Reimagining the possible

Reisenji Lake

Three years ago, when my son was still two, we would walk from our house to Reisenji Lake, which is 10 minutes on foot for me by myself, but would take 30 or 45 minutes with him in tow, including all the stops, to examine flowers, pick leaves, and munch on wild gooseberries. Some friends of ours owned a cafe next to the lake, so we could stop to have a snack after playing in the park before heading back home. It was a kind of perfect arrangement; for Jonah the walk was a challenge, and it ended with a bit of food incentive, in the understanding that as Mullers we both think with our stomachs first. However, last year a few things changed. The cafe closed and Jonah started cycling with training wheels, and so the same path up to the lake, him on his bicycle and me walking, was still a challenge, but less so for Jonah. From this year, the trip became even less challenging for him than it had been, with Jonah now five, and for me the lack of food at the end of the trail sent my stomach searching for an alternative route.

A few weeks ago I thought I had finally found it; there's a corn shop about 6km (3 and 3/4 miles) from our house, on a relatively calm road, with two parks between here and there. It appeared to have all the necessary components for an adventure run; a challenge for both of us, Jonah on the bicycle, me on foot, rest stops between here and there in the form of parks, and food at the end, in the form of sweet corn stalls and a soba restaurant.

And so, we set out on the first Sunday after the rainy season, when the sun was scorching and the humidity was through the roof from all the water on the ground - me on foot, Jonah on his bicycle. You can see the route here. Make sure to select show → elevation profile while you're there. It'll become important in a little bit.

Jonah on our adventure

With several stops along the way, including one for Jonah to take a picture of a grave site he was enamored of, and for me to take a picture of him, about 30 minutes of playing in a temple park, after about 2 1/2 hours we finally arrived at the corn stands, only to find that of the three, only one was open, and they weren't selling any corn. So we had blueberries instead.

After the blueberry snack we visited the soba restaurant for lunch, and I called Yuki, who came to meet us in the van - our family crash mobile - to give us a ride back.

This is where the story takes a turn. As Yuki is walking over to our table, Jonah looks at her, the van, puts two and two together, and as she enters earshot says, "I want to cycle home."

Blueberries!

I almost told Yuki she could walk with him and I would drive back, but I reminded myself that many times you learn from others what's possible and not possible, and I asked myself whether I wanted to tell Jonah that it wasn't possible for us to do the round trip without at least trying it. So after Yuki had her lunch and we had rested for a bit, she and I explained to Jonah that he didn't have to cycle back, but if he wanted to, we could try. However, if he got tired it would be OK to call for a rescue and it wouldn't be a problem.

He agreed and the two of us set off again. Remember the elevation profile? You lose about 80 meters (260 ft) going from our place to the corn stalls. On the way back we had to gain back that elevation, which meant more of me pushing Jonah, as his kids bicycle has only one gear. But in the end we did it, with the requisite stop at a park and several water breaks.

And what was the first thing Yuki said when her victorious men tromped through the door? "Good job. Now go take a shower."

All told it was a 6 1/2 hour day, leaving at 10:00 and returning at 4:30. We did the one way again on Monday, narrowing our time down to 2 hours. (Yuki gave us a ride back that time).

I think I have a winner in this new route.

Lunch!

Jonah eating

Close to home

It's an interesting question to be asked, after having lived in Japan for ten years, "When was the last time you went home?"—where the question refers not to my nice house in the mountains, but instead to the places in America where my parents live. From my perspective, unless I'm traveling, the last time I was home was right before I left in the morning to go to work. And it's even stranger when someone asks me that while I'm at home. I have to look around and get my bearings, just to make sure I'm clear what home means to me before I ask them what it means to them.

That said, this summer, for the first time in five years or so, I'll be heading back to what once was my home, which brings me to the topic of this post. Fortunately, Japan and the US are both members of the visa waiver program, so I can travel with my Japanese wife in the states for up to 90 days without having to go through the inconvenience and (considerable) expense of getting a visa for her. In the past, it's been as simple as buying the airline tickets and then jumping on the plane. Unfortunately, that's all changed recently; now all non-US citizens must register their intent to enter the US using the Visa Waiver program via a new online system, Electronic System for Travel Authorization (ESTA).

