Golden week and golden days

In which I encounter a giant spider, get sunburned, dance till dawn and meet Japanese Cholos

Another comic for my ice cream review series

The beginning of May is Golden Week in Japan, basically 3 national holidays stacked on top of each other. In the country of overwork and limited PTO, usually golden week is very celebrated. Everyone goes on trips and vacations and uses up the time the best they can. I followed in these footsteps by heading to the beach. Shirahama, often called the Waikiki of Japan, Shirahama is a coastal tourist spot about three hours away from Osaka. I headed there with my fellow English teacher friend Thais for a relaxing beach side getaway (Virgo retreat, we called it (we are Virgos, if that wasn’t obvious). We took a bus from downtown Osaka (it was cheap and clean, the bus station was actually nice, unlike America’s greyhound) and snaked our way down mountains blanketed with forests and past a frog bridge. I thought I was hallucinating when I looked out the window and saw what looked like a giant frog in the distance. Thais looked it up and it was actually “Kaeru Ohashi bridge” literally frog bridge.Y’all we can’t make this stuff up, Japan really is just like that. The most random and delightful things can be found all around you. We spent the bus ride bitching about dating apps in Japan (it’s…..not good) and our English teaching woes. A beachside trip away from the city was sorely needed. 

When we arrived in Shirahama and we were basically already beachside. Our AirBnB host, a kind older Japanese man named Utsumi, picked up us and drove us up a steep hill to the AirBnB. I’m not sure what this place exactly was before, but it was a five story building filled to the brim with assorted Japanese knick-knacks, things like dolls and kimono displays. It was a bit dusty and the floors were wooden and creaky. Utsumi stayed with his wife on the second floor and gave us a map of Shirahama before taking us up a precarious flight of stairs to the fifth floor, our room. We had a big tatami room to ourselves with a wall to wall view of the town of Shirahama and the beach. The showers were located on the 6th floor, in kind of a Sento (Japanese bathhouse style). We walked up the stairs through replica torii gates to the bathroom with a gigantic shower area with two shower heads and stools. Behind the curtains was a huge unused bath area. What the hell is this place? Is anyone else staying here? Is this place haunted?? We asked each other. Overall, though it was cozy with an incredible view. 

We immediately changed and hauled it to the beach, which was only about a ten minute walk away. The feeling of sand touching my toes on a warm day was truly all that I had wanted. I felt blessed once I hit the beach and could feel my feet sink into the sand. I immediately plunged into the cold water, not before feeling uncomfortable and weird being in a swimsuit in Japan. There were literally people on the beach in jeans and almost formal style dresses, so it felt strange to be basically half naked, but I figure as a foreigner i can get away with not being modest and acting like a weirdo. 

It was lovely to be at the beach and once it got dark we hiked back to our AirBnB, to get settled in and shower before bed. We had a wall to wall window view so, in the darkness I went to close the curtains and out scuttled the largest spider I have ever encountered, like no joke, we are getting into tarantula vibes here. “Oh shit oh shit oh shit” I half wheezed as I jumped back. I do not mess with spiders. Back in the day my ex-boyfriend Roberto got a tarantula (a tiny one named Pete) and I was so mad. We all have our freak out animals and that’s mine. “Theres…theres a spider oh shit.” I whispered to Thais.

Let’s just leave it alone and maybe it will just hide away we thought, but it darted out onto the wall in plain sight. Thais cowered away from it, and in my swimsuit top and jean shorts I shouted “I’m getting an adult!! “As I briskly made my way to the second floor to tell our hosts. Was I being ridiculous I thought? But once again I’m not mentally or emotionally equipped to handle large spiders in my room (sorry if I am a weenie). I knocked on their door. “Yes?”they asked

“…ummmmmm Kumo…ooki kumo…” i stuttered in Japanese. “Kono kanji” (like this) and gestured to demonstrate the size of the spider. “Spider spider big spider” I clarified in English. “Eeeeeehhhh??” The wife said and the older gentleman grabbed insect repellent and calmly made his way to the fifth floor. He took off his shoes at the edge of our tatami room and went up to it and matter of factly sprayed it with the repellent. It ran into the closet and I screamed. He shut the door to the closet and just said it’s not dangerous. 

We felt more calm after that and I apologized and said we are from Osaka, we don’t deal with stuff like that. (Although, I saw a big Japanese centipede in Kyoto last weekend and my friend saw a large snake outside her school. Japan don’t come to play).

So we just didn’t open the door to the closet for the rest of our stay. Hoping that the spider just wouldn’t bother us and we wouldn’t bother him. 

