I went to my first Japanese baseball game this weekend.  It was wild.  I don’t know if words are enough to describe it.  First off, there were no hotdogs.  Instead, they served takoyaki (octopus and miscellaneous ingredients formed into balls).  There was also endless noise.  When the Softbank Hawks (woo!!) were up to bat, nearly 7/8th of the stadium were cheering, chanting, hitting plastic baseball bats together to the beat that a marching band was giving.  When the Cebu Lions were up to bat, a group of maybe 100 people two sections away from me stood up and did the same, all with their own marching band as well.  My head hurt by the end of the 12 innings…it never stopped once. 

Have you ever been one of the oddballs rooting for “the other team”?  Whether it was at the actual event, or just with a small group of friends in someone’s basement?  I have.  I rather enjoy it though.  For some reason I love antagonizing people, especially when it comes to sports.  I don’t care much for any sport besides baseball and tennis, and tennis is the only sport that I really root for a specific person only.  All the other sports, I really don’t care.  But my mom and her family are from Pittsburgh but I have lived in Ohio for most of my life.  Not just Ohio, but near Cincinnati…Bengal country.  Naturally, I root for the Steelers every chance I get (again, I really don’t care…but it’s fun to bug my friends with it).  I have a t-shirt, my mom has a Terrible Towel…we rock it out when the Steelers play the Bengals…and many can’t stand it!  I’m often the only one in the room with black and gold, and the rest are striped orange and black.

My friend and I were talking about this phenomenon and how you could easily become intimidated by the crowd around you rooting for the other team.  Especially with all the noise that is made at Japanese baseball games, it was easy to find myself tapping my foot to the beat of the opposing marching band and chant.  She said that it brought to mind what it is like to be a Christian in the world.  Now, in America, and some other countries, it’s really easy to get settled with a group of other believers, but here in Japan, there aren’t as many.  Sometimes it’s just a small group sticking it out among a huge crowd of people who are Buddhist, or Shinto, or atheists.

Often we lose track of our own chanting and marching band and begin tapping our feet to the “other team”‘s melodies.  We get distracted from watching the game and start looking at the people around us.  What are they going to think of me?  What will they do if I really put everything I can into supporting my team?  I have a friend who was at a Bengals/Steelers game when he was a kid.  Some Steelers (not a bright part for my guys) fans dumped a cup of pop…or maybe it was beer…down his back.  He was traumatized by it and really can’t stand the Steelers now.  I don’t blame him.  I still root for them, but back to my point.  There’s always a chance that we will be rejected for who we support.  There’s a chance that we will be distracted and stop rooting for our team. 

But, we have something that the other guys don’t.  We know the Manager!  And we have a special heads up in knowing that our team is going to win!  Why should we ever back down from being who we are?! 

Have you become distracted and started cheering with the world instead?  What distracted you?  Are you rooting for the home team again?  If not, why?  What’s holding you back?

August 18th, 2008

When in the morning
The sun’s first rays of daffodil tears
Break through the glass
And sweep across my face,
My mind is flooded with thoughts –
Worries and plans, joys and sadness
All come in with the morning light.
As a cloud passes under the sun,
Its shadow is God’s gentle reminder
To stop and remember Him.
My eyes close again
But not to return to slumber.
Instead, it throws me at His feet,
The feet of the One Who holds all.
He shows me the coming day
Through His crystal clear pane.
The sight is foggy, muddled and
I’m unsure of His purpose.
As I peer longer, an image takes form
And I’m aware of the reflection in the glass,
With my Father’s strong arms around me.
I sigh and gaze at the peaceful scene,
But then it changes.
Slowly my reflection disappears
And He is all that remains.
Tears fall from my eyes as the knowledge
Of Who He is and who I’m not
Fills my mind.
My day is now in order
And I open my eyes to
Rejoice in His beautiful sunlight.

 – Cricket ><>

I went to Hiroshima on Thursday, by myself.  I was pretty excited.  I’ve been preparing for this trip for a solid month…at least.  The plan was to take the Japan Rail slow train to either Kokura or Shin-Shimonoseki (about 15 minutes) and then catch a shinkansen bullet train to Hiroshima (about 45 minutes).  In order to save money, I decided to take the shinkansen from Shin-Shimonoseki. 

