We eat all day. I start with a big breakfast as I know we’ll be driving about, and I travel better on full stomach. After visits to various people, suddenly it’s time for lunch–a large bowl of noodles and vegetables in broth prepared at home by Mikio and Akemi. Absolutely yummy and so filling. In Low German the saying goes: My teeth are swimming. Continue reading
As is custom in Japan, Akemi slides the entrance door open and calls out kon nichi wa. Mikio, Saki and I have stopped to meet Akemi’s father, Adachi Jikai (osho-san) , who is the priest at Tokujyo a smaller temple within the Toyokawa Inari and Toyokawa Station neighbourhood. As we enter and remove our shoes, her father rises from behind the table where he has been at work in a small tatami room and comes to greet us. Continue reading
Walking toward Thunderbird Square outside City Hall the other evening, a few meters ahead I notice a man examining the sole of his shoe. Dog doo? I wonder. A woman waits beside him on a bicycle. As I come alongside them and am about to say hello (as is my habit when I meet oncoming strangers during my walks) the woman says, “Sorry, ma’am.” Continue reading
Today a brisk wind all day until mid-afternoon. Steady at 30 kilometers per hour with gusts to 40. Very fresh air before what they say will be another heat wave. I’m glad. Bring it on. Continue reading
How much can happen in almost two months between posts? Lots. A post-leak & restoration project in my condo segued into eye surgery for cataracts and a complete reversal of life as I have known it since Grade 2. Myopic all my life I now can see distances without difficulty. But dice a carrot? Whoa! Continue reading
The Harada family (who were my host family some years ago) and I clamber into the van of their friend and chauffeur for the day, Kanago-san. With the GPS chattering and auto-TV going simultaneously, we head out of Toyohashi toward the hills behind Toyota city. Continue reading
A special kind of agony in travelling to Japan—especially if one has numerous friends—is ritual gift-giving. The need to bring a souvenir omiyage is problematic for non-Japanese (NJ) on several levels. Continue reading
Voices call out: O hisashiburi (a greeting acknowledging a long time of separation) as people pad across the tatami in the narrow room. They welcome me with bows, gifts and Canadian-style hugs, as our connection goes back almost 20 years.
Then they take their places by rank at the long table laid out along one side of the room of the Umizuki inn. Continue reading
Coming into Toyohashi Station without a pack of nervous teenagers dragging their suitcases behind me feels odd. I haven’t been here since the last home stay exchange program I coordinated in 2005. Too long.
And though the building remains the same, the reception is missing. No broad smiles behind the exit turnstiles, no waving arms or bows. No bus waiting to jam us in and cart us off. No speeches or formalities to begin home and school life in Japan. Continue reading
I’m off to Toyohashi. As this is my first unaccompanied trip by Shinkansen (bullet train), I’m early. Just to make sure. My anxiety is rising. Departures are displayed in Japanese and English overhead, but the Kodama 647 isn’t up yet.
If I am wrong, I have allowed more than enough time to fix a false turn. Unfortunately, this morning that’s also more than enough time to obsess compulsively over a station clock. I can’t see one anywhere.
Yamakawa-san’s voice nags in my mind: How will you catch the right train? The last time I was in Tokyo Station I got lost, and I’m Japanese. Continue reading
