flashback... japan... I am in your arms

Flashback to Japan, the crowded trains, the bright lights, the rain and snow seeping into my socks, the view from far above the city… I wait for something, I can feel myself waiting for something…. but lets start from the beginning.

The first thing I noticed about Japan was that all the hand rails had brail. I found myself thinking, “Japan is so clever” and then knowing that most of my time there would be spent with this same phrase running through my head. On some level Japan made me very nervous. There were so many rules to follow, so many unknowns. But by the time I met my host family and Stephanie and I were safely seated in the back of their Honda headed out of Kyoto, I somehow gained a sense of comfort. Everything leading up to that moment though, was rather stressful. Making sure our clothes were clean, memorizing our Japanese greetings, wrapping our home stay gifts, and wondering what exactly the months ahead would hold for us, made the hours leading up to our meetings very nerve racking. The ride to Osaka was very pleasant. Our host mother (Okason) and our host father (Otasan) were just thrilled to have us and explained all about their family and all the other foreign students they had hosted in the past. Although they both claimed that they did not speak English, Okasan knew more than she let on and our conversations went well, especially when the element of charades was added in. When we arrived at their home in a suburb of Osaka called Suita, we found that our new family were small business owners and that their home was cozy and well kept with an entire top floor for me and Steph to share. Otason was a shoji screen door builder and his shop was the front bottom part of their home. Okasan worked at the post office and spent much of her time knitting beautiful sweaters and scarves. Since we arrived on a weekend we had plenty of time to get acquainted with the family and the area before we started our days of commuting the two hours to school in Kyoto. Most other students had been put up in Kyoto, so although we were much further away we also got to see more of the area.
Okasan was a great cook so Steph and I ate really well. We had green tea with every meal and although we ate at home most days we would sometimes go out for udon noodles. Our first udon experience was at the park that was built for the World Expo of 1970. Our host family took us here because there was a large history and pottery museum that would give us some background on where we were. This was very helpful but more helpful than our history lesson, was the contemporary lesson on vending machines that was to follow. Okasan asked us if we wanted coffee and Steph and I both beamed at the possibility. However, we found ourselves at a vending machine and as Okasan is pumping yen into the thing, both Steph and I realize that we may be getting cold, nasty, instant coffee and as we prepare ourselves for this, Okason hands Stephanie a warm can of coffee. Stephanie is thrilled and holds the thing up to her face for warmth, which gives Otasan and Okasan a hoot! Soon we are all having our warm delicious coffees while walking amidst the beautiful trunks of cherry blossoms, tea fields and bamboo walkways. As the outing comes to a close we decide it is lunchtime and I get my first real udon soup. The noodles are very thick and there is something like sweet tofu on the top and I eat it right up. Okasan is very happy we like udon. How could we not… Japan is so clever!

School soon starts and Stephanie and I somehow navigate the trains and buses and end up at the right place. The weekdays find us on morning commuting trains and jammed evening trains. We eat at Kombini’s (convenience stores) because they have everything from sushi, to cream puffs, to coffee. Sometimes A few of us would go to this tiny coffee place owned by a few hippies and we would sit and drink coffee and eat friend noodles or curry.

The weekends were relatively ours and we spent some of this time with our host families but some on our own. One weekend I decide to have a bike day. I had compiled a list of great shops in Osaka and so I took the train into downtown with little direction and tried to find my way by instinct. This was harder than I first imagined and so I found the subway and got myself to the bay area right above Sakai. I had a map, but all the directions for getting to bike shops were in Japanese, so I was purely looking at numbers and not names. Eventually I find what I think is the right street to locate the particularly neat bike shop I am in search of. I don’t think that I appeared lost but I was pretty absorbed in taking photos of the some 10 bike shops I came across on my way to the Uemura cycle shop. At some point a young man stops me and asks if I am doing a study or something. I say no, that I just really like bikes and that I am a bit lost and so we walk and talk as he gives me directions. He was originally from India but moved here to go to school and then he met his wife and just never left. As he sends me on my way he warns be that if I don’t watch out the same thing could happen to me and I might just end up staying in Japan forever. I think that there could be worse things. When I do arrive at Uemura, it was well worth the hassle because it is perhaps the Spoke and Sprocket of Osaka. The place is jam packed with bicycles and very busy. There are so many colorful bikes jutting out of here and there that I worry I am going to knock something over. The shop is run by a family and I spend maybe 3 hours looking and talking. I am caught staring at a beautiful pink Nakagawa frame and the owner just laughs at me. It is too big and too expensive… but hey… a girl can dream.

