A trip to Ashiya             

  May 30, 2001

 

 Yesterday has already been a day at Kobe home doing nothing, I have decided that today shall be the day to stretch my legs and make damage to the world.  After having breakfast, which also served as my lunch, bidding my Kobe mom a farewell, heading to Ashiya.  Ashiya is a town somewhere in the rural Kobe, a home to a famous Japanese author, Junichiro Tanizaki, whose name I just heard yesterday.  Hmm, a non-blinded follower, I am. 

 Sitting in the Kobe subway train, looking at the people surrounding me, feeling nothing but that “little differences” is amongst us all.  According to my dear John Travolta’s interpretation of the “little differences” is that although the major part of the thing is the same, but just the name or the usage of that is different from places to places, it makes the subject different.  Like in Pulp Fiction, according to Travolta, people in Holland, eats French fries with mayonnaise, instead of ketchup and sugar like I normally do, that’s the ‘little difference, ‘ which just separated me from them right in the middle.  And if you do so obsessed with your original way, it will be blown out of proportion. 

 Like now, in the subway, I see what I see normally, doesn’t matter which country I am in, people. Yes, people sitting, people standing, people talking to people, people listening to the headphone, people reading, and people sleeping. But it’s those little differences that make you think. 

 For example, the books.  Actually, it’s the size of the book.  I believe Japan has the smallest, thinnest pocket size book in Asia. (I am not going to say in the world, because I may get a complaint.)  It’s the pocket-sized book that you can just grab it with you so you can:  NOT to look at anybody else while you stand or sit stupidly in the subway train.  I have witnessed a young boy, a “handsome boy,” as what they call them here in Japan, who has nothing with him but sure enough, a pocket size book, heading to the subway train. This has become their culture. The pocket-sized book.  And I believe this is getting transmitted to other parts of the Asia as well, e.g. Taiwan, because I have just bought myself a “Red Mansion Dream” ( 紅樓夢, sorry for the direct translation), with a size of no more than 10 x 8 x 3 cm.  Even smaller, although thicker, than the normal Japanese books that handsome boy was holding.  I am so proud of my country. I am. Really.

 And the advertisements.  Doesn’t those ads just bother you?  Here you are in a nicely lighted subway train day-dreaming about, but all you can see around you is the ads for this and that.  If you are in the train without a book and if not sleepy, I am sorry, you have to look at them, or at somebody.  I have personally found the ads in Taiwan subways are not as bad, actually, there aren’t many, but there are subway maps, so you can spend your time study your trip or future trips.  At least, that’s what I do.  Oh, you can get off at ABC instead of 123, and take a free bus or walk to XYZ, this will save you a 5 NTD, if you are so financially handicapped.   Unlike Shanghai subway trains, you are forced to look at the lady’s underwear ads everywhere you go.  Unless, I repeat, unless you look at somebody else.  Now, that wouldn’t be so polite would it, in this Asian kind of country, or any country for that matter.  I don’t mind Japanese subway train ads, because I cannot read them, they are mostly about magazines anyway, but a lot of them, hanging just about anywhere in the train.  But again, that’s what Travolta has mentioned, the ‘little difference’, if I allow them, bugs me.  A lot.  

 I love to be in the subway trains, or any crowded places for that matter.  Because you can see how people behave, and trying to conclude what they are like, what are going through their minds.  I personally always pretend that something is going through my mind so that people next to me, or sitting facing me, can have an imaginative good time, while without a book or sleepy bug.  Too bad, at the trip’s end, I never have them share their feelings with me.  Never found out whether it worked or not. 

 Here in the Kobe subway train, I see people.  I see people do any people would do when they feel they’ve been watched, who sits very straight still, like in front of a school master who’s giving a serious lecture.  I see people who sleep in various positions.  Heads tilted sideways is the most common in every country.  What I find amazing is those who sleep with their heads bowing 135+ degrees forward, totally against the human anatomy.  But funny how I don’t see this type of people often in the Taipei or Shanghai subway trains. 

 I also see people listen to their head phones, trying add music in their lives; people with books, of course, trying to see what could happen to some other people; people staring straight-aways, maybe thinking about what they going to cook for the night, or what will they say when they meet up with their pathetic partners; people looking about, trying to make out what’s in their surroundings; and people, like me, trying to read the neighbor’s newspapers and trying not to be so obvious. 

 Don’t you just hate it when you realize that someone is looking over your shoulder and reads with you?  In which case, you probably will spend less time as possible on the same page.  You will also trying to ignore the nude girl’s article, with pictures, as much as possible; unlike the neighbor’s paper that I am reading off from.  I guess I did a good job without him knowing it. 

