Kitsune Matsuri: The Open Gateway Page 2

  “Nearly ran over me there, Bud!”

  “Oh! Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going!” I immediately backed up and picked up my pamphlet.

  “Eh, that’s all right! I wasn’t paying attention either.” He was probably around my age with a broad, freckled and friendly face and bright blue eyes. His eyes lit up when he saw the pamphlet in my hands.

  “Hey! You’re with the Society for English Learners?”

  “Yeah, I’m going to Japan to teach English for the first time.”

  “Well, cheers! I am too! I just got done with a brief vacation here in the States after my last assignment. Mr. Sato told me that I’d be traveling with some American guy on his first trip. We’re supposed to be living and working together until you get familiar with things.” He extended a hand. “My name’s John Tell. You’d be Tobias, right?”

  “Tobias Blackwood, yes.” He had a strong, vise-like grip. “You’re from Australia, right?”

  He glared at me. “New Zealand, not Aussie! Bloody hell, you Americans don’t know anything!”

  “Sorry, I thought you were Australian because of the accent.”

  “I suppose it’s an easy mistake, but I am a New Zealander, eh? We’re bloody smarter and more rugged than the Aussies by far! First thing we built was a college, and first thing they built was a bar. We’ve got a right fiercer rugby team too!”

  That got a laugh out of me, and he grinned seeing my reaction and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Well, you’ve got a sense of humor. You’ll need that in Japan. Trust me. Care to sit and talk while we’re waiting for our flight?”

  “Sure, why not?” I said.

  John smiled as I sat down. “So, if you don’t mind me asking, why’d you want to work in Japan, Tobias?”

  “I had a Japanese friend in kindergarten. He invited me over to his house a few times, and I was hooked the moment I ate seaweed.”

  John laughed, “Seaweed?”

  “Yeah, weird, huh? I loved learning everything I could about Japan from that point on. Eventually, I took courses on Japanese culture in college. I’ve always wanted to actually go, and joining the SEL was the first opportunity after I got my degree.

  I found an advertisement in a college bulletin asking for dedicated and quality individuals to work with an English Learners’ program in Japan. I applied, went through the seminars, thinking it was a one-in-a million shot, but here I am!”

  “Well, congratulations! First time’s always real fun, new country and completely new experiences. I remember my first trip to Japan when I came in green as a cucumber, but I had a heck of a lot of misadventures!”

  “What about you, John? Why’d you sign up?”

  He shrugged, “Thought it might be interesting. I qualified with a scholarship, and Mum thought it would be a good experience to help me mature. Boy, was she right about that!”

  “How many times have you gone over there?”

  “Three times, actually,” he said. “This will be my fourth. I’ve recently moved outside to teach physical education after spending all my time teaching in the classroom. I’m more an outdoors person, I suppose.”

  I couldn’t help asking the next question. “What’s it like there?”

  “Well, I’ve been to Tokyo, Osaka, and now Kyoto, round and back again. Japan’s a very different place from what you probably think you know. Once you get there, it’s real easy to get turned around. The first time I went, I was in Tokyo. I got lost plenty of times. The place still confuses me.”

  His comment stopped me in my tracks, and I felt my stomach suddenly tighten up in knots.

  In fifteen hours I’ll be as far away from here as I’ve ever been. What have I talked myself into?

  John sensed my concern. “Hey, don’t worry! I bet you’ll get the hang of it! The people there are very friendly and exceptionally courteous. It’s rare you don’t feel welcomed, especially with a host family watching after you!”

  Sure …

  “Tobi!” A familiar voice echoed across the room. I turned and saw my dad walking down the concourse with a familiar bulky bright orange parka on his arm.

  How did he get in here, and what does he want now?

  John glanced at him. “That a friend of yours?”

  “My dad,” I moaned, feeling my cheeks flush with embarrassment. Here I was almost a grown man and “Mommy” had sent “Daddy” to give me the precious parka I had purposely left behind.

  “How’d you get in here, Dad?”

  “I had to get a special pass,” he said, holding the parka out for me. “We found this jacket in the car and your mother insisted you’d need it.”

