More incredibly long posts...

Saturday the 29th found me headed to the gym for the first time. Minami was busy at work and I was lazying around the house. I had lunch with her parents and asked to borrow the bike so that I could ride in stead of walk or run. It turns out that my memory of how to get to B and G was less than perfect, which led me to a journey with many stops and head swings. Swinging back and forth my head was looking for familiar land marks. It is beautiful being outside in Japan. Even though it is very humid, you are surrounded by awe and magnificence. The distance is painted with mountains and to each side are fields of rice stalks swaying in the wind. It’s quiet and the only sound is the wind brushing by my ears and hair as I ride the bike. It feels good to be physically active, after many long and delicious meals. I rode faster and harder. Swerving around corners, I am reminding of my motorcycle back home. There is a mirroring freedom of riding each. Riding the bike in Japan is one of complete ecstasy. I don’t have a solid idea of where I am headed, just a faint belief in the direction I need to head. There really isn’t a curfew or watch I am following. The only pressing measure is how long it will be before I meet up with Minami.
I slowly walked into the gym and walked towards the woman working at the front desk. We exchanged hellos, or should I say konnichiwas? After spouting off some Japanese I quickly said Nihongo Wakalimasen( I don’t understand Japanese). She giggled, and included other employees on the calamity. Knowing the same feeling, trying to provide a service to someone who couldn’t speak the required language, I held back my amusement. I was more focused on remaining calm, and not prolonging the obscurity of the whole ordeal. She put two half sheets of paper in front of me, one yellow, one white, both with Japanese characters on them. She managed to squeeze out, name, address, and phone. I believe it was my intuition that told me what went where, but it was our telepathic communication that carried the consensus across. My name was easy to remember, but scurried through my memory to write down the address. I had to look through the phone Minami’s family provided for me to write down a phone number. After that a man took control of my introduction to the gym. There was a small area in front of the desk that was made of brick This is where I correctly guessed was the line to take off one’s shoes. I carried my sandals over to a locker, where the man gave me a pair of lime green slippers to wear. He showed me passed a room with glass walls and inside were weights, machines, and treadmills. Directing me to the locker room, he showed me where an available locker was; no. 251, and then demonstrated how to get the key from the locker door. From then on he let me grab my ‘training shoes,’ which I forgot to add, every one knew how to say, since they kept asking to check for them. I can infer that separate shoes for different activities are necessary. Minami mentioned that I might have to bring in different shoes in addition to the shoes I was wearing when I arrived. Good thing I listened. The man, who had a shirt that read Takashima Swim School on the back, led me back to the glass room and handed me off to another guy who I would guess was in his late teens. He watched me put on my shoes and I asked him with one word if where I was putting my slippers was a correct place-- Hai?
There I was. I had made it to the gym, in a small country town, where my features stood out like a mountain amongst a field of grass. My mind began to chuckle. My face maintained a blank stare halfway between a straight face and a smirk. It is all too amusing, knowing what is going through others’ minds when you walk through a room, but having no idea how to express any expression back to these others. So I did what any man in any country all over the world would do, I went to the gym and began working out. For some reason I was being watched by the employee I was handed off to. Maybe he assumed I didn’t know what weights and machines were. He showed me proper technique, and after 20-30 reps of his approval, I got off the leg press machine. From that point on, he eyed me from a watchful distance. Again, the physical exertion felt good. To empty the muscle’s anxiety and adrenaline into one big swoosh of elegant motion lifting metal weights was almost as tranquil as the bike ride. I’ve never been a muscle head or a gym-zombie, but this moment just felt right. As I went through the simplest of training routines, just trying to focus on a burn different than the burning desire to communicate, my new friend kept approaching me with different questions. “Where… from?” I said “Watashiha American desu. Miami.” He looked puzzled after I said Miami. I thought of how could I explain where Miami was. “Uh. Florida.” Nothing “Disney World. Mickey Mouse.” He finally got it. A few moments later he asked “How old… you?” If his English was funny, my attempt at replying in Japanese was even more funny--- “ni-san” which roughly translates to two-three. “Huh? Ni-ju-san?” he excitedly questioned. I concurred. He rustled back to an even younger kid. He seemed to be sharing this info with the few others that were in the room, which included an older woman and an older man. I would say these individuals were in their 50-60s. From that point on, I knew I was a novelty. Hereyee hereyee come see the whitey; he is tall, he is huge, hereyee hereyee. I ate up the quiet attention. As I finished and was taking off my ’training shoes’ and putting on the green slippers, my watchman approached one last time, but now along with the younger kid.” What….hmm… do? Job?” I replied with “Teacher. Sensei. Science Teacher.” They loved it. The next question--- how tall? I knew they weren’t going to be familiar with feet so I said “ I know you know centimeters and meters, but I know it in feet.” He replied “10 FEET!??!?!” oh no I thought, he is going to tell every one he met an American from Disney World who was 10 feet tall. I quickly said “no no.” and then tried to convert inches to centimeters. They were impressed with the final number, nonetheless.
I changed for the pool next. I knew if the gym was going to be a shock to people there, then my presence at the pool would send at least one person into cardiac arrest. When I stepped on the deck, I was relieved that all were in relatively good shape and no CPR was necessary. It is a requirement that everyone wear a swim cap while in the pool. This is so even for men. Minami’s parents prepared me with one of theirs: A bright yellow clothe cap that has SHIMODA written in permanent black marker across the front. By the way, I know that I am making a great impression for the Shimoda family all over town. Anyway, the swim was great as well and I ended it with a dip in the Jacuzzi.
