When I arrived in Kobe, the first thing I did was kiss the ground. Quite literally. You see, Japanese cities are very busy places - something like 80% of the 280 million people in this country lives in them. I am from Ikuno town, population 5000. I`m about one hour from the nearest shopping area. In my town, there is one bar, one supermarket, many old people and not much else. In the country, life operates at a much slower pace - the maximum speed limit on the roads is only 60 Km/hour. I was evidently still in my countryside frame of mind as I was disembarking the bus: carefully placing my feet as I made my way down the steps. This apparently upset the little old lady behind me who gently gave me a shove off the bus. This is how I came to land in Kobe: on my hands and knees with my face on the ground.
Our mission was simple really. Living Inaka (in the countryside)has made us hungry for signs of modern civilization. Don`t get me wrong, I love the country - it is quiet and peaceful and has stunning scenery. I can drive my little car everywhere and not have to worry about bus schedules and the like. I take flower arranging on Tuesdays with a group of little old ladies. On Wednesdays I have pottery classes with little old men and then I take Taiko drumming lessons with some of the younger parents of the students I teach. It was either that or take Kendo lessons with the only people at my skill level - the 6 year-olds. So a friend of mine who teaches in another town ( Sara)and I decided to check out Kobe - the "most international" city in Japan. We wanted all of the Wonderful North American Things we had left behind. Like Starbucks, which was our first stop. We had about an hour to kill before meeting our hosts, an American family Sara had managed to adopt on her first trip into Kobe.
So we headed to The Gap. You see, the largest sized clothes we had managed to find previously were of the size 4-6 variety, and after eating so much rice I am afraid I am far from being that petite. We were certain that The Gap could service our needs. Now, this part is for the benefit of my mother who will undoubtedly read this and wonder why I am blowing my paycheck on more clothes.
The answer is this: it is really, really cold here!!! The work clothes I brought with me were mostly blouses and khakis. I neglected to take seriously the warnings of my predecessor that it gets very cold here. The nights and mornings are about 5 degrees celsius. On a cloudy day, it doesn`t get much warmer, but on a sunny day, the temperature can shoot up to about 25. The problem is that there is no internal heating. At my apartment, I have a table with a heating lamp under it, an electric blanket, two electric space heaters and a kerosene heater. At school, there is no heat. They think it is good for everyone to suffer in silence until they pull out the huge kerosene heaters sometime at the end of December. I have not e-mailed you all because I have not been able to feel my fingers. So, I needed more sweaters. I mean, I needed a lot more!!! They don`t have clothes dryers here so everything has to hang dry, which is fine if you can open a window to let a breeze through, or if the relative humidity isn`t already about 99%. Needless to say, it takes about three days for things to dry. So mom, like I said, I needed more clothes!!!
The foreign community in Kobe is quite tight knit, and centres around a few areas: Rokko Island, Port Island, and Kitano. Our first stop was Rokko Island, where we were to try and catch the tail end of the Terry Fox Run, and go shopping at the Foreign Buyers Club, home of Jelly Bellies and real cereal. We missed the Terry Fox Run, but made it in time for lunch: a wonderful Indian curry with lamb and real chai tea and naan!!! The proprietor was even an East Indian man!!!! (Diversity - gasp! I miss seeing a rainbow of different people and hearing different accents and languages!!!). Then it was off to the bazaar at the posh, international Kobe Club in Kitano, the area where the original foreign community lived. The bazaar was in support of world peace, so there were many nationalities represented: I had a great chat with a Canadian group and we spent a long time talking to the American Vice-Consul about the recent terrorist events and how these are affecting the expatriate community. We discovered a little Japanese booth where I saw the loveliest formal kimono - very autumnal. I asked how much it was and the next thing I knew the woman was tying it on me. So there I was wearing my running shoes and a formal kimono and having everyone snap my photo. I walked away with the full outfit for about 20 bucks. VERY good deal!!! Our American hostess (we were staying with an American family - Mary and Neil Schlintz)insisted that I wear the kimono home to show her husband, and I didn`t think much of it until we were ushered into a ballroom that was turned into a disco, and we were pushed out onto the dance floor. We were told we had to dance, so we did. Out came the cameras: look at the crazy foreigners and the one wearing Asics running shoes with a formal kimono. The next thing I knew there were actual, professional camera people there: we were apparently being filmed for some video or the news or something.
Great. I am on record as being one of the most culturally insensitive people around: boogying in a kimono and runners. It was a small help that the man who ran the posh club was dressed as a clown.
Back at the Schlintz` we ate Little Caesars pizza (I had "the German": potato salad and sausages!!!) and admired the western architecture. Their house was meant to be set up just like an American home, replete with 10 foot high ceilings and doors which extended all the way to meet them, and a staircase with steps that were so high I thought I was climbing Everest. I could hear the architects in my head: "hmmmm. Those Americans sure are BIG people...hmmm."
In any case, it was nice to walk on real carpet and sit at a real table on real chairs and sleep in a real bed and feel central heating again. And the Schlintz` are wonderful people - they miss their kids (who are around our age) a lot so they have adopted us while we are here. They were amazingly welcoming and very parental to us, and their house has an amazing view of the huge Pearl Bridge (like the Lion`s Gate, but much, much longer) and ocean so it reminds me a lot of Vancouver. So when Mary asked us to help with Sunday School at her church, we were glad to jump in. Only problem is that I don`t go to church - never really have, and had no idea what she was talking about. I ganbarre`d through it (persevered). After church, we had a little time to spend before our bus came. Guess what us two country girls in the city decide to do? Go shopping!!!!! And boy did we ever - we went back to The Gap and to the foreign foods grocery store, we went to Subway to get our turkey sandwiches, and finally ended up back at Starbucks, where we chatted with a foreign guy who was there and reflected on our journey. We caught our bus just in time (we were a sight, running 5 blocks with backpacks, purses, and four or five huge shopping bags apeice). As the bus pulled away from Sannomiya station and the ocean, and headed back through the mountains to our little inaka villages, I realized that I am very glad to be in my town. The hustle and bustle of the city is nice, and it is a great vacation to meet other foreigners and eat familiar foods, but it is even nicer to see the approving look on the face of the little old man who runs our pottery class when I manage to edge my flower vase properly. It is much nicer to have the little obasans (old ladies) greet me every morning as they sweep off their front steps.
And I would never trade how glorious the mountains look on a misty day: like they`ve been lifted off a Japanese ink painting and placed before my eyes. Some people say the inaka is the real Japan, the real seat of Japanese culture and tradition. And it may well be. Because it is in the country where one can easily find those who are the keepers of Japanese history: the old people. The cities are home to the new Japanese traditions: neon lights, concrete, technology, internationalization, and young people. It is a shame that they have turned their backs on their past, but it is a blessing for me: the new generation of young people who live in the country. The history and culture of Japan is being passed down to a handful of young foreigners who have come to the countryside to teach the children of Japan about the world beyond the sea.
Perhaps we are a part of the reason why the country is losing her young people, and why Japan`s traditions are more easily accessed through a book than by visiting her cities. I don`t know. I am ambivalent: part sad that the culture is being lost, part glad that I get to experience it while it is still around.