  I grabbed it from his hand. “Thanks …”

  He smiled a little sheepishly. “You know she means well, Tobi.”

  “Yeah, I do,” I mumbled.

  He glanced over at John. “Oh, sorry! Michael Blackwood, nice to meet you.”

  “John Tell, nice to meet you, Mr. Blackwood.” The two shook hands. “Not to worry, Mr. Blackwood. Your son’s in capable hands. I’m with the society, going over with him on this trip.”

  “I see. Tobi said someone was meeting him here. I’m glad you found him.” My dad nodded and glanced down at his watch. “Well, best get back before the TSA wonders where I am. Good luck to both of you! Call us when you get there, all right, Tobi?”

  “I will, Dad.”

  John grinned as we watched him go. “Parents, eh? Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em. My mum woulda done the same thing.”

  I nodded. Was I having second thoughts? Sure, but the possibility of new opportunities was greater than any fears. I took in a deep breath.

  Fifteen hours, and I’ll be a world away with all my worries behind. I’m going to Japan!

  The morning sun shone through the airplane window with rays outstretched above a sea of white clouds. As we passed below the clouds, I could see ocean waves lapping against a rectangular thumb of land built out in the sea, Kansai Airport. Beyond, as far as my eye could see, was Japan. My palms began to sweat as the landing gear clunked into place beneath our feet.

  I can’t believe it! I’m landing in Japan!

  I checked my pockets—wallet, passport and all the SEL papers were in order.

  Why do I feel like I am forgetting something important?

  John looked over and grinned. “Start of the bigger adventure, eh?”

  “Yes! I have wanted to come here my whole life!”

  Within minutes, the jet’s wheels touched the tarmac.

  I’m here! I’m really here!

  We exited into a huge interior area with a sloped glass ceiling stretching far away from us. Colorful mobile art structures moved with the passing of air currents from the ventilation system. There were people everywhere—a living, breathing mass of humanity on a level I had never experienced before.

  John moved through the crowd effortlessly like a motor boat in choppy seas, so I used his wild red locks as a beacon to guide me.

  A voice cut through the din of hurried passersby. “Eh! John-San!” An older Japanese man in a fine black suit waved at John from the crowd.

  “Sato-san! Kon’nichiwa, sore wa sa re ta ga naga sugiru!”[2] John cut in front of several distracted pedestrians, and the two exchanged cordial bows before they shook hands.

  Wow, John speaks really good Japanese!

  “It is good to see you, John-san. I hope you had a good trip.” The stranger glanced at me and asked in English, “Who is this?”

  I gulped. This was the man who’d signed the acceptance letter those many months ago, and I’d no idea how to respond in kind.

  John turned to me. “Yes, Sato-san. This is Tobias Blackwood. Tobias, Toshi Sato.”

  I knew enough of Japanese business culture to know the proper ritual of exchanging business cards, so I found mine and extended it to him with a cordial bow. “It is an honor, Mr. Sato.”

  He received my card ceremoniously and bowed in response. “I have been looking forward
to meeting you, Blackwood-san. I hope your journey was a pleasant one.”

  “I can hardly believe I am here, Sir.”

  “Please, just call me Sato-san. Do you prefer your first or last name in correspondence?”

  “First, Sir.”

  “Ah, Tobias-san then. I will make sure to put that in your dossier. Well, come along. If we don’t hurry, we will miss our train.”

  In the underground metro station, I felt almost as if I were a ghost standing in a graveyard. The gentle buzz of electricity was the only sound echoing down the dark passages. No one took notice of us. The businessmen and other travelers kept eyes steadfast on the blank walls.

  A rumble echoed through the rails, and I felt the dynamic in the crowd shift. A sleek train slid gracefully to a halt at the station platform. Doors opened and white-gloved attendants materialized. The whole crowd pushed forward.

  I was instantly swallowed by a sea of black hair and business suits. Panic set in, but I felt John grab my arm and haul me inside just as the doors closed. A whistle sounded, and the train was off rumbling down the line.

  “You okay, Tobi?” John eased me into one of the seats and placed a hand on my shoulder.

