Loving the A-bomb Dome

Hiroshima is one of the two cities that the USA dropped an atomic bomb on in 1945. At first impressions, the city is quite international with a lot of tourists buzzing around. Being tired, dirty, and hungry, I got busy looking for a place to stay. I opted for a cheap hostel near the Peace Park and A-Bomb Dome. With a lot to see, I planed on being in the city for at least 2 days. to give myself time to regroup and energize.

After wolfing down some tsukemen, noodles in spicy sauce with pork, I checked into the hostel at 3, showered, and fell into a deep sleep. I woke around 7 and strolled through Peace Park on my way to an Internet cafe. The A-bomb dome is looms at the north end of the park just to the left of the epicenter of the blast. The park surprisingly flat and has more concrete than plant life and is much different than Nagasaki's, which is a labrynth of hills and greenery.

The flat expanse of concrete and stone has a river bisecting it and park benches and grass toard the periphery. Besides the skelleton structure of the A-bomb domb, the most eye catching landmarks are the love hotels flickering toward the edges of the park. Lovers converge on the river to sit on the benches and hold hands. I found the park to be very romantic and warming at night. The irony of future romance and love making taking place near an epicenter of destructive history was quite uplifting. Like the A-bomb dome, the park is both haunting and heart warming.

I'll take my time tomorrow to go to the museum and catch up on the history of Hiroshima after getting more of those noodles for lunch!

King Kong!

The sun was now above the tree line and beating down on my exposed skin. Sweat beaded up on my skin and my shirt dampened. Standing in a good location near a gas stand and the freeway entrance, quite a few slowed but to read my sign but quickly speed of when considering Hiroshima too far a destination. I was in good spirits, however, and new that someone would eventually come along.

At the gas station across the way, travelers would eye my sign, squinting as they tried to make out the kanji. About the time some green tea and a shade break sounded appealing, a lean and well groomed man in a white Toyota Land Cruiser waved me over. After discussing the destination, he cleared some things in the car making room for my presence.

Indemu-san was a very quite man. It might have been his personality or my lack of Japanese that made for a quite drive. The inside of the newer cruiser was adorned with fishing figurines, car figurines, and some odds and ends. I tried a few different strategies to start conversation, but all I got were vague responses: What do yo do for a living? I work in Kagoshima and travel to Osaka. What are you doing this summer? Going here and there. Where are you going? North.

The only thing that got him talking were the figurines in the car. He liked to fish. There was also a figure of a King Kong with a woman in his fist. I asked if the girl in King Kong's fist was his girlfriend and if he liked the movie...He laughed and said, "Sure...take the figure back to the USA." He told me to open the glove box and he took out another King Kong stamp he had

stashed there.

We stopped once at the bridge linking Kyushu and Honshu islands. I bought a couple souvenirs, and he offered to take my photo with the bridge in the background. Leaving the viewing area and with little conversation, my eye lids turned to lead. I dozed off for the last 3 hours to Hiroshima. I woke once to catch an amazing sight of Mine-shi, Japan. It is an emerald green area of hills, woodland, and rice fields. Spread out among the fields were very large, nice Japanese style houses with orange and shiny clay roof tiles.

At the rest area, he took my bag from the car and gave me a paper fan to keep cool in the heat. I wasn't sure how to thank hims, so I bought him some cold tea he seemed to be enjoying during the drive.

Canned Coffee

It was six in the morning, having a ride in no time. Still wiping the sleep from his eyes, a driver who resembled a cross between my good friend Elmer and his brother Ray, picked me up, telling me he couldn't take me more than an hour up the road.