 I also found the young fellow to my right is reading The 101st Proposal, a Japanese romantic novel.  Now, that’s a book I don’t think any man would read.  Oops, there I go again, separating people who are from Mars and people who are from Venus again, right down the middle, nobody is in between, because then you would be someone with no land to stand on.  But I guess there is always someone who is safely landed on a secret place touching both side of the planet.  As I hope I am one of them. But again, think and do are in two totally different categories.

 This reminds me of the discussion I had with couple of friends the other night, over one too many drinks.  In which someone just categorized us women as people without logic.  Can you believe this guy?  Just throw us women all off that planet which we call logic.  Well, the news is that we, the women, are well with logic, just on a different logic planet then the men.  I forgave the guy eventually, after he’s been forced to agree with my logic.  And if it weren’t for all these differences, there wouldn’t be any business for the ‘how to communicate better with your love ones’ type of classes, and not to mention all the shrinks, phychics, fortune tellers, and of course, any religion that we all try to seek comfort and solution from at the day’s end.     

 Just love this kind of world don’t you? 

 Well, as I was wondering off in my little thought, the announcement, the un-be-li-e-va-b-ly long announcement alerted me.  Because you don’t hear these when you are in the small stations.  And if my memory serves me right, I don’t believe there is any big station that I would pass before I reached mine.

 Since I am a woman with grace and intelligence, I wouldn’t want to appear panicky or even out of order in front of these foreign people, right?  So I gracefully got out my little subway map, casually glanced at the station names, and tried very hard to find where the hell I was, but only slowly realizing that I’d gone two stations extra already.  As all of the above is occurring, I start to sense that the buildings, the trees, and the electricity poles are flashing in front of my eyes, which only means there’s no way I can get off now.  A lesson for everyone who is about to come to Japan, the Super Express trains don’t stop at little stations. 

 Well, never mind, since I am on the Super Express train, I should be in the next station in no time.  And allow me to elaborate, in the next BIG station in no time.  We are about to speed through another three little stations before a full stop. 

 Again, never mind that, for someone who can get lost at her own home town subway stations, what harm can do to her that she’s got lost in a foreign subway station?  Oh no, let me make a correction, not lost, she is just taking an extra train ride before she arrives at the correct station.  So let’s just let the lady with grace and intelligence to arrive at a station call Juso, written 13 in Chinese words, and make her “been there, done that” mark, then get on with the right train. 

 Ashiya turns out to be a lovely countryside town.  But sad to say, once you are out of the station, there is no way that you can tell whether you should turn to the left or the right, even with the little map in your walking tour book.  The first step is always difficult.  Just like in the curse appeared in Jimmy’s Turning Left, Turning Right  (or in Chinese, 幾米’s 向左走,向右走), I turn to the left immediately without thinking.  And of course, and no wonder I am still with my single little soul, it was wrong. 

 After I gotten my direction straight, and thank god I abide to the belief of ask when in doubt, I started my little walking exercise which shows perfectly in my recent bought Walking Tours in Kobe, in Japanese.  What would be a faster way to learn Japanese, when you have only Japanese book to read?  Yeah, I can learn to read Japanese faster all right, and I also can be very confused, when without a dictionary, which of course, I didn’t bring when I came on with my little walking exercise today.  I understood the book when they wrote bring as little as you can on the walking trip. 

 Anyway, Ashiya is a quiet little town, I just followed the red dotted line on the map and see what’s around me.  Except that the best season to visit is in April when all the cherry blossoms are in their fullest.  Now, I only have the stream without water, the pine trees, and the big houses which all look like coffee shops.  Seriously, the big houses here can very well be like in the ones in front of Taichung Art Museum, various types of restaurants, and coffee shops, crammed full with rich or not-money-sensitive Taichungese (not sure if this can be a word too).  But maybe it’s better this way, because I think most of those restaurants in Taichung are out of business by now. 

 I had only one stop in mind, the house of Mr. Yamazaki, whose name I have not heard, and whose books I have not read, until the day before.  But after reading the description of it, a traditional Japanese house with his original display of writing area, has done it for me.  Me, a fan of traditions and oldies. 

 It is a nice little Japanese traditional house, but without woods or bamboos that I had hope for, even the door is automatic.  It has though a nice garden and a pond that only rich people can build in their yards.  I am happy there anyway, being the only guest, and able to understand 80% of what’s been written on the walls about his life.  But of course, 80% of them are written with Chinese characters.

 After an hour in there, I find myself out in the rain again.  I have chosen this day on purpose, for I always link Japanese places with rain.  Cannot have it in any other way, and loving every moment of it.

 And I followed the little red dotted line back to the station where I started, seeing another fellow puzzled about his whereabouts, and happy that I am not the only one with the Turning Left, Turning Right curse. 

 So this ends my little walking tour in Ashiya. 

 I have no problem with the stations on the way home. If you need to know!

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