The ride back was more confusing than the ride there. I couldn’t remember if I was riding towards the mountains or away from them. I accidentally missed the turn to Katsuno, the street the house is on, and drove by Ko Me Ri, a garden store. I rode around the parking lot, tossing around the idea of stopping and going in. I decided to try my luck at finding some seeds. I found the seed rack and picked out Suika, Japanese watermelon, which the outside shell is a deep rich green and the inside a thick blood red. I’ve yet to have some, but have heard and thought it looks delicious. I also picked up a package of Edamame, edible soy bean pods that are a hit in the U.S. The total was around 500 yen. I rode back, proud of my purchase. I began to enjoy the ride again, but was parched from all the heat and activity. I stopped at what I know now is a coke machine directly next to the house, but didn’t know it at the time. I got a coke zero, which happened to be my first soft drink, since my departure from the U.S. I kept riding looking for the Shimoda house. I got to the giant Gulliver next to train station. I stopped and drank my the rest of my coke. Still sitting on the bike, I basked in the sun. The rays baked over the evening sky and warmed my face and arms.
I rode back home and showed my seeds to the family. They all thought it a joke, but I was still proud. Minami‘s mom said “Shall we make Mochi?” She knew I wanted to learn how to make it. Mochi is made from rice flower and is a soft treat. I awkwardly mixed together the ingredients and sloppily made the mochi balls. A popular desert topping here is Anko, a red bean paste. Another is kinako, which is powder from soy beans. We put some on the mochi to make sure it was ok, since I made it. It was.
I went back to Gulliver 30 minutes later to meet a tired and hot Minami. It had been a long day for her, but instead of going directly home, she showed me a nearby lake. We walked back through a hospital parking lot. Takashima looks like an old town. If I were to explain it in any terms understandable, I think of town with deep traditional roots, but a string of ties with modern amenities. Buildings still look old and the business buildings look run down and out of date. I am aware that this comes of as critical, but is just an attempt to describe with words, something that cannot be unless seen for one’s self. It is undoubtedly a beautifully quaint town.
Minami worked only a few short hours on Sunday, and I spent it with her parents. I enjoy the time I spend with them. It is a relationship, where pressure and misunderstanding could corrupt, but is immense with a rhythmic simplistic nature. We spend time eating. I ask what this is, or what that is. I pour the tea. We say things taste good and struggle to speak in a language that is understandable with one another. They are happy and laughing. I am not sure if it is mutual, but I will miss our time together, when I leave.
I spent the first part of the day learning Japanese with Cheiko. She taught me new verbs and I asked questions the best I could. Her dad peered in from the shop. listening to our jokes about food or cleaning. At some point, he came in with an entire octopus. I had never seen one like that in real life, and to be honest… I wanted to go over and touch it. Instead, I replied with” Tako.. Tako ga suki desu ( I like octopus). Minami’s parents are going to Nagoya in a few weeks with friends. They are going to be eating tako and also going to another onsen. I believe this may be the reason why we were talking about octopus. Etsuo cooked up some noodles and takoyaki. This is octopus meet in side of a round fried dumpling. It has an amazing taste and a great texture. Only her dad and I ate this course. Etsuo loves food. His taste is only for the best foods. I believe I am learning a lot from this, because I am used to KFC, then Church’s chicken, and if I get tired of these two, I go to Popeye’s chicken. All three supply delicious, cheap, soul food, but not the great rare flavors that I am enjoying now.
Aftering eating, I stepped into the shop to look around. I watched Minami’s dad cut up fish and prepare a plate of sashimi. This plate was an order of 7-8 types of fish worth about 50 dollars. He is a master at cutting fish. I met Minami at 3:30.
Monday, Minami went to school early. It was a rainy day and I was going to meet up with her in Shijo area of Kyoto, where there are shops. Wednesday was going to be a big party for Minami and 23 of her friends. It was all the friends from junior high to high school. All one big group of friends. I was the only guy invited. Monday she had to go shopping to pick up party stuff and some gifts for three girls who have July birthdays. After trenching through the rain, I made it to the Shijo area and cooled off in a shopping mall. I sat there for at least 30 minutes until I regained my wind to go exploring again. It took about an hour to get to where I was, so venturing off in the rain took some motivation. Minami was shopping with her friend Minami. I know, same name. I wanted them to do the girl thing together, which let me explore the area. I met up with them shortly and we stopped at a coffee shop for further Wednesday night planning. Minami was very nice, but didn’t speak English. So I am assuming that her smiles were kindness.
After saying bye to the other Minami, who works at GAP in Shijo, we walked to Hokoku shrine. It was a possible place for our wedding ceremony. It was further away than expected. It was still raining. Minami and I huddled under one small umbrella, with her big purse, my shoulder bag, and a big bag full of party supplies. The part supply bag was made of paper… I knew it wasn’t going to last if it got wet. We made it to the shrine. At first glance, it took my breathe away, at second glance I was speechless. I know this makes it sound good, but how can I find words to describe the moment when something feels perfectly right. I wonder how I find words to write any of these blogs, since they are of moments that seem perfectly right as well. The recount of happenings and memories, I hope are able to mirror the experiences themselves. We walked back to Kyoto station. Dripping wet from sweat and rain, we made it inside. There was about 30 minutes of time before the next train, so Minami suggested we get some takoyaki. The little fast food store was only big enough for a few chairs inside. Customers could watch the employees make the takoyaki. They used little skewers and went through a series of steps to finish a completed ball of takoyaki. Minami and I shared 6 and a soda. It was only a snack until we got home. Oh.. and yes the bag with the party supplies did break.