  “Yeah, thanks, John.” It was another clarion call. I was going deep into the heart of Japan, further from everything I knew or probably could understand.

  “You have to be quick with the trains here in Japan, Tobias-san.” Mr. Sato mused. “We Japanese pride ourselves on our punctuality. If you aren’t careful, you’ll get left behind.”

  “Sorry, I guess I am just a little unused to this.”

  The train moved swiftly out of the terminal and onto a bridge that ran over the water. I could see boats below and the outline of buildings far away through a gray haze.

  “Can you tell me about where I’m being placed, Sato-san?”

  “Hai, you will be teaching some second year students at the Maeda Academy in Yamashina-ku, just outside of Kyoto. Ryuto Maeda has been the headmaster of the school for almost forty years, and he is a very influential man here in Japan.

  He expects his transfer teachers to be the best. I suggest listening to him and respecting any advice. I’ve also assigned a translator to assist in the classroom since you are new. She will meet you tomorrow before the students arrive.”

  “She?”

  “Yes, Michiko Yamasaki. She has quite a few years’ experience teaching at Maeda Academy and will be an excellent resource for you as a translator.”

  “Don’t worry, Tobi.” John patted my shoulder. “I’ll be around as well at least until you get your bearings.”

  Sato glanced down at his watch. “It will be some time before we reach Kyoto. I suggest some rest.”

  Lying back, I sat and stared out the window as a strange new world passed by.

  I’m here after all these years!

  Black roofed houses lined a mish-mash of streets and taller apartment buildings. We passed through neighborhoods where laundry hung on long lines across overhanging balconies. As the train went faster, the cityscape became thicker, and flashes of neon lights, tall buildings and telephone poles blurred into cascading images as I closed my eyes. I tried to stay awake not wanting to miss a moment of it. Eventually, the jet lag won and I closed my eyes.

  I remember dreaming of lush green bamboo forests, tall pagodas and slanted roofed wooden houses lit by the gentle glow of paper lanterns set against the dark of night. There was someone with me, someone I could not see.

  Who are you?

  • • •

  “Tobi, wake up.”

  “Give me ten minutes, John.”

  “We don’t have ten minutes! We’re pulling into Kyoto Station!

  “Kyoto?” I sat upright. We were slowing down, pulling into a station.

  “You slept almost the entire trip through Osaka, Tobi! Come on!”

  I quickly grabbed my things and followed him as we stepped off the train. From the platform, Kyoto Station loomed as a massive building made almost entirely out of glass. We walked quickly through it to where a small black sedan waited for us at the curb outside among the fleet of taxies. A driver got out and opened the door for us.

  Downtown Kyoto was quite the bustling metropolis, far different from what I expected. Colorful billboards and television screens advertised strange and exotic goods on the sides of tall modern skyscrapers.

  There were fashionable shops and notable brand names in English mixed with Kanji. Neon lights flashed an ever present cacophony of spiraling colors, shapes and symbols. People crammed into sidewalks waiting to cross the street en masse, each with a hurried purpose.

  The sedan crossed over another river, and the glitz of tall commercial buildings gave way to densely packed apartments with laundry hanging from their balconies. Eventually the flat, ugly apartments were replaced by older wooden buildings.

  Traditional Japanese homes and businesses as well as more modern ones lined impossibly narrow streets and alleys that zigzagged in every direction. People ambled by on foot or bicycle, and a few children chased each other before vanishing back to their homes.

  “Where are we, Toshi-san?”

  “Sakyo-Ku, the northeastern most of Kyoto’s eleven wards, Tobias-San. There are several famous temples here. I believe you are actually very near a place called the Philosopher’s Path, a famous walkway through Kyoto.”

  “Kyoto’s pretty big, Tobi, but you’ll get the hang of finding your way,” John said. “When I had to live in Tokyo, it was overwhelming at first.”

  “I see. How much farther is our house, Sato-san?”

  “Here it is now, Tobias-san.”