Soon enough my host family learns of my bicycle obsession and so our host sister Yukari tells me about a cycling convention happening in a few days. She says that she will even take Stephanie and I if we want to go. Stephanie is perhaps not as thrilled about the idea but she says sure. The convention turns out to be a huge event and Stephanie and I spend a few hours riding bikes and talking with people and taking a lot of pictures. Stephanie has a trek at home so we got a few pictures of her in front of a large crotch shot of Lance Armstrong. I locate the Nakagawa booth and spend another bit of time admiring the work. At first the reps do not take me to seriously, but I really wanted to know what the going rate for the frame was so I mull around and whip out a business card when the timing seemed right. Suddenly I am taken very seriously and I talk with a rep as Stephanie rides a strange clown fold-up bike in the distance. Soon enough I am shaking Mr. Nakagawa’s hand and they are giving me gifts and introducing me to other Japanese builders. There is still a lot more to see though so as I am trying to walk away a young man comes up to me and asks “Nakagawa told me you own a bike shop!” I say that yes my family owns a shop in America. He than proceeds to tell me he is a pro Kieran racer and goes on to impress Stephanie and I with his race stats and his earnings and finally asks if I would like to see him race and have dinner with him. I say that I would love to see a race but that I cannot have dinner, I don’t have a phone! He seems to take this graciously but still writes down his contact info and race times. (in the end he emails my dad and their brief correspondence seems to satisfy him) All in all the day was fantastic and Steph and I got some exercise and some swag.

At some point school really starts to become busy. My computer breaks one evening and the rest of our school days seem hectic and busy without my little apple helping me out. I am at school almost everyday using the worst computers and internet that I have ever used and my faith in Japanese technology becomes something to laugh at. We are taking two classes, a Japanese history class and a Buddhism course. I spend my days writing about strange religious phenomena, Japanese wars, Mongolian, Japanese and Chinese architecture, Shinto and politics. I am learning a lot but also missing out on the world around me a bit. To fix this, Okasan takes it upon herself to take us to do important Japanese things like a tea ceremony, a visit to the Asahi beer factory, recommendations of temples and parks we must see and a visit to a foot onsen (soaking pools). These visits combined with school field trips end up bringing about some of my favorite Japanese memories.

October 27th 2008
Japan makes one very aware. No matter what you plan to do, you must always know what time it is. Japan is prompt, if you are late you are out of luck, the big temple doors will close while the attendant just looks at you. In order to say hello for example, you must be aware of the time. There is no “hello” in Japan. There is “good morning”, “good afternoon”, “good evening”, and “goodnight”. These greetings have distinct start times that must be followed. “Thank you” is similar; you must know your place in order to say thanks. Is this my elder? Is this my peer? Am I thanking them in advance or for something they have done or for something they are presently doing? Whatever the case, you become very aware…. and you always bow. in fact, when in doubt… bow.

October 30th 2008
At night Stephanie and I have Suntory times; whiskey and coke while we work on papers and read for the coming days. I get distracted and find myself looking at pictures of home, of the past, of people I know, who know me, of my life that sits somewhere else right now. It is November and things everywhere are changing. America will soon have a new president, the leaves change to deep reds, the Asahi Ginger Draft beer is disappearing off of shelves, I will soon be on my own, alone in Kyoto … a sound I like.

