enoshima island--my religion

Wow, I can't believe I have left this blog untouched for nearly three months. It's a bad habit to stop writing whenever I get stuck with something--a chapter, a paragraph, a sentence, or even a word. This time it was a pending review of a film that I really, really liked. Really, really liking something sometimes makes it extremely difficult to write about it while you are still extremely wanting to do so.

While the review stayed pending, there have been other things also pending. There are times in your life when it just seems impossible for any progress to be made and you are running out of the energy to change it, and the past month or so of my life has been that way. It's like a rainy season and I know it will go sooner or later. I tell myself that every time. Still, it is frustrating when you are drowned in this strong sense of stagnation.

So today, though I was still dragging the aftereffect of the recent stomach flu, I decided to pay a visit to Enoshima Island.

I don't see myself belonging to any religion, but the way I have been with this small island, I might as well call it my religion. There are shrines up the long stairway, and I do always visit the first one whenever I visit the island to go through the usual "worshiping" ritual, throwing in coins, bowing, clapping, then bowing again after you finish your "prayer." For me, and probably for many Japanese people who visit there, this act has hardly any religious connotation. It is rather cultural and a way to show respect just as taking off one's shoes before entering the house. When I put my hands together and close my eyes in front of the shrine, my words are directed toward not only the goddess of the shrine but also the island, the ocean, the trees, everything that surrounds me on the island.

But, yes, I might as well call this island my religion because I do go there seeking support and comfort and I always find it. I came here before my college entrance exam. I came here while I was applying for grad school in the States. I came here when my mother got sick and when she was recovering. I came here after the earthquake in March. Every time, somehow, it got better. I felt better. If nothing else, it is a truly pleasant place to visit especially on a sunny day like today.

I was there only for an hour or so, visiting the shrine, walking around, taking pictures and browsing shops. The wind was gushing, making the ends of my scarf flatter and leaving my hair all messy. The sun was high up all while and black kites were floating in the blue of the sky. All was beautiful, and it gave me back my energy. Yes, again, I found what I was looking for in Enoshima.

thursday night

We went to a bar in Yokohama called The Tavern. The decor was nice. Lots of glasses, bottles, very bar-like. It was also a Ladies' night (every Thursday is) so the drinks were half off. We spoke with a friendly bartender from Spain and made a promise of visiting his country after he goes back. It was good, for my friend and I both missed speaking English. It's funny there are actually quite a many opportunities out there to speak the language in Japan if we just look, and I sometimes went for days hardly speaking English in San Francisco because I wasn't really looking for chances. Looking makes a difference.

The rain is hitting the windowpanes and I'm singing Priscilla Ahn's Rain in my head. It's a peaceful night.

longing for beer

Beer never was my favorite drink before moving to the States. Whenever I went out to an izakaya, I would order anything but beer. Cocktail, umeshu (plum sake), or something that's sweet.

But in the States, at bars where poor grad students would go out to, it could be complicated and pricey to get "something sweet" that was good. After getting cocktails that were too sweet and strong a few times, I gave in and just started ordering beer.

First, I was getting used to the taste.
I learned there were darker beers and lighter beers.
I learned I liked beers that are in the middle to the lighter side.
Then, finally, I started to be able to tell the subtler differences little by little.

I don't remember exactly when it was that I thought I liked beer. Maybe it was when I tried some German beer at Suppenkuche, a great German restaurant in San Francisco. Maybe it was around when I tried New Castle for the first time at a bar in Long Beach. It took me a few years, and I'm still a novice--I stumble due to lack of vocabulary when the bartender asks me what type of beer I like because I usually just rely on the color--but now I much prefer beer to "something sweet" oftentimes, especially with a meal.

And because I hadn't known the joy of drinking beer while I had lived in Japan, I didn't know, in my life in the States, I was being spoiled by the variety and the quality the country offers when it comes to beer. I thought it was normal for a bar to have different types of beer, at least three or four of them, on tap. Different colors, possibly from different countries.

Then I came back to Japan, and found that beer is Beer. Just one. No other choices. You go to an izakaya and order Beer. Of course, there are place that carry more than one type of beer, but they are usually all pretty similar, the light, Japanese-style beer. Don't take me wrong, I love Japanese beer, too. Sapporo is good. Kirin is nice. But when it comes to the variety, it's surprising how little it is compared to other drinks--they carry seven different types of umeshu (plum sake), ten sojus and twelve cocktails and sours!

I guess that explains why I used to prefer other drinks, often sweet, to beer before. Simply, most izakayas in Japan have much better a selection of those.

So I've been a little frustrated with the beer situation in Japan since I came back. The low-malt beer my parents drink didn't satisfy me. I went out and had some draft beer. It was good, but not enough. I missed being able to choose which beer I wanted. The tap handles.

Then, tonight, I found the perfect place.

The bar is called The Taproom, and it's located in Yokohama near the Kannai station. The place looks pretty little, though it sounds like it's actually not with the upstairs space with extra seats, and the wooden interior has such a cozy, warm feeling to it. And, oh, the tap handles! My heart shivered with joy when I saw there are about fifteen or so of them behind the counter. I tried a Belgian beer called Winter Wit and another beer brewed by Baird, the Japanese company in Shizuoka that owns the bar, both of which were really really good; and their American style BBQ was actually better than the BBQ I'd tried in California!

We started talking with the bartender, and when he found out my friend was from Denver, he told us he'd gone there for Great American Beer Festival last year and stopped by at several breweries. He couldn't remember their names when my friend asked, but he said, "I'll check when I go home and let you know next time. You're coming back, right?"

Without hesitation, we said, "Yes!"

So for now, I'm happy to say I've got The Taproom to fulfill my thirst for beer and the whole bar experience-random tipsy conversation, a tiny bathroom and paying at the counter (yes, even little things like that), and hopefully, I will find more places like this as I continue with my search.