The themes for today are: Yoko wa ichi ban ni desu yo ('Yoko is totally the best') AND Dirty Peruvians on The Beach.
I honestly didn't really want to leave my flat. I had holed up here on Thursday night and hadn't really moved since then, other than one ill chosen trip to the grocery store and three walks around the block at a time well past dark when I didn't have to put any real clothes on and it was cooler. But I decided that it might be time to ease my way back into civilization from the monastic life of my flat that I had created for myself seeing that I was going to have to return to work on Wednesday. And by monastic I mean lots of tofu and tonnes of illegal downloading. I have a thing for Jon Stewart. I even watched Oprah because he was on her show for like 20 minutes. Yoko had called me on Saturday, I think it was, saying that she had just quit her nasty Chinese restaurant job and had a few days off until she had to work on Thursday and was wondering if I would like to go do something. There was one suggestion that I can't remember but didn't sound too keen on. Then there was the suggestion of Yokosuka (yo-KO-ska) which she described as an "American town" but that it was near the ocean. That really was the clincher word – OCEAN. That's all I needed, as much as I was deterred by the notion of an "American town" in Japan, that beautiful, vast, most majestic word, OCEAN, trumps the scary description. So we made a date to meet at Nishi-Funabashi on Platform 12 at 10 AM on Tuesday, that's today. Good plan.
We met on schedule, went to the kiosk and got new day passes for the JR Train (longer distances than the local lines) and caught one train out. Then we had to transfer. Then we were on a slow train. Then we got to Kamakura (the place with the giant Buddha – Daibutsu) and the train stopped. Evidently there had been a 7.2 earthquake while we were on the train and the lines were all shut down now for who knows how many hours. It was more like a 6 where we were. Last time they didn't get going for like 4 hours. I was trying not to be too much of a downer and to roll with the circumstances, but I was terribly upset by the whole thing because I didn't even get to feel the earthquake! Soooo not fair! And it was supposedly a big one. I'm pouting. My bottom lip has completely overwhelmed my upper lip and my eyes are as big as Bambi's (not that I want any connection to a Disney creation...anti-thesis of my being) and they are starting to well up. It's not fair! (Oh, Lisa, when will you ever learn to STOP LIVING IN MY BRAIN!!!!!?) At least we got stuck at Kamakura which is a totally cool place, despite being the place where I was called "Princess" last time. I still can't believe I allowed that boy to continue life without the assistance of a breathing tube. I'm far too kind.
So we set out from the station, hoping that our day passes would work the way they were supposed to with unlimited stops between the two points that we stated as the furthest we would go. The guy who sold us the tickets was a little rude and we weren't sure if he was actually listening to Yoko. We headed down the more famous, touristy street near the station to go take a look at some fun little shops. The area is just fun and although I've been there two other times, we still managed to go into completely new shops for us that we'd never noticed before. Then we found a really nice Chinese restaurant that we were worried would cost a small fortune but it turned out to be really reasonable for quite a bit of food, by Asian standards anyway. I had a new musak experience (if you haven't been following along, there have be several previous experiences). We got to listen to Hawaiian music in a Chinese restaurant in Japan. That was a good time. With our bellies full and my on-hand supply of cash dwindling we decided to make our way back to the station to see if we could catch something...preferable a train and not hepatitis. Our passes worked again, Yeah, and we set down on the platform to wait. A schedule would have been nice, but the postings were still stuck from the earthquake so at ten to two we were evidently waiting for the 11:50 train for Tokyo. Um, yeah, not so much. So we waited. And waited. And waited in silence as we had both hit our food comas (that was one of the new vocabulary words of the day for Yoko, 'food coma'). Then we fell asleep. Then we woke up. Then we waited some more. Finally at just after three (for those not keeping track or mathematically challenged, we had arrived around 3 hours previous) we were able to catch a train heading south. It went one stop. Then we waited some more. To make a long afternoon a little shorter, we eventually arrived at Yokosuka which turned out to be, as I had suspected on Monday night after talking with Yoko about a little more, the Navy docks where one of the main US bases in the area is located. It was like being home in Esquimalt, only there were way more little Japanese people around. We walked through a very western civilization looking garden, a rather delightful English rose garden really. We enjoyed the view of the water and the taste of salt then we decided it was time to hit the "American town" and go look for dirty sailors with bad tattoos. On our way out of the garden I had to take a moment and be One with the grass. I fondled it, and spoke to it softly and gently, we had a moment. It brought Yoko much delight to watch.
