July 25, 2000

Hello from Japan?it`s been a long time.  I still do not have the internet at home, but am awaiting a modem that is on the way.  You know by now (probably) that we got zapped by lightning and it killed our modem.  Sorry to be so out of touch.  The break from my contacts in the states has taken a toll on me?I am feeling very homesick! 

On Saturday, I found myself in Maruzen, a large bookstore that sells English books, and we were perusing many different books of pictures in their sale section, and choosing the latest Seventeen Magazine-type rags to give to my 17-year-old student Eriko (Naomi`s daughter) during our Wednesday night lessons.  Eriko really responds well to learning right from fashion mags, and loves to learn the slang that American kids are using.  Plus, she is interested in this stuff, so she works really hard for me.  I am proud of her.  But I digress, I was in the bookstore.  I needed to find the little/big girl`s room.  When I entered, there was a line, and I was third.  In a few minutes, three older women entered, bent in half as most oba-chan`s are, and carrying huge bags, as most oba-chan`s do.  One of them stepped directly in front of me.  I just looked at her and smiled, it was obvious that I was in line.  So I stepped closer to her, and there was not any room for anyone to get between us again.  I would let the first one slide, she was obviously in a hurry and I can respect that.  However, I had waited a long time, and was on my medication, and would soon be more than slightly uncomfortable if you know what I mean.  Plus, there was no AC in the bathroom, and the place was really really really hot!  Anyway, when the door opened and the woman went in, another of the ladies pushed me back and stood in front of me.  That was too much.  I smiled and said excuse me, but signaled that the line was behind me.  Then, one of the ladies started speaking in rapid Japanese that this particular bathroom was not for gaijin.  This bathroom would not be open to anyone who was not Japanese, which I found rather humorous.  So I said, �gIi desu, watashi wa Nihonjin desu.�h (That`s okay, I am Japanese.) and said so with a completely straight face.  She was not impressed.  She told me again that this PUBLIC bathroom was not for foreigners.  I stayed in line and stopped looking at her.  When the door opened and she stepped in, I stepped in with her.  So she left, and since it was my turn and I had already been as polite as I was going to be to these women, I had my use of the facility quickly.  When I exited and washed my hands, I noticed that the three of them were gathered outside the door, with a security officer.  He stopped me and talked in half Japanese-half bad English and said that they had complained that I was rude to them.  I bowed profusely, apologized, explained that I was a foreigner and meant no offense, said that they had informed me that I was not allowed to use the female bathroom even though I was female, adding how nice it was for them to make such an exception for me in this public building in this public city, and inviting them to visit my country so that they could be treated in the same generous manner that they had treated me.  I ended with �gSorry, I didn`t understand you�c�h and then I just walked away to where Ken and Jessica were waiting for me.  I didn�ft wait for the security officer to escort me, as I am certain he might have done, with those three spouting off at him.  He was amused at the whole thing, actually.  While I was speaking, he just kept looking at them and reacting to what I said.  It was clear that he understood what they had done.  I didn�ft want to make a scene for him or a further one for myself, so I just walked away.  Those three ladies will never in their lifetime understand how much I appreciate their country or how hard I work to teach their grandchildren English so that they can go to college.  They are miserable and they hate foreigners, and they have every right to feel however they feel.  But if I let them push me in cases like that, then they will push all of us.  I had to NOT be pushed, seeing as how my colleagues in the JET Programme will be here in this very store for years and years to come.  I have spoken before of an incident that happened with an older woman in a temple who hated me because I was an American.  That ONE woman`s anger in that situation was different.  I let her take it out on me and she went on her way and I on mine.  It was not worth the effort to push back and it was over as quickly as it began.  We meet unpleasant people every day and choosing your battles is sometimes hard to define.  In a public bathroom, in a department store, in a western city like Kyoto, there is no need for me to be passive.  They have a foreign section specifically catering to the foreign community, and thus it was as much MY turf as anybody else in the world.  I do, after all, have yen in my wallet and a valid visa in my passport.  They were out of line, and that kind of bigotry has no place in any country.  To tell me that I couldn�ft use the restroom because I was foreign was an insult to their own people, who strive hard to make things open between all of us.  I stood up as much for my colleagues as I did for the rest of the Japanese people who understand what we are doing here.  I know that I seem to be justifying my meager actions to the nth degree, but I have always had a problem NOT being overly respectful of older people.  I suppose that the primary difference was just that it was evident that they were just mean-spirited bullies trying to make me uncomfortable because they COULD, which as I have said countless times, is an attitude which has no place in any country.  This kind of behavior here in Japan is pretty rare, actually.  In a year, we have had a handful of anti-foreigner experiences.  When you think of how often somebody in America will tick you off at the grocery or at the bank or at a PTA meeting, then you see that it is just about average.  We are not disturbed at all.  In fact, after I met up with Ken and Jessica later, we went down to the Haagen-Daas for some ice cream and we had a good laugh about it.  The phrase of the day after that was �git`s okay, because I am Japanese.�h