The rest of our few days went a little more smoothly, with a trip to a 500 yen onsen that was directly oceanside (and tattoo friendly!!). It was my first onsen because many don’t allow tattoos. There was a fence so people on the beach couldn’t see onsen goers, but if you popped too far out they could see you fully nude. 

We spent more time on the beach getting sunburned and acting goofy. We took beach photos of ourselves and called them “thirst traps for the friends and family” in jest, because we have no one we want to woo. We bought beer and got it opened at the Lawson by the clerk, he said konpai and cheers-ed as he gave us the beer. We took our beer with us to the beach with us (all before noon) (golden week energy). 

We sat on the steps overlooking the beach and watched a 20 year old boy puff out his chest and pull on an orange tank top to follow some stylish Japanese girls teetering through the sand in heels to the ocean to take pictures. We got a full view of him trying to smoothly initiate conversation as his friends snickered from the steps. It was truly like watching a tropical bird mating call. Here he was in brightly patterned beach shorts and an orange tee, trying his hardest to get their attention as they tried their hardest to ignore him. 

We saw an American dad trying to reason with his toddler who was demanding to have her way or the highway. He was running down the street barefoot just to catch up with her. 

We marveled at all the old Showa era kitschy buildings and went to the cliffs at sunset, talking deeply about life and watching a boyfriend determined to get the best picture of his girlfriend in the setting sun. We enjoyed it until it got dark and we started to get eaten by mosquitos. Do all beach towns have the same energy? Because Thais said it reminded her of Brazil and Florida (her two homes) and it reminded me of my time in Central America. 

Cliffs at sunset in Shirahama

Sometimes here in Japan i wake up out of sorts and stumbling for coffee and feel that there is nothing special about my life and routine. Other days I will be hit with a reminder that I am in really here, in this place so unlike my home. Something that was just an almost unimaginable dream a year ago is my reality. A boring, tiresome, irksome reality sometimes, and sometimes an amazing and incredible ball of a time. With experiences like seeing sumo wrestlers at the train station or singing Bruno Mars karaoke to 40 of my Japanese coworkers at our drinking party. I often find moments of wonder or moments where I must stop and pause to full let this moment sink in. Sometimes I am terrified of going back home and all of this fading into a distant memory. Sometimes Seattle feels hazy and untouchable to me. Everything that I took for granted in Seattle, is not necessarily accessible here to me in Japan. When I am not in Japan will this have meant anything? I often think about what this time here in Japan really means to me and how to make the most of it. I write and think a lot. Why am I here and what does this mean to me? 

Black and white film from Kyoto

I go to dance class (House on Thursdays and Waacking on Fridays). Sometimes I post videos on my instagram story of my house dance choreography that I have learned as a way to say hey! I am here! I’m dancing. Though the class is “super beginner” according to my google translate. I still find it quite challenging, but sometimes I feel like I crush it and it looks good. 

I was video-chatting with my friend Sidney the other day, expressing my  fear that my time in Japan would mean nothing but a hazy memory, but she countered with, you’ll come back with a bunch of house moves! 

I don’t really have a moral to that story, honestly. It’s just a funny lighthearted realization. Though I am scared that this time will fade, I don’t think I could ever fully let go of Japan. I’m now a forever student of Japanese (I am studying and I want to keep going, just as I have with Spanish after being in Latin America), I will keep learning house moves and I will really really try not to take the memories I make here for granted. 

Other things of note:

I went to an outdoor dance music festival in Kyoto the other weekend. I stayed up dancing to electronic music until 3am and crashed in my friend Miranda’s tent. The music woke me up again at 8:30am, with another DJ set going. I walked out of my tent and people were still out there, getting their groove on. I sat upon a little hill exhausted after a long night, drinking my coffee and journaling overlooking the stage and listening to the constant stream of house music. 

This past weekend beach friend Thais and I encountered Japanese Cholos!! Cholos are a style and culture originated from Latinos in Los Angeles. It’s a thriving subculture in Japan, where people fully dress and embrace the style. Even getting black and white style tattoos and driving low riders. There was a taco cookout in triangle park in Osaka, with the Mexican flag flying high. I was so excited and tried to talk to them in Spanish (they don’t really speak Spanish). But they were making tacos and they gave me and Thais one. I learned that the guy putting on the event runs a shop called “La Puerta” just next to the park, and they cook tacos once a month. I wanted to see the Japanese cholos even when I was in the states, so I was stoked to see them. They were playing Spanish music and I witnessed at least one cholo doing the crip walk. 

With the Cholas