November 7th 2008
Today I woke up to rain on the rooftop. I traveled downstairs for coffee and toast, yogurt, oranges, and a bit of sushi. I composed my sentences for a paper of which my interest waned and then dissipated. I cleaned my little Japanese bedroom, careful to open the screens, make the bed and organize all my books in a row on the desk. I put on a hat, we left the house as we chirped our “ittekimasu!” (I’m leaving!) to walk to Suita Station on our way to school. It is like Washington now, with its cold mornings that bite the lungs and its fall evening so good for walking.

November 9th 2008
Its November and it starts to get gold in Japan. Okason brings us warm blankets and a heater. I go to task writing a paper. I mend clothes and organize for the coming days. Today Todd and I ventured south to have a day of art and temples. This is nice after a day spent fighting with computers, paper writing, and all the other things that make homework seem impossible. We ended in Uji- a city split by a river. It began to get dark so I set my film speed higher and we stand really still for pictures. We visit art I never thought I would see with my own eyes and temples I did not know existed. We arrive a little bit after closing to the great Phoenix Hall and so we are left to just peer into the closing gates. Instead I buy Gen Maicha green tea which is famous in Uji and call the trip a success. Later that evening I arrive home to find an after dinner snack waiting. It is much like high school… homework, new friendships, public transportation, arriving home to the smell of dinner and a family of faces ready to hear what you have filled your days with and what new things you have discovered.

November 10th 2008
Today I walk down thick streets streaming with people. It is nighttime now, evening followed me like the cool weather that is reaching Kyoto now. I do now know these busy streets but I take them in, I get to know them. I listen to MEW as it starts to rain. Each drop falling gently on my jacket, my hat, my nose and lips. I travel towards the station having gotten off of the bus early. The streets are crowded but the bus was unbearable so I opt to use my feet and memory to lead me to the station. I follow the sight of the tower and the rhythm of Japan’s commuting hour. Earlier in the day we saw old time Kyoto. We followed the same sightseeing route the Dutch followed when they visited in the 18th century. We visit the hall of one thousand Buddha’s, the ear mound, a few temples and a shrine to cure hemorrhoids. This trip is nostalgic but highlights the way things have changed. I do not mind the industry and modernization that has entered these things. It is enjoyable to see co-existence.

November 11th 2008
In the end, it is Obama that really makes me miss America (not Obama, Japan… the Barack kind). I expedited all of our ballots with cash money my parents mailed to me. The Election Day is about a week later on a pleasant, quiet Wednesday like any other in Japan. In the early part of the day I was actually much more concerned with finishing my paper, but after the two hour commute to find that the school, the library and therefore my only computer access was off limits… I was somehow free to forget about that terrible dilemma and enjoy the election festivities. A small group of us gathered at Marlene’s host families house and settled in to watch the coverage… half in Japanese and half in English. It was early afternoon and I had a skype date. I could hear the commotion downstairs as I chatted away and checked the online poles. Finally however, the news came through and I broke away to go downstairs and listen to the speeches. The TV coverage was all in Japanese and so we found Obama online and crowded around to listen. Somehow the picture was lost and we were left staring at a black screen with only a booming voice flowing out of it. At one point Obama says something about all of the huddled masses in the distant corners of the world listening in… and that was us! We got a shout out! After we listened to the speech twice and also McCain’s gracious concession speech we decide it was celebration time! The small group of us grabbed some yen and headed to the Kombini to buy some Chu Hi (the Asian version of Zima) and some ginger draft beer. We followed the river bank by Marlene’s home and ended on a little set of stairs to sit and cheers. After we had all clinked our tin cans and realized we were all suddenly filled with pride, we began a quiet, out of key rendition of the star spangled banner. It just seemed right to be there in the sun, on just another Japanese Wednesday, on the banks of the river, sipping our celebratory drinks and watching all the dog walkers around us that could care so little about our victory. That night back in Osaka Stephanie and I tell Otasan and Okasan about the day and Okasan smiles and says “Yes we can!” and everything felt right.

As our time in Osaka neared its end, Stephanie and I began to plan our week off. Okasan seemed particularly invested in getting a word in about where we should go, so in the end, our trip plans mirror her ideal vacation. We spend our last morning in Osaka with Okasan having coffee and sweet bread and apples cut to look like bunnies. We pack our things and head for the coast.