Fishing

Our school director Rumiko is one of our favorite people; not just in Japan but anywhere. She is an invaluable asset to the school and to us as missionaries and teachers. However, she is just swell and we would love her even if she didn't make our lives so much easier than they could be.

We have over 80 students here at our language school and each one is a friend of Rumiko. Beyond that she is friends with the students parents, siblings, cousins, spouses, grandparents and pets. She is a lady of strong conviction, simple faith, and unconditional acceptance. Simply put, she is what we are all supposed to be though few of us ever attain it.

She isn't friends with people so that she can trick them into Christianity. She is friends with people because she loves them. Because of this many, for Japan, have become Christians. One of the families she has befriended is a couple who owns a CD store in the local mall. The wife, Akane, takes classes with us as do their two children, Maria and Arisa. They are very busy and have very little time to invest in friends but are very hungry for friendship.

On Friday Koji, the husband of the family, rented a fishing boat and invited us to come along for some sea fishing. I'm sure this wasn't cheap and we were very grateful for the generosity and chance to have an adventure. We left port early in the morning and sailed into the bay with him, his uncle, two daughters and Rumiko. We anchored in the shadow of Mt. Sakerajima, a volcano that is constantly smoking, and dropped our lines. Mary Ellen was the first to catch a fish and we were soon pulling them in faster than I could take them off OUR lines. That's right, she would pull them in but wouldn't grab them or take the hook out or break the neck. It's all equal until it comes to killing fish. Then the man suddenly has a God-given duty to do the dirty work. Truthfully I didn't mind a bit. There's something silly about your wife wanting you to be manly that makes you feel good. Rumiko and the little girls liked Mary Ellen's idea so they started having me kill their fish too. Boy did I feel manly.

I really wanted to catch one of those deep-sea-fangly fish that have the custom lures and lights on their heads; but all I caught was about thirty-five thousand of some school fish they call blue fish. I caught so many that I got tired and was relieved the few times my line came up empty.

That evening Rumiko cooked some of the fish we caught and brought it to us for supper. We were brave and even tried some Sashimi, raw fish.

Jesus calls us fishers of men. I think Rumiko exemplifies this. She isn't looking for more notches on her rifle. She isn't looking for numbers. She simply lives a genuine life of love and unselfish interest in others and we are all drawn to a person like that. The difference though is that the fish ended up on our plate and tasted delicious by the way; but the people she has "caught" have found a freedom in knowing Jesus that you can't believe until you breath it in yourself and realize it's what you always dreamed of but never could put to words.

I learned a lot about fishing on Friday; both kinds.

Zoo Basket

Somedays are so crazy they're a bit of a blur--these last tuesdays have been those kind of days. We've gone to a local public elementary school in the morning and taught 2 or 3 of their classes. We did a short presentation on American culture and then mixed with the kids, giving out high fives, meeting open stares and answering curious questions.

After our diplomatic efforts at presenting our culture, we temporarily destroyed the peace by playing "fruit basket"--except we used animals and called it "zoo basket". It really was a bit of a zoo, but the humor in it all surpassed the noise level. The kids were sliding all over the floor, screaming--and a couple boys, obviously clowns of their class, would duel it out nearly every round for the last chair! The shorter of the two got smart and planted a kiss on the cheek of his shocked opponent--giving him a split second to steal the chair.

We had to hold back laughter during the question/answer session. One little boy took the cake. With an air of seriousness beyond his eight years he said, "I already understand that you wear your shoes inside your houses in America; but do you take them off when you go to bed?"

At the end, each of the classes presented us with a song as a "thank you" for coming. They weren't meistroes, but the effect was stunning--we felt rewarded for our hard work. And then we left them, screaming and excited, for their teachers to deal with. I'd almost feel bad, but Jeff and I had our own classes waiting for us back at the church.

Sometimes the busiest days are the most rewarding. And if they're not, you can enjoy a hard night's sleep afterwards.

Autumn

While Autumn has been slow coming here in Hayato, we find it's clear skies and golden fields a sweet reward. The views of Sakurajima, our volcano neighbor, are only getting better as the air is drying out. A new friend introduced us to a plateau named "Highest Plain". Our new friend is a janitor who has taught himself English. He enjoys practising on us and we enjoyed the gift of an afternoon picnic in the sun. Things are only getting busier here, but the friendships we find remind us that taking time for people is like stopping for air. Necessary and very relaxing.

Juice it Up

Most days I try to have my Nalgene handy, especially when classes come back to back. One of my adult students was excited to see the waterbottle. She explained that when she went to America everyone seemed to have a waterbottle! I guess this put me into familiar territory and we hit it off. She explained that Japanese children always carry juice to classes, not water. If it's not juice it's tea. And if you're an adult, maybe it's coffee.

Jeff and I went for a walk yesterday. About a seven minute walk to the local mall. True to form we were greeted at every opportunity with a vending machine. The first one, steps from our front door, hosted Caplis products. Perhaps we would be thirsty a minute later, or remember a friend who would appreciate a delicious drink--just in case, there was a Nescafe awating our every need! The third vending machine was sitting haphazardly at the back corner of the grocery store, looking as if it had just been unloaded off a truck. If you peeked into the warehouse you could see another machine in close competition. The fourth assailed us while we waited to cross the road. It not only offered a drink, but a smoke. Every need in supply, right;) Entering the mall we found a cluster of machines hailing us to gander at the incomprehensible labels and gamble our money on something we might or might not enjoy. The last troupe (but only because we stopped walking) was camped in the center of the mall. Not only could you choose hot or cold, the drinks would be dispensed into a foam cup if that was more desireable.

