Tuesday, October 25, 2011

Bittersweet Parting: My Fondness and Farewell

My deepest apologies for my dearth of updates these past few weeks.  My days in Tsuchiura were filled to overflowing with all manner of sight-seeing under the loving guidance of Asami's parents, and late nights aplenty were spent conversing with Rie in my ever-so-slow-to-refine Japanese.  My time spent with them was a joy, despite a rather meddlesome cold I developed shortly upon arriving.  The generosity with which they graced my visit defies the very limits of my capacity to express it, for it dwelt deeper in them than the mere level of things that were given or done, the level to which words so naturally find themselves applied, but rather their givingness flowed from a point so far deeper than words; it was of essence that the things themselves were but expressions.  They embodied the space of selflessness.

Helping Bou-san's friends harvest rice
After one short week with them, I traveled back to Nagano, this time to the city of Azumino, for my second farm stay.  My host was a man named Bouzaburou (Bou-san for short), a former law student and computer programmer turned farmer.  He also runs an inn, nestled right at the foot of the Japanese Alps, that offers guests the chance to experience country living.  I arrived just in time for rice harvesting, which involved drying rice bundles on wooden racks and then feeding them through a dreadfully noisy machine to strip off the grains.  We harvested not only my host's rice crop, but also helped several of his farmer friends with theirs.  There is much cooperation among Japanese farmers; we were constantly helping friends and being helped anytime there was a big job to be done.

Sum and I gathering buckwheat
About halfway through my stay, another WWOOFer arrived, a girl from Hong Kong named Sum.  She spoke very little Japanese, but her English was excellent, so we not only enjoyed the privilege of an absent language barrier, but I also had the pleasure of acting as Japanese sensei, humbly imparting my limited wisdom unto her, my apt and eager pupil.  I was grateful for her arrival, not only for her timely assistance with the rather tedious task of cutting and bundling a field of buckwheat entirely by hand, but also because her presence instantly made the place feel more like home.  I was no longer the new guy!  I enjoyed her company immensely, and she actually reminded me a great deal of my cousin Maria, with her very similar mannerisms and way of talking, as well as having the same genuine sweetness to her personality.

After 11 short days, my stay was up, and it was back to Tokyo.  I had the luck to catch a ride with some guests at Bou-san's inn, a music-reading performing duo of immense talent who read/played at the inn the night before.  After their show, I'd stayed up late with them singing oldies and traditional American folk songs ("Oh give me a home, where the buffalo roam..."), and in the morning when it was discovered that we were headed in the same direction, they offered me a ride.  Success!

I had 4 more days in Tokyo that were over in a blink.  I got to see a few more of Nathan's friends and finish up some gift shopping, but the grand finale was today.  Nathan and I woke up this morning at 4 a.m. to go to the Tsukiji fish market, the largest wholesale fish and seafood market in the world and one of the largest wholesale food markets of any kind.  We actually got there a little late and missed the big tuna auction, but we stood in line for an hour to have breakfast at a famous sushi restaurant, and it was absolutely worth the wait!  Next we went to see the kabuki matinee, a four hour marathon of traditional Japanese theater.  Shamisens twanging, samurai with heavily painted faces posing with gusto, all of the female parts played by men...  It was highly stylized, but quite dramatic and thoroughly enjoyable!  Finally, we topped off the day with one final trip to an onsen.  I've fallen in love with Japanese public baths; they are something I will surely miss upon returning to the States.

Tomorrow I leave...  At 4 p.m. my flight departs, and it's back to the land of the setting sun.  I miss home to be sure, and there are people I am aching to see again, but the parting is bittersweet.  My trip to Japan has been a roaring success, surely to be reprised somewhen in the future. 

Farewell, Nihon... I have loved you so!

yours in peace and love,

Austin
Azumino and the Japanese Alps