Will The Real Korea Please Stand Up?

This is a very long and VERY detailed account of one night in Andong...

The people of Korea really endured themselves to us in Andong, where we went out to dinner with a friendly English teacher we met while eating lunch our first day there. Going out to dinner with this stranger turned out to be the best decision of the trip up to that point.

We were hunched over a street cart scarfing fried things and rice noodles in spicy red sauce when we noticed a white dude do a double-take upon seeing us, walk by us, then come back by and say hello. Andong is a smaller city, with a population of about 180,000. This guy seemed surprised to see foreigners he didn't know and he cheerfully asked us why we were in Andong. His name was Davie, and we talked to him for 15 minutes or so. As we parted ways, we asked if he had any suggestions for dinner in town. He invited us to dinner with him that evening, if we wanted, and he scribbled his name and number on a piece of paper. We told him we'd call him later in the evening after we finished our one sight in Andong: The Hahoe Folk Village.

We left Davie and our lunch cart behind and caught a bus to the small, river-side folk village about an hour outside of Andong. We explored it and the nearby mask museum for a few hours and enjoyed the old-style homes, touristy appeal, sheer cliffs, and learning about the village culture and mask dances that have made it one of Korea's major tourist destinations. Located in a little blurp of land in the bend of a river, the village is a UNESCO World Heritage sight and quite pretty. It is known for its straw roofed homes, unique layout dictated by class (highest class in the center, with the lower classes surrounding it, spiraling outward in a circle), and carved wooden masks for their famed mask dances. The town was nice and the mask museum had the most amazing collection of masks (from Korea and around the world) we'd ever seen. The museum also had detailed descriptions about the histories and plots of various mask dance performances, which ranged from predictable love triangles to perverted acts of lust. The museum was perfect since we didn't have a chance to see one of the weekend-only dance performances (and it was air-conditioned, always a bonus).

We returned to Andong, where we rested and caught up on emails, and this blog, back at our love hotel (more on these later, for now here's a link), the charming Aroma Motel.  Around 7:30 we ventured out to a pay phone to call Davie, not knowing what to expect for the evening.  Davie told us to hail a cab and ask to be taken to the "Lotte Mart" (pronounced "Low tay martay") near his apartment where he would meet us and take us to our choice of dinner spots. So we hailed our first cab of the trip and Jeff said, "La te mar ta." The cab driver didn't understand Jeff's butchering of the simple two word destination. Jeff got it right after a few more tries, and off we went!

About ten minutes and $4 later we arrived at the Lotte Mart and Davie was waiting outside.  We chose daeji galbi (Korean pork BBQ) and chatted more with Davie as he walked us through his neighborhood toward the restaurant.  He enjoyed teaching English in Korea, but had been burning out a bit recently.  He was honest about the aspects of Korea and Korean culture he liked and disliked, which we appreciated.  He didn't like seeing his students struck in class, or the way women are treated as second class Koreans.  He explained Korean social hierarchy: The oldest men are at the top, next are elder sons.  After all ages of men, come women.  Foreigners are below all Koreans, and despite what they say, they really seem to dislike the Japanese.  Davie's accounts of Korea's general attitude toward foreigners helped explain the pushy grandmas and the phenomenon of multiple line cutters who cut in front of us in train and bakery lines as though we weren't there.

We were seated at the restaurant by this point in our conversation. We sat on thin cushions on the floor at a low table with a large round grill in the center.  Davie paused the conversation to order three portions of the daeji galbi, and we soon had the meat, condiments, and bonchon (sides to be eaten while the meat grills)
in front of us. The grill seemed to run on gas and corn, which was loaded into the table top and funneled down into the burner underneath a clear window. Very neat, since you could watch the corn level drop as the fire raged and your meat grilled. Davie explained what each item on our table was, and how to eat them.  He showed us how to lay the pork on the grill, flip it, and cut it up when it was ready. The restaurant staff was scary efficient about changing our grill when they deemed it too burnt, and each new grill was unbelievably clean. We happily grilled meat, wrapped it in the provided lettuce with chili paste, salad, and garlic while we chatted with Davie more about teaching in Korea, how he found himself there, and his take on Korean culture.

