By Mark
Sick of me yet? Yes, it's Mark again, continuing my adventures in the coastal city of Kamogawa.
After my first weekend in Kamogawa, I went back to Tokyo and slaved away for a week. Kim had invited me back to Kamogawa the following weekend, and I would be staying with her at her house.
The Kamogawa government had set Kim up in a house that was no bigger than a one bedroom apartment. It was up on cinder blocks, and was for lack of a better word, rustic. It consisted on an entryway, a tiny kitchen, an even smaller bathroom, and then one room that served as bedroom, living room, and every other room that a house should have. The whole house could not have been more than fifteen or twenty feet on a side. Now many Japanese homes don't have a central water heater like American homes do. They have 'flash' heaters. It's a wall-mounted unit, with a small storage tank, and a gas heater element. When you turn the dial for hot water, the burner fires up, and flash heats just the amount of water you use. Quite efficient.
Efficient they may be, but they don't work well for people (like me) accustomed to using large volumes of hot water in my daily showers. You have to approach it like a Navy shower. Water on, get yourself wet, water off, soap up, water on, rinse off.
At any rate, Kim was an excellent host, and took me all around the town and surrounding area. We went to an island shrine which I believe was called Nimonjima. We were rowed out to the island by an old fisherman, who commented on how good our (he meant Kim's) Japanese was. Apparently, on this island several hundred years ago, a warlord hid in a cave from people who were trying to kill him. Later they made the cave into a shrine.
I will tell the story of our legendary hike through the mountains another time, but I'd like to talk about what happened the day after.
The Sunday after our hike, I was scheduled to take the train back to Tokyo. Kim and I got up in the morning and tried to figure out what to do until then. A gentle rain was falling, and Kim had a great idea. 'Let's go for a bike ride in the mountains. I'll take you to one of the dams.' It sounded good, so we dressed in our nastiest clothes, and hopped on our Kim's bikes. Kim had two bikes, a modern 10 speed, and a granny-mobile with only one gear. We agreed to trade off because the granny-mobile was hard to pedal in the mountains.
A warm rain fell softly on us as we pedalled past rice paddies and tiny shrines set up by the farmers to protect their crops. The wind was not blowing at all, and the exercise kept us toasty. Not a soul was around as we explored the foothills. Despite being soaked to the skin, we were wrapped in a blanket of warmth, silence, and peace. We headed in the mountains to visit the dam. We slowly pedalled up winding roads barely large enough for two cars, and had to be careful due to the large number of blind corners. We reached our destination, and sat watching the water cascade over the concrete and steel monstrosity that lurked like a cancer in the middle of this stunning green valley. Nothing that modern should be in this ancient and wild place.
We left the dam, and started back down hill. We stopped to rest in a field filled with abandoned vehicles. I found a fascinating old fire engine rusting quietly, and I sat thinking of the men who had ridden her in the service of the public. Japan is steeped in history, and the weight of it is palpable at times. In certain villages, it was easy to imagine all the trappings of modern day life disappearing, and the people who lived there would not notice at all.
The time passed too quickly, and we had to head back so I could catch my train. I regret I did not have more time to spend there, and if I ever win the lottery, guess where I am heading first.
Well, that's enough waxing poetic for now. Next time I shall tell you about the mountain hike I hinted at. Email your comments and thoughts to gleep@lvcm.com
