Day 13 - 2 hours of patience for 10 seconds of....

 

Given our fond memories of “dinner with beavers” in Argentina (a story for another day), we thought that signing up for the evening nature walk to see flying squirrels in Japan would be interesting.   So, we went to the nature center at 5:30 to join the walk.   One hour later we were still sitting in a “classroom”, with one other couple, listening to a lecture on flying squirrels...  in Japanese!  This was not really what we were expecting, and you too might be wondering: what all would someone cover while speaking for an hour about those darling little things? Well, there was the 10 minutes to show us how they eat leaves, including attempts (attempt being the operative word) to translate to English (as if you need much explanation for a chewed-up leaf), another 10 minutes to show a chewed-up pine cone, including demonstration of how they do it - picture a little Japanese lady that was very sweet and even more into flying squirrels imitating how they eat pine cones (also picture all of us imitating the demonstration).  Even though this was the proverbial “not what we signed up for”, it was already well worth our money. There was another 10 or so minutes on their bone structure (mostly on how it provides better aerodynamics) and 20 minutes to tell us how to behave during the walk – which can be summarized in 6 words: be quiet and do not move. Finally the last 10 minutes was consumed by passing around small plastic containers that included various samples… the eaten leaves, pine cones, foot prints, chewed bark and flying squirrel poop.  For detail, please note that to bring the rest of this lecture to life, it was accompanied by large laminated picture posters.  

If this was not enough, Choci threw the biggest tantrum of her life during the class, and we traded back and forth with one of us sitting in the class, and the other trying to calm her and understand what she wanted (note – we later found out that eggs, chicken and toast which she devoured at high speed… was most helpful. We could almost hear her say - come on parental dudes, after 2 weeks of rice, fish and weird gooey balls (more on this later), please just give me some real food!)

Following the 20 minute overview of squirrel educate, even though it was in Japanese, we had a clear notion that a “not happy baby” was probably also ‘not OK’ for the nature walk, so Kenobi nicely volunteered to take care of our little one so I could take the hike with my fellow educated flying squirrel enthusiasts.

 I have to confess, I always had a liking for squirrels. Since as a little girl in London, one of their kind climbed my coat to get the nuts that I was holding in my hands, and I found him almost as cute as Pierce Brosnan in tuxedo.  So here I go, finally leaving the classroom on an adventure to see the wild giant flying squirrel of Japan, the king of all squirrels. That adventure ended about 20 seconds later and 20 meters from the classroom (not exaggerating) in front of a tree with a little wooden house.

Following arrival to the flying squirrel viewing grounds, we stood in a little group and the guide tried to connect a black cable that came down from the box on the tree to a computer she brought with her. It did not work. To another computer (she brought multiple ones). It did not work. To a camera. It did not work. To the first computer again. And then magic, it worked! Computers must be quantic.

And then, we could all admire the squirrel (translate – ball of fur) in his little home as he slept. For an hour, we waited for the ball of fur to wake up. It kind of wiggled once in a while and we all got excited – especially the guide. All standing there still huddling in a little group. It was dark and cold, and I started to shiver.  Then, suddenly the ball of fur popped up and stuck his head out of the little wooden house, looked around, climbed on top of the tree and stopped. Straining eyes, and even with the complementary binoculars, you could barely make out that there was an animal there at all given the light and the distance.  The squirrel did not move and we all waited straining to see and tensed for something more…  waited… waited… Then, the ultimate experience. He jumped.  Picture a square white wash cloth being thrown from one tree and crashing onto the next. Those darling things should not be called flying squirrels but crashing squirrels. It lasted 3 seconds at best. The guide was so happy.  Well, I know a lot of the best things in life do not last long… and then a miracle, he jumped again!  Crashing little white wash cloth in the dark of the night.  The guide now was ecstatic, bowing to us again and again and we were all smiles bowing back. Two jumps, that rarely happens.  Usually there is only one.  And with that, we were done.   We took the walk back to the class room, and there all received stamped certificates to verify that we had observed a wild giant flying squirrel in its natural habitat. There were a few more bows and smiles, and then, certificate in hand I headed back to the warmth of our cabin and a nice late night soak in the local hot spring.

After thought – I might revise my reincarnation wish. Snow monkeys soaking in hot tubs while getting back rubs just might have more fun than squirrels crashing into trees at high speed head first.