Davie was also patient in teaching us a few key Korean phrases that made our future meals easier and more comfortable. "Eiga Juhm tuh jissayeo," means bring more of this, when accompanied by pointing to an empty dish. All of the condiments and bonchon are refillable, making the low low price of eating out in Korea even lower. Jeff tried first, stumbled over his words, lost confidence, mixed the phrase up horribly, made a fool of himself, and made the waiter boy laugh.  He did understand somehow and brought more raw garlic, which we grilled with the meat and ate by the clove (we still reeked days later). Annette tried our new phrase when we
ran out of the very tasty green onion salad (a favorite of hers). She fared much better. The boy helping us still chuckled, but she managed to say everything correctly and didn't get flustered like Jeff. We had also ordered a bottle of soju, traditional Korean rice liquor, and Davie showed us how to pour and receive a pour properly, as you never pour your own drink in Korea. To have one's glass refilled, one holds it out either with two hands, or with the right hand and the left arm folded, hand over your right breast. The pourer pours the same way, either with two hands or with the right, left hand over chest. To toast, you touch glasses and say, "gumbai!" the soju doesn't taste like much except watered down vodka, as it is about 20% alcohol. It lacks the ricey or fruity flavor of sake, but is pleasant when sipped in small amounts with the meat and spicier sides (like the kimchi we grilled with the garlic and pork).

Shortly after we sat down at the restaurant (still not sure what it was called) a woman and her family sat near us. She said hello to Davie in English, and smiled and waved, making funny gestures. Davie smiled, laughed and waved back. He told us that a little while ago he had bowled a 208 and that the woman had seen him there are must have remembered him.  The kids, two of them, and the woman kept smiling and saying hello to Davie at regular intervals throughout our meal. We finally finished our feast (which was about $18, including the soju) and got up to leave. The woman and her husband motioned us over as we passed. They had a few bottles of Fanta, which they made clear they wanted to share with us. We smiled and after our polite declining was rejected ("Are you sure?  That is too kind!") we sat with them. We got to practice the polite way to hold our glasses as they poured. We learned that the boy was 10 and his sister was 7.  The girl was excited to say a few words in English to Davie, and both were obviously excited and nervous - they giggled, climbed on dad, stood up and say down anxiously.  The wife and davie chatted in broken Korean and English. The wife also asked us a few questions. In Korea social standing is important, so they ask polite questions to determine signifiers of where you stand.  Age is important, as is marital status. Both husband and wife were interested to learn our ages (Davie reminded us to add a year, which is how Koreans count years - from zero up) and excited to find out we were married. She sweetly asked if we had any kids. We said we didn't yet, which is why we were able to travel. Jeff smiled and said, "soon!" making a cradle with his arms and rocking it back and forth. The wife seemed to like this, she smiled and tittered a bit.  Unprompted, she told us that she and her husband were both 37.

Davie, Jeff, and the Kind Family

We drank our Fanta, and at some point someone brought over a beautiful cake from a local bakery. The cake came with candles and a cake cutter. We didn't pay it much attention, perhaps one of the kids had a birthday coming up or maybe it was for children's day, which was a national holiday the next day (May 5th).  We sipped our Fanta, careful not to finish the glass before we left because an empty glass must be filled, and they had been generous enough already.  Davie politely wrapped the conversation up and we said goodbye. As we stood up to leave, bowing and thanking them profusely for the Fanta and hospitality, the kind family surprised us again. The wife picked up the cake and offered it to Jeff with both hands. "For you! For you!" she said smiling and pushing the cake toward us.  We protested emphatically, smiling and blushing.  Davie protested. We both protested. We smiled and bowed and tried to say that we couldn't possibly take the cake. Both mister and missus insisted.  What should we do? We knew that sometimes offers and gifts, like an invitation to one's home, were polite nicities ment to be declined.  We also knew that it could be deemed disrespectful to decline a gift. We had no choice but to accept the cake. We were flattered, confused, and embarassed. Davie paid for dinner as the girl giggled and ran between us and the kid's playroom (ballpit!) spouting broken English questions at Davie. We think she was flirting, as she wanted to shake his hand over and over but wanted no part of a handshake offered by Jeff. Ahh, young love.

Outside we asked Davie if anything like that had ever happened to him before. "A free beer here and there, but I've never been given a cake before. That was crazy! I have no idea what that was!"  Neither did we. The kind family was all that and more. Thank you for the cake, whoever you are. Gams hamnida!! (Thank you in Korean) Davie wanted to take us to a Korean bar, and we wanted to buy him a drink or two since he sprung for dinner (again, $18 for delicious BBQ pork, endless bonchon and condiments, and an unforgettable night out in Andong! All of that would have been a bargain at twice the price!). We walked to the bar and Davie showed us his neighborhood -massage parlors and nail salons that didn't offer either services, strip clubs, "dick clubs," and all manner of new things.  As with dinner, we appreciated English explanations of both the area.

