Day Two!

2009 JAPAN TRIP BLOG - DAY TWO!

Ohio Gozaimas! A far more refreshed group of students and chaperones set out this morning to a Sapporo bathed in gorgeous sunlight and temperatures in the high 50s. The daylight revealed an alabaster city of concrete and skyscrapers, nestled within the basin of giant snowcapped mountains. Sapporo, the largest city in Hokkaido, is home to almost 2 million people, although, in the words of one of our guides, 70 years ago, when he was born, the population was only 200,000. "That Sapporo, I know," he joked. "This Sapporo, I don't."

His modesty aside, he and the other guides who met us from the Massachusetts-Hokkaido Friendship Society (the official government wing of the sister-state relationship) were extremely knowledgeable, fluent in English, and spry in a way that belied their septuagenarian status. They were volunteers, who devoted their time to helping Americans learn about their home, on a tour that included the long linear Odori park, the Eifel-esque "TV tower", and Poletown, the underground shopping mall that, like its counterpart in Montreal, provides shelter as well as commerce for pedestrians in the winter. The students were particularly impressed with the kimono store they saw there, both for the beauty of its wares and the price as well (some of the traditional outfits were selling for five digit sums!)

Sapporo is a city that has very much been touched by close relationships with Americans. In the late 1800s, the Japanese Emperor responded to the forced opening of its doors to the world at the hands of the US Navy with a policy of, "if you can't beat them, become like them" - thus began the Meji Restoration, when the Japanese government hired scores of handsomely-paid Western consultants, including none other than Concordian William Wheeler! Wheeler created much of the modern street planning for Sapporo, and is most famous for his design of the Sapporo Clock Tower, an iconic structure that has become synonymous with Sapporo itself. The students were more than a little surprised to hear how much Concord played a role in Sapporo's development, and took note of the "made in Waltham" imprint on many of the Clock Tower's gears.

The showstopper in the Clock Tower, however, was a tiny porcelain doll kept behind glass, a rare surviving "Friendship Doll" from a sister-city project begun by American Sydney Gulick in the 1920s. Under Gulick's plan, American and Japanese children exchanged these dolls across the oceans as a way of learning about one another's cultures. When the Pacific War broke out, Japan's military dictatorship banned the dolls and imprisoned or even killed those who possessed them, so great was their desire to not have their citizens see Americans as human. Nevertheless, a few courageous Japanese risked their lives to hide and protect the dolls, to hold on to some piece of that friendship. That, I told the students, was a past chapter of the struggle to make peace between nations - and they, right now, are acting out the chapter of the present. That's what this exchange trip is all about.

Of course, no one said the struggle to make peace between nations couldn't also be fun. By mid-day we took the students to a TEN-STORY ELECTRONICS STORE, which, to this crowd, was Mecca. They wandered through aisle after sensory-overloading aisle of flashing lights, digital flatscreens, blaring ipod speakers and multicolored doodads, practically spinning in circles trying to figure out how to take it all in and what to touch first. If they hadn't felt as if they were "in Japan" before, they sure did now! We chaperones breathlessly tried to keep up, tracking the kids like Minotaurs in a maze of silicon and noise. We didn't have to look too far - many of the kids gravitated towards the Pokemon store, reliving their youth with childhood friends like Pikachu (both small plush and giant size, ride-on versions), dancing to DDR, or clustered in photo-booths madly hitting buttons marked with kanji characters they couldn't read, eventually producing photo prints as souvenirs. And of course, what ten-story electronics store would be complete without a pet shop? Don't even ask...suffice to say, it was adorable.

For lunch, we dined on the top story, which housed (just run with me on this one) an autonomous ramen republic. Yes, a faux-nation composed of ramen noodle restaurants, complete with mini-locomotive and its own national anthem. After sampling the wares, several students asked how they could become citizens!

After lunch we took on a more formal tone, as it was time for our official welcome. We were ushered in to an audience with no less a personage than the Deputy-Governor of the State of Hokkaido; yes, that is how seriously the Japanese take this sister-city/sister-state relationship. Dressed in our finest, we sat down at the diplomatic table and then rose to meet the Deputy-Governor, who greeted us warmly through his translator. Superintendent Rigby and I both gave speeches, followed by scifi club co-presidents Susanna Hamilton and Liz Visosky, who discharged their first ambassadorial duties with admirable composure and bearing. We exchanged gifts, as per the Japanese tradition, and then entered into a conversation in which the Deputy-Governor, in a surprising departure from formal protocol, asked all about the kids' favorite Anime and Manga, and admitted to being a fan of "Dragonball Z"...which, he added somewhat hastily, he only watched because his son did. Of course.

(But we know a closet geek when we see one!)

After a tour of the old state house and some nice photo ops, we bid farewell to our guides and set back out on the bus to the Hisgashi Commercial High School. As you may know, CCHS has had close relationships with Nanae High School and Sapporo Shiroishi High School, but this was the first joint event with the Higashi School, whose acquaintance the last adult delegation to Japan made just the past summer. This trip would be a test case.

The first signs look wonderful! As our bus pulled up, Higashi students dropped whatever they were doing to wave and shout hellos. As our students piled off the bus, they looked up to see their Higashi counterparts waving out from third-story windows. By the time we got our luggage off the bus, a small crowd had swelled, full of squeals and shouts, including (as I happily translated for our students), "omigod, they're so cute!"

Our kids were, as you might expect, a little awestruck. "I feel like we've suddenly become the Jonas Brothers," one of them said breathlessly.

We took off our shoes and donned slippers as we entered the spotless, hardwood-floored school building, and in every hall, students and faculty stopped what they were doing to greet us heartily. The warmth of the welcome was stunning.

We were led at last into a room where our students' homestay families awaited, signs bearing the CCHS' kids names held high. In an eyeblink, everyone was suddenly paired up, communicating with wild gestures, smiles, phrasebooks and pantomimes. Soon hands were being held and photos were being exchanged, and within minutes it looked like friendships were beginning. It was truly remarkable to see the smiles on everyone's faces as it came time to prepare to head out. "I was a little scared at first," a CC student confided in me, "but now I think everything's going to be ok."

And as the sun set on the first full day of our journey, it looked as if everything was. The chaperones felt somehow a little heavier, not lighter, to suddenly have those 17 kids off our hands...it was hard not to envy the host families, just a little! But we're eagerly anticipating hearing of the kids' adventures tomorrow morning when we meet for the much-anticipated Anime Summit.

As a coda, the adults had our own little adventure that night - I took the other chaperones out to a kaiten sushi shop, where a circular conveyor belt brought endless plates of multicolored raw fish around and around while lively cooks and waitresses conducted a nonstop shouting exchange. As the only "gaijin" (Westerners) in the room, we drew some attention, and the chefs rang a loud bell and brought out the piece de la resistance, perhaps in honor of our presence: a live, wriggling Octopus the size of a small dog, which they proceeded to parade around and then...ewww...chop up before our eyes!

It's all part of the experience. I can't wait to hear what experiences the kids had last night.


Sincerely,

David Nurenberg