It's New Year's Eve, 1990. This holiday season has sucked for a variety of reasons: my now on-again girlfriend, Ashley, is away on a vacation to Thailand without me; my family and friends a million miles away; and I don't know if this holiday season is worth celebrating.
And then I remember that I'm in Japan.
I've been afforded an opportunity to experience a new language, people, foods and culture that, relatively speaking, few people will ever get to do.
It also helps to have a great friend like Matthew Hall.
There was a fair bit of snow on the ground - 30 centimetres (12 inches), it was chilly with a slight wind, but generally quite a nice night. For those of you who think that Japan is a tropical clime - well, maybe it is in Okinawa way, way south of the main island, but here in Ohtawara, the weather is very close to Toronto's... just not as cold in the winter (and less snow) and more heat and humidity in the summer.
It was around 7:30PM. Feeling down about life, I took a swig from a 2-litre bottle of Coca-Cola and flipped on the television.
THUD-THUD! went my door as someone knocked on it. My friend and supervisor, Kanemaru-san had broken my doorbell yesterday in THIS BLOG.
Grumbling under my breath as to who it could be now (VIDEO), I glanced through the peephole seeing Matthew and his teacher Hideaki Suzuki-san.
This Mr. Suzuki was the first Mr. Suzuki I had ever met in Japan, and he was by far the funniest.
Matthew and I must have lucked out/in (whichever one is good luck), because we seemed to be surrounded in good-natured folk who not only took an interest in our work-life, but also in our home-life, without being overly intrusive.
Anyhow, Matthew and Mr. Suzuki had dropped by to see if I would like to join them at the Ohtawara Temple to ring in the new year. Seeing as how I had nothing better to do and liked these two guys, I did not hesitate to say HAI! (yes!). Although in fairness, if I was closer in distance to that babe Kristine, I would have dropped these guys like a bowl of natto! I'm just saying, is all.
So... we arrive at Koushin-ji (ji means 'temple;) in downtown Ohtawara near the AiAi town grocery store.
It's packed to near over-flowing with people, but I don't see any priests or monks. Apparently it's a tradition for folks to go to the temple's bell (bottom right corner of the temple, and the photo at the top of this blog), make a small donation, pray in front of it and then pull the rope to make the bell ring--I might be wrong, but I believe the ringing of the bell is to wake up the gods to make them hear your prayer/wish.
Maybe it was the fact that there were suddenly TWO gaijin walking amongst them like Godzilla versus Mothra, but we created quite the stir there. I can't speak for Matthew - though in this blog I have certainly tried - but as we moved closer to the bell near the centre of the complex, I kept hearing my name whispered about in growing crescendo.
"an-do-ryu-sensei, An-do-ryu-sensie, AN-do-ryu-sensie; AN-Do-ryu-sensei; AN-DO-ryu-sensei: AN-DO-RYU SENSEI!" (which translates into Andrew Teacher, if my name was said in Japanese Katakana-alphabet phonetics).
It was cool. Having been extremely shy until I was about 24 years of age, I was reveling in my new-found glory at the age of 26.
I was famous. Almost as famous as I was in my own now-egomanical mind. Not surprisingly, I cracked a smile and waved to a few of the people chanting my name--all of whom seemed to be students there with their respective families.
As I walked to the steps toward the bell, a thunderous hush came over the crowd, as they waited breathlessly to see just what the hell a gaijin was going to do at their temple.
The thought did enter my mind that what I was doing might be sacrilegious, but neither Mr. Suzuki or Matthew seemed concerned, and both continued to march alongside me.
I hope they didn't feel like C-3PO, R2-D2 and Chewbacca standing around while Han and Luke got a medal from Princess Leia. NO MEDAL video.
As I approached the bell's rope, Mr. Suzuki whispered that I should toss in a five yen coin, clasp my hands together like I was praying, close my eyes and lower my head slightly; pray; and then pull the rope.
Seems simple enough.
I pulled out my Hanshin Tiger's coin purse (the Tigers are a Japanese baseball team that had ex-Toronto Blue Jays Cecil Fielder on it. Cecil is the big daddy to Prince Fielder, an all-star with the 2010 Milwaukee Brewers).
The crowd sucked in a ton of air, causing many a nearby flaming torch to go out.
Apparently you have to specifically use a five yen coin - not five one yen coins.
I figured, what's the difference? It was the only way I could get rid of these stupid coins!
After Mr. Suzuki quickly explained to me my gaff while interjecting the word bakayaro (stupid idiot) a few times, I offered to do it again, but with the proper coinage.
He shook his head in the negative and gave me one of those looks suggesting that it was alright and that I should continue. I believe it involves a squint and the pushing up of the lower lip hard into the upper lip, while shaking your head.
I prayed. I pulled the bell's rope ringing the 1,875-kilogram bell. I moved to the right and began walking away--to applause.
I was getting a standing ovation - probably because there were no seats - but people seemed to appreciate my effort.
I turned and watched Mr. Suzuki toss in five one yen coins and do his thing. His coins toss was followed by a chorus of "Yata"'s as everyone suddenly realized that using one yen coins was just as good as using a five yen coin! Yata is like a "hooray!" and no one really cares for the one-yen coin, which is the monetary equivalent of $0.000112903 CDN. Visit HERE, if you don't believe me.
Although I had now been here in Japan for five months, this may have been the first time I was actually able to sway people into trying something new.
There's a cultural thing in Japan where if you or I were to present the greatest thing since sliced bread to the Japanese, they would suck in air between their teeth and try and find a nice way to suggest that the old way they've been doing things is still the best way, sliced bread be damned. They prefer rice, anyhow.
Somewhere, a ringing bell means another angel has got his wings---that's from the Jimmy Stewart movie where I swiped the title of this blog from. Jimmy rules!
Okay, that ending was lame. Let's try again.
Somewhere, it's a new year, and I feel good about things again,
Andrew Joseph
PS: Today's title by U2.
PPS: With all that bell pulling, Suzu-ki translates into Bell-tree.
PPPS: What did I wish for? Better times with Ashley? Any time with Kristine? My apartment to defrost? Believe it or not, I wished for the altruistic world peace rather than the women.
PPPS: Wish I had a do over. My apartment is freezing, but better times with the women might have helped me feel warmer.
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment