July 23rd, 2008: New Eyes Part II

“We are going to 100-yen shop,” she told us. Earlier, we had made the suggestion to visit the shop, the equivalent of an US $.99 store. I spoke with her as we waited at a crosswalk. Shoko-san was very sweet and her speech, in both English and Japanese, held a gentle manner. Her light-complexed face had a quality that seemed cherub-like. I found her to be innocent and yet, profound in thought when she addressed others.

I talked to her about America and the Odawara delegates, passing colorful signs in kanji, katakana, and hiragana. I was amazed at all of the stores we passed, and finally, Shoko-san directed us to the 100-yen store.

It was on the third floor (sankai) of a posh-looking building, and upon reaching our destination, Shoko-san announced she needed to return to the International Lounge to help prepare the party. I was held responsible for getting the group back. We were on our own to explore the stores. Chris and Jason disappeared inside the racks of the 100-yen store while Kelsey and I explored the clothing areas.

There were shirts that were imported from America and China, and racks of in-style fashion swayed from racks. You couldn’t tell where one store started and one ended.

Kelsey and I joined up with Chris and Jason, and at the 100-yen shop, I made my first purchase 2 handkerchiefs and a belt key chain. I paid in coins the 382 yen (less than $3.82) and we made our way to the exit.

Along the way, we noticed a Lolita clothing store. The store was cloaked behind a black wooden wall, its only store display and an unlocked door indicating its existence. We didn’t know how we missed it, seeing that it was the only store on the floor where a door had to be opened to enter, but we marveled at the immediate change in atmosphere once we entered.

The store had everything and anything Lolita, gothic, and punk. Unfortunately, everything was expensive. Kelsey recognized the song playing in the background and asked the store clerk about it. He responded the best he could in English.

We left the store, disappointed at the costs, and exited the building. We took pictures walking back to the International Lounge, looking at everything with a newborn sense of excitement. After walking past the building, we stopped at a magazine shop. Jason purchased an anime magazine, his second purchase of the day.

Soon, we returned to the International Lounge, the room filled with City Council member, host families, and past and present Odawara delegates.

The time for the celebration began and we were seated at the front of the room with everyone watching our emcee. He greeted everyone then introduced a City Council member for his speech. He thanked everyone and formally welcomed us here in Japan.

We each stood up and introduced ourselves in Japanese, before the emcee moved on to introduce host family members. Finally, we were instructed to eat food. They served a brigade of food! Different types of sushi, dumplings, tempura, fried lobster, and shrimp, and red bean rice became our dinner. While we ate, we mingled with everyone.

The atmosphere wasn’t rigid at all in spite of the courtesy bows and attention to politeness. It was tranquil, like a soft family function, as we ate and drank. Surprisingly, beer (biiru) was stationed at the table with beverages and desserts, but hardly anyone took any of the canned Kirin liquid. In America, the beer would disappear within the first five minutes, desperately trying to slurp away reality.

We played a group rock-paper-scissors game in teams, trying to collect as many names as possible. Mitsukawa-sama, Jason’s family host, had the most names on her paper. Chris’s team won the most names in a group and they collected a giant wealth of chocolate and biscuit snacks that was distributed to anyone who asked.

The Welcome Party went on to a formal closing by the Odawara delegates and everyone began to make doggy bags from the leftover food. Everyone helped to clean up the room and return tables and chairs to their original states. A group of formal delegates played rock-paper-scissors to win trays of food.

Soon enough, the room was rearranged back to its former glory and all of the guests began to take their leave, taking each one of us away. Mama-san and Eriko lead me towards a nearby train station, the bunny ears I was given by Haruka’s sister-in-law and the bottle of my favorite drink my arms.

As we walked around, I noticed how many people glanced at me or stared at me. I felt like I was the only black person in Japan, but I knew this would happen. Japan isn’t highly diverse in ethnic backgrounds like California.

We waited for the train in a waiting room, a room with several chairs that was cooler than the waiting chairs outside. Eriko asked me about her closing speech. “What I said, ‘I will do my best to be a go-between for Chula Vista and Odawara,’ was that ok?”

“For ‘go-between,’ we use ‘ambassador,’” I explained as plainly as possible. “Or you could use a French word, ‘liaison.’” I slowly reiterated the word and she sounded it out carefully. “It is a business word, a big word. But ‘ambassador’ is fine.” When we boarded our train, she pulled out her translator and I spelled ‘ambassador’ for her. She seemed amazed at the new word.

The train ride was brief. The train in Japan was littered with ads up ads on the ceilings and sides of the inside of the cars. The train we boarded was a Women’s train. Between 7:10 to 9:30 am, the Odayo line and the Chidate line became a train only for women, men with disabilities, men care attendants, and children under 12. I heard about these trains before, but I was amazed at being inside one.

We exited the train at our stop and walked to Eriko’s house. While we walked, Eriko’s mom explained that she was off work tomorrow and she would clean my room. I learned that Mama-san didn’t like to cook or iron. I promised I would make pasta for them if they liked.

We entered the house, and after extracting my shoes, I hurried to my room to put down my gifts. I discovered a huge spider on my ceiling and immediately informed Eriko. She and Mama-san grabbed a bottle of bug spray and proceeded to spray the spider. It took some time to kill and Mama-san fearlessly disposed of the spider.

“Daishobu,” Mama-san said to the fear etched across my face in spite of the spider’s death. I went about, preparing for my shower. When I returned downstairs, Eriko and I discovered two more spiders, one on the goza—tatami summer rug—and one on the wall. Mama-san bravely disposed of them and Eriko told me that more spiders trekked in this ear than last year. It was because of the lack of rain, her mother explained.

I decided to take a shower, looking at all corners of each room in search of any arachnids. Thankfully, the rest of the evening was short.

After my shower, I returned to my room to write, and fell asleep between paragraphs. At 11:15 pm, I turned on the fan and turned off my lights before falling into a deep sleep.