You have to shake the bap

We landed at a bar called "Wiz."  Davie taught us how to order beer and we picked out food too. Apparently you can't drink without eating in bars.  Annette ordered something from the food menu that none of us knew what it was (turned out to be bibimbap in a tin that was to be shaken vigorously before eaten). She executed perfectly, and Jeff ordered the beer - getting all the words right but baffling the server when he pointed to the food page. Insert head slap here!  We unconfused the server and got our MGD-like Cass promptly. The table to the side of us was occupied by a few younger folks, who had a young girl with them (she looked about 3) despite the smoke and the fact that, well, we were in a bar. One of the young men at the table started talking with us in English. We chatted a bit, met his sisters and their husbands and the little (tired) lady. Our relationship to one another was important again, and their whole table lit up when Annette and I said we were married (they kept asking whether we were all friends, and we concluded later that they weren't totally comfortable until they knew what Annette's relationship to either of the men was).

We certainly wouldn't have come this far from the train station or our hotel for dinner had we not met Davie. We would have missed out on the cake, meeting the kind family, and learning the ins and outs of the Korean dining experience. Certainly Davie helped make our one night in Andong one of our most memorable since we'd been in Asia. We thanked him over and over, and he said he likes to pay forward the kindness he received upon moving to Korea.  Our night with Davie was something we really needed.  We hadn't yet felt a connection to Korea and this night opened the country up to us.  From Andong on we approached Korea with a whole new perspective!

Busan

We both kind of resented Busan at first.  Compared to Japan it was rough, unclean, and disorganized.  Busan seemed crammed, pushy, and rude, which was a stark contrast to the clean, calm, and polite demeanor of Japan.  The Busan subway etiquette is a perfect example.  Riding the subway in Busan was a new kind of subway experience for us.  The subway system itself was similar to others we have used the world over, but the people were a different from the riders of those trains. Tube passengers in London, for instance, want to get on their trains, ride to their destination, and get off while having been disturbed as little as possible. A perfect tube ride for most Londoners involves no eye contact or communication of any kind with strangers.  Busan was different.  First, staring in Korea is not taboo.  Direct eye contact is considered bold, but unlike the U.S., and certainly Japan, blatantly staring at someone is never a problem.  And possessing white skin, enormous backpacks, and red hair are great ways to test this cultural nuance. Second, physical contact and, more specifically, pushing are not avoided in large crowds in Korea.  Masses waiting to board trains rarely wait for passengers to disembark.  Instead, pushing, shoving, and leaning are all common when riding the subway, or, for that matter when doing anything in a crowd in Korea. (Pushing to get where you want and a general lack of respect for the coveted, and apparently Western, concept of personal space remains the norm in China as well.)  Later, we were startled to witness pushing, shoving, and general disorderly behavior coming out of a Catholic mass in Seoul.  After the church pushing, a lady approached Jeff and said with a kind, genuinely embarrassed smile, "I'm sorry about my people, they can be so self-centered."  The woman's comment met a lot, but we found no such apology in the mass transit underworld, train stations, or ticketing and check-out lines (where people routinely step in front of Westerners and each other, even when a clear line has formed).  But the Busan subway etiquette taught us a little about Korean culture.  At first, our reaction to being pushed and shoved was to get flustered or upset (particularly Jeff), but that did not get us anywhere so we decided to absorb it, observe it, and embrace it as part of Korea's personality. 

Our introduction to Busan was a gruff one, with the strict enforcement of the white person tax on our first meal and getting lost on the busy, smelly, littered streets of Busan while being bumped, jostled, and otherwise molested.  We stayed in Busan three nights and we left liking it because our following meals were delicious, unpretentious, and cheap.  And because the temple tucked up in the mountains above it demonstrated the calm and spiritual side of Korean culture.  We left with a good impression of Busan because we had one of the best street food sweet treats we've ever tasted there, because the beach was beautiful, and because it held hidden parks, markets, and shopping streets filled with character and charm.  Although we like Busan more when we left than we did when we arrived, we still longed for many of the comforts of Japan.  It wasn't until our dinner and night out with an English teacher in Andong named Davie that we really saw and developed an affection for the kinder, gentler side of Korea...

Note:

The Jagalchi Fish Market in Busan is one of the city's big tourist draws.  Several buildings, alleys, and streets make up this smelly, jumbled mess of fish and people.  There are tanks where you can pick out the fish you want to eat in upstairs restaurants. These types of places are all around Busan, and South Korea, but were most prevalent at the fish market.  We passed on the experience, since the fish usually looked sick and just a few hours from death in their cramped,  murky cells.  We did wander the rows of fish, octopus, squid, and sea penises for nearly an hour.  The opportunity to watch the butchering and cleaning of some of nature's grossest edibles was the second best reason for going to the fish market. The first, as always, was people watching. 

