Well gosh, it's the night before I leave. I'm here in Mr. Nakamura's house again, in Yachimata, Chiba prefecture near Tokyo. The last couple weeks have been quite busy, going from place to place. I haven't written anything for over two weeks. It might be a bit silly to write -- I'll be seeing most of the people who will read it within a few days. But it feels like necessary closure.

I left Muchacha-en last Saturday, the 20th. My impressions are basically the same -- hard work, but worth it. I think one of the reasons I didn't mind, is that there were no sweaty ugly bosses telling me to work faster and harder or they'd fire me. But there were projects to complete, that had to be completed, so I found it easy to get into the mind set of "Well, let's do it quickly and efficiently and then we can leave." I was working because I chose to, not because I had bills to pay. Also, I knew (and I think they knew) that if I got fed up I could always just leave! Sometimes there was an effect like runner's high, maybe -- after a difficult day, or during lunch, I often felt so light-hearted, and close to the other people around me, that it all seemed ok. Other moments, I wanted to peer into the business side with a slightly cynical eye -- who benefits from all that extremely cheap labor? But I don't care. I'd probably ask those questions before signing up for a training program, but I was treated well when I was there. I don't have the money to stay an extended period in Japan, so instead I bought my time here with a bit of work. Fair enough. And again, there were benefits to being there far beyond the reach of money.

One day, the day right after a typhoon, the last week I was there, the weather was bright, clear, and very hot. We were spreading fertilizer around orange trees in the mountains, sweat streaming down our bodies, taking breaks every 40 minutes. We finished around noon, in time for lunch. Rather than go to a different work site, Hajime, the foreman (for lack of a better word) said "Hey, let's go to the ocean." So off we went, in two little Suzuki vans, with engines not even half the size of my Subaru's.

It was about a two hour drive to the wide-open Pacific ocean. We stopped once at a lighthouse, climbed down the rocks to the water, and swam -- no beach, just a small pool formed by a scattering of cliff and rock-faces. We were protected from the waves by rock-formations around us, but still felt the swelling of the ocean. Masaya plucked a bit of coral from the rocks under the water, something I haven't seen since Florida.

After that we went one more place, but probably shouldn't have. It was similar -- a small area of rocky beach, with very large rocks and small islands off the shore. In appearance it very much reminded me of Washington's shores. One island had a hole right through the middle, drilled through by the waves over who knows how long a time. Imagine a half-dipped donut. Other people jumped in again, but at first I just wanted to stay and sit near the beach. But it looked so wild, to be swimming in the ocean like that, so I went in too in just my underwear and skinny white legs, ignoring laughter (and photographers) from the shore. It was especially fun to swim up towards the hole in the island, only to be pushed back by the next surge of water through it.

But there was another element which caused problems -- the wildness of the day made us too brave, and maybe made the males a bit competitive, I don't know. Masaya began climbing up one side of the island with the hole in it. So I tried climbing up the other side. I was thinking maybe we could meet in the middle. It wasn't very good for climbing -- the base of the island was hard stable rock, but a bit of the way up it was a mix of rocks and dirt, with the rocks not very well anchored. One came loose in my hand, loaf-of-bread-sized, with Xavier below. So I yelled to him that it was really dangerous, and held the rock there until I found a place to hang it, where it wouldn't tumble down on top of him. But I didn't warn Hajime, the foreman. He was climbing up the same side, from a different place. At this point I was ready to give up and climb down, but also half-looking for a place to climb up further. Then a rock came loose under Hajime's foot. For about two seconds he struggled to regain his footing, and then lost it, slipping ten or so feet, and then falling another ten or so feet to the naked rocks below. The last thing that happened was a sharp blow to the head, after which he squinted in pain, and then just sat there.

Masaya, Xavier and I converged to care for him -- it was a very fearful time. There was a three-inch long gash in his leg, skin dangling from his foot and hand, and blood coming profusely from a hole on the back of his head. The shore was dozens of yards away. It took over forty minutes for the ambulance to come, so we just cared for him as best we could. Masaya did most of the thinking, and his competence shone brightly. A couple times Hajime, very afraid, made a quick prayer -- his two hands pressed together, and then shaken briefly for emphasis, the way people pray at temples. Xavier held his hand (the one without the gash) and I rested my hands on his shoulders, and felt for broken bones, ribs, or vertibrae, finding none. Shortly the blood from his head-wound slowed and stopped. One of the guys from the shore brought a bundle of clothes, so we put them around him in case he went into shock. I began to worry less about serious brain-injury. He could still talk clearly. Also, I remembered that when my sister had a concussion, she said the first thing she did was vomit. This he did not do.

