We ate lunch outside; Tanaka-san eats lunch like a kid from a third world country.
It was nice outside and so was standing in front of the great heavy metal gates of M-Wall. We opened up the place and started climbing.
Ochi showed up and sent a route I have been struggling with for weeks wearing nice jeans, a nice shirt, and dress socks. He is a spider! Later, Tanaka-san's friend Masuo and her older sister showed up fer some climbing. I started to get sweaty and tired so I stepped out of the gym.
Outside I talked to Shoko on the phone and looked over at my arm. A massive mosquito landed above my elbow and started to pump me for my money. I watched it swell then lazily swatted at it as my conversation ended. My finger held almost a full drop of red blood and from the other finger the mosquito limply fell to the ground. Ochi was leaving and I waved goodbye, he turned and drove towards my direction. I waved again and called out it was good seeing you, etc. But he stopped and asked what I was doing on Saturday. This man is lazy! I asked him if Shoko had talked to him about the party on Saturday night, and he said no. So I said you will find out. He started to say something else, but a car behind him honked at him so he waved his box of orange juice at me and drove off.
It got more and more crowded and a quite Saturday morning had churned into a bustling air-fanned noisy afternoon. It was a different crowd then that of the usual Tuesday or Friday nights but it was fresh and new. But I wasn't. I was beat. Swimming the other day near Hiroshima made me tired.
Shoko called me to ask me where the heck I was. I forgot! I was supposed to meet her at Adachi Art Museum in Matsue! I apologized but let her know I would be a little bit. She decided to wait but her friends had to leave so she introduced me on the phone. I talked to them for a little while, getting acquainted in mixed japanese, then english. Then I left the gym.
Where was Tanaka-san taking me? To the Adachi Bijitsukan- Matsue Museum of Art. It's a beautiful gray-cut building right alongside Shinji Lake. During the day you can look out the window and see wake boarders make mistakes and capsize into the water or you can step outside and walk along a trail of copper life-size rabbit statues to the water's end. If you stop to pet the one right before the last- the second to the last, they say you'll meet your lover soon. I poked the rabbit the other time I was there. Mie-san, the girl who took me to the museum the other week stroked the rabbit like she was desperate. I think she spent over 30 seconds petting this copper rabbit, selectively garnished with a flower necklace and coins galore at its feet. I chuckled inside. The Japanese make me laugh. What I like about the museum is three things.
First, it's right by the wondrously misty Shinji lake, where I enjoy biking to from Izumo. (Being out of breath after biking 30 km and staring at ducks in a fog-filled lake while panting and gulps of water makes one dreamy).
Second, and most importantly, the museum has one painting that I liked especially, that being "The Wild Sea" by Claude Monet. (I can stare at it for probably 10 minutes or more and still want to look again- black gray rocks much like Izumo's clashing with the waves. And as much as the waves beat up against the dark earth they are for the most part settling back out to home- the milky blue sea)
Thirdly, the museum is showcasing a special exhibit on Eric Carle, the famous children's illustrator that I grew up reading. That is where I was headed. To meet up with Shoko and see this man's handicraft.
back to today:
When we got to the museum it was around 4:45 and I felt like such a dope because I promised to come earlier. And I hadn't seen Shoko in like a whole week or longer. So I missed her and this was no way to treat a friend! The Eric Carle exhibit was too short. But also very natsukashii! I bought some more postcards. Japan is profiting from my massive purchase postcards, daily weekly regularly. I love these artsy postcards. I am an addict.
it was a weird but good night and here's why:
We waited for Shoko's sister to pick me up and take me to the train station. blah blah blah. poof I am at the train station. I had 40 minutes to kill and no book to read and overplayed songs on my 15-dollar mp3 player so I bought some dried squid and light light beer. I am ojiji! (likes the habits of old men, for example i have braces so i use a toothpick). The station was empty, as the next local train would come in 40 minutes. I sat down on a bench, and start gnawing on the squid and sipping the light beer. BAD LILY! An older man dressed neatly sat down a couple benches down. I casually glanced at him, but that sent him over.
"Where are you from?" a pause. "Where are you from? Venezuela?"
