8月11日 (水) 6:30pm JST
I was so bored during school today. It was like I found a new state between awake, asleep, alive, and a-dyin’. Boredom swept over me like a cliché on a hack writer.
So, so bored.
And things went even slower after lunch. Normally, the time from 1 to 4 moves at a nice clip, but today it moved so slow that one suspected that time froze when one wasn’t paying attention. At one point, I snuck into another room to put my feet up— verbotten activity in Japan.
Yamauchi was one of the only teachers to come in, and she was still off someplace with the “soft tennis” club. Eventually, there were only two other workers in the whole office space.
After work though, I had to rush to pack, eat, get tickets and money, and otherwise prepare for this train ride to Ôsaka at 5:25. Time was short, but so far all I seem to have forgotten is my omiyage saké for the former host family.
8月12日 (木) 6:50pm JST
Surprisingly, we left late the night I arrived and drove all through the night from Ôsaka to Shikoku, instead of waiting for morning. Being back in their house and neighborhood caused me much 思い出すing.
8月15日 (土\日) 4:00am JST
I’ve decided I like the phrase “rub elbows.” Another late night trip finds me in Ôsaka again. “Hit the hay” is also not bad.
8月16日 (月) 12:40pm JST
A lot (though by no means all) of my favorite books have been travel literature: Henry Reed’s Journey, The Royal Road to Romance, Prince Caspian, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, Oku no Hosomichi, and on and on. I think what’s interesting about the genre is the sense of purpose and direction that travel gives to a narrative. There’s a goal, some struggle, and finally arrival. One mystery of the genre is how people manage to write legibly on bumpy train seats…
So, this weekend was a lot of fun. I wasn’t sure if anyone was going to meet me at Ôsaka station, so I wasted a little time there finding a phone and calling. Taking the Gakkentoshi line was fairly なつかしい. I walked down the street to the house, and the dogs didn’t bark.
「ただいま」 and there I was.
After a few drinks, we drove all night to Tokushima-ken in Shikoku. It was almost like being a kid again, driving to and from Pennsylvania, arriving late at night. Once there, we un-vacuum-packed some futons in the mountain house. The moth ball stench was so strong that it kept me from sleeping well the first night. We finally settled in at like 6am, then slept past noon. The next day, we lazed around for a while before cleaning Okâsan’s family grave for O-bon. Sadly, I bowed to the pagan spirits of her ancestors in order to keep from seeming rude. After that we went to the onsen.
Now, onsens with Otôsan are fun enough, but did I mention that the family’s other two host kids, E (my predecessor) and D (my successor), were there as well? We got on pretty well. I did end up using D as a crutch for translation. It’s funny how we all had different sorts of personality niches. E was the rebel, D was more the diligent type, I was the goofball, and we all joked around and had a good time. At any rate, we soon became the kind of close that only comes of bathing together.
The next day, we saw an O-bon matsuri parade in which troop after troop of dancers came by in their funny bent Japanese sombreros chanting, “yattosah, yattosah!” as the drums pounded out a steady beat for two and half hours. Since O-bon is a religious occasion, it was of course sponsored by all the usual dignitaries of the faith— Asahi beet, Nepia tissues, Afflack insurance, etc.
The festival was pretty fun, but mostly what we did in Shikoku was sit around, relax, drink, chat, and joke. We played Mahjong one night. It was just like playing cards with rules mixed together from gin and spades and poker and cards replaced by dominoes covered in kanji. All of which made it feel more like family trip that it was.
On our last day, we rocked some karaoké before eating dinner with the Shikoku cousins. Karaoké was fun, and I did my usual falsetto exertions. Songs I need to add to my regular set list include those by Meiko Kaji and Kiyoshi. In the end when time was running out, K skipped her song in order to hear my version of “Stayin’ Alive.” That was pretty cool. I still don’t know if I’m actually good at karaoké or if people just find it amusing. (This is similar to my situation with dance.)
The cousins were reasonably amusing. Besides getting K to drink, they were kind of at loss. They were definitely way more country bumpkin then the host family, having even worse teeth, sun drenched skin, and little (Japanese) fashion sense. Okâsan supplied most of the conversation for everyone and talked it about the kids and their English and their food and on and on. I ate three ume-boshi to everyone’s enjoyment.
Through the night, we drove past the whirlpools of the inland sea, but as before, it was too dark to see them. The next day, I literally never left the house, but the host nieces came over, and we all had seafood pizza. All together, it was very relaxing with much talk to Okâsan and K, E and D, even Otôsan and his brother’s family (the nieces). Very cool. I told them I could back during a long weekend in October.
Now, I’m just north of Lake Biwa and barreling back towards ‘home’ in Takaoka. I got to ride the Keihan line on my way back, which is always a plus. Now, I have another ¥500 worth of K-card for future use. 「京阪のる人、おけいはん」やろう？ And so after just a little more struggle, arrival, and with it at least temporary narrative closure.
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