 |
| Sasebo Station, Japan - Google Maps |
I did visit Fukuoka and walked around for a day, alone. I was so happy with the kindness of the people. At one point I got turned around and didn't know how to get back to my starting point. I had taken the precaution of writing its location on a piece of paper. I politely stopped a couple of pedestrians and showed them the paper. They spent a few moments trying out their few words of English. At the time I knew no Japanese at all. Oh, maybe "Aregato." They drew me a little map, very detailed, smiled, bowed, I bowed back and we separated. They have no doubt forgotten that. I have not. I also visited Arita, the famous ceramic producing place. We walked around there all day. This was some 45 years ago. All I remember is that it was a long and impressive day. I never had seen a ceramic shop before, so as the day went on, I began to feel a little more familiar with the process. At the time Arita was renowned for its "spaghetti" style ceramic creations. There was an array of products that contained a solid bowl or pitcher within a "cocoon" of spiraling ceramic "strings" springing from the bottom and rejoining near the top. Try as I might, I could not find a picture of any of this product on Google. I think my relatives in Massachusetts may still have the souvenirs that I bought for my mother.
The real reason why I am writing this is not so much because it is August 6, but because since I was so wrapped up in producing a thought for Hiroshima, I kept running back to a memory that has never waned. It is the memory of the top of the cliff overlooking the naval base. The picture at the top is only the second part of my memory. The first part can't be seen in the photo. It is the memory of hundreds of motorcycles parked, unguarded, at the wide place in the road meant for such "storage." The employees of the naval base would park their motorcycles at the top of the cliff and then walk down to their work station. Far down. The expensive helmets [yes, 45 years ago they had a helmet law in Japan] were hanging on the handle bars, sometimes two helmets. I wonder now, with some humor, if they did that to qualify for the "carpool lane." Why do I tell you this? Please allow me to answer my own question with another question: "Would you do that in the United States? In the Philippines? In Naples? The answer, of course, is "No." Well, 45 years ago, they did it every single day of the workweek in Sasebo, Japan.
Finally, my friend, a navy chaplain, took me to the Fukuoka airport and I boarded a plane headed for Osaka. Along the way, we were served a Bento Box lunch. The man seated next to me, patiently and gently showed me how to eat the contents. He even made sure that I had a can of beer to go with my meal!
I have a few more experiences of things that have happened to me in Japan, but you'll have to ask me some other time. Maybe we can talk about Tokyo, the subway, the "shinkansen" and Niigata, the home of the best Sake in the world...and its water front...almost like Gloucester, but...
Hey, that's too many thoughts for one piece.
I forgot the FOOD!
The real reason why I am writing this is not so much because it is August 6, but because since I was so wrapped up in producing a thought for Hiroshima, I kept running back to a memory that has never waned. It is the memory of the top of the cliff overlooking the naval base. The picture at the top is only the second part of my memory. The first part can't be seen in the photo. It is the memory of hundreds of motorcycles parked, unguarded, at the wide place in the road meant for such "storage." The employees of the naval base would park their motorcycles at the top of the cliff and then walk down to their work station. Far down. The expensive helmets [yes, 45 years ago they had a helmet law in Japan] were hanging on the handle bars, sometimes two helmets. I wonder now, with some humor, if they did that to qualify for the "carpool lane." Why do I tell you this? Please allow me to answer my own question with another question: "Would you do that in the United States? In the Philippines? In Naples? The answer, of course, is "No." Well, 45 years ago, they did it every single day of the workweek in Sasebo, Japan.
Finally, my friend, a navy chaplain, took me to the Fukuoka airport and I boarded a plane headed for Osaka. Along the way, we were served a Bento Box lunch. The man seated next to me, patiently and gently showed me how to eat the contents. He even made sure that I had a can of beer to go with my meal!
I have a few more experiences of things that have happened to me in Japan, but you'll have to ask me some other time. Maybe we can talk about Tokyo, the subway, the "shinkansen" and Niigata, the home of the best Sake in the world...and its water front...almost like Gloucester, but...
Hey, that's too many thoughts for one piece.
I forgot the FOOD!
No comments:
Post a Comment