Clapping and yelling are favorite marketing techniques of vendors in Korea and China, and the folks at the fish market mixed these tools with staring and waving.  The vendors and possible customers all packed the market with an energy that almost made you forget the vomit-inducing smell of hot, half-rotting fish guts.  But the most entertaining person we watched was a man in a suit who had passed out right by the railing between the back of the market walkway and the Pacific ocean.  The gentleman apparently suffered from what doctors call, "Drinking too much." We found out later from friends living in South Korea that the drinking culture is brutal, involving nightly drinks until the wee hours of the morning between one day of work and the next. Hikers, fathers, businessmen, drunks, merchants, and university students all drink to excess on a very regular basis. Every country has its population that battles alcohol, but Korea's drinking culture is the only one we have encountered savage and unruly enough to have a (now restricted) website called Blackout Korea (www.blackoutkorea.blogspot.com) dedicated to the over-drinking antics of its alcohol consumers.

Hello Korea!

Kyoto, Japan

We have found ourselves making a lot of comparisons as we travel.  Comparing places, people, sights, and cultures through observations is one way we make sense of our ever-changing environment. We constantly compared Japan to the U.S. when we first arrived there and after we had been in Japan a while we began comparing cities, towns, sights within Japan. It is unfair to compare Japan to the U.S., but that is the best way our brains seem to have to reconcile all of the new information flooding into them.  We figured out Japan first by learning what it isn't. It looks like the U.S. sometimes, but the history, culture, and mentality of its people make Japan very much unlike the U.S. in certain ways. Traveling from Japan to Korea caused the U.S. to fade a little more.  One step further away. But we couldn't help but compare Korea to Japan.  From the moment we arrived in Busan, South Korea around 6 p.m. on a hazy, overcast Friday evening we began comparing the two countries.

Busan, South Korea

Busan is South Korea's second largest city (after Seoul) with a population of around 3.5 million. At the time we landed in Busan, it was the largest city we had been to since leaving the U.S. The coast line where Busan is located is mountainous, making for an interesting cityscape. Busan is more Seattle than Chicago or Los Angeles since it has had to grow around the local geography. The human development rolls laterally along the coast, spilling down, out of the hills until it meets an abrupt end at the ocean. Busan is one of the largest port cities in the world and its bridges, bustling port, and towering buildings don't let you forget its size or rugged location, buried near the Southern-most tip of the Korean peninsula. Our first impressions of Korea, via Busan, were that it is dirtier, less organized, less efficient, and far gruffer than Japan.  The international ferry terminal in Fukuoka, Japan (shouts out to Azusa and family!) was nicer, newer, cleaner, and more orderly than its Korean counterpart.  Once in Korea, all passengers from Japan were funneled through a "radiation detection device" on their way to immigration.  This contraption looked more like a 3rd grade school project than it did a radiation detection device. It appeared to be made entirely of PVC bought from Home Depot and lacked any discernible power source or connection to computer devices. A friend later told us that Korea is suspicious of all things Japan, and something near hysteria had followed the Tsunami and ensuing Japanese nuclear power plant issues in early March.  We're not sure what the flimsy looking arch at the Busan ferry terminal could actually detect, if anything.

Following our uneventful 3 hour ferry ride (no whale or dolphin sightings), immigration, customs, and a brief glimpse of the royal wedding on a large flat screen in the terminal lobby, we set out in search of the subway. We noted, as we struggled a bit to locate our subway entrance, that it would have been easier to find and get to in Japan.  Once below the streets of Busan, we figured out the subway system and navigated it to our stop in central Busan with relative ease.  Finding the subway had been mildly confusing, but finding our guesthouse after exiting the subway proved to be throughly confounding. We walked around in small circles for well over an hour before we finally found our Busan home, Blue Backpacker's Hostel.  The owner greeted us with a concerned expression. "Did you get lost?"  We responded sheepishly, "Yes, we did."  She inquired as to why we didn't follow the simple directions on her website (instead of the worthless Lonely Planet map). A damn fine question.  That would have been much easier, but it also would have been practical and intelligent - two things that are sometimes very hard for tired travelers to be. 