As I opened the door to my first Japanese delivery truck, a pile of shoes and canned coffee fell out. Takayuki-san grabbed my pack and threw it in the middle of the truck. The odd amount of shoes in the tuck and general garbage, made it difficult to get comfortable. It was obvious he didn't have many passengers. He skipped all the formalities and was interested in my image of Japan before coming and now. I described how, as a kid, I thought the Japanese always wore samurai or geisha attire and played video games for a living. He laughed and launched into baseball, the national sport. He enjoyed hearing about the San Francisco Giants, Oakland Athletics, and Seattle Mariners. As he told me about his family, how he should have been a famous soccer star, and that if he weren't married, he'd retire in Okinawa, I was convinced he was the Japanese version of Ray Arana. He seemed very proud of his son, who was the budding star at a university in Kumamoto.

Just before 7 we arrived at a rest area and I nearly down from the truck. He quickly shot off toward the toilet, so I decided to forgo the photo and headed toward the exit to set up.

As I was getting my pack propped up in a shady spot, the honk of his truck startled me. Passing by, he tossed me a canned coffee out the window and waved. I snapped a photo, cracked open the coffee, and felt my spirit begin to lift.

A Long Night

After seeing off Ms. Hino, I headed to the bathroom to wash up and then went into the convenience store to get a snack. I figured I'd have a ride in to time, so I took about an hour to stretch, eat, and walk around for a bit. Boy I was wrong!

As soon as I got the sign out, I had nothing but power walkers. One guy even tripped as he tried to look away from me, catching the first step with awkward timing. Repositioning myself in a few different places didn't produce any results. It was now close to 2:30 am and all the truckers were fast asleep or couldn't be bothered with a traveler at this time.

The best thing to do was catch a little sleep myself. I was very hesitant to just sprawl out in the parking area, but thought I'd better get my practice now. I brought a tent, sleeping pad, and sleeping bag with me in case of an emergency like this. I opted to find a secluded space and just use my sleeping bag and pad. I found a spot between some hedges and a line of trees in an unlit area and set up my mini camp. I put my pad down, wedged my pack between my body and the hedges, and climbed in my sleeping bag. It was a cool evening and all I could hear were crickets and the running of refrigerated trucks. It would have been a great sleep, except for the mosquitoes and dani (a sort of flea) biting at my wrists and knuckles. I set my cellphone alarm for 6 am and somehow managed to get 4 hours of restless sleep. The wafting smell of dog crap and passing car lights would wake me every hour or so until finally at 5 am an unexpected guest decided it was time I get up. A three legged dog appeared and stood about 5 yards away. He incessantly barked at me, making me nervous. I cautiously stood up and packed my things up. He was quite skittish and ran away as soon as I walked toward the bathroom to wash my face and check my stuff for dog poo that might have been hidden in the grass where I lay.

After stretching and giving my back a good crack, Sapporo seemed a far off place with the sleep and ache remaining in my core. I sat at a table eating an early snack, drinking some veggie juice, and hoping that my good spirit would return. No one wants to pick up a person with a scowl on their face.

As the sun was rising just behind the tree line, the brown, 3 legged mutt stood in the middle of the parking area barking, irritated by everything. The traffic began to pick up and a patrol car cruised the parking lot, sending the mutt off through a hole in the fence.

It was also time for me to get on my way. I wrote out my sign and headed over to the rest stop exit.

Gyu and Uga

I wasn't at the next rest area for more than 10 minutes before I noticed a promising vulture circling where I was sitting. This time it was a middle aged woman walking her two dogs. She wasn't trying to hide the fact that she was reading my sign; it seemed she didn't know how to break the ice, so I did. After telling her good evening in Japanese, she asked me if the Fukuoka was OK. We got into the car and she put her two terriers, Gyu and Uga, in the back with my pack. She told me her dogs were surprisingly quiet for me being a stranger, so I must be I nice guy. I didn't say much at first and was shocked at how brave she was, a woman traveling alone and picking up a foreign traveler.

