Goodbye, beloved country

Is this "See you later," or "Sayonara forever"?

We’re back in Japan - in my case, just a short spell. What to do when jet lag has you up at 3am? Go to the beach! I got there before sunrise and took in the stars, the sound of the waves, the scent of the Pacific. How I love the beach! Some Brazilian fellows in the parking lot added to the ambience with some lovely tropical rythms.

a couple dawn patrolers scoping out the scene

fisherman sez, “hmm, where are they biting today?”

Yuichiro hoping the swell picks up enough for the sweet right that breaks off the tetrapods

Joao and his posse providing ‘music’ (and blocking the road), ‘cause who wants to just listen to crickets and waves? Booooring!

sun rises over the dunes- on the beach now (imagine surf sound- you can’t hear the rap from here)

I found a good spot where only one guy was out. The waves were fairly small but fun, and no longboarders out yet to snake the good ones.

The Saturday crowd arrived early, but I got my share while the sun was just above the horizon. Often I’ll take a pass on gentle, crumbly waves, but though fairly weak, these waves held up for some long rides, almost all the way to the beach. Plus, when it’s surf-trunks temperature, it’s almost always fun to go out, even in slop.

after the early session. a bit of a crowd now, but lots of waves to go around

other riders…

the odd head-high peak, unridden!

btw, this beach experience is brought to you by Yamaha. And why not, they’re the big cheese in this town.

beach situation suggestion - flotsam and cute surfer girl sold separately

flotsam

CSG

So why am I blogging about my morning at the beach? I guess it’s because I still feel a little ambivalence about returning to the US, and a perfect morning like this doesn’t help. I’m pretty committed, got my ticket last night and there’s a car in Seattle waiting for me for my drive back to Montana, but it’s tough to leave Japan. There are some wonderful things about this country, in addition to the friendly surfing crowd:

• It’s totally safe. There’s virtually no violent crime and you and your kids are safe everywhere.

• The Japanese are uber-polite (if not effusively chummy like many Americans/Canadians/Aussies)

• things work

• things run on time

• promises are kept

• people mind their own business

• they talk quietly

• they work hard

• women put on nice clothes before they go out

• eating out is cheap

• buses and trains run everywhere

• bicycles are everywhere

• sarcasm is rare

• the cops don’t hassle you over trifles, like minor traffic infractions

• the kids are adorable

• the girls are beautiful

• my family is here

So why in the world am I leaving again?

Because the entire country has gone bonkers with the covid mania. They are still sounding the alarms, canceling events, urging extreme caution, using plexiglass and plastic screens everywhere, requiring the test for entry, setting up a two-tier society (convenient easy entry at airports for the jabbed- testing and quarantine for the unjabbed- starting soon), reminding you to do this and that constantly on the PA system, and of course, the masks are everywhere. Those beautiful girls and cute children have no expressions for two-and-a-half years running. I don’t know who is beautiful and who is not- everyone is hiding behind the veil.

Your local friendly grocer. “Refrain from talking.”? When are we gonna be human again? A: Never

I guess it comes down to this: to make it here, until things return to ‘normal’, I’ll have to suck it up and put on the mask. And good luck trying to understand what the heck my students are saying behind the cloth. My heart is not in it. Secondly, for all their good traits, the Japanese are basically rule-following, obedient people, no matter if the rules are sending them off a cliff. Like Mr. Hashimoto, my mentor, told me at the high school when we discussed the masks, “We must obey,” and that’s that. He feels the same about the jab.

I thought of opening up a ‘no-mask’ school, but I don’t know- will I get enough takers? I told the owner of the English school who hires me for teaching gigs about that. He looked at me like I was crazy. “No, you won’t be able to open such a school.” Later he said, “Yes, I agree with you; the mask is permanent. But I don’t care. It’s simple - you take it off when you go home, then you put it on when you go out.”

The battle is probably not going to be won here in Japan. I want to return to a place where people are saying “no more” and they are unlikely to go back to weirdland without a fight.

It’s tough leaving, though.

“Hmm, that’s not a bad right. Might have to get back out for a couple more rides…Now why am I leaving here again?”