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| Yumi's Massive Japan Attack: How Did I Get Here? |
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| Written by Yumi | |
| Wednesday, 02 May 2007 | |
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Ah, yes. The Friday morning after I arrived, I had the bright idea of going out for a walk to explore the neighborhood. I woke up a little early, but found that I was unable to go back to sleep, so I headed out the door and walked up to a familiar point, and then took off in what direction I think is south. I walked a long way in one direction, then a long way in another direction, and then I realized it was 9:30 in the morning. Many shops were still closed. I stopped in a couple konbini along the way to buy water and the like, but was convinced that I'd be able to find my way back to Asahi-cho. Then I ran into another street sign, only to realize that I somehow wandered into the next city over. I backtracked for a while, and then headed in another direction, eventually asking a man for the general direction of my school. He told me it was a long way away, which I gathered, but gave me a direction to walk. So I walked. I walked in that direction a long time. After maybe an hour I asked a mom I saw on the street with two kids for directions to the nearest train station, since I gave up on walking back. I needed to be back at the campus in the early afternoon, anyway. She pointed and gave me simple directions, as I was only a block or two from the train station. The first man was completely wrong, and for all I know, may have been trying to give me directions to the old campus, which is actually in the city. I took the train one stop back to my station, and scurried back to the campus, hoping for a nice rest before the orientation that afternoon. Again, I can't really say that the language barrier prevented much of anything. But then, I could understand the people who I asked for directions, so maybe that helps... I think the most overwhelming thing was just the realization that I'm not as self-sufficient as I'd like to think. It doesn't particularly help that in the month that I've lived here, I still can't tell north from south in this area. Before I managed to purchase a phone, which is quite a story in itself for another day, I was rather frightened to go out. The day that I ventured to one of the local Don Quijote, and yes, it's spelled with a "j" in Japan, to purchase my typical Japanese "old lady" bicycle was another day I became lost. Don Quijote, for those of you who haven't heard or the place before, is a large store where you can find, well, pretty much anything. The large one in the Namba area of Osaka even has a large Ferris wheel attached to the building. I went up on it last year, and happen to have the statistics for it with me; the "DONKI wonder wheel" has operated since March 17th, 2005, stands 77.4 meters tall, has 32 gondolas, maxes out at 4 people per gondola, and takes 15 minutes to complete a single rotation. And did I mention that they take your picture before you go up? Yes, Donki, as it's often referred to, has everything. I bought one of the cheaper red "old lady" bikes, complete with a basket, light, and registration and was able to leave while still paying under 10,000 yen. A colleague of mine found the mountain bike of his dreams, and we rode back to our home. Well, we attempted to. Neither of us had really been paying much attention when we walked with other people to Donki, so getting back was rather difficult. We inquired at a police box and were given directions, but somehow misunderstood them. After a while I figured out where we were, and just as we were asking a man for a little more help, we ran into a Japanese student from our school who was more than willing to help us find our way back to the campus, and our home. Sadly, I must say that this was not the most recent time that I've managed to become quite lost in my little suburban home. Just last Saturday I took it upon myself to ride my bicycle to the heart of the town that my address claims that I reside in. A fellow international student gave me vague, yet helpful directions to where I wanted to go. I followed them, but turned left a little too soon. Somehow, I found myself at the Tokyo Racetrack. There were horses inside. When I realized that I was at the horse track, and not anywhere near the Fuchu station of the Keio line, I left and found my way to where I wanted to be. Exhausted, I left my bike with a man whose sole job is to watch over the bicycles of the patrons of the mall right next to the station. It started to rain while I was inside. That morning had been completely clear and beautiful. The spastic weather here reminds me well of my home in the states, especially with the sudden onslaught of rain. I decided to leave before too long, and went outside to fetch my bicycle. It took me long enough to remember where I parked it, but when I did, I experienced some of the greatest kindness. I realize its part of the job, but the man who watches over the bicycles seemed genuinely concerned for me, and wiped the rain off of my bicycle before I hopped on it and left. Where I went after that is still a mystery to me. I took the wrong fat road. Again, the streets are nameless, so I really have no way of knowing where I went. After realizing that the schools that I was passing by were nothing like the sites I rode past on my way to the heart of Fuchu, I turned around and pedaled back. I inquired at a police box to make sure that the next fat road that I planned on taking would in fact take me in the right direction, and took off. Somewhere on the way back home, the battery in my mp3 player died, so the ladies of Chatmonchy no longer kept me company as I pedaled past countless pedestrians and was passed by countless other bicyclists. But I still made it home. I fell once when my tires slipped on the wet pavement, which could have been a problem due to the Japanese lack of helmets for people over the age of five, but I caught myself with only a slight nick to the shin. It's hardly a wound. Given that I still can't tell which direction the sun rises or sets in when I'm outside of my dorm, it's gotten far easier to navigate my way home. I think I'm adjusting. If not, well, there's a lot of trouble ahead. But really, I don't think of it as trouble. I think of it as part of the adventure. |
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