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.