The crafty orange tent con-woman and her prey

We settled in and left soon after in search of food.  Busan's food culture revolves around orange tents that have a few seats and serve local seafood and other street food specialties.  We wandered around hungrily searching for the perfect orange tent until we were eventually swept in by an English Speaking hype-woman.  Spoken English should have been the first sign of trouble.  We were seated next to a Russian girl and her Japanese boyfriend, who happened to have been on our ferry from Japan.  There were a few locals in the tent as well.  The owner and host was a loud, joke-cracking middle-aged woman with a broad smile and a crafty look about her.  She drank at least two big bottles of Cass beer in the short time we spent in her tent.  She also picked and served us beef mixed with kimchi, shrimp, and a few other items.  We drank a beer, ate our food (which was decent), and asked for our check.  She wrote  38,000 won on a cup, which is roughly equal to $38.  Now, this was our first meal in Korea but we knew food should be cheaper.  We knew we had been hoodwinked even as we paid.  We snapped a few pictures with the con-woman who welcomed us to Korea so honorably, and joked and grumbled about the white people tax we just paid.  We're pretty sure our ferry-mates got similar "idiot tourist" treatment, which made us feel better.  We also now knew why the con-woman had been so happy when we entered her tent, asking us where we were from, proclaiming that she loved America, grinning and shouting jokes to the Korean customers, and opening herself another beer. Her heist was a fine, "Welcome to Korea."  We laughed about it and chalked it up to the inevitable, though we didn't hesitate to note that this sort of extortion would never happen in Japan.

Staying In Japan, Part Two

click here to read Staying In Japan, Part One 

Staying In Japan, Part Two

We have stayed at hostels and business hotels before, so in a way, staying at those types of accommodations in Japan was familiar territory. Without having to think too hard on it, we can confidently say that we have never stayed anywhere like the Buddhist Temple we stayed at on Mount Koya.

There is a peaceful, understated beauty and somber tranquility on and around Mount Koya. Our night with Buddhist monks atop this mountain gave us our first real look into what staying in traditional Japanese inns can be like, but with a few quiet Buddhist twists. The room was unlike any hotel room we had stayed in, the food unlike that of any food we had been served at a hotel or inn, and our hosts unlike any hotel staff or inn-keepers we have had the pleasure of staying with. But before we break down the deets on the temple-stay, a few words on Mount Koya and the small town of Koyasan.  This mountain and small mountain town are home to the mausoleum of  the founder of one of the two dominant Buddhist sects in Japan, Kobo-Diashi.  The largest graveyard in all of Japan is in Koyasan as well, since Kobo-Diashi's followers all want to be buried near him.

The graveyard is home to over 200,000 graves.  The older parts of the graveyard are stunning - stone lanterns and headstones mark grave after grave, while old trees and moss add to the splendor and subdued magnificence of the scene.  Our walk through this section of the graveyard, also filled with shrines and small buildings marking prominent Buddhist burial sites, helped impress upon us the deep and powerful roots Buddhism has in Japan. It really is enchanting to walk among the ancient graves and revered religious sites, and to see the mausoleum of one of the most revered Buddhist figures in Japan.

The thick history and spiritual resonance were also present in the temple we slept at. We stayed in a tatami room, which is one big room used for everything.  This was our first night on a traditional Japanese futon, called a "shikibuton."  Our shikibuton was laid over the same tatami mats after we finished dinner and took a little getting used to. Japanese homes and inn rooms are designed to be comfortable and convertible.  The dining room easily transforms into the bedroom or the living room, depending on what is called for.  When it is time to eat again, the bedroom can be quickly transformed back into the dining room. Our room also had a T.V., just to the right of the alter/praying nook.  We had a cozy little porch that could be opened up or closed to the elements and looked out on the back part of the garden and grounds. The temple had shared bathrooms and a Japanese public bath called an onsen. We didn't use the onsen here, partially because the traditional Japanese dinner and sake served at 5:30 knocked Jeff out and had him asleep by 8. (We did take our first dip in an onsen a few weeks later, an outdoor dip in an onsen fed by a hot spring filled with earth-heat and mineral goodness, and two nice private onsen dips - but more on those later in this post!)

At our Temple inn, the monks brought our amazing, beautiful, and seasonal five-tray, many-course dinner to our room and removed it when we were finished.  The same monks made our bed for us, very neatly and quickly, as soon as our dinner mess was cleaned up. Our dinner was a vegetarian version of a traditional Japanese meal called kaiseki, which has a few staples but is dictated by seasonal vegetables, and is artfully designed to invoke emotions.  The kaiseki meals we had in Japan were as artistic and as aesthetically pleasing as they were delicious.  Colors, side items wrapped up like gifts, and many mystery items wowed us.  Dinner was delicious and memorable, but we had some kaiseki later on in our Japan trip that trumped the monk feast.  We were surprised at first that sake and beer were offered with dinner, but a friend we met the next day coming down from Mount Koya, Buddhist Joe, explained to us that Buddhist monks are free to smoke and drink.  "About two-thirds of them do both or one or the other, and the other third envies them," he told us.  Either way, the dinner and the sake knock-out must not be a mistake, because monks also get up early.  We were rousted by our gruff monk host just before 7am to view morning meditation and a fire ceremony. The hard rain and misty mountains towering above the covered outdoor temple walkways provided a calming scene as we followed our monk first to morning meditation and then to the fire ceremony. We took both in bleary eyed and sleepy, but honored and humbled by the beauty and deep sense of history and tradition that swirled around us with incense smoke and soothing chants.

