July 17, 2002

• 
  
  I'm going to make an assumption.
  
  I'm going to assume that most of the people reading this (I'm not sure I can use the nipples on chest analogy anymore) have never been to Japan and might be interested to hear a little about what life is like for me over here.
  
  So what I'll do is sort of swing down that alley from time to time as the fancy takes me.
  
  Like it has tonight.
  
  Tonight I thought I'd tell you about my night time stroll.
  
  I live in the suburbs of a city with a population of about 250000. Well they call it a city anyway.
  
  These particular suburbs consist of the usual conglomeration of rice fields, temples, convenience stores, shrines, apartment blocks, drink vending machines (including beer), private houses, schools and more drink vending machines.
  
  I am fortunate though, to also have a river (the Sakai Gawa) which runs through it. Don't get too excited; it's a very small river but actually quite picturesque and has koi carp swimming along in it.
  
  My walk takes in three main points, each with a specific purpose and the whole stroll has its own purpose other than simple exercise.
  
  Leaving my house, I head down the road (no pavements here and the road is barely big enough for two cars to pass) towards the river and towards the first of the main points, a bridge.
  
  But the first main point is actually the third main point so we'll come back to that in a moment. What I do is walk on a little further and cross over a small white bridge instead.
  
  It is at about this juncture that I delve into my pocket for the doobie I prepared earlier. This is what gives the extra purpose to the endeavour. You CAN do the walk without but it's really not the same thing....
  
  By the time that doobie and I have done our thing, we have arrived at the second of the main points, which as you know, is going to be the first.
  
  the fumikiri
  
  This is a level crossing, as we say in England; probably a railroad crossing to those Stateside. And the thing about this fumikiri is that you can walk UNDER it. You have to kind of duck your head down a little as you go under but before you know it, you're standing there with train tracks about 2 foot above your head.
  
  Now, I know that none of you have any stress in your lives because none of you are married to my wife, but I am and I do.
  
  And I have found absolutely no better form of stress relief than a doobie and the fumikiri. Doobie hits in just as I get there and (because I know the best times to get there) I get to scream everything out of me like a banshee while two express trains thunder past each other in opposite directions two feet above my head.
  
  And I let it out. As long as I can. And it feels good.
  
  I duck back under and out into the normal night time world again. I'm always slightly fearful that someone else might be out at that time and see this wild eyed, shaven headed foreigner appearing like that but no one ever is.
  
  Heart still going boomboomboom, I head off to the next main point; the local temple. In through the large wooden main gate which is closed but never locked, I come in to the temple garden and find what I have come for.
  
  the rock
  
  This temple garden is a moss garden. It's very beautiful and is magically lit at night by lights that never shine directly, it seems, but bathe the area in soft light. To the left hand side is the rock; about one and a half metres around and about one metre at its highest point. I have absolutely no idea where the rock came from but it a fantastic rock. Striated with age, it seems to me almost a living thing and I love it dearly. Feeling like I have disgorged all the negativity inside me at the fumikiri, I now purify myself with the rock. I even hug it if I'm feeling particularly ambient that night.
  
  Next to the rock is a stone bench, placed there I am convinced, for my convenience . I sit there in the semi silence, my music the frogs' croaking chorus in the rice field nearby, as I contemplatively smoke a cigarette and get all spiritual on my ass.
  
  Smoke done, I haul myself up and head on. Into the return straight now. Along the riverside, occasionally peering over garden walls to look at the ornate and beautiful gardens inside. Past the big old cypress tree where the miserable looking monkey sits chained during the daytime. Past the big house with the white walls and the gekkos scrambling into crevices as I walk by. Past all that and on to
  
  the bridge
  
  OK, now the bridge is a bridge, but it's also a musical instrument. It is an old, hollow, metal bridge that gives off different sounds according to the type of footwear you have on, how heavily you walk and what walking style you choose to cross it with. Of course, it's not ideal doing it alone. Three people is best, each doing things differently; a percussive extravaganza every time you go over the river. And at night it's great. Alone, I get a simple, deep booom booom as I cross but by shuffling a bit at times and doing a bit of nifty footwork I still get to feel that I have created something special and possibly woken a few of the neighbours up as well.
  
  So that essentially, is my night time stroll.
  
  I hope that one day I can take you on it with me.
  
  

  • 12:08 pm
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