Sayonara, Part II

And a later date it is. The whole point of my story is now moot. I was trying to explain how my return tickets were for different days. I was to fly out of Miyazaki on August 13 and then out of Nagoya on the 16th. But, as it turns out, I was able to get a flight back to the states right away, so no dillydallying in Nagoya for me – thank goodness!

I suppose that wraps up my trip to Japan. My last week was spent hanging out in Miyakonojo and taking some daytrips with Luke. This adventure culminated in the biggest festival of the year, the Bonchi Matsuri (they must have known I was leaving!). For such an occasion, Luke and I decided to wear traditional Japanese clothing – a yukata, or summer kimono, for me, and a jimbe for Luke.

I was fitted for a yukata at a local kimono shop with some help from Yasue. After trying on a few different patterns, I settled on a dark red robe covered in sakura, or cherry blossoms, and a marigold obi belt.

In preparation for the festival, I put my hair up, as you’re traditionally supposed to do, and left plenty of time to get dressed. I thought it would take me a while to arrange the yukata and conquer the challenge of tying the obi belt, but I managed fine, and we were off to the matsuri.

Luke arranged for us to dance in the parade with the Miyakonojo International Association. We had about 10 minutes to learn the two dances, which no one in the group was really able to pick up. It involved a fan, fancy footwork and a bunch of clapping. I wasn’t too worried, though, as we were in a sea of people, so no one would notice if we were out of step.

I attempted to dance for a little while, but eventually resorted to just sort of walking in the back while fanning myself, running off to the side, every now and then, to snap a photo of Luke looking totally perplexed as he tried to follow the dance leader.

After the parade, we sampled all the festival food and watched performances and drumming in the streets. It was a fantastic way to cap off my trip.

On Sunday, I bought a few last minute souvenirs and packed up before heading out for my last taste of real Japanese sushi – for a while anyway.

But no worries, I think there is more Japan in my future – hopefully sooner than later.

Sayonara, Part I

This entry finds me sitting on the floor at Nagoya Chubu International Airport. I flew in from Miyazaki this morning, and now I’m waiting for a United agent to show up and decide my fate.

You see, when I booked this crazy trip, it was a little last minute and I didn’t have many travel dates to choose from since I used miles to buy my ticket. Luke arranged for my flights between Nagoya and Miyazaki, also using miles. My return tickets . . .

(And, I’ve just been asked to remove my plug from the outlet. For some reason, they don’t want me plugged in and have actually sent someone to tell me so. I wonder how long, first of all, it took for them to muster the confrontational skills to decide I needed to be told to unplug, and then to find someone to translate into English. Hard to say. But, as I’m about to run my battery, this will have to resume at a later date.)

Do you like Kentucky?

At about 10 o’clock on Saturday morning, my new Japanese friends, Shiho and Ichan, picked Luke and me up for our shopping excursion to Kagoshima. Shiho drives a white Toyota 4Runner with a spoiler – an unusual addition to an SUV, I thought, until we got on the expressway and Shiho proved, at high speed, why she probably needs such an accessory.

Anyhow, we drove about an hour and half, making chitchat, via Luke. I asked them what they were shopping for – Shiho, a watch, and Ichan, new clothes. We also talked a little about music and work, all the while learning new words in each other’s languages.

When we go to Kagoshima, we made our way to a big mall connected to the station. And thus, six hours of shopping commenced.

The malls here are interesting in that, the stores aren’t really defined. Everything is in kind of an open space with vague partitions. It all sort of runs together. This mall, according to the girls was pretty good, but we would be going somewhere later for a better clothing selection – I could only hope.

Admittedly, I was not inspired to buy much, clothing-wise, at this mall. You see, the apparel here . . . how can I say this? Sucks? And I say this objectively. I think that empirically, anyone would find that when material, quality and style are all factored in, clothing in Japan leaves a lot to be desired. Not to mention that it’s expensive. Even if I had found something I sort of liked, I probably wouldn’t have made a purchase, because I could find something more my style at home, for a lot less.

So, I held out for mall number two. In the meantime, I did find a good Engrish t-shirt and actually almost bought a winter hat, deterred only by the fact that it was real fur and real pricey.

Sometime near the end of our stint at mall number one, Ichan approached me, and in her best English, asked, “Do you like Kentucky?”

“What?” I said, thinking, does she mean the state. And then quickly concluding that there’s no way she knows what Kentucky is, much less enough about it to inquire after my opinion.

She asked again as Luke came over, switching to Japanese so he could translate. Turns out she was asking me if I liked Kentucky Fried Chicken. I don’t, but I said I did, because it is too hard to say, “no,” in this culture.

