Mikimoto Island
I have a small confession to make. Sometimes I steal things. While my
stealing is petty and doesn't hurt anyone, still it is wrong. And yet
sometimes I do it. I think I do it when I feel lonely, angry , or bored,
as
a way of escaping from these feelings. And it works . There is a certain
excitement I feel when I steal something. Will I get caught? What will I
say if I get caught? And a certain feeling of having put one over. Plus I
get to keep what I steal.
My first 3 months in Japan I stayed in Kyoto. I found out where to shop,
where to go at night, where to walk. It was safe. Yet, I felt very
uncomfortable still because of my limited language ability. I couldn't
understand anyone and it was embarassing to be in this awkward position.
So
I avoided situations where I would be forced to talk to Japanese. I never
left Kyoto. One day I woke up and realized that I'd better start traveling
around soon or I wouldn't see anything but 1 city. Don't be such a baby I
told myself. Buck up . You can do it. On the next long weekend which
was
National sports day, October 9th, I decided to take a trip somewhere. I
would travel light and just stay 1 night. I would only take what was
necessary. After much deliberation I decided to go to the Ise Shima
Penisula
about 2 hours by train east of Kyoto. There were located Ise and Toba.
Ise
is well known to Japanese because it is the site of the most sacred of all
Shinto shrines. Toba is known only for 1 thing. It is the home of the
Mikimoto Island. This story is about Mikimoto so I wont talk about Ise at
all except to say it was very interesting. Mikimoto sounds like a perfect
Japanese blend of Micky Mouse and a regular Japanese sounding name, but it
has nothing to do with Mickey Mouse. Its much more serious than that.
They
are serious there. Very serious .... about pearls. Mikimoto is the name
of
the man who developed the process for making cultured pearls. Sitting
about
20 yards off the harbor, the island is connected to the mainland by a
walkway. The admission was a bit stiff, $15, but after you come all that
way you have to cough it up. After all there is nothing else to do in
Toba.
I think it was worth every penny. It was a perfect example of a
Japanese
Tourist Attraction. It is completely manufactured. You are taken care of
as soon as you set foot in the place. The women who worked in the museum
all
dressed and acted like stewardesses. Great pains are taken to see that you
have a good time. Other examples of the Japanese Tourist Attraction are
Spanish Town where everybody speaks Spanish and they reconstructed an
entire
Spanish Village. There is also Holland Town, Tokyo Disneyland, indoor
surfing, and skiing. Japan is filled with such theme parks.
The museum was divided into many sections. The first went into the
history of oysters and pearls. A little dry for some I admit, but if you
are a science type you can find something to interest you there. The
second
part of the museum is where they explain how the process works. ( I won't
bore you with the explanation unless you really want to know. Write me if
you do.) They even have some women there who are performing the delicate
operation every 10 minutes or so. Another part of the museum they deal
with
the finished product. They discuss what makes a good pearl etc. (Did you
know that only 50% of the cultured pearls even form and that only 5% are
top
grade? Also they can still eat the oyster after they get the pearl? This
information is sure to make you a hit at your next social gathering.) They
show the women who sift through thousands of pearls to find matches to
make
those beautiful strings of pearls. They are matched by color, size , and
luster. Oh yes they of course have a store there where they sell pearls at
all different price ranges. And yes I bought one. I didn't steal it (they
were under lock and key). Another part of the museum focuses on the art of
Mr. Mikimoto. Yes, he was an artist as well and what do you think was his
medium? It was pearls. He made pearl sculptures. In a way they are the
heighth of bad taste. But in another way they were quite beautiful . They
were the talk of the time ( back in the 1920's).Outside they had an
exhibition of the famous Ama divers. These are women who traditionally
wear
white cotton outfits that cover their entire bodies including a little
bonnet that goes over their heads. They wear goggles and dive down into
the
bay water for the oysters. Every half hour a little boat comes out with 2
or 3 divers. They dive in in front of rows of cheering tourists. The
tourists go wild when they come up with an oyster. The young women wave
good naturedly. That is their job. Another diver just stands around so
that you can have a photo opportunity. I saw the divers twice , once at 3
and once at 4:30. I got so involved in the museum and lost all track of
time
(really!) At 4:15 when I looked out the window the sky was ugly. At 4:30
it
hard started to rain. It was a cold driving rain. It looked like it would
get worse. The stewardesses started putting out umbrellas for people who
wanted to watch the Ama divers. As soon as I saw the umbrellas a light
clicked in my brain. Maybe I could steal one. I hadn't brought one with
me
because I had wanted to travel light. I picked up an umbrella and opened
it. It was a nice umbrella. The metal halter slid on its track smoothly
like a well oiled gun. It was a distinctive pink and black with the name
Mikimoto Pearl Island written in large fancy English script on one side.