After the formalities, Ms. Hino broke off into quite a conversation for a one hour drive. We talked about traveling, home brewing, organic food, her daughter, and cooking. She had traveled to America many times and visited Paul Newman's house, falling in love with him and organic food. She was a chef at a restaurant in Fukuoka and had a daughter studying English in Vancouver, Canada. She was literally on the edge of her seat, excited to asking me questions and giving me advice about food in Japan. She was nice enough to offer to make me a reservation at a cheap hotel in Fukuoka and drop me off there. It was around 11 o'clock, I had been traveling fast, so I asked her told her I wanted to shoot for Hiroshima, so a rest stop with a lot of traffic would be best. We stopped at a very large rest stop with a 24 hour convenience store and a lot of long-haul trucks. After she pointed out where each truck was headed, we exchanged goodbyes. I asked her if I could have her photo just before she hopped back into her car. She shyly asked me if I would take one of the dogs instead.

The voyage begins, honestly

Fretting as I walked up to the rest area, I tried to develop a good strategy where safely sit and get the most views. It was now dark, after 7, and there wasn't much traffic at the rest stop. All the food stands that gather traveler's attention were closed, so the only well lit place was in front of the toilets, vending machines, or at a gas station on the other side of the parking area. The exit wasn't lit just after the gas station, so I thought it was too dangerous to stand over there. Though the toilets were getting the heaviest traffic and were bright, I thought it would be a bit suspicious for me to be loitering where people where about to do some private business. The lights were flickering on and off, giving the bathroom entrance a creepy feeling. No other places, so in front of the vending machines it was.

I sat on a bench by the smoking area, propped up my bag, and started flashing my sign. There was a caravan of 3 families in the same area. As I tried to figure which facial expression would work get me a ride the fastest, hopeless traveler, happy go lucky, or super excited happy guy, the children started to play a game to see who could throw something closest to me grab it and run away. The were playing directly behind me, so I couldn't see their faces; but by the sounds of their squeals, they were having a good time. One got brave enough to actually hit me with his sandal.

Sitting there showing my sign, I began to notice some interesting behavior from the people around me. Some would stare at me in curiosity, some would turn into power walkers and try their hardest to not look at me and get by as fast as possible without getting bit, and others would swoop around me like vultures, acting like they were looking at something by my feet or on the light post above my head. I had been sitting there for about 20 minutes when one of the vultures decided to swoop in and ask me if Kumamoto was far enough. It sure was!

His name was Mr. Shiraishi and was traveling with his wife, son, and daughter. They were traveling in a sleek van decked out with all the electronic gizmos: electric doors, DVD screens, cameras for the front and back, and a GPS system. Just as I packed my bag in and hopped in the front, I heard the daughter, around 20 years old, ask her father if it was safe. He didn't answer.

We got in the car, and his wife started off with the usual formalities. Can you speak Japanese? Where are you from? What do you think of Japan? Mr. Shiraishi turned out to be a postman on summer holiday. He and his family had driven down to Kagoshima for the day to go to the beach and see Mt. Sakurajima. After 20 minutes and formalities, everyone seemed to have relaxed. After deciding I wasn't a killer, they began to ask me interesting questions. The moon was orange and full that night, painting the night with an eerie sensation. They asked if I was afraid of hitch hiking, and if I would do it in America. They also wondered if I had ever seen a Japanese ghost. I told them that the only Japanese ghost I had ever seen where in Japanese horror films, such as The Ring and Juon. The dad said I looked tired and encouraged me to take a nap if I'd like. Since they were more like the Brady bunch and less like the Munsters, I took him up on his offer. I chuckled to myself as I dozed of; The mother was giving her recently married son advice on how to get his wife pregnant. He didn't seem to receptive.

We made great time. I woke up after a 2 hour snooze just as we got into the Kumamoto rest area. It was a new rest stop with a lot traffic, giving me high hopes for catching another ride. I got out, had their son snap a photo, and we wished each other luck.

My second ride and first mistake :-(

Mai-chan took me to a convenience store to get some last minute food supplies, green tea and onegiri (rice balls with stuffed with your choice of filling), and dropped me off at the on ramp to the Expressway headed toward northern Kyushu. I decided to loiter just before the highway entrance where travelers in their cars have to grab toll cards.