The Buddhist temple inn is a version of a traditional Japanese inn, called a ryokan.  In Takayama, almost two weeks later, we stayed at a minshuku, which is a more humble, home-like type of ryokan.  Our minshuku, not unlike the town of Takayama, seemed a little run-down and charmless at first.  The rooms and building on the whole were old-feeling and worn.  Our room was large, but sparse and a bit sticky somehow.  As has happened many times on our trip already, and will happen many, many more we're sure, friendly people and a few good meals charmed us and provided the character that endeared us to both the minshuku and the town.

Takayama is a mountain town in the Japan alps that is probably most alive in the summer.  We were excited to visit the town because we had heard such wonderful things about it, but we found it rainy and a bit forlorn at first. It seemed a little like a ghost town at first.  A tasty meal of hida beef (cooked on a magnolia leaf at your table) and a big, fat salad on the first night, a trip to the nearby folk village of Shirakawago two days later, a lovely hike/walk over the town hill in between, the quirky Showa museum, and a couple well put-together restored homes endeared Takayama to us. And we left really happy we came.  The minshuku we stayed at was much the same.  We came in to the minshuku excited to stay at a new type of accommodation, were disappointed at first, but left converted - again, by the friendly woman who ran the place, the amazing dinner she cooked us, and the place's small, hidden charms that took a short time to find.  Our minshuku had his and hers public onsen, so we both gave this cherished Japanese tradition a shot.

Onsen is more than just a bath and a relaxing sit in a hot tub. It is really more like a national pastime in Japan. There is an outfit, normally provided by the establishment running the onsen, to wear en-route and after a bath.  The garb is like a double-layered robe and is called a yukata.  Yukatas also come with little jackets in case one get's chilly (usually only before a trip to an onsen, as one can stay warm for hours after a good, hot dip - which is part of the point, especially in winter).

A trip to an onsen consists of a few simple steps:

1. Remove your clothes in a changing room (just like a locker room) attached to the bath room. 
2. Enter the bath room naked as the day you were born, bringing with you only a small towel for modesty and scrubbing.
3. Fill a bucket up with hot water and douse yourself to adjust to the heat of the hot bath (this step can be repeated and done before or after step 4).
4. Set a provided stool up in front of one of the low-mounted shower stalls (un-partitioned) and wash yourself thoroughly with hot water, soap, and shampoo.  There are varying degrees to how thorough on can wash oneself here, but some Japanese we noticed were very meticulous, even shaving and grooming at this step.
5. Rinse. Make sure you are clean and totally rinsed.  
6. Get in the onsen! Some inns and hot spring resorts have one big tub, others have several (see below).  
7. Never, ever let your little towel touch the onsen water.  You can set it on the ledge or, the more popular option, you can rest it on top of your head.
8. Get out and wash yourself some more if you want, but end with the water from the hot spring bath on you still.  Why wash away the minerals and their restorative properties?
9. Return to the changing room, dry off, tend to any additional grooming if necessary, and get dressed!

By the time we left Japan we had used three different onsen, and this first one was by far the hottest! Jeff used it the first night and returned looking like a lobster.  He stayed warmed by the short dip for a few hours after.  The onsen at our minshuku was, like the inn itself, a little run-down.  It wasn't the cleanest or fanciest we used, but it was the first, and it will remain a fond memory and experience long after we return home from this long journey.  Actually, the fanciest onsen we used was at the onsen resort hotel we stayed at immediately after leaving Takayama and our beloved minshuku.  We didn't leave, however, before receiving two red fans - a very sweet parting gift from our ever-smiling, ever attentive minshuku mom!

Ryokan are known for their service, comfort, home-like atmosphere, onsen (hot spring baths), and food.  If you want to truly experience Japanese hospitality and comfort, stay at a ryokan. 

We knew we wanted to stay at a ryokan more as an experience than just a place to sleep.  We had staying at a ryokan on our list of things to do before we left Japan - right along with seeing a baseball game, visiting Hiroshima, seeing the cherry blossoms and temples in Kyoto, hiking in the Japan Alps, and eating traditional Japanese food. We went into our ryokan experience with high hopes and we were not let down.