We headed off to find a street that is like the US "strip" of the town. It wasn't far from the park and it was easy to spot at one block back from the main drag. It's a narrow street lined with really random little shops full of camo gear (often far to "trendy" for my taste, camo doesn't normally come in size 0 that you have to pour yourself into) and really sketchy looking bars. A lot of it was closed up for day time, but the bit that we did see was rather, interesting. I'm all for random, sketchy parts of town, but this was really on the border for me. I was glad that it was daytime, even at that there was one guy who made me edgy by totally staring me down. Yes, I think I have actually found a place in the world that I will not return to. I bet it gets crazy at nights, it was cool to walk down it during the day and imagine, just imagine.
We arrived back at the station only to discover that the trains weren't running in the direction we wanted them to, which was more south, as there had been an "accident". So there was a 6.0 earthquake that shut the lines down for several hours in the early afternoon, at which point some poor deluded person decided that it would be the most opportune time to throw (or attempt to throw) themselves at an object moving at a rather quick velocity. That's usually what an "Accident" means. Either that or some yahoo tried to run the train crossing in a car and got stuck on the track or something. So it meant that we could only go north. We decided that we would stop at Zushi, the station where we were shortly stuck after being in Kamakura for all that time, and see if we could find more ocean. In Yoko's guide book it looked like there might even be some beach. So we set off again and arrived at the Zushi platform, which was probably about as far the train was going at that time until more tracks were cleared after the "Accident".
We were really sure of where we were going but we decided to head out on the road and head West. We followed a bunch of small streets and were making some progress when I mentioned that we should probably turn left as there was a hill in front of us and a hill behind us and it seemed to make sense that access to the ocean would be best between those two hills, as opposed to at the bottom of the hill where it would be rocky. So we ventured into the wilderness that is small, compact, Japanese suburbia of really nice beach houses. The roads are really narrow and totally NOT straight. We finally came to an underpass that seemed to end in sand! Ata, we found it. We came out on the other side to the most beautiful view of soft, dark, sandy beach and a calm, large bay. It was beautiful. We were terribly excited. Then we noticed along the edges of the beach were all these shanty type bars and cafes with music tumbling out of them and tiki torches lighting the way. I'm sorry. Where am I? I felt like I was in a mix of Jamaica, Mexico and Southern France. It was so odd and completely endearing. As we walked I felt more and more like myself again.