We checked into a youth hostel in Kyoto and went to a the western portion of the city, an area known as Arashiyama.  This place is famous for Cormorant fishing.  The history of this place is one of serenity and balance.  Let me give you the Readers` Digest version of the place.  You may remember from previous letters that Kyoto was the capital of Japan for more than eleven centuries, which was amazing because up until that time there had been no capital to stand more than 75 years.  The shogun lived here, in Nijo Castle, and ruled the country from here since political power had been stripped from the emperor and the �gsun line�h family.  In feudal Japan, there was a rise in political turmoil which caused considerable discomfort for the aristocratic ruling class, and when Kyoto became just too stressful for them to be able to make a decent cup of tea, they high-tailed it to Arashiyama to get themselves together.  The mountains are literally covered with flaming red maples in the autumn, and with cherry trees in full bloom in the spring, so the place is very popular for nature viewing, and gets better every year, but it is the lush bamboo forests that rise all around you that really give you that feeling of peace which must have been the goal of the bigwigs of the old days.  In the middle of it all is the Oigawa River, shallow like the rest of the rivers in Japan, and meandering lazily through its wide riverbed, surrounded by the town.  Arashiyama has the feel of a small town tucked away from it all?it doesn�ft feel as if you are still in Kyoto, one of the largest cities in the world.  And if I hadn`t arrived on the riverbank on a Kyoto City Bus, I might not have believed it. But as I said before, the place is famous for Cormorant fishing, which is something that you really have to see to believe.  Cormorants are fairly large birds, somewhere between mallard ducks and those geese down at Berg pond, with long necks and beaks with a small crook at the tip.  They are mostly black, with white feathers showing like petticoats under black wings.  They are not beautiful birds, but they are very graceful and interesting to watch.  We walked down to the boat docks and bought tickets on one of the viewing boats, and loaded onto a small craft with about fifteen Japanese people.  There are no seats in the boat?they have rice mats laid over the planks themselves, and we were to take off our shoes before we stepped onto the mats.  The boat is long, longer than a canoe but wider, with a flared bow and squared stern, like a combination of a gondola and a johnboat.  In the front section, a plank separated where the guests were seated from our captain, a young man who was apprenticing, being taught by a bent older man who looked as if he had spent his life on this river.  The younger man had a pole about twelve feet long to drive the boat with?there were no motors on any of the boats, and we watched as he drove the pole down into the shallow water and walked backwards to move our boat forward.  He did not have as much control, and frequently needed the assistance of his coach, but we didn�ft mind?the ride was very beautiful.  The sun started to fade, already had sunk behind the mountains and the ridges and valley between them were glowing, bleeding golden light on the water although the sky itself was gray.  Soon the only lights we could see were those that hung from the many passenger boats, paper lanterns that swung over our heads, and the lights on the shoreside from the vendors and restaurants who waited to serve us after our little excursion.  The time of day was simply perfect, just enough light was left to see the brilliant greens of the Japanese garden along the river, the brown thatched roof of the traditional teahouse nearby, the rich blues and greens of the bamboo groves, the mountains a deeper blue against the gray sky, and then the black waters of the Oigawa moving past us as the captain punted our boat along, in line with the other boats.  It was a pretty good view there from the floor of the boat, the side is the perfect height for an armrest, and the water was cool as it passed through my fingers?would have loved to go for a swim, especially as we were there on the hottest day in recorded history.  Soon our boat turned around, following the line of the others, and the boats formed a line in the middle of the river, bow to stern like that, one long line of swinging paper lanterns.  A couple of boat vendors appeared, and the smell of roasting squid and octopus filled the air around us, and some of the passengers on our boat purchased snacks or cold drinks, and perused the assortment of fireworks and single-use cameras available on this little floating kiosk.  Soon they moved on to the next boat, and it was nearly time for the fishing to commence!