The owner of the ryokan we stayed at is an aging inn-keeper who speaks English, cracks jokes, and never hesitates to provide fantastic service.  His daughter told us she came back from Tokyo to help her family with the inn after it, and the tiny post town of Tsumago, started drawing more foreign tourists.  We interacted with this father/daughter team the most, but there were an astounding number of helpers rushing around the small, cozy inn before and after mealtimes.  The hospitality and kindness we received from the owner of Fujioto and his daughter made almost as great of an impression on us as the SUPER cute entry and grounds. 

This inn is old and full of creaky floor boards, impressive views (of both the surrounding mountains and the inn's own picturesque gardens), and character.

We stayed in a tatami room with a "western" table and chairs (we hadn't sat in chairs with legs for five nights) and a futon.  Our room had fabulous views of the mountains (usually misty and prehistoric looking) and a seemingly endless supply of green tea.  We walked in to hot water and little snacks, and were by now used
to (and looking forward to) green tea in our room upon arrival.  We really enjoyed making some tea and snacking while playing cards and admiring the view.  We relaxed until we felt the need for more relaxation, at which point we put on our yukata and went downstairs to enjoy a private bath together. This was Jeff's favorite place we stayed in Japan!

As we spent our last nights in Japan at Hiroshima K's. we felt like we saw a good chunk of Japan and were ready to move on.  We enjoyed our time in Japan and know we will be back someday in the future. Maybe with the kids...


Next up: South Korea!

Staying In Japan, Part One

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It has been a while since we have made a blog post, so it is time for the post all travel blogger's make at least once.  That's right, this is the "we're sorry it's been so long, but we promise to be more diligent with our posts" post. For those of you still reading and following (thank you!), here is part one of our "Staying In Japan" post. Part two will come very soon, to be followed by a Japan wrap-up post (or two) and Korea posts.  We are getting close to three weeks behind so here we go...

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Staying In Japan, Part One

Livin' Large in Toyoko Nara

The types of Japanese accommodations we stayed in helped make our trip there more authentic and memorable than it would have been had we stayed at only one type of lodging or only in familiar Western chains.  The chains we did stay in were Japanese, which makes all the difference.

Our first Japanese accommodation happened to be such a chain.  We stayed at the popular Japanese business hotel Toyoko-Inn our first three nights in Osaka.  During our time in Japan, we stayed at three different Toyokos for a total of eight nights over the course of our three and a half week tour.

The Toyoko-Inn rooms we stayed in were wonderful in their efficient design, cleanliness, and outrageously cheap prices.  An American Motel 6, Best Western, or Holiday Inn with rooms as cheap as the ones offered by Toyoko would never have been as modern, clean, or well-equipped.  The true marvel of the Toyoko brand is what you get in such a tiny space for the money.  Toyoko packs an amazing amount into a very small area, without sacrificing comfort. Each Toyoko room we stayed in had high-speed internet, a queen bed, an electric hot water kettle, hair dryer, fridge, T.V., microwave, pants press, large lamp, desk with chair, and a full bathroom with a bathtub.  And each of these rooms, including their bathrooms, were tucked neatly (and skillfully) into a space about the size of a smallish American  bedroom.

Just calling to say
"I love you Toyoko!"

Another thing that makes Toyoko superior to its American counterparts are the wonderful staff and service.  Despite our inability to speak Japanese, we were always greeted by chipper, friendly staff who went out of their way to provide excellent service. The night reception gals at the first Toyoko we stayed in helped save us about $30 that night by signing us up for a Toyoko membership.  That same membership saved us over $100 over the course of our Toyoko stays, and we are just two nights from a receiving a free night. Booyakasha! We've stayed in business hotels and similar hotel types in other countries before, but Toyoko-Inn truly takes the cake.  We have to tip our hats to Toyoko and the Japanese business principals (a dedication to efficiency, for one) that make such a magnificent thing possible.  Here's to you Toyoko! 

Kyoto K's private room

But a trip of this magnitude wouldn't be possible if we didn't rely heavily on hostels along the way. Although Toyokos were sometimes the least expensive option, Japan has some great hostels that were sometimes the better choice. We stayed in Japanese youth hostels in Kyoto and Hiroshima, for a total of nine nights.  Both were K's House hostels, a small chain with eight across Japan. 

TV with BBC in Kyoto K's!