I
walked under the stands that were erected for watching the divers. The
rain
didn't keep the people away . I leaned against the end of the concrete
stands and waited. When the divers came out and everyone was watching
them
I carefully and furtively slid the umbrella down my right coat sleeve. It
was slightly shorter than the umbrellas that I was used to . I was able
to
slide it into my sleve. However the top of the umbrella was sticking out
somewhere around my ear. Would they notice? Then I had another idea. If
I
put the metal tip of the umbrella into my pocket then the handle just
reached my collar bone. It was a bit uncomfortable but it worked. I
stuffed
my hand in my pocket to conceal the unnatural protrusion. I practised
moving around a little and it felt like I might be able to walk naturally
this way. If I fell though I probably would break my collarbone. The
show
ended a few minutes later. I waited for the others to leave and then
followed them . I was able to walk but very stiffly. Maybe it looked
like
the right side of my body was paralysed, but I was sure that no one could
see the umbrella. I followed a young couple and their 2 children out of
the
museum. No one stopped me or seemed to notice anything unusual about me.
The stewardess at the door bowed low and thanked me. Maybe she thought it
rude that I didn't bow back but really I couldn't. She probable just
thought that I was a foreigner who didn't know any better. Once outside
it
really started to rain. I waited until I was a good hundred yards away
from
the museum before I started to take out the umbrella. Then it struck me.
Everyone in this town either worked in the Mikimoto Museum or had
something
to do with it. Everyone knew what the umbrellas looked like and what the
logo that was emblazened on the outside meant even if it was in English.
I
felt like the robber who had stolen that crown jewels but couldn't do
anything with them because everyone knew what they looked like. I thought
about this as the rain notched up in intensity. I was getting wet and
cold.
I limped over to a doorway and get out of the rain and to consider my
options. Then it came to me. The answer. There in the doorway was an
umbrella stand stuffed with umbrellas. Japanese people don't bring their
umbrellas inside when they are wet. If it is raining they always leave
them
outside by the door. Every door had an umbrella rack in front. So the
answer was simple, I could just exchange my Mikimoto umbrella for a less
conspicuous one. I could let someone else worry about the wrath of
Mikimoto
mowing them down. I looked up and down the street. No one was coming. I
looked in the rack and found one that looked as nice as the one that I was
giving up. I started to worm out the Mikimoto umbrella when suddenly I
felt
sad about losing it. I had worked hard to get it and there was something
so
cool about it. It was a great souvenir. Then I knew that I didn't want
to
part with it. I thought some more. A story is what I needed. I decided
that if anyone stopped me and asked me about the umbrella I would just say
that I found it. So I carefully started to take out the umbrella. I
opened
it up. Its almost flourescent colors screamed Mikimoto but no one came
running out of their house demanded it back. I walked to a convenience
store to get a snack and to get warmed up. Some people saw the umbrella.
They looked at it and then at me and then walked past. I left the store.
It was still raining. I opened the umbrella. No one said anything to me.
I
passed a policeman. He looked up but didn't do anything. Then it
occurred
to me what was going on. The Japanese were too polite to say anything
about
it. Even though it was obvious that I was walking around with an umbrella
that I had lifted from the museum, they were more concerned with avoiding
any conflicts than getting that stupid umbrella back. It would be very
rude
to cause another person to loose face by catching them in a lie or an act
of
thievery. I tested out this theory that night at the youth hostel. The
clerk asked me if I was a member. I lied that I was but that I had lost
my
card. Back home I would have had to paid the full rate. He gave me the
members rate. Then I stole his pen and he saw me. He didn't say
anything.
I tried it again a few more times. Always the same thing.
This all happened about 6 weeks ago. Since then I just don't feel like
stealing things anymore. Somehow it just isn't the same. What's the
point?
Its too easy here. No one will even try to catch me. I guess I`ll have
to find a new way to get cheap thrills in Japan.
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