They have been fishing in this way for centuries here on the river.  Now it is only done for the tourists, but is done in the traditional manner that was originally employed.  There is a kind of small sweet fish in the river, plentiful during July and August, and they get them with these birds.  The birds are taken from their baskets and a ring is attached around their necks.  The rings are all connected to strings which the fisherman holds.  A fire is built in a wire basket that hangs from the front of the fishing boat.  The fire basket is suspended over the water, and it crackles and pops, sending sparks down to the river surface.  The fish are attracted to the fire, and then the birds are sent out on the water.  The fishing boats began to move along the length of the line of passenger boats so that we could get a good view of the sight.  The birds will dive down and scoop up a fish or two, and when they come back into view, we can see that a fish is jumping in his throat, above the ring which keeps him from swallowing it.  After he caught a few, the fisherman will pull him in by the string and press his throat, causing the bird to spit out the fish into the basket.  Then, the bird is sent out for more.  There are five or six birds to each fishing boat, and the fisherman knows which one to bring in, and does so quickly.  With him holding all these strings, he looks like a giant puppet master to some degree, and it is a bit comical because the man also wears a skirt over his clothing made of rice straw to protect him from being beaten by wings and beaks when hauling in the birds.  So in a sense, he looks like a giant puppet master doing the hula.  The birds are magnificent to watch, gracefully diving down for their catch and occasionally stretching their wings to dry them.  As the boats passed the first time, I struggled to see it all?there was so much happening at once.  As they passed the second time, I watched Jessica, who seemed to be having the same difficulty seeing everything as it went by so fast!  When we reached a lull, Ken and I asked her what she thought, and she echoed our sentiments exactly, saying; �gThose poor birds!�h  We tried hard to suppress those feelings as we continued to watch.  The boats moved our line from the center of the river to a line of bamboo posts sticking out of the river, which held our boats stationary with the current as the line stretched out crosswise.  The fishing boats made three more passes, allowing us a good view of the birds doing their job.  Nearby boats set off fireworks that they had purchased from the boat vendor and the whispered awed of the passengers in our boat filled our ears.  When the birds were out of direct view, the people talked amongst themselves, and the three of us were the topic of conversation.  Several would giggle in embarrassment, and others would wave to Jessica and make comments about how pretty she was or how interesting it was that her doll looked just like her.  In between snapping pictures, I found myself really enjoying the moment there on the river?the water rocking our boat ever so slightly, and pushing its way over the rocks and around the posts that held us there, flowing like black glass over the stones and then under the bridges where people walked hand in hand.  We could hear the stepping of people in wooden geta slippers, sounding like distant cavalry as they clip-clopped along in their light cotton yukata (summer kimono) and the lights from the boats reflected and danced in the water, the colors mingling and dripping down, reaching out for us in our boat and waving quietly.  It was very tranquil and I enjoyed it all immensely.  We all did, including Maryanne. Yes, Jessica brought along her My Twin Doll (whose name is Maryanne, pronounced like Marian) and when Jessica brings Maryanne along, it usually makes the two of them part of the tour for the locals.  I can no longer remember if there are any trips where Maryanne has joined us that have NOT resulted in people taking pictures of the two of them.  If we stop to take a picture of Jessica and Maryanne, other people crowd around to take a picture of them also.  It is bizarre.  Well, Maryanne was on the boat, and so there were people taking pictures of Jessica and Maryanne as they passed along in their own boats.  So Ken took a picture of them taking a picture of Jessica.  Perhaps you would have to be there, but it was a rather funny moment.  Jessica has a lot of fun with Maryanne.  They have a few outfits that match also (made by the same company) and a pair of PJ`s that match, so whenever they dress alike, the reaction is ten times as surprising.  Jessica and Maryanne both had their white T-shirts and denim jumpers on this night, with ponytails of blond hanging down their backs, the same length and color.  To top it off, I had strung together a matching bead necklace for them both, which thrilled Jessica to no end when I gave them to her.  With Jessica, a little goes a long way.  I mean, two strings of elastic, about fifteen cents worth of plastic beads and ten minutes of my time and you would think that I would soon be nominated for Mother of the Year.  I got to be a hero.  It`s good to be the hero.  And sure, I make light of all of it here, but the truth is that I am a complete sucker for that smile.  I suppose you could say that I am addicted to getting Jessica excited about stuff.  She is really infectious.  So I`m afraid that she is spoiled completely rotten.  That`s not to say that she has it easy?the poor thing has chores and duties and rules and responsibilities, more even than I did, but she needs more structure than I did.  She`s such a good kid and I am so proud of her.