The Kyoto K's was fantastic enough for Jeff to declare it one of his three most favorite hostels he's stayed in. (Jeff chose the number three because that seems to be how Japan rates everything from gardens to castles, and from islands to temples. Kanazwa has one of the three best gardens in the country, while Hemiji has one of the three best castles.  It's never "One of the five best," or " The best."  Always, "One of the three best.")  K's Kyoto is pretty great no matter where it ranks in Jeff's fictional "best hostels ever" chart.  It has a large kitchen, rooftop terrace, wifi throughout, and a friendly staff.  It was also clean, with wide bunks and private lights, and huge lockers below the beds.  No matter how terrific a hostel might be, there will always be those who snore like the dickens or arrange and rearrange their belongings at 6 am in the morning, God love 'em.  We know K's can't do anything about them, so we dawn our earplugs and sleeping masks, and salute the aspects the owners and staff can control - such as organizing free walking tours, providing free bicycles, and maintaining a light, airy, comfortable common room.

A Miyajima map-eating deer 

We met a friendly Aussie named Brad over breakfast in the attached "Zen Cafe" of Kyoto K's.  Brad gave us several tips about what to see and eat in Kyoto, but none of his tips were funnier or more memorable than what he said as we saw him later that afternoon riding a free hostel bike. Beaming and pointing at the bicycle Brad hollered in his thick Aussie accent, "Best way to see Kyoto!" Priceless.  We also met a friendly couple from England  over our dinner and their beers in the common room one night.  They relayed helpful tips about traveling in China, comical stories about crack addicted squirrels in Brixton, and the map-eating deer in Miyajima, Japan.  (Funny thing about the map-eating deer in Miyajima is that the maps all have a small note in the corner: "Please do not feed the deer.") We really appreciated the conversation and advice.

Hiroshima K's is a bit smaller than Kyoto K's, but it's still a pretty nice hostel.  Both are undeniably Japanese, offering tatmi rooms, keeping a shoes-off policy, and providing friendly, helpful staff.  Hiroshima K's is distinctly Hiroshima, while Kyoto has touches of the city of Kyoto throughout.  Hiroshima packed a lot of charm into a small space, including a huge wall of photos from guests and "Peace Books," which were guest books filled with color penciled drawings from guests from around the globe.  Jeff busted out a piece for peace from us and all Seattlites!

A-bomb dome

The Peace theme in the Hiroshima K's is a product of the city's obsession and dedication to peace.  It was moving and stirring just to be in Hiroshima, with reminders of the horrors inflicted on it's citizens on 8:15 on August 6, 1945 and the triumphant Japanese spirit all around.  The A-bomb dome and the Peace Memorial Park and museum were touching, emotional, educational, and exhausting sites. But they were all very necessary and we were so glad we included Hiroshima on our Japanese itinerary.  The A-bomb dome used to be a  government building that was almost directly beneath the bomb when it detonated. Because the building was made of brick and steel, unlike many Japanese structures at the time, most of it survived as a mangled reminder of the devastation caused by the bomb. The A-bomb dome lies at one end of the Peace Memorial Park, which has several monuments and memorials for different groups of people killed and affected by the bomb - most notably the Children's Peace Monument and the Cenotaph for Korean Victims.  There was a lot to see and discuss in the museum.  Jeff was especially moved by the two full walls covered with engraved copies of letters of protest sent by the mayor of Hiroshima every time any country developed or tested an atomic bomb after August 6, 1945.  Some of the most moving items in the museum were large images of the city after the bomb went off, art by survivors, and tattered children's clothes and belongings. There were also thoughtful exhibits about prewar Hiroshima, Japan and Hiroshima during the war, postwar Hiroshima, the dropping of the bomb, after affects of the bomb, atomic bomb development and repercussions of its invention, and efforts of peace and the complete abandonment of nuclear weapons spearheaded by Hiroshima. 

Children's Peace Monument

Hiroshima was one of our favorite cities in Japan.  It is amazing to think of how far it has come since August 1945, because even though there are reminders of the A-bomb throughout, the city hides it's history quite well at times. We felt moved and honored to be in such a resilient and noble city.  Although small Hiroshima K's Peace Books represented the city well, as it stands proud as a testament to both the evil and the good humans are capable of. By the time we left Hiroshima we felt we had a better understanding of Japan's history and culture. The hostel played only a small part in our Hiroshima experience, but it is important to note how deep Hiroshima's dedication to peace really goes.

We felt that the decidedly Japanese touches at the K's and Toyokos we stayed at improved our Japanese experience and helped set them apart from hostels and business hotels we've stayed at in Europe and America. We also stayed in a Buddhist temple, a Minshuku, and a traditional Japanese inn called a Ryokan.  To be continued in Part Two...

Ryokan Fujioto, Tsumago, Japan