Anyway, the ambulance arrived, and a group of men came with inflatable swimming toys to swim him to the shore. I tried to stay out of the way and be as useful as I could. Masaya talked with the paramedics and went with them to the hospital. The rest of us drove to the hospital (but we first had to find which one! They happened to go to one about an hour's drive away.) We arrived to find out that Hajime was basically ok, aside from a whole lot of stitches and bandages. He even seemed in good humor, probably profundly relieved that he wasn't really damaged. Around 1 or 2 am we arrived back at the dorm, after a long ride home.

So three days after that I took off from Muchachaen, on a late Saturday morning. The send-off was very warm, with quite a feast the night before, and many exchanges of addresses.

Saturday and Sunday I spent a couple days sightseeing in Uchiko and Matsuyama. Keiko, the woman who gave me a ride to Matsuyama a month before, offered me one of her weekends to give me a tour of the area, so I accepted eagerly. I knew she had a boyfriend and didn't think of it as a romantic opportunity (but there's always that part of the mind which is always examining the situation!) Keiko is a nice portrait of opposites. One of her hobbies is Kado, Japanese flower-arranging, which she is licensed to teach. She even gave me a brief lesson. Another of her hobbies is Kendo, a martial art using bamboo staffs, which she has studied for many years. She may be licensed to teach that too. With a stick in her hand, she can be quite "abunai," (dangerous) she said.

I also took a one-day trip to Hiroshima. Honestly it wasn't in my plans, but I was given some encouragement to go. Keiko asked me if I planned to go to Hiroshima. I said nope, not really. But she seemed to want to talk about it, the atomic bomb museum and the photos that were there, and the drawings which children drew of that day. She also offered to skip a day of work, to take me. While she was talking, her lower lip quivered a bit. I thought "oh hell, I guess I should go." Honestly, it's one of the most significant places in the world's history, and if I want to steep myself in the real Japan, I guess I can spend a day being heavy-hearted and somber too. So the next day I told her I could go, but I could go by myself.

So I spent one more day, last Monday, at a Muchachaen farm near Matsuyama. Mostly I wanted to see a couple people again, but I also spent Monday helping with a project -- they had bought a greenhouse from a farmer. A big greenhouse, maybe 100 feet long and maybe 60 feet wide, made out of pipes. They needed to take it apart to move it to their own farm, and rebuild it. It was a very hot day, and the trill of climbing around on a really big set of monkey-bars wore off soon enough. During lunch I actually slept next to the road, on the asphault, using my hat for a pillow. During a break we fed on watermelon, probably given to us by the farmer who sold the greenhouse to Muchachaen. Later I also watched a couple small frogs trying to eat a worm. It was a long day, from about 7:30 to 5pm, but we wrapped up with work eventually. That night was also a bit of a send-off for me, and a light-hearted evening. But I chickened out when they asked me for a speech (something I still feel lame about.) Also, the day before, I helped a young guy of about 18 translate a poem from Japanese to English! What an interesting experience! Maybe when I return I'll have Mieko check it out, to see how the meanings fit.

So anyway, Tuesday I spent in Hiroshima. Keiko's boyfriend Kenji (a guy in his mid 30's I'm guessing) met me at the ferry terminal to give me a gift from Keiko's mom, and we chatted for an hour until I got onto the ferry. In Hiroshima I saw the different memorials in the Peace Memorial Park, and went through the atomic bomb museum. It was as grim and somber as I imagined, a memorial to death, terror and carnage, both a bitter complaint to the world, and an appeal for peace. I avoided eye contact with everyone. On the way back to the hostel I found a really good bakery. The next day I took a train to Osaka.

In Osaka I met up with Junko, a tour guide I first met while on the ferry from Sadogashima over a month before, and exchanged emails a few times at Muchachaen. She lives in Osaka, and I emailed her the day before I was expecting to arrive, thinking she was probably somewhere else in Japan for work. But no, she was in Osaka, had the day off, and said she'd like to meet me. She was quite attractive, so my eyes grew big with anticipation. Unfortunately all my amorous hopes were quickly extinguished. She asked me where I was staying that night, and I said there were a couple youth hostels I could go to (but no reservations yet....) So she advised me to go ahead and make a reservation, but we could meet at the train station. Drat. But I did thoroughly enjoy the visit. After a struggle to find each other (we were maybe 60 feet away from each other in the station, but it took two or three calls from a payphone to her cell phone, before we found each other. Yes, it was that crowded) we had some Korean food and then had coffee floats, while talking enthusiastically for a few hours. I remember we drew maps for each other, of Japan, Washington state, Europe, and the US. Then she set me up with the right subway line to get to my youth hostel, and we parted with an odd shaking of hands that felt like it wanted to be a hug.