While I am bragging on Jessica, let me tell you just how big she is.  You would not believe it.  Yesterday was a half-day for me, and she stayed at a friend`s until lunchtime.  I asked her to help me do a couple loads of laundry, and I separated and filled the bag, then she took it, loaded and started the machine.  I went to start lunch and she soon joined me, helping to make some pasta for our stew.  After we ate, she washed the dishes for me.  When Ken got home, we all lounged in the bedroom with the air conditioner and watched a movie together.  We saw �gCable Guy�h with Jim Carrey in it, not because it was a spectacular movie, but because there was a definite message at the end that Ken and I figured she needed to see.  We talked about it at great length, and Jessica was able to talk about how important it was to be nice to each other and about how lucky she felt.  I asked her about that.  She said that she can see why a lot of people get confused because of what they see on TV, but that we are always there to answer her questions.  We are very careful to tell her what she can see and what she is not allowed to see until she is older and can understand more adult relationships.  She said she understood that because she is still a kid that there are a lot of things that she doesn`t know about.  It is in this way that I figure that she is infinitely smarter than I am?at her age I thought I knew it all already.  When we were in Kyoto, on the bus she said that she wanted to be as smart as me someday.  I told her that I thought she would be much smarter than me, and she was surprised.  I told her that older people were wiser in a whole lot of ways because they had lived longer, but I said �gJessica, just because someone is older does not make them smarter.  The older generations have many many lessons that we must learn, and the most important classroom you will enter is at the feet of your grandparents.  Everyone has something that they can teach you and everyone has something that they can learn from you.  Respect that relationship and it will make you a better person.�h  She pondered that to such a degree that I almost added the word �ggrasshopper�h at the end?I was feeling very much like I was trapped in a kung fu theatre episode.  It has already backfired on me.  You see, yesterday she washed the dishes for me because �gyou`re older, Mom, and I want to take care of you�c�h which sounds like a pretty sweet deal until she revealed her ulterior motive?having me captive to listen to the details of her ever-growing Pokemon collection, with their individual fighting styles, their development, skills, and etc.  �gYou have something you can learn from me, too�h, she said.  There you have it?my words coming back to haunt me.  I told her that I learn stuff from her all the time.  I asked her to teach me Japanese also.  We talked about Pokemon, but I confided in her that I wasn�ft really obsessive about learning all about Pokemon since it wasn�ft something that I would use all the time.  Gradually she consented to turning on the TV and we switched to a Japanese soap opera (which are even cheesier than ours if you can believe that) and she translated what was happening as the characters were speaking, even the slang and the expressions on their faces were put into English for me to hear, and her natural rhythm at translating was astounding to me.  I did learn a little Japanese under her tutelage, and I think that if she can keep this up, it will be a wonderful skill for her in the future.

Well, I got really way off on a tangent.  I started off with Cormorant Fishing and ended up with Japanese soap operas by way of laundry and Pokemon.  Let me just go full circle and get back to the wrap-up on the Arashiyama trip.  At the end of the boat ride, we got out of the boat and walked around to the dock where the fishing boats were taking care of the birds.  The birds were all perched on the sides of the boats, and drying their wings.  The fisherman was taking them one at a time, grooming him and checking him, and unfastening his ring and feeding him some of the total catch.  I was glad to see this kind of care being given, but still thought that it was a poor existence for these creatures.  We all agreed that it was interesting to watch, although we have felt a little guilty since then for helping to support such cruelty to these birds.  After all, our purchasing three more tickets just reinforces that there is a niche here still for this kind of tourist stunt.  We three talked about it at great length and took our justification in that it was the picture of traditional Japan that was so interesting.  Most people who have lived in Japan will agree that the Japanese are not too terribly concerned about being overly humane to animals.  The ASPCA would have a field day in this country.  When we find a place where the animals are treated well and are healthy, we are surprised and pleased.  The sad truth is that the zoos and pet shops that we have seen (and we usually stop to see them) are just not sufficient for the animals.  We do only slightly better in America, but you get what I mean.  At any rate, I was glad to have had the experience of seeing the traditional cormorant fishing.  It is something I will never forget.  If I get to Arashiyama in the summer again, I will sit on the docks and watch the boats and the fishing, yes, because it really is something to see--a picture of history happening right there in front of your eyes, but I won`t buy a ticket.  I don�ft think my conscience would let me.  My conscience would say to me, �gbut Mom, I thought we said we didn�ft like how the birds were treated.�h  And then she would clip-clop off with Maryanne in her arms in search of something else new and interesting.

And on that note, I will close.  I need to go give my conscience a great big hug.