We just spent the weekend in Chichibu, the greenest bit of our home prefecture of Saitama.  We went up
with Rhoda after school on Friday.  Though we knew a typhoon was on the horizon for the weekend
we were happy enough to be getting out of Soka for a few days regardless of any weather woes.
It takes about 3 hours to get to Chichibu from Soka by train.

Our gracious host, John, picked us up in his "clown car" amidst the lanterns of Chichibu station.
The instant rush of oxygen to our lungs brought us to life as we made our way to the supermarket to stock up
for the weekend.  John taught with us in Soka Shitty last year before disillusionment with the whole JET gig
sent him packing back to America.  Caught between the Mad Cowboy and the WAKANAI student set,
he opted to return to Japan.  We all agreed the second time around earned him a more idyllic locale.

After a 20 minute drive, we found ourselves appraising our Fresh Air Brother's spacious abode.
He had an entire house to himself, which he admitted he only used the front part of.  And he had several
gardening areas, his own trees and live, croaking frogs!  For a Canuck stuck in a Tokyo suburb,
this was as good as coming across a pizza slice.

 

The following day's heavy rain didn't keep us from our sightseeing goal.  Travelling in Japan is usually
a crowded affair, but we had the mountains to ourselves that day.  Tourists of the Japanese variety
chose to heed the signs warning to stay off mountain paths during heavy rains for fear of getting washed
away by random gushes of storm water.  Nothing could keep 3 city-weary gaijin and their adventurous host
from their goal.  We were on the lookout for Mitsumine Shrine, a complex established in honour of o-inu-sama
(Dog God).  Chichibu was one of the last residences of the extinct Japanese wolf, whom the temple was built for.
Some still believe that the wolf is alive and well deep in the forest.  We certainly didn't see the real thing,
but there were plenty of carved images of the creature in various ferocious poses.  Though the main shrine
was undergoing repairs, we enjoyed our cable car ride (solo mission) through the foggy mountains,
and admiring the lesser attractions of the grounds.  We returned home, changed our socks, made tea
and chatted into the night about our future plans.

The sun broke on the final day of our trip, and after feasting on fermented soy beans (natto), eggs and rice
at Denny's, we toured the clown car through the mountains.  Our final stop was the Nagatoro river
area where we encountered a 92 year old shopkeeper who kept slapping our backs and telling us
to return often, and 3 homeless Japanese artists.  One of the artists told us that no two visions are the same.
We each see life in our particular way.

For me, the weekend charged me with fresh air and made me yearn for the mountains of my wedding and
the open spaces of Canada.  The conversations about travel, the demented nature of war games,
the fragility of nature and the sheer absurdity of being foreign in Japan renewed my spirit and gave me
the energy to fight on in Soka's approaching heat waves and endless traffic.

Good luck, John, in your quest for meaning.  You are always welcome to crash with us, wherever we may find ourselves.

 

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