And that is how I found myself eating lunch at KFC in Kagoshima, Japan. It wasn’t too bad, actually. But the portions were significantly smaller than in America. And as my teeny, tiny Japanese friends struggled to consume their bite-size sandwiches and small order of fries, I was begging Luke to go up and order more for me. In the end, I resorted to finishing Ichan’s fries.

After lunch we made our way to mall number two, where the supposedly better selection of clothes was waiting. That is, a better selection, if you spend most evenings lurking on dark street corners. And, I don’t say that to be mean at all. My Japanese friends are totally charming and adorable – not at all slutty. I guess they just pull off the style.

Needless to say I didn’t find anything here, though Shiho desperately tried to get my foot crammed into a pair of sparkly, emerald stilettos – bless her heart (they really wanted me to find something cool, I think).

The highlight of the day definitely came when Luke and I saw a very pregnant woman contemplating the purchase of a shirt that, in no uncertain terms, declared the wearer was a fellatio fanatic. It was pretty unbelievable.

About five or six hours passed before we called it a day. And a day it was. Luke, unaccustomed to shopping, was totally wiped. As was I. For Shiho and Ichan, it seemed par for the course. They were totally unfazed by that many hours spent browsing racks of the latest styles.

On the way home, we listened to Destiny’s Child’s greatest hits, and chatted a little more, but I think we were all tired of trying to communicate in another language. So, they gabbed in the front seat about who knows what, while Luke and I contemplated the repercussions of Barry Bonds’ upcoming home run.

Lowrider

It turns out the Lowrider knows no bounds. While the sight of this is common enough in Colorado, I never expected to see a shiny white truck, decorated with Mexican flags, glide by, just inches above the ground, in Miyakonojo. They don’t even have Mexican food here, and if you tried to order a margarita, the bartender would look at you like you had three heads.

Not to mention, it was captained by two Japanese dudes. Pioneers of this Mexican-American phenomenon, I guess, who might as well have been cruising the streets of L.A. or San Diego.

Thankfully, they were oblivious to the gaijin girl (me) chasing them down the street to get a picture. Not that they would have done anything about it anyway – the might drive the car, but the attitude is far behind.

Coastal Tour

Luke’s international driving permit is about to expire, and because he’s staying in Japan for another year, he has to get an actual Japanese driver’s license. Basically, he has to make like he’s 16 again and take driving lessons and a test. It’s a long, drawn out, inconvenient and expensive process for a foreigner to get licensed to drive in this country, requiring several trips to Miyazaki city and lots of yen. It sucks for Luke, but for me it means extra trips to the beach and the crazy Japanese shopping mall.

One such visit to Miyazaki city for this whole licensing debacle led to a trip to Mos Burger, “Fine Japanese Burger and Coffee.” (This so-called fast food actually involved a 20-minute wait at the window for our teriyaki burgers, fries and shakes, and yes they do screw up orders just as badly here as they do in the States.) After which we began a long drive down the Southern Coast of Kyushu. Luke’s Coastal Tour remains one of the best parts of my trip so far. We stopped at a secret swimming hole where we jumped off rocks into the ocean, and wandered around looking at tide pools. Then we found a shrine hidden deep in a valley next to a beautiful waterfall. And finally we visited Cape Toi, the home of a herd of wild horses. All along the way we saw monkeys hanging by the roadside and more hawks than I could count gliding just above.

I still can’t believe how tropical and exotic this part of Japan is. It’s such a contrast to the concrete Jungle that is Tokyo.
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On my next visit to Miyazaki city, Luke dropped me at the Starbucks while he attended a driving lesson. Yes, that’s right, Starbucks. Globalization finally reared its ugly head (first time this trip!), and I found myself drinking iced coffee under the all too familiar green sign. In my defense, I will say that I had a lot of work to do and not knowing the area, I decided this would be the most reliable option. In this part of Japan, there’s not exactly a thriving freelance culture, and therefore not many coffee shops catering to the needs of struggling writers and trust funders.

Anyhow, after I compromised my morals at Starbucks, we made a trip to the mall for ice cream and to shop for souvenirs and Engrish. No such luck, although it was kind of fun to see Japanese shopping mall culture. It’s basically the same as at home – families and teenagers killing time on a weekend afternoon.

This weekend I am going to the mall in Kagoshima to kick it with my new Japanese girlfriends. Luke, much to his chagrin, has to go along as my translator. I am really looking forward to it – should be interesting to experience an outing with the girls, Japanese style.