It was really neat.  My first time on a speed train.  Alas, as we were all lined up to board, I noticed that not many people were going to the last unreserved car, so I went on over…only to discover that people were smoking on it!  Yuck.  It took me a couple stops to realize that I was in the smoking car, so I switched to the next car and was able to breathe for the last half of the trip. 

When I stepped off the train, I was so disoriented.  It took me a good 10 minutes to find a map, in English.  I sat in the terminal and tried to get my bearings.  I felt pretty good about it, so I walked out toward the city.  Not before long, though, the streets I was walking along were not matching up with the map.  So, I asked a waitress a very handy question indeed, “Watashi-wa doko desuka?”  (Where am I?)  She didn’t know how to explain, so she pulled her boss/cook aside and he told me that I was going East when I wanted to go West.  I came out of the wrong side of the train station. 

I was able to make it back to the station and get on the correct side when Aki called me and said that she and Taka would meet me in front of the baseball stadium.  I felt like I could get there alright…they have streetcars that go straight there from the train station.  So, I got on and started hyperventilating a little bit.  Now, I usually can keep my cool when I’m traveling around places, but this time, I was so discombobulated.  If any of you watch LOST, you know that Desmond did a bit of time travel in his mind during this past season.  One thing he discovered was that you need a constant…something that is the same in one time as well as in another.  Without it, your brain will explode.  I’ve come to the conclusion that this is necessary for regular travel as well.  Thankfully, Taka and Aki were more than willing to oblige as my constant and after sitting down for some okonomiyaki lunch, I felt much more at ease. 

We went to the Peace Park, saw the A-Bomb Dome.  It is the closest building to the blast site to still be standing, so they have left it in its original condition (post bomb of course) as a reminder of the travesty of nuclear warfare.  It was pretty strange being there…as an American…watching and learning firsthand the destruction brought to Japan by my own country.  I still don’t know how I feel about the whole thing.  I think there are very valid points on both sides.  Just now, I think I have decided…yes…I have come to the conclusion that war is ugly.  No one really wins in it.  No sir, I don’t like it.  I have another post on here, a couple blogs back, that discusses some more things indepth dealing with the war, so you should look at that if you have time and are interested.

While we were in front of the Peace Flame and Memorial Cenotaph, two Jehovah’s Witnesses came up to us and began to witness to us.  It was crazy.  Here we were, three Christians, in the middle of Hiroshima, being witnessed to by JW’s, while people near us were bowing down and offering flowers, money, and incense to the souls of the victims of the bomb.  It was so strange, in fact, to me that I began video-taping it.  I have the link below for you.

After that part of the city, the Asada’s and I parted ways.  They had a baseball game to go see, and I was sufficiently buffeted with my constant (which I have concluded to not only be the Asada’s but also food in general), so I went off to explore some more parts of the city.  I went to the Hiroshima Museum of Art (not planned…but there was an exhibition of Parisienne Art) and then walked toward the Hiroshima Castle.  There, in front of a vending machine, I met three tourists from Amsterdam, Holland.  When in the East, it’s typical for foreignors not to acknowledge other foreignors.  I’m not sure why…but it’s almost an unspoken rule.  I hate it.  So, I spoke out that you could tell we were all foreignors because we are actually hydrating ourselves.  They laughed and agreed and then the acquaintance was made.  We went in the castle together discussing our different purposes for being in the country…mine being scrutinized by the one agnostic guy, praised by the one Christian guy, and disregarded by the atheistic woman.  It was a really neat “coincidence” and I hope that I was able to bless their lives a little in that time we spent together in the castle. 

After that I went to a coffee house and sipped some ice coffee while writing out 18…yes, 18…postcards.  I had bought stamps earlier that day and planned to drop them in the mailbox by the train station before boarding the JR slow train back to Shimonoseki.  I boarded the train, with a bag of McDonalds food…only because it was fast…don’t judge me.  Cringed when I saw a bunch of US Marines consider getting on my train, but they decided to wait for the next one through Iwakuni.  I was glad.  I had 4 hours ahead of me and I didn’t really want to be grouped in with a group of young Marines for one of those.  Around midnight, I got back to the Center and crashed in my bed.  Enjoy the pictures below!

My Pictures!

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=144077&l=e8a51&id=500635206
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=144080&l=75075&id=500635206

A Video for your enjoyment

http://jp.youtube.com/watch?v=BbeZ-JhVEXo