Even a few of these tempters had recycle bins nearby, making it an easy stop to quench the thirst. (Normally it is considered rude to eat or drink while you are walking, but trash cans are rare. We often choose to stow either the drink or the trash for later.)

The vending machines are kind of a fun way to spend change. Since my Kanji reading is extremely limited, I never know if I'm getting something fruity or tangy. Sometimes I choose my favorite label. Other times it just depends how much I have in my pocket. Jeff teases me when I come home with a can of something. He asks "What have you got there? Alcohol?" I answer truthfully, "I don't THINK so...", but then I smell real deep before I drink. So far so good!

Starbucks and a Stolen Bike

Last Monday morning we jumped on out rusty old bikes and squeaked and rattled our way over to the train station. We had the day off from teaching in observance of a national holiday and so we headed to Kagoshima. It is a port city of about five-hundred thousand people and it has a Starbucks. This trip was a big deal for a few reasons. The first being that though Kagoshima is only about a forty minute train ride, it costs about $30 round-trip for the two of us. Second, we have friends there who speak English. It is unexpectedly refreshing to form a sentence with no thought to the number of syllables you can use in each word. The city has a Starbucks; but I think I said that already. In the States they serve over-priced coffee drinks. In Japan they serve over-priced coffee drinks. But in Japan it felt like a little piece of home. And unlike Japanese deserts it was full of delicious sugar.

Our friends in Kagoshima, Gerry and Naphi, are teaching English in the SDA Language School and are from India. Obviously, they both speak fluent English. I learned that almost everyone in India is the same. That is one of the few good things left behind from the British colonization. People in many countries are proficient with computers. However, in India people are not only proficient with computers but also English. This is why many times when you get technical support for your computer over the phone, you will hear an Indian accent. Not only are Gerry and Naphi a ton of fun, but they make excellent Indian food. Imagine that. They made us lunch at their apartment and it felt like we were eating at an expensive Indian restaurant except for the price. Our Friend Kazuki joined us as we ended lunch and finished off the food. The poor guy was sweating. The Japanese are not known for their tolerance of spicy food. He smiled, wiped the sweat from his face and made hand gestures of fire blasting from his mouth.

As we walked down a street in Kagoshima later that day we passed a little cafe stuck between an ancient Shinto Shrine and a five hundred year-old fortress. I glanced through the window as we passed by and locked eyes with a guy who was as pasty white as me. He came walking out with a smile and introduced himself. In fairly good English he told me that he is from France and is working in the little cafe just because we wanted to. His name is (I'm not even going to try to spell it right. Here's the phonetic version.) Bernwa. Most any other place in the world we wouldn't have even noticed each other; but here, so far from either of our homes, we were instant friends.

Sumira, another of our Japanese friends, joined us that evening and we put off heading back home by wandering around the mall which is attached to the train station and eating in a restaurant that is basically the Japanese equivalent of a Perkins.

When we got back to the train station in Hayato we found that someone had stolen one of our bikes. Oh well. The weather was wonderful so I pushed my old bike along the dark streets of Hayato and enjoyed the walk with Mary Ellen.

We lost our bike but we can't lose the great day we had. Jesus said that if we are smart we will invest in things that can't be stolen: realationships with Him and people. Someone stole our bike, but no one can take the great day we had with our friends.

The person who stole our bike was in for a nice surprise, the brakes don't work very well. Hope karma didn't catch up with him too fast:)

Privacy and Intimacy

It is nearly impossible to ask someone why they do something that is ingrained in their culture. I would like to think of an example in American culture, but I am American. However, I have thought of a question I would like to ask a theoretical Japanese person.

"How is it that you are unembarassed of your body (hence no swimsuits in hot springs, open urinals in the middle of a public park...) but do not display any emotional affection in public?"

We see children of different gender changing clothes together, completely unconcerned. The view of the body is very comfortable here. Yet, they are a modest people, not counting a few teenagers. We know from our friendships that the people of Hayato are warm, family oriented people (okay, some work too much) ---but a hug is saved for the child and only on a special holiday will the mother exude such intimacy in public.

Perhaps the tables should be turned....How is it that Americans are so hung up on their bodies and equate bodily closeness with intimacy? Now which culture sounds more confused?

Now and Then Pictures

Now and Then

The most unusual thing about the sandwich shop was that it allowed carryout--a rarity around here. Otherwise, it was cozy, as a sandwich shop serving coffee should be. The owner was forgiving of our poverty and let us bring in our own cake for the celebration. And we celebrated! Most of the festivity came from the girls excitement. They seemed so pleased that someone had planned a birthday party for their mother. It was endearing to see two kids so excited at the pleasure of their parent. So a Janglish conversation filled in the cracks between rounds of hand-games and bites of food.

So goes the celebration of a Now festival. The next morning we enjoyed a bit of the Then. It wasn't a very long walk into the past, just across the road and down a bit. We'd been to the park several times to gape at the ancient rubble and wonder what the historical sign would say if it suddenly translated itself. This time the park was full to the brim. Girls in kimonos, men as Samuri and women adorned for tea ceremony filled the lawn around the monument. Everyone was there to enjoy lunch and watch for the festival parade to return up the mountain from the bay.

I can't say that the girls faces were more enchanting in the light of the birthday celebration or the sunshine of the festival, but I can say that both Then and Now grace the Japanese culture with an unsual friendship with each other.