Upon our arrival in Hanoi, we’re immediately encouraged to sign up for the big event of the night hosted by our hostel: the Snake Village Tour. The sign-up sheet was complete with an ominous looking red on black logo of an undoubtedly poisonous snake.
“What’s this?” Dana asks.
“Oh! It’s our snake village tour. You get to eat snake heart and drink snake blood! It’s really fun!” replies the broad gentleman in the cut-off shirt.
Eating snake hearts. Sounds fun. 
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From the top of Fuji looking down
Before coming to Japan, I compiled a list aptly named “Top Things to do in Japan.” As you can imagine, this included mundane things (drink bubble tea), exciting things (visit Hokkaido), and adventurous things (climb Mt. Fuji). Someday, the plan is to show you the list in detail. Until then, just know that I am working checking off every last thing. Back in July, I knocked the ominous “climb Mt. Fuji” off the list.
Actually, in all honestly, since I knew so many people who’d climbed it, I figured it was an easy task. In fact, I imagined well paved roads and information signs every 10 feet. Needless to say, I wasn’t fully prepared for the 8 hour climb up a nearly vertical gravel slope in the middle of the night at near freezing temperatures.
Becky, braving the infection
Ok, so “post-apopalyptic” might be a bit of an over exaggeration, but not by a whole lot! While rock-climbing in Ha Long (I’ll write about that soon, I swear!) Becky managed to get a small scratch no larger than a piece of long-grain rice. Of course, it’s not that simple in developing countries, where the word “sanitary” has yet to enter the vocabulary. Within two days, it became a swollen, purple mass of scary. And by”scary” I mean that people would glance at it, make a startled noise and say “Oh my god! What happened to your leg?!” We were starting to frighten passerby’s. I supposed this is the time to visit a doctor. Of course, in Vietnam, you don’t go to doctors, you just go to the hospital. Continue reading
I’ve found that, here in Japan among my ALT friends, “finding yourself” is a reoccurring theme. I’m not sure how much closer I am to that goal, but I’ve already learned so much in the 6 months I’ve been here. I’ve also learned a lot from what others have figured out in their time here. Probably the biggest lesson learned so far is how to live in the now. I realize this is a bit of a cliché, but I find it a rather rare trait. So many people are too pre-occupied with tomorrow and yesterday, they are missing things happening right in front of them. I know I’m guilty of this, regularly. Continue reading
Photo cred: Becky Sibson
I love sharing my odd travel stories, so I’ve got another one for you. It takes place in the span of 20 seconds. I hope I can make this longer than three sentences. You’re already laughing because if you’re here, you know just how verbose I can get. With that, I’ll begin.
Preface: before this stroll down the corridor, I had been sitting comfortably in an empty cabin with my travel mates Becky, Sam, Dana, and Paul as our train rocks merrily along. We were probably playing poker and betting with the bag of lychees we’d earlier randomly received. The train had come to a halt at it’s next station and new passengers were boarding. We were about 4 hours from our destination. Continue reading
Photo cred: Juliana Mills
Getting to Koyasan takes about 2 hours from Osaka main. First you need to get to Namba station, then you have to transfer to the special Koyasan line that rattles along for about an hour through some very sleepy, remote towns. As if that wasn’t enough, once arriving at the final stop of the train, you get to take a nearly vertical trolley up the side of a mountain. Admittedly, it’s a beautiful trip through the rural mountains of Kansai, but if traveling by night, there isn’t much to see.
After a tiring day exploring Koyasan, we are working our way back to Osaka well past nightfall on one of the last trains down from the mountain. To pass the time, the topic of scary movies has come up and we are sharing the plots of our favorite horror flicks. Mind you, I’m fearless when it comes to extreme sports, but I’ll cry if forced to watch a scary movie of any calibre. Just as everyone is getting all worked up over Paranormal Activity, we realize the train has stopped. That’s when the fun begins. Continue reading
A good friend of mine from America, Julie, was scheduled to visit me here in Japan at the start of my summer vacation. As much as I’m sure she would love hanging out with me here in Koga for 18 days, I decided to save that for another visit. So, in an effort to make the best of her time here and I decided to book a trip for her, Becky, Carolyn and I down to Kansai for 7 days. Mind you, we’re all poor, recent graduates/ current students, so we wanted to make sure we could maximize our visit for minimal funds. This is how we did the Kansai region cheaply and efficiently! Continue reading
I wasn’t really sure what to expect when signing up for a night high in the mountains near Osaka in a traditional Buddhist Temple. Kris and Becky had both expressed an interest in doing this, and I’m never one to turn down a new experience, so here we are.
At the door we are greeted by a monk. I wish I could say he was all dressed in traditional orange monk robes, giving off an ethereal peace and reminding me what dedication truly is. In all actuality, he seemed like a completely normal, everyday dude. His non-conforming plain grey t-shirt and brown sandals simply state that this man enjoys being comfortable in his time off. He greets us kindly and shows us in. Continue reading
By the time this posts, I’ll already be in Vietnam. Truthfully, I’ve done a ton of traveling as of late, and have many stories to share with you. That said, I’ve left for a 10 day excursion to Vietnam, and frankly, the plan is to avoid the internet at all cost. I’m even trying this rare thing called “not going on facebook.” I know, journey will be long and challenging. I can do it. Continue reading
When pulling into our hostel in Hakuba, skeptical doesn’t even begin to describe what I’m feeling. Imagine a little wooden house with signs advertising a bar/restaurant combo in flickering neon lights. No mention of there being a guesthouse. To make matters more interesting, there doesn’t seem to be anyone home. Kris and I take one look at each other and pull out our phones in search of another hostel to stay at. Just as we agree on a new place to check, the “open” sign flicks on. Continue reading
The Girl In Translation 