Thank you, Japanese Grandpa #2.

June 21: Naoshima

Naoshima is an island just off of the mainland that is split into thirds. One third of the island is a massive refinery for Mitsubishi, one third of the island is residences, and one third of the island is dedicated to arts and culture. Since the 1980s, there has been a massive effort to make it into an art destination, much of which was done under the collaboration of the architect Tadao Ando and the artist James Turrell.

We took a ferry over to the island and rented electric bikes to bounce between the museums and galleries. As a lifelong NON-electric biker through cities, it was hard for me to mount the steed of my enemy. By which I mean I hate e-bikers in NYC and so was resistant to the idea of using e-bikes, but wow okay it was so worth it. The island has some gnarly hills and you can CRUISE up them on those babies.

I immediately noticed that either Paris Fashion Week had been moved to Naoshima without any advance notice or that I was severely uncoolly dressed compared to every single person on that island (my friends included). I have only one suitcase for the next six months and so fashion was a VERY small factor in determining which outfits would travel with me. If you've been reading the other posts on this blog, you may notice that I'm like a cartoon character because I am always wearing the exact same outfit of merino wool black t shirt and canvas shorts. But this island made me feel like I deserved to be tarred and feathered compared to the fashion icons all around me. Although I'm pretty sure they would find a way to tar and feather me so that I came out looking like the most beautiful bird you've ever seen because seriously everyone there must have been an artist based on how cool they were all dressed.

We had booked tickets in advance to several museum/galleries. I went in completely blind because Lucas said that we were doing this and I trusted Lucas (someone whom I had never met in my entire life). Honestly, this was an AMAZING way to experience this island. Nearly everything I saw blew my mind, so if you ever plan to visit, I recommend skipping the next few paragraphs until you come to the video of me doing my Tik Tok dance. Yes, that's right, a Tik Tok dance.

Our first stop was the Chichu Art Museum. Architecturally, it's amazing. I'm not usually a fan of modernist/brutalist/concrete architecture, but it has been done in such an amazing and intentional way, with every detail thought out from the angle of "what will the experience of walking through this place feel like?"

There are only three exhibits in the entire museum—the first is a massive room housing five Monet paintings, and it was amazing to be able to be in a room with so few people and be able to stand inches away from them. The room is lit only by natural light, but none of it is direct, and you are required to wear slippers to keep the white tile floor completely pristine. The next exhibit is by James Turrell. Turrell plays with space and light in a way that really messes with your brain. You walk up a staircase to what looks like a 2D screen, but then you step through the 2D screen into a completely white room, and as you stand in this room for a few minutes, the light changes in such a way that your depth perception is completely thrown off as the room turns deeper blue and the outside of the room turns orange. The doorways to the room are specifically made to warp your depth perception, and it is so bizarre and so cool. Next door is a room/courtyard, which is also designed by Turrell and features a massive open ceiling, but it is cut so sharply that it simply appears to be a frame for the sky, which appears two-dimensional when framed like this. I sat in this one for nearly 15 minutes, just watching the clouds go by, stunned. At one point I was completely alone and a dragonfly flew in, circled the room for nearly a minute, and then flew back out. So I guess the room is a collaboration of Ando, Turrell, and the entire universe conspiring to give me the coolest experience ever. The final exhibit is by Walter de Maria, and features a massive reflective stone ball in the center of a staircase, with an open skylight and many gold rods around the room. It felt like being inside of a surrealist painting in the best way possible. Walking around the ball and watching as it curved and distorted the reflection of the sky, and even being able to touch it and see your own reflection in this bizarre and unnatural room was an unforgettable experience. The entire museum is an amazing collaboration between artist and architect. Unlike most galleries or museums, the museum itself is a part of the art, and neither could exist without the other. Other than the Monet, I guess. WHATEVER.

We walked along a long road (where bikes were not allowed) to reach the Hiroshi Sugimoto Gallery, stopping at several other exhibitions on the way like a "cultural meeting bath"

and the lawn in front of the gallery, which had a semi-reflective glass circle split in two that you could step inside of. With one person in each side, it looked like your reflection was standing next to (or inside of) the person on the other side. It was fun for me because I got to see what I would look like if I had decided to dress better that day and it was fun for Lucas because he got to see what it would look like if he gave up entirely.

The building, the Benesse House hotel, is beautiful and modernist and also designed by Tadao Ando. The Hiroshi Sugimoto art—mostly photographs, but also some geometric sculptures and one painting—didn't do as much for me, personally, although some of my companions loved it. The one cool aspect was that the tickets included a free snack/drink at the cafe, which is also designed by Sugimoto and has some beautiful wood tables overlooking the massive lawn and the ocean.

We headed to the Lee Ufan museum, which had some amazing exhibits utilizing rocks. Like, just like big rocks. My favorite involved projecting light onto a rock and then projecting a moving image onto the shadow formed by the rock.