I stood on a wide shoulder by an emergency parking area just after the north and south bound traffic merged. It was about 6 o'clock and the sun was beginning to set to my back, making it difficult for drivers to read my 'Fukuoka Direction, Please' cardboard sign. The cars were going surprisingly fast and didn't have a lot of time to slow down, which worried me. At the sight of me and trying to read the sign, drivers began to drive erratically, swerve toward and away from me, often forgetting to check for merging traffic. In about 10 minutes, however, 3 cars slowed and almost picked me up, but realized I was going the opposite way. My hopes were still high since it was rush hour, and I had almost caught a ride so quickly. After about 20 minutes, the rush slowed, and I had caught the eye of the safety police. Just as I was starting to panic and worry Fukuoka was too far a destination to ask for, I heard a honk and turned to see a green Volvo parked in the emergency area just behind me.

Yosh! I ran up to the car, placed my stuff in the back seat, and said as many polite things as I could remember in Japanese. As we drove through the toll gate, the conversation started right away and I got busy listening to him and looking for things that might be suspicious (I've seen a lot of horror films). He told me he was a traveling business man and often traveled from Tokyo to Kagoshima. He came off as real genuine and had all this Buddhist imagery in his car, so I started to let the images of an axe murder go. Before I could get his name, I asked what kind of business he would be attending in Fukuoka. He said, "Oh, I don't have any business in Fukuoka. I'm headed toward Kagoshima." I broke into a sweat and his expression went blank. We had made a mistake. I was going the wrong direction on a one way Expressway.

He quickly found a service area where I could exit and get to traffic going the other way. I wanted to take his photo because he was my first real ride, but I was too embarrassed to bother him anymore. I could tell he wanted to get on his way. First lessons learned and note to self: stand in a safe place and make sure you confirm the direction before getting in the car.

Bound for Fukuoka! Thanks Mai-chan

My first ride is cheating a bit because Oyama Mai, known to the ALTs as Mai-chan, gave me a ride from Sata to the Expressway, which is about a two hour drive north. I got a late start tying things up in Sata, so she helped me make up some lost time. She has been a good friend of mine while living in Japan and has always been willing to give ALTs a hand. She speaks English very well, so I didn't get to practice much Japanese. I did, however, learn the Japanese word for cardboard, danboru. She also helped me write the Japanese kanji for the city Fukuoka and word for direction.

On our way to the freeway, she told me that she thought I'd forever live in Japan and start a business somewhere in larger city since I enjoyed living here so much. In the two hours it took to get to the Expressway, we talked about how living abroad is difficult because you develop emotions and ties in both places and learn to love two countries equally. Mai-chan lived in Vancouver, Canada for a year and studied cosmetology. Besides working with horses in some fashion, her main dream was to become a makeup artist for films and work and live in Canada. However, she decided that it would better suit her interests to come home and help her aging parents with their gift shop, Meruhen. She still dreams about having an international life style, so she is studying Chinese with the hope to use it in future business pursuits. I told her that she can become a cosmetologist for horses in movies someday if she really wanted. Ganbatte ne!

One Voyage Ends Another Begins

As most of you have realized, I stopped writing publicly about my feelings and experiences while living in Japan. I couldn't possibly list all the reasons that caused my apathy toward the blog because I don't fully understand why I stopped either. I think it boiled down to issues of privacy, frustrations and insecurities about my writing, and frustrations and insecurities about myself.

In short, I'm going to return to California at the end of August to continue my future in the field of education. To celebrate my great experience here and bring some closer, my final hurrah will be to hitch hike from my hometown, the southern most region of mainland Japan, to Sapporo Japan, which is the largest city on the northern most island of mainland Japan. I am leaving July 30th and hoping to arrive in Sapporo within a week's time. In all, I have given myself two weeks to hitch hike to Sapporo then return to Nagoya where I fly back to Kagoshima. The plan is to keep things as simple as possible, see as many points of interest as I can, travel cheaply, and meet some nice people along the way.