  It was a two-story building with clinging vines growing up along the faded yellow plaster walls. A large maple tree dominated the tiny front yard with an old stone fence between it and the street. A short, plump Japanese woman in a purple apron appeared at the gate.

  “Jomei, shōnen Sato-san ga tōchaku shi ta!”[3]

  The wiry frame of a balding older man peered out from behind the mesh of the door, eyes twinkling behind coke bottle glasses resting on a thin slip of a nose. He wore an old gray robe offset by faded yellow house slippers.

  The door pushed wider as the man moved outside. “Watashi wa, josei ga sorera wo sanshō shi te kudasai! Ochitsui te!”[4]

  “Ohayo!” Mr. Sato greeted them warmly with a bow. “It is so good to see you. It has been far too long!”

  “Likewise, Sato-san. These are the two?”

  “Hai! Jomei-san, Aoki-san, this is John Tell and Tobias Blackwood. The Yoshidas will be your hosts here in Japan.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Tobias-san, John-san. Welcome to our home.”

  Jomei’s wrinkled face was long with bushy eyebrows over sad, sagging eyes. “I hope the journey was not too difficult.”

  “No, no. It was just fine, Yoshida-san.”

  Mrs. Yoshida was very round, especially when she stood next to her rail thin husband. She certainly liked purple. Her gloves, gardening shoes and even the gardening tools had purple handles. “Well, come in, come in! Make yourselves comfortable. I will have to put on some more food!”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Yoshida.”

  “Please call me Aoki, and my husband Jomei.”

  John nudged me, “You brought a gift, right?”

  I nodded, knowing the custom of houseguests presenting gifts. Reaching into my bag, I retrieved two bottles of sake I’d bought from a duty free shop at the airport back home. “Here is a gift in return for the kindness in letting us stay in your home.”

  Aoki took hers with a bow and a smile while Jomei was a bit more stern. “Will you be staying for lunch, Sato-san?”

  Mr. Sato shook his head. “Forgive me but no. I have other business elsewhere. I will leave you two in their capable hands.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Sato.”

  I felt a little nervous as I watched the car drive away. John and I were on our own now with the Yoshidas.

  Aoki must have noticed my expression be
cause she patted my arm. “Don’t worry, Tobias-san. We will take good care of you. Why not come inside? Jomei will help you upstairs while I make lunch.”

  He didn’t hesitate, moving to take our bags. “Need help with these, boys?”

  “No, No. I think I can handle mine. John?”

  “I got it, thanks. Wow, this house is pretty big!”

  “Hai. Now, watch the top step here.”

  We all removed our shoes in the tile entry and put on house slippers. The distinct smell of steamed rice and frying oil wafted from a small kitchen to our immediate left. I could see a door leading from the back of the kitchen to a small green yard. On the right was a family room with a small television, a low table, and an old, obviously well-loved plaid upholstered chair. A small ceremonial alcove housed a Buddhist shrine, the only ornate object in the place.

  Straight ahead was a stairway where stalwart family portraits kept silent vigil over us. About halfway up, I stopped at a picture of a young Japanese man beneath the Statue of Liberty.

  “Is this your son, Jomei-san?”

  Mr. Yoshida stopped and peered down at me with those big glasses. “Hai. That is Toji. He lives in America now with his wife.” He turned and continued upstairs without any further explanation. “You two can decide between the two bedrooms.”

  “I’ll take this second one up ahead okay, Tobi?”

  “Sure, I don’t see a problem with that, John.” I glanced inside the closer room. The space was small, about as wide as I was tall, and simply furnished. A tiny hole of a closet opened up on the right with a small low table that could serve as a desk. There was no bed, only a futon stretched out on the floor. A sliding glass door framed the far end of the room.

  “This is a wonderful room. Thank you, Mr. Yoshida.”

  “Hai. If you need anything else, just ask my wife.”

  As I unloaded my bag, I realized what I’d missed. Somewhere in between sweatshirts, jackets, jeans, good clothes and all the other miscellaneous items, I’d not brought a single tie.

  I knew I’d need those, and I didn’t even pack them!

  I cursed myself for not listening better to my mother when she suggested I pack some “just in case.”