Aware that it's my family we're going to visit, I decided I should be the one to navigate the ESTA website to get travel authorization arranged for my wife, Yuki. It was relatively painless as far as entering information and getting to the page that tells me what I already know; my wife isn't on any problematic watch lists which would prevent her from flying. But the language I read as I navigated through the site was, in my opinion, unconscionable. Here's an extract of a particularly disagreeable block of prose:
Waiver of Rights: I have read and understand that I hereby waive for the duration of my travel authorization obtained via ESTA any rights to review or appeal of a U.S. Customs and Border Protection Officer's determination as to my admissibility, or to contest, other than on the basis of an application for asylum, any removal action arising from an application for admission under the Visa Waiver Program.

In addition to the above waiver, as a condition of each admission into the United States under the Visa Waiver Program, I agree that the submission of biometric identifiers (including fingerprints and photographs) during processing upon arrival in the United States shall reaffirm my waiver of any rights to review or appeal of a U.S. Customs and Border Protection Officer's determination as to my admissibility, or to contest, other than on the basis of an application for asylum, any removal action arising from an application for admission under the Visa Waiver Program.

So not only is my wife required to request permission of the US government to enter the country that issues my passport, but she also has to waive all of her rights to appeal as part of that request. Twice, just for effect, as when they fingerprint and photograph her at immigration, that's a second affirmation of her waiver of her rights.

That language would certainly turn me off from visiting a foreign country. Considering the deplorable state of the US economy and the ensuing drop in tourism, particularly after the gulf oil spill, your would think there would be more effort to encourage foreign visitors. Something like:
Thanks for considering visiting the United States. While we welcome foreign visitors to our shores, international travelers seeking to enter the United States under the Visa Waiver program must now first apply for authorization...

Instead this is what their site says:
International travelers who are seeking to travel to the United States under the Visa Waiver Program are now subject to enhanced security requirements. All eligible travelers who wish to travel under the Visa Waiver Program must apply for authorization...

Considering how hospitable the welcome mat was for this trip, it may be another five years before I find myself returning to the US again.

To infinity...and beyond!

I recently switched operating systems from Fedora to Ubuntu, and have been particularly happy that with the new OS. It’s almost like I upgraded my graphics card; video and 3D rendering is much smoother. The main result has been that I find myself visiting Google Earth more often. So, when after a conversation with overseas grandparents, I had to explain to my soon-to-be 5 year-old why his grandparents in the states wouldn’t be able to visit Japan for his birthday, I turned to Google Earth to show him just where we are and where they are.

And I was greeted by a refrain I’ve become used to by now. "Can I have that one on my computer?"

So after a little bit of searching I had Google Earth running on his computer, which still uses Fedora, but has the benefit of a dedicated graphics card to make things run more smoothly. I turned my back for a minute or so then heard, "Can I print this one?" Looking at the picture Jonah wanted to print, I had no idea where in the world he was.

Because he wasn’t on this world.

He had gone to Mars.

After getting his computer’s printer going and once Mars rover pictures started pouring out, I wondered at the implications this experience could have for the future. After all, if you visited Mars in pictures at the age of four, then it would seem a reasonable jump to expect to be able to visit the red planet in person as an adult. Or perhaps it would be better to put it this way; after having visited the red planet and explored it in detail at the age of four, it would be particularly disappointing to at the age of 24 not be able to go there in person.

I think of that day as one where I lost quite a bit of printer ink and paper but gained a little more hope for the future.

There's more to my classroom than what I can see

Yesterday I had a class with a student who has been out of school long enough that he's one of the few true beginners for studying English. He tries to communicate by first writing what he wants to say in Japanese then laboriously translating each word into English. I've been teaching long enough that I can generally infer what he wants to say, but this has been going on for more than a year now, and his progress in spoken English remains excruciatingly slow.
Despite this, his company has decided to transfer him to Hong Kong to work in April, and in our lesson last week he asked how to introduce himself in English to his new co-workers. After covering that topic for about half the class, I asked what other concerns he had regarding navigating life in Hong Kong. We finished the class with homework for him to prepare his self-introduction and to think about other questions/concerns he had regarding his move.
He came to class yesterday with a prepared letter, translated from Japanese to English as usual, that explained he hadn't had time to prepare his self-introduction homework because he was busy each day consecutively. He went on to read that his concerns regarding Hong Kong include the fact that his son will be looking for employment from this year, his daughter is handicapped and looking for employment, his parents are past 80 and in and out of the hospital, he's worried that his wife isn't strong enough to deal with all of these problems, and finally he's concerned about paying his house loan while he's away. English didn't even make the list.
His story reminded me that what I see in my classroom is just a small slice of the life my students live, and that in many cases issues outside of my knowledge or control can influence how much time and energy they have to devote to their studies.