We walked down the beach a little way, stuck our feet in the sand, took a few shots and then decided that we had been on our feet far too long and took up residence on a little patch of sand in front of a Mexican cantina type place. Music was coming from all directions, the water was calm and the sun was starting to set. That was it. I decided that we were never leaving that spot ever again, unless it rained and then Yoko would leave, or I had to pee. Those two events were about the only things that would move us. The sky looked like it was going to open up and dump. I was excited. Yoko was scared. From there, we seriously just didn't move. Yoko had made some food for us to snack on and we decided that it would be the best dinner available. Otherwise we would have had to leave our new home. We sat there for a really long time. Like a really long time. We people watched, we chatted a little, but mostly we just sat there in silence, enjoying the night. And then the inevitable happened. I had to pee. We broke camp and started back down the beach. There were two old guys that we had been watching for some time trying, pathetically and with no luck, to pick up skinny little Japanese chicas (as if there are any other kind) and as we passed them I said "Hola, que tal?" and that started up a quick convo in Spanish and Japanese of where the toilets were located, that being much closer than what we had thought. Having taken care of business, we returned to our beloved home to enjoy the night and the silence. But it was not to be. I had broken the golden rule of avoiding dirty men, don't talk to them first. Oops. Oh well. So the convo started up again, drinks (as pathetic as they were...Chu-hi of all things, think really wussy cider) were offered and denied but Ricardo was here to stay. We joined camps and met his friend Christian. They're originally from Peru. Christian came to Japan intending to stay for 2 years, he's been here 12. I never did hear Ricardo's story. The multi-lingual conversation was terribly interesting and often rather confusing. They would talk to me in Spanish, to Yoko in Japanese and Yoko and I would talk to each other in English, and as group conversations go, there was a mix of everything in between. "Doko, ah. De donde tu vienes? Brazil?" "Ah, no, janai (Japanese for 'no it's wrong') Canada" "Canadiense? No. Verdad? (Spanish 'Really')" "Hai, no wait, Si!" I kept answering them in Japanese and every now and again in the middle of the sentence to make sure I was following in Spanish Christian would ask "Wakaru" (Japanese 'Do you understand?') with Spanish on either side of it. A couple times it happened that I didn't know what he was talking about so he would ask Yoko in Japanese and she would tell me what it meant in English. Or they were telling her something and between their odd accents (most Japanese are no good at understanding their own language with foreign accents) and the slurred speech (they had quite evidently had a few drinks before meeting us) she didn't understand what they were saying so they would explain in Spanish to me and I would tell her in English. Good times. And then we noticed that the music had died from the local establishments, and so the dirty old Peruvians (my new name for them) had to make up for it by putting on some music and then wanted to teach us to merengue. I already knew, which delighted them both to know end and they kept saying that they didn't believe that I was from Canada. Yoko had never danced like that before and was having some difficulty figuring out how to move her hips and feet and walk at the same time. It was fabulous. So we danced we with, well it really was only one dirty Peruvian as Christian was older and more gentlemanly, and I think he figured out pretty quick that I could have dropped him in an instant (I was taller than both of them...and sober...and feisty!), so we danced with one dirty Peruvian and one not so dirty old Peruvian on the beach in Mexico...I mean Jamaica...I mean Brazil...I mean Japan???
It was really dark, Ricardo's hands were starting to wander more (not on me, he didn't try twice!!) and I then realized that it was 9 and we still had quite a trek to get home. So we left our new friends on the beach and tried to make our way back to the station through all those little streets. We had a really good laugh on the train, mostly because by now I looked like my usual dirty hippie self and I was leaving a trail of sand everywhere I went, much to my delight. We did some "Vocabulary of the Day" review in English and Spanish (and like 2 words in Japanese that I've now already forgotten, I'm not meant to speak this language, much like German) and then had to part ways. We will return to Zushi. Soon.
So that was my most fabulous day. I have had a couple of really good days here, but I think this day takes the cake, or at least has to share most of the cake with a couple of other days, like the child you secretly harbour more love for but who still has to share the presents with its just slightly above average siblings just so they continue life without realizing that they are only just slightly above average and aren't as loved quite as much as the other one. I'm feeling more like myself again, as I'm sure is apparent in my writing, and I'm feeling like I'm ready for...An Adventure!!! (Yes, the super hero music has returned in the background and may just be a bit louder than before as it is trying to make up for lost time). Yoko is my hero for getting me out of the house, as much as I like my flat, it was time to have a shower and put some real and some clean clothes on.
I would first and foremost like to thank God. My parents for always supporting me. I want to thank Christian and Ricardo for reminding me to Merengue and all will be better. I want to say a special thank you to the rude guy at the ticket booth for making our cheap travel possible. To everyone at JR for working hard to make this trip a go. Oh, and how can I forget Mother Earth for working her brilliant timing to put us where we needed to be. And, and, oh, don't you start playing that music on me, I'll just keep talking over it. And to my husband who always believed in me, and to Danny in editing who does wonders with an airbrush. And, and. Oh, and to my fans, I love you, this ones for you. Thank you all.
Did I mention I'm feeling better?
