Only in Japan

This story was too good to wait to post chronologically . . . seriously, you can’t make this stuff up!

Denis and I decided to take a walk this evening.  Hiroshima is beautiful at night, and we wanted to take advantage of the cooler temperatures.  We headed a few blocks north of our hotel where there is a sort of indoor/outdoor shopping arcade.  (They call shopping or market areas arcades . . . so while there were a few pachinko salons, don’t image ferris wheels and video games).

We cut through there and headed over to the river.  I don’t have a tripod, so I couldn’t really get any good pictures, but just try and use your imagination : )  There are all these willow trees bending toward the water and every couple of hundred meters there is a beautiful arched stone bridge illuminated with wrought iron, scrolled lamps.  A very pleasant place to walk (minus the mosquitoes and the potential Japanese encephalitis . . . oh well : )

I wanted to see the A-Bomb building at night, so we headed north for a bit further . . . We saw the skeleton of a building earlier today, but there were throngs of tourist (we being two of them) overflowing everywhere.  Durning the evening hours, there we just a couple of other people milling about.  I am glad that I got to see this symbol of peace in a more contemplative environment.

After we sat for a while, we followed the riverbank south, back in the direction of our hotel, heading toward a Starbucks that is located across street from us.  We stopped to take a few pictures (Denis was being quite annoying about it, as we both look kind of gross from being sweaty all day, but I overruled, and here we are, all shiny of face).

Again, use your imagination–think “lovely” and “underexposed picture edited to overexposed”

A few minutes after we take this picture an older man on a bicycle stops us–we had been standing still by the river looking for the jumping carp–they are nuts . . . they propel their bodies like two feet into the air . . . very cool to watch, but hard to capture on film–we were not surprised by this as the people in Hiroshima have been extremely friendly (more on that later).  Denis was standing closer to him than I was, and. after the fact, told me the guy reeked of alcohol . . . I thought he was just a little special, so I kept humoring him as he pointed to me and said “American” and then tried to talk to Denis in Japanese.  I repeatedly (and very patiently, I might at) would point to Denis and say “Chinese” or “Chinese-American.”  Denis even tried explaining in Chinese–both Mandarin and Cantonese.  We kept this charade up until I noticed that this looney was a little too close for comfort . . . the pointing had moved from my face to my chest.  In one swift movement, I stepped back and Denis stepped in front of me.  The guy is trying to tell Denis that I have big boobs . . . He was not at all aggressive (don’t worry, Mom), it was just really important to him to get this point across.  Only in Japan . . . for two reasons.  1.  I by no means would even remotely be considered big chested anywhere but Japan (and even that is a stretch) and 2.  Nowhere else but Japan are drunk guys utterly forgiven for anything they do under the influence (well, I guess that is a gross generalization in many ways, but you might get what I mean if you know a little about Japanese culture).  Anyway . . . it was pretty funny.  Denis was getting a bit pissed and curtly said good-bye and the guy smiled, jovially waved and rode off.  Freak.

We headed over to Starbucks as planned (after giving drunk-man a BIG head-start).  I was extremely pleased to see they had chocolate chip cookies today (they didn’t yesterday–that’s right, I went there yesterday, too : ) and we each got one and then shared a yummy pomegranate and peach frappachino . . . mmm.  As we sat at our table, overlooking the small Japanese garden on Peace Street, I could help but feeling happy . . . insanely happy.  Probably too happy for my own good.  I am so glad I am doing this.  Every once in a while I had my doubts.  Should I give up tenure?  Should I give up a teaching job that has allowed me so many freedoms in the books I choose?  Should I give up my amazing students who actually give me a chance (for all you Whippany monkeys out there . . . unless you become a teacher, you will never know how much we appreciate when you actually care about what we do–so when you guys come by to borrow books, or even to just let me know you read one and enjoyed it–bliss (I know–geek : )  Should I give up coaching the sports that I love so much?  Should I give up seeing my wonderful friends and beloved family?  My much anticipated apartment in the City?

The answer is yes.  I had to give up all of it to be able to experience this.  Even with all of the annoyances we have encountered so far (getting to Hiroshima kicked our butts), I wouldn’t give this time up for anything.

Who knows . . . maybe there will be a third year . . . in Japan

Who wouldn’t want to live in a city that has carp and no smoking signed tiled into the sidewalk : )