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Have just completed my 25 box move out of dust-town Isesaki and into the
bright and shiny lights of Maebashi. Well, the lights aren't exactly
bright and shiny where I'm living, about as far north as the heighth of the
map allows for. Up here, near the base of Mt. Akagi, the lights are more
hazy and dim, casting a pale shadow over the four-lane Akagi-dori where at
nighttime, most of the traffic is of two kinds: busy diesel drivers and
creepy, hopped up Bosozoku (the motorcycle high-school version of the
Yakuza; Boso means violent lifestyle and zoku means family or clan. Most
of them ride Yamaha, but they worship Harley Davidson. They mainly race up
and down HWY 17 revving their engines at a high pitched whine that would
irritate a Hell's Angel. Sound more like a fleet of juicers than mean
street machines. Yet that sound is inextricably wound up in the machismo
of Mr. Bosozoku. They don't tend to mess with foreignors and I feel safe
to go out anytime, but there aren't really too many places to go as far
north as I am. If I am feeling 'genki' however, Chiyoda-machi (downtown)
is about 30 min. away on foot or 10 by mt. bike.
A bowling alley and pool hall where Rika and I already met the
local bowling alley weirdo (every neighbor hood has one). He kept leaning
over the billiard table, watching the shots and asking "Do you know?"
"Know what?" I asked already tired of him beyond even being
impressed by his excellent command o English.
"Wakaranai. Wakaranai, Eigo de. (What's Wakaranai in English?)
"'I don't understand' desu."
"Wakaranai?"
"Wakaranai. So desu."
"Stick" he said motioning toward my pool stick.
"Yes, that's right."
"O kudasai," he said. (Please give it to me.)
"Furonto de takusan ga aru yo." (There are plenty at the front
desk, yo.)
"Dame?" (No?)
"Dame desu yo. Ja ne. (That right, no. See you later, creep.)
Definitely one of the stranger Japanese conversations I've had recently.
Mossburger's up north the street; I don't eat there, but the tall
sign makes a good landmark. There is a good ramen place down the street,
south. And an izekaya (bar and grill) a three minute walk out the back
door and over the little bridge in the small neighborhoods behind my place
to the east, but I haven't gone there yet and am sort of avoiding it (later
did go and have been avoiding it all the more ever since, such a sad,
working stiff have-a-nother-one ta-numb-the-already-dull-throb-of-existence
kind of place it is. Had two mineral waters and some yakitori (mini
shiskebobs) and left soon after the very drunk guy seated next to me
started sending out those "I'm going to work up the nerve to talk to you
soon" vibes.
Besides, I'm a bit guarded about going to a place like that so
close to my apartment. Next thing likely to happen is someone sees me
going into my apartment drive, and that evening some of the "jodan"
(regulars) might decide to hold their ni-jikai (second party) at my pad.
And my new apatto just isn't sufficiently spacious enough to room a gang of
drunken salary-men: 1lvgrm, 1loft,tiny kitchenette, toire, ofuro (bath and
shower room).
Rika and I have been taking brisk hour-and-a-half long walks on the
cycling and walking roads that run along the Momonoki river, connecting.
Takasaki, Tamamura, Ino, Isesaki, Komogata and Maebashi. I'm getting
acquainted with some great mountain roads and trails just twenty minutes
from here by bike). It was on the cycling road that I returned two nights
ago after finally teaching my last private class with Emi-chan. Leaving
her home about 7:30 (it's dark by that time, these days, at this latitude),
I soon made the bike path and was cruising at about 25-30, alternately
through the open air or beneath the overhanging branches of trees, when a
thought stuck me. "Gosh," thought I. "The bats are certainly unusually
thick tonight, aren't they?" Sure enough, I noted, there did seem to be a
higher than normal number present. But I pressed on undaunted and honestly
unconcerned, because of my confidence in the skill of the bat, a confidence
gained from countless cave explorations in Missouri. Several times, in the
Sequiota park cave, for example, I've had hundreds fly past me as I crawled
through a narrow low-ceilinged shaft, and have never had one collide with
my face or even graze me with a wing. It was about the time that I was
reflecting happily on this as I passed 'neath a canopy of leaves that I saw
a black obect coming directly towards me at about three meters high, swoop
down. I pulled down just as I felt it brush lightly over he top of my
head. I didn't panic, but did ride with my head down a little lower. To
be sure, the encounter established a certain tone or mood for the rest of
the hour-and-a-half ride as I reflected that even bats are fallible. I
noticed though, that there are a lot more komori (bats) in Isesaki than in
Maebashi. I decided that this is because of how poorly the Isesaki stretch
of the Cycling Road is tended; wheareas the Momonoki section is so
developed that one could imagine people actually spending time there, there
are long stretches through the Isesaki area where the weeds are a foot or
two overhead, an excellent breeding area for insects and the Promised Land
of bats for miles and miles, I'm sure. Anyway, I should have suspected
that such a thing might happen, since the evening before the new A.E.T. had
called asking me to come by and remove a bat from her shower. The poor
fellow was alive, but listless, having probably worn itself out batting
itself against the walls, thinking, "Zannen! Doushio? Nanika o sureba iin
deshou?" (Great, now what am I going to do?) I carried it outside in a
plastic bag and when I came out later it was gone (had left under it's own
volition or had been carried away by something bigger than itself). That's
about the most excitement there has been in some while. I have quieted
down quite a lot lately (I turn 32 next month), spending most my evenings,
teaching private classes or studying Japanese myself or at some of the free
evening classes here in Maebashi. Began studying kanji (Chinese
characters) two-and-a-half months ago and am up to about 500 now. Three
hundred more and I'll kinow as many as the average sixth grader. My goal
for the next year is to know as many as my junior high third graders.
1,200. Yikes!) Moving. I know from having done it eighteen times
that the biggest disadvantage of moving is the stress, but once that
period has passed there's opportunity for writing over old routines with
new ones. I do hope to write some livable ones here during the next three
years. Gunma is a beautiful region and Maebashi, is considerably closer
than Isesaki to Mt. Miyogi and practically next door to Mt. Akagi. (Along
with Haruna, these make up the "sanzan," the three mountains most
recognized for their unusual shapes. Akagi is long and low like a
reclining figure. Miyogi is not so wide, but juts directly upward with a
jagged summit.) Not the biggest mountains, but then, as anyone who climbs
Mt. Fuji will tell you, the biggest mountains are always the most boring
when you look at them up close. And that is my wise saying for the month.
Make what you will of it.
The next couple of stories you'll read (or scan) come from almost a
year ago. The Mt. Fuji story came a over a year ago and "A Wedding
Reception and Four Drunken Mountain Climbers" happened at least six months
ago. A long time ago.
Today. Finished a three day workshop giving presentations to the
Japanese teachers and am exhausted. Attended a meeting with four other
A.E.T.s attending the Mt. Akagi English Summer Camp for Junior High
Students. That's on the 17th 18th and 19th (Why didn't I take nenkyu (paid
holiday) and disappear like so many of the others? Too late now. Probably
will be fun, anyway.) Evening of the 19th, I'm substitute teaching as well
as on the 20th and 21st. And I was volunteered to give a presentation on
volunteerism to some high school students, August 10th. Any ideas? It
has rained almost every day here for the last week. Between the 10th and
the 17th hope to visit Mr. Frank in Niigata City where I hear there are
serious floods.
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