Japan

When people ask where our next destination is, the query is often immediately followed with “what made you choose that?” Japan was no exception. You see, I don’t come from a family of world travelers and for the most part, neither does my wife. Some would consider us both the black sheep of our families. I like to think that the Lord simply gave us a hunger to enjoy the vast array of cultures and scenery in His creation. Japan has always had a spot on my ever-growing list of destinations. Primarily to experience the pink petal kissed sidewalks of spring or to enjoy the amber and red hughes of autumn. We found ourselves booking flights mid summer for a late July early August excursion. After securing an amazing flight deal, we had our eyes set on a grand and adventurous time in the island country. What we failed to realize was that everything was incredibly cheap because Japan’s summers are not for the weak (and when I say that, I mean it). 

We boarded our plane in Raleigh, North Carolina and flew cross country to Los Angeles, hopped on another flight and after getting perhaps three or four hours of sleep in the air, found ourselves on the other side of the world. Our first impression of Japan was actually just as one would expect it. The airport was directly connected to a train station and as we meandered along to find our way across town, we were met with people politely walking through what could have easily been the cleanest airport I’ve ever stepped foot into. We had a few kind people who advised us on where to go and even the most efficient way to pay for our train fare. Side note, Japanese public restrooms were not what I was expecting. You hear of Japan having smart toilets with a myriad of buttons but I always thought those were reserved for private residences and fancy hotels. I’ll never forget the look on my wife’s face as she stepped out of the women’s restroom in the airport. “I got in there and went to pee and all of a sudden there was a noise that sounded like running water and I was looking around wondering if I was about to get absolutely blasted by the bidet. In my panic I found a button on the wall that had a red octagon, because there were at least a dozen, and I was pressing that thing like my life depended on it,” she said. We both had a good laugh about that as we walked toward the train. 

Our first night was quite uneventful. We navigated (successfully I might add) by train as close to our Airbnb as we could and fell asleep quickly due to our pure exhaustion. The next morning we woke up, ready to take on our first day and more importantly, our first souffle pancakes. After filling our bellies with jiggly breakfast foods, we explored the town. We hit so many places on our list that first day that I genuinely cannot recall all of them. I do however recall seeing a meerkat on a leash dressed in a 7/11 uniform led by this little old lady at one of the temples. During our time in Tokyo, we went to as many mainstream spots as we could but in more typical fashion for us, we also sought out more local and culturally rich experiences. 

I had read about this traditional Japanese tea house in a book about experiencing Tokyo like a local. After a somewhat lengthy train ride and a short stroll, we finally arrived. Tucked back behind another building, we stepped into the entrance and were met by a lush, mossy garden with a stone paver trail leading to the door of a picturesque little building made mostly of windows. Inside we could see only locals, sat cross-legged around small tables, enjoying the afternoon with tea and treats. As we stepped in and took our shoes off, other patrons began looking around. As if to say, “how the heck did they find this place.” The little old lady who took our order met us with a smile and as we pointed to the items we wanted to order on the menu, she bowed and scurried away. We sat, enjoying the air conditioning and each other's company as we waited. I ordered an iced matcha latte, my wife a lemon shaved ice. 

Both items are a cultural must have during the heat of summer in Japan. When I mentioned this time of year is not for the weak I mean it with every fiber of my being. It was hot. Beyond hot actually. We thought that being an island country, there would be ample breeze to break up the high temperatures and humidity. We were incredibly wrong. This wasn’t any normal heat either. It was the kind that makes you feel as though you can’t breathe. A suffocating, stagnant heat that was only remedied by finding a cool spot to pop into for a few minutes. We conformed quickly to the norms of locals, with a sunbrella, a portable handheld fan, and a small cloth to wipe sweat from our faces. Everyone warned us that extreme sunburns were a real threat during Japanese summers but honest to goodness, there was no way we could have kept sunscreen on our bodies. The people of Japan believe that summer is a time where the veil between the mortal realm and hell is the thinnest and let me tell you, I can understand to an extent why they might think that. Every inch of our clothes were wet after just an hour or so outside. While we were fortunate not to suffer any sunburns (I think the salt built up on our skin was enough to protect us), dehydration was a serious risk. Feeling depleted of all electrolytes, we did what any reasonable person would do and b-lined to the closest konbini to find a sports drink. The drink we found is quite possibly my favorite bottled beverage. Pocari Sweat. Aptly named since it seemed like all we could do was sweat. This grapefruit flavored drink felt like it breathed life back into me the second it hit my tongue and I spent the rest of our trip bouncing between bottles of it and huge one liter bottles of water. 

After finding what seemed like a God-sent source of electrolyte goodness, we proceeded on our journey to see as much as possible each day. So much so that we found ourselves rushing to a temple that I had also read about in the same aforementioned book. The pictures online showed an image that every photographer would love to capture. A still, glassy koi pond with a picturesque orangey-red wooden bridge that nearly kissed the temple building. We got there 30 minutes before they closed and looked at each other with concern when we realized that according to the map, the picture spot was at the very back of the property. Assuming we would be surrounded by at least one hundred other people, as we had been at every shrine and temple, we nearly gasped in astonishment when we realized we were the only souls back there. The beauty of the architecture was met with quiet moments of reflection. 

We had seen a lot of temples and shrines at this point and each one, while markedly different in architecture and layout, left us with the same heavy feeling. As people whose hope lies in Jesus Christ, and believing that His death and resurrection accomplished everything necessary for us to have eternal life through our belief in Him, the weight of witnessing lostness and true hopelessness was overwhelming. It’s easy to be far removed from practices such as idolatry when you live in the Bible belt of America. To watch first hand as people wrote their prayers on wooden tokens for someone else to bring to their god broke our hearts. If only they knew that the God of the universe craves a personal relationship with each and every one of us. That we do not have to look to gold statues and bow our heads knowing we will never be holy or good enough, but rather that the Lord of Lord and King of Kings created us to be image bearers of His son Jesus. 

As we learned more about the various religions of Japan, we were shocked that in our entire ten days, we only saw one church and it was not open to the public. To put it into perspective, there are hundreds of temples and shrines in any given radius of major cities or towns. We read in astonishment the teachings of their religions only to begin to understand why this culture suffers so greatly with depression and suicide. We talked about how hopeless it must be to not be able to live up to the expectations of their gods and religion and about how we wish we could explain to them that there is true hope to be had in Christ Jesus. We prayed silently to God when we entered temples and shrines, that the Holy Spirit would intercede in the lives of the lost and reveal to them where hope eternal truly comes from. 

Aside from the spiritual heaviness, we truly enjoyed seeing the unique architecture of the temples and shrines and learning about their historical significance and preservation. Each place we went, we ate something spectacularly delicious (if you’ve ever had Japanese tanghulu you know exactly what I mean) as we walked more miles in a day than we had ever dared to before. Our total mileage tipped the scales at over 120 miles walked by the time we left. We of course picked up souvenirs for friends and family while we were there, making sure to grab a small piece of pottery and a fridge magnet, which we always try to obtain. We left feeling spiritually compelled, culinarily satisfied, impressed by our ability to push our bodies, and excited to share our stories with everyone back home. Perhaps we will go back to Japan again, with hearts more prepared to handle the lostness, feet more prepared to walk many miles and mouths ready to dive into all the culinary goodness there is to offer.

-Until the next adventure