Here's an odd experience at the Osaka youth hostel -- after a night of staying up until 2:30 am drinking and talking with a young German guy, I staggered out of bed to get breakfast at the hostel before it was too late. I got my plate, and glanced at the soup pot to see if there were any miso soup, but saw just an empty ladle sticking out of an empty square hot-pot, with a covered one on either side. I was too lazy to actually check the covered ones (and also my hands were full) so I just sat down and started eating. Shortly after I sat down, someone I had never met before, another guest, set down a full bowl of miso soup, saying "this is for you." There have been so many experiences like that in Japan, where people have made small gestures of kindness or consideration. One thing I am curious about, is if Japanese people do these small kindness for other Japanese people as well.

That day I visited an old (over a decade) client of EDA's, watched a parade of boats along a river as part of Osaka's big yearly Matsuri, and then stayed with someone from the company I visited, in his home in Nara. The next day I was sent on my way for Tokyo by train, a journey which took about 10 hours. By the time I arrived, I was so sick of trains! there I met Masami and Shoko again. Masami's plan was an hour of subways (yes, people in Tokyo will park one hour away from their homes, if they can find a good deal) and then four or so hours of driving, to get to a beach. So we went.

The beach wasn't too far from the ones I visited the first time I was here at Nakamura's farm. With one difference -- they were packed with people. Just the difference in season, I guess. Even at 6:30 am, which is when we woke up and hit the beach, there were a dozen or so other people. From there on it just got more and more crowded,　until about 1pm when we left. But it was worth it -- the waves were quite high, and sometimes when they came crashing down, they'd send me tumbling. Better than an amusement ride! That night we ate at the same Izakaya where I had dinner the first night I was in Japan, and the woman who works there (probably she and her husband run it) remembered me, from over two months ago! She even brought some complimentary mochi and nukazuke.

Sunday I came back to Yachimata to see Mr. Nakamura, after a day of shopping. Tonight we went out for sushi -- Mr Nakamura, his wife, an Australian woman staying here for about a week, and myself. I figured why take back any Japanese currency? Better to spend it all, than to give a percentage to the currency exchange. I wanted it to be my treat, but it ended up costing substantially more than what I had on me, and they wouldn't take a credit card. So we kinda went dutch, I guess. Tomorrow it's lugging my luggage (makes sense) to the airport, a 8 1/2 hour flight back to the northwest, where the Idaho-branch office of family will meet me at the airport at 8 in the morning. Yay!

Any last thoughts? Well, how to summarize. Why bother. But I'm happy. I feel like I got what I came for -- some idea of what Japan is really like. And I've met people I genuinely like, and who really seem to like me. I feel as if I've made friends here, and I feel like I've learned something of how to live in Japan, among Japanese people. And I've eaten my fill of some of the world's best food, from sushi to cinnamon rolls!

The last night I was in Shinjuku, Masami and I went for ramen. He said that I seemed to fit Japan. I said, one of the reasons I came is that I didn't feel perfectly at home in the US. I was without a doubt an American (at which Masami laughed) but I I wanted to see how I fit in another part of the world. His thought was, maybe I could fit, in different ways, in a lot of places.

I don't know what it would be like to live a long time in Japan. Undoubtedly there are things I would miss, like going out in my kayak, or friends and family, or being able to say what I want to say clearly and accurately and quickly. I have tried to dig a bit below the surface here, but I'm still basically a tourist -- no address, no income, no permanence. And I've felt occasional twinges of culture shock, where Japan was not foreign and exciting, but instead foreign and a tiny bit repugnant. Or times when I've felt a bit scorned or mocked, been treated like a child, or even felt a bit of racism (A very interesting experience!) I've also had to remind myself not to take Japanese flattery or interest in me or my life too seriously -- just to think of it as a polite gesture, not an expression of opinion or real interest. There were a couple times when someone would say to me "Nihongo jozu ne" ("Your Japanese is very good") but in talking to each other I'd hear "nanimo wakaranai" ("he doesn't understand anything") float by. And honestly they're right -- my Japanese has gotten to the level where I can basically be understood, and basically understand something simple being said directly to me. But I'm still below the level where I can take part in daily conversations.

It's important to remind myself that if I were a Japanese person travelling alone in America I'd have numerous hardships too, probably moreso. I was often treated very well, but I didn't come to be treated well -- I came to know what Japan is like. I feel like I could, with some adjustment, be happy here. There's something I genuinely like about Japan -- the Japanese people have been here on this island for thousands of years. It's part of their nature, and they're part of Japan's nature. America as it is now is very young -- the American people live there, but we're like ants crawling all over a new piece of candy. We're going to have to make a transition from devouring the country to actually living there, and maybe Japan offers some examples on how to do that, idunno.

So anyway, I have to catch a plane in about 12 hours. What on earth will I do when I get back to Bellingham? I guess that'll be my next project.