Usually Japan is very safe. It really is. It was tonight. Aside from two drunk men consecutively trying to make conversation with a tired foreigner wearing a red american eagle sweatshirt and carrying a massive bright orange top-loading 35L pack filled with climbing gear and clothes...
I decided to play dumb because I didn't know whether he was drunk or simply wanted to brush up on his English skills.
"WHAT? Where am I from?" I finally responded. I pointed to myself and said, "America. I am from America."
In Japanese he muttered, oh she doesn't understand. [he paused] where are you from? where? are you from matsue? are you from nage?
I responded, "I'm sorry I don't understand you." I help up my hands and sheepishly grinned.
I should have walked away but I wanted to see what he would try to say next. Besides there were people around, he was far from me, and the worst I could do was make a fool of myself in another country.
It went on for a little bit, he would say something like, (in japanese) I am going to nage. where are you from (in japan)? i am sorry i don't know any english. i am sorry. i am forgetting it all. i am drunk. i am sorry. the train will come soon. i am going to nage. you're a cute one. how old are you? are you twenty? i am sorry. i don't know english. i am drunk. i am sorry....
(THE first person in Japan to guess my age right, the third to blame their lame english skills on being drunk)
oh you are drinking beer, he said, motioning to my asahi clear. I hid the squid and picked up the beer and said, "This? Do you want it?" I held it out to him, and he said, "No, no, no" it's okay. i don't need a the beer in the trashcan beside me. bad move to have the beer!
I knew it was best for me to stand up and leave. And as much fun as I was having hearing him try to communicate with me while being drunk (even calling a friend to ask him what "from" meant), it wasn't right proper to carry on a conversation with a drunk old man in another country, as harmless as it might appear. (yea right) Which was perfect timing because Miyako-san called me. I stood up and said, "bye bye", pointed to my phone, picked up my backpack annymore. (BAD MOVE i will never casually drink even the most girlish lightest water-like beer in public places again.) I promptly dumpedd left. I walked to the opposite end of the station.
(NOTE: Here is why I didn't stand up to leave right away. In HIROSHIMA, where I spent this past weekend, Japanese people are constantly coming up to you to either speak english, or make sure you aren't lost or something or to say "welcome to hiroshima, where are you from?" So coming from this fresh experience I was at ease with conversing with strangers in a safe public setting. Besides other than a desire to practice english, japanese people won't strike up a conversation with you unless they have good reason.)
I sat next to a group of old ladies bickering about when the next train was coming. I started gnawing on the squid, missing the superlight beer, for beer goes with squid. I glanced over the platform. Young women reading manga or surfing on their cell phones. An older woman drinking tea from a bottle wrapped in a handkerchief. And, a man i saw earlier in the first area where the drunk man tried to talk to me. At the benches there were two other people who minded their own business. A woman, who went away, and later, a man who sat down to eat dinner and chuckled at the old man struggling to make conversation with me. He walked over to me and spoke in english, "I want to apologize for that drunk man over there. Please don't think the Japanese are like that. Japan is a very safe country." I said, "Nihongo wakarimasu yo." (I understand japanese) His face turned to surprise and then he laughed. He repeated in Japanese, apologizing for the drunk man's behavior, bothering me for conversation. "I know you might not want to be bothered but I am going to San Francisco next week and I want to brush my english skills. My first time to America. Can I practice little english with you? If not, it's okay." He got up to leave.
"No, It's okay. I don't mind. Please sit," I responded, motioning him to sit down on the bench. "I will practice a little english with you."
But the train came and I got on the train and so did he. "Do you still want to practice," I asked. He did so we sat down in one of those four seater spots- to benches facing each other. The other passenger was a woman trying to sleep. oops.
The story gets long and it's getting late and I am always one to end far from perfection.
All I'll say is that it ended well I got home safe, and I got to peer yet again into who the Japanese are from a series of interactions with random strangers during a time of transit.
When Kinetsu-san picked me up, I made a puzzled face and said, shouldn't you be drinking sake- it's late. he responded that he would when we got home, and i then knew i was back in peaceful normal izumo, guesting at the home of miyako-san and kinestu-san.