Putting on Your Own Sunscreen: Part 9
Life as a Ski Bum
At last, a moment of quiet.
I’m currently sitting in a halo of sunshine. The warmth is defrosting my bones, solid ice after almost two months of working outside every day as a ski instructor in glacial temperatures.
I’ve spent the morning enjoying this warmth. And quiet.
I’ve been reading a new book; Under the Tuscan Sun. I finished Tokyo Vice yesterday.
Along those summer themes, the sunshine is brightening up my blonde hair. It’s even warm enough that I’m wearing a flowy skirt and little top. My toes are cold though… So I’m wearing socks with my birks.
Outside my window, my little village home stretches down the valley. Mountains guard the horizon. Yesterday, there was a glorious sunset and a scattering of stars to whisper to. That once-in-a-lifetime comet taking up space in the night sky.
My village is blanketed in snow. It covers rooftops, cake covered in thick fondant icing.
The sun reflects off icicles hanging from rooftops sending a rainbow around my living room. The world glitters.
If I was to venture outside, I’d need to put on tights, another pair of socks, pants, a jumper, a puffer, a coat and scarf. It’s four degrees.
Oh, and I’d swap the birks for boots. These layers will be needed soon as I’m dreaming about this matcha doughnut from a nearby cafe.
For the past two months, my life has consisted of early-morning wake-ups, a 20-minute stroll (or more likely a 13-minute hoon because I’m running late) through my village, with a quick stop to get some mochi from the local konbini, up some steps, past a shrine, then running up a moving escalator to get to my work. Sweaty.
I haven’t had a day off other than a trip to Tokyo to see a visiting best friend from New Zealand, and it’s been brilliant.
My work day begins helping the Japanese Ski School set up the ski base. It involves putting out signs, blowing up the giant pickle mascot bouncy castle called Naski, and laughing with the other instructors.
My Japanese language skills remain, poor. But I try. One of my good friends is Yama. He’s one of the top dogs of the Japanese ski school. Not quite sure his age; Japanese people seem to remain ageless but maybe he’s around 60. Yama means mountain in Japanese.
He saw me the other day out skiing and gave me a kawaii compliment. A lot of my interactions with Japanese friends and strangers involve me being called kawaii 😂 Yama is likely the best skier on the mountain. Yesterday he was training ski patrol… Concerning when they should also be the best skiers on the mountain.
I teach a range of students. From 4-year-old kids who hurtle down the slope to teenage boys with ramen legs who try and talk to me about super rugby, to 50-year-old women who I giggle with about looking forward to a glass of wine at the day’s end.
I love my job… It’s exhausting and cold and my legs are tired from snow ploughing for hours on end. I’m broke; ski instructing isn’t very lucrative. And one day I was wearing nine layers and yet was still freezing… This girl was NOT made for winter.
…But every day, I meet such interesting people from all over the world. The other ski instructors I work with, also from all over the world (Spain, the Ukraine, Poland, Australia, New Zealand, the UK etc. etc), are dope.
My office is the mountain. I spend every day outside. I live on ramen and gyoza and weird snacks and a chocolate bar a day.
My job is SO much fun. There is no time to think, just an ephemeral moment to breathe and be right there, in the moment.
I have wanted to ski instruct in Japan since I first learned to ski 18 years ago… It’s unreal to think I’m actually living a dream come true.
Some days, I’m being paid to build a snowman/woman and to toboggan race down the slope.
Recently, I’ve had some of the best skiing of my life. The snow here is epic af. I’ve skied for hours through trees (almost into a few as well) and in powder up to my hips.
Yesterday, I spent 15 minutes looking for my phone as it somersaulted out of my pocket straight into some deep powder. LOL.
One of my favourite things is skiing down a slope, teaching and then hearing, “SAM, SAM, SAM!” from somewhere above me… Looking up, I see students from a few days ago, beaming on the chairlift, waving down to me, utterly thrilled to be out skiing on the mountain, despite freaaaaking out on the same slope where I taught them earlier that week.
I’m so proud of my lil kids.
Amongst all this hecticness, I’ve learned the importance of rest and solitude…
The other day, knackered from over-socialising, and feeling a little topsy-turvy, I went to Tokyo for a breath of fresh air.
Sitting on the bus for four hours was absolute bliss. One of my favourite things in life these days - a slow journey, listening to music and watching the world pass by out the window, a view to my thoughts.
I had been feeling utterly exhausted from having to motivate myself every day. To remind myself that everything was going to be okay…
Last year was the hardest year of my life. It was chaotic and I was all over the place, literally and metaphorically. I don’t exactly recommend trying to heal from a break-up and losing your best friend far away from all of your other friends and family, familiarity and comfort, as well as trying to work and live and travel in foreign places… At the end of the day, you only have yourself to pull you through. Farkkk me, it’s been a mad mission and struggle.
I cried at so many airports, on buses and on trains. My heart did desperate things.