Our final reservation of the day was at "Art House Minamidera". This was another collaboration between Ando and Turrell, and this was my favorite of the day. If there's even a remote chance you go to this island then I recommend you skip this paragraph because going in blind made it ten billion times better. We were led into the house and told to put our hand on the right wall, walk until we found a bench, then sit on the bench and slide to the right as far as we could. After sitting on the bench, we were left alone in the complete pitch black and dead silence. For the second time in two days, I was left to be confused in complete darkness. I found it quite relaxing after a few minutes, but my friends later informed me that they were all on the verge of panic attacks. Amateurs. I'd gotten ahead of it by having a panic attack in the darkness YESTERDAY! Eventually, I began to see a rectangle forming in the darkness, just slightly brighter than the rest of the pitch black. I was unsure if it was leftover light burned into my eyes from the outside, or if they were slowly turning up the lights on a screen. As time went on, the rectangle became more and more clear, and I could also make out some dim lights on the side walls of the space. Eventually, the guide came in and informed us that the space had not changed at all—the light level had been the same since we entered and our eyes just took several minutes to adjust to the darkness enough that we could make out the tiniest amount of light. My head just about exploded. We got to walk around the space, and we could clearly see each other, see the lights, see the screen setup—which, like the other Turrell exhibits was a hole in the wall lit from behind to mess with your depth perception. Also like the other Turrell, I LOVED how the entire exhibit was centered around the experience of being a person in the space and how the human body works and perceives light/darkness. YOU GO JAMES TURRELL. YOU'RE AS COOL AS A BULLET TRAIN.

We went to the Tadao Ando museum, which was essentially a history of the island's art scene, since Ando had been the central figure in making it happen. It showed all the buildings he had designed on Naoshima, as well as several others across Japan.

We were running out of time so darted quickly into one last art house called Gokaisho. We paid the fee and went inside, only to find we were the only people there other than the ticket taker. This house consisted of a room with flowers in it, an identical room without flowers in it, a well, and a tree. We were all pretty disappointed that we had paid the entrance fee because we were like "okay sure a room with flowers in it wow." Then the ticket taker said "well, you are the last people here today, so let me explain." He then told us that the entire place was about comparison and contradictions. The rooms were identical, except one had the flowers. Turns out, they weren't real flowers—they were hand-carved from magnolia wood and painted to be hyper-realistic. They are also representations of camellia flowers—the same flowers that bloom on the camellia tree in the house every spring. There is also a bamboo rod in each room to prevent you from entering, however, it turns out that in the "empty" room, this rod is actually just yet another hyper-realistic magnolia wood carving. It's very "what is real? does it matter what is real?" and then we were all like okay wow actually this one kinda rocks and we thanked Japanese Grandpa #3 for the amazing explanation before heading back on the road to catch the ferry.

We had some time to kill before the ferry, and so did all of the other Japanese tourists there, and when I noticed some high-school girls making a Tik Tok dance in front of the iconic pumpkin sculpture that sits by the ferry dock, I figured that "when in Japan..." I may as well do my own Tik Tok Dance.

We ended the day with a phenomenal sunset followed by some phenomenal ramen at a tiny cafe where it was only us and the guy making the ramen, and had an early night so we could catch the train to Tokyo the next morning...

AAAAAAAA I AM SO SORRY THIS POST LITERALLY COVERS THE SHORTEST SPAN IN TERMS OF DAYS AND YET IT IS THE LONGEST IN WORDS BY SO MUCH!!!!

You people need to stop telling me that you're enjoying the posts and specifically that you are enjoying the length!! Because I WILL get carried away!! Clearly!!!

And I am editing these myself and so obviously I'm not going to cut out as much stuff as I should because everything I have to say is perfect and hilarious and interesting and fascinating because it's about me!! The main character of life!!! Duh!!!

I really sincerely appreciate you reading :)

To be honest, I think this blog is becoming less of a blog and more of a diary/writing exercise for me. It'll be really nice for me to be able to look back on this one day when I'm old and trying to remember all the amazing things I experienced while abroad. And if my friends and family and loved ones and acquaintances want to follow along too, that's all fine and dandy with me!! Plus, I LOVE having a task to accomplish. And trains. Does that mean anything?

If you come to Japan, I would recommend skipping Osaka unless you have a lot of spare time. I think you can find everything it has to offer in other places in Japan, and they will probably be a little better than Osaka's version. I'm sure there's amazing parts of Osaka, it's such a big city and I just happened to end up in the less-amazing parts of it (other than SPA WORLD, that place RULES).

I gotta say, though, after years of being told how amazing and perfect everywhere in Japan is, it was sorta refreshing to see that Japan can also be dirty and gross and have bad food and shitty bars. If I were to pull one real lesson from Osaka, I think it would be: I guess that we're all just people at the end of the day and we have more in common than separates us.

This was a callback to a line earlier in this post but the post is so long that I don't think the callback even works. Whatever.

But I absolutely wholeheartedly recommend Hiroshima, Miyajima, and Naoshima—they each require a full day, but each of them were remarkable, unique places with so much to see and do and that's a part of why this ended up being so long. And because I needed to vent about that messy night in Osaka. And because I am interesting and fascinating and the main character of life.

The next post will be about Tokyo and I promise it will be shorter and funnier because Tokyo has been wonderful and less eventful in a very positive way. And not a single person has said they hate the Jews here, so things are really on an upswing.

BYE