Travelling is SO tough…
But I never gave up. I considered going back home, but I knew in my belly I had to keep going.
Pre-travelling, I really disliked spending time with myself. I couldn’t stand some of the thoughts in my head. The pit of despair I could topple into.
But, on that bus heading to Tokyo, alone… I realised just how content I was by myself.
Travelling is SO good…
It’s just a bit cheesy, but with all this time I’ve had to spend with myself, by myself, I have learned to be my own best friend and loudest cheerleader.
I was exhausted from motivating myself to keep going… Now, how good is that? I like to imagine my mind as a field of flowers. The other day I stumbled across some little drunk rambles I’d sent to myself… mantras, a reminder that I’m Samantha fucking Mythen (lol).
What you choose to keep in your mind affects what you keep in your heart, and this reflects on everything. This year, I’m keeping it simple. Choosing to put my attention, effort and energy into things that make me feel good. Why would you spend any time doing things that make you feel like shit? Life’s too short for that.
This year, I’m choosing gratitude and appreciation for my big lil heart that feels so much.
Of course, I’m not perfect.
I still cry when I’m drunk sometimes and write texts I can’t send, finger still hovering over the send button. I’m bad at letting go. I still do send broken-record word vomits to my best friends around the world. But those best friends remind me that they love my unlovable parts and that’s the love I deserve.
I still have slightly crooked teeth and overthink and over dream and am a cheesy romantic who is just quite a lot.
But I’m learning every day to throw myself into the arms of the universe.
Trust, the word of the day. Hope, the banned word of the day.
And maybe I won’t get braces anymore. Maybe that lil crooked front tooth that pokes out sometimes when I smile is a special part of who I am.
In Tokyo, I caught up with my dear friend Gabby. She had previously made it to my village just in time for New Years… Literally, as she’d hopped off the plane from New Zealand just a few hours before…
We drank Chūhai and waved hello to the new year while fireworks danced in the sky high above us.
It’s the best thing in the world to see someone you love after it’s been a while.
A few weeks later, we spent a few days together in Tokyo… Wandered the streets, ate lots of food, saw Avatar 2… Huge yes for the popcorn in Japan, you can have caramel and butter in the same box, just separated in the middle.
Tokyo is this stunning city, amazing for people-watching. So, much good fashion. The little trip amped up my excitement for after ski season as I’ll be working there with one of Japan’s biggest English-speaking magazines in their editorial department.
I waved Gabby see you later on a Thursday, not leaving until she disappeared into the crowds…. Because of my height, I can always see really far into the distance haha
By Saturday, I was back in Nozawa Onsen, feeling refreshed.
What spare time I have is filled with work shifts in a local vegan cafe/yoga studio/little spot of sunshine in wintry Nozawa, screaming out songs at karaoke, hunting konbini for snacks, drunk dmc’s, running the unofficial official Nozawa Onsen Instagram page, reading, attempting to make sourdough with Lil Dickie my starter, defrosting in the Onsen, and finally, writing.
And of course, skiing! I honestly cannot express HOW GOOD THE SNOW IS HERE. I am one lucky girl. I am utterly obsessed with the way the sunlight shines through the snow on the trees up on the mountain. It’s absolute magic.
Time is flying by here. I never know what the day is… It doesn’t matter when you don’t have weekends and can go party any night of the week… (not that I do, can confirm I’ve gone to bed at 9pm a few times aha).
A favourite spot in Nozawa is a local bar called Winterland. They have happy hour from 3 to 5 and then again from 9 to 10 where they sell gyoza and a pint for 1000 yen, such a good deal. One of my favourite memories so far happened there… I met some friends for the first happy hour and the next thing we’re still there and it’s the second happy hour. No clue where those five hours went… Chūhai are dangerous… We then set off for late-night ramen.
Another good memory is observing the annual Fire Festival. Every year, the 25-year-olds and 42-year-olds of the village (unlucky ages apparently, rip me turning a quarter of a century this year), hike up the mountain while getting insanely drunk off sake, they fell a few trees, race across the ski field pulling the trees, then for the next 48 hours, they build a big shrine. On January 15, with the 42-year-olds perched on top of the shrine, the 25-year-olds battle other villages trying to set the shrine on fire. Mad. Humans are whack.
We travel to lose our inhibitions. To care a little less about what people think of us as we grow more anchored within ourselves.
We travel to grow into the person we want to be, into the person we truly are… Seeking out the destinations that will be a catalyst for this growth and change.
In travelling last year, I sought to find a steadiness within myself.
In coming to Japan, I’ve wanted to continue that little adventure… In a place where I’m so different from the people around me, I’ve found pleasure in my otherness, a celebration for being simply me.
Life is an endless rollercoaster until you die. There are times where you want to puke. There are times where you’re screaming, crying, and laughing. But overall, it’s a bloody good time.
And right now, I’m straight up having a good time 🌞
Here’s to another year of absolute chaos, adventure, crying in airports, and endless, life-changing love.