Yesterday Cara and I put on our safari hats and headed to the nearby island of Gogoshima for a taste of the simple life. Gogoshima is one of two islands off the coast of Matsuyama City here in Ehime Prefecture (the other is known as Nakashima). Both islands are easily accessible via a 15 minute ferry ride that leaves from a port on the outskirts of the city.
I was told that the primary function of both Gogoshima and Nakashima is to produce the mikan (mandarin oranges) that put Ehime Prefecture on the map. True to form, our hike through the southern tip of the island revealed groves upon groves of mikan trees stretching on through the rolling hills.
The main locations of interests on Gogoshima are two medium sized mountains for hiking, as well as a beach area located on the backside of the island. Gogoshima is also home to an elementary school, junior high school, and hospital, so civilization on the island does exist.
Given that there were so many hills of varying sizes on the island, it was difficult to locate those two specifically designated for hiking. I don’t think we ever found them. We did however take a long walk that took us from the port to the beach and then through the mikan groves.
I saw garden snakes, lizards, jellyfish (or perhaps something manmade that resembled a jellyfish), herons, and TONS of spiders. The vegetation on the island seemed lush and diverse, but since I know absolutely nothing about plant life, I can’t act as your botanical guide.
By far, the best thing about the trip was meeting all the kind folks on the island. Since we decided to hike away from the port area, we quickly found ourselves trekking down an isolated road in the middle of nowhere. Houses dotted the roadside to the right as waves crashed at the beach to the left.
Though we had both packed water bottles, I took the opportunity to ask literally the ONLY other humans I saw, a passing elderly Japanese couple, for a recommendation on where to get some water. After the husband gave me directions to a nearby vending machine, the wife whipped out a big bottle of freshly bought ice tea.
She cracked it open and of course insisted on filling up our bottles. I told her to stop halfway up but she said “absolutely not” and kept pouring to the tippy top. She then instructed me to drink some and waited for me to do so, staring intently. Once I had taken a gulp and nodded to indicate my newfound refreshment, she filled it back up to the top again and smiled.
One thing I have been constantly struck by since moving here to Shikoku is the genuine kindness of everyday folks. Day to day human interactions here are so far removed from the stereotypically crowded streets of Tokyo, where everyone seems incased in their own personal emotion-proof bubble. People here actually say hello to you as you walk down the street. Someone will stop and spend the time to draw you a map if you don’t know where you are going. These random acts of kindness continue to joyfully take me by surprise.
After a number of “domo arigatos,” we parted ways with the elderly couple and headed over to a general store on the recommendation of the husband. After a few turns down dusty alleys, we entered into what was very likely someone’s home and shopped at the most makeshift convenience store I have ever seen.
The shop was run by a plump and jolly older Japanese woman with white hair. She had only one tooth and cackled laughter after any utterance whether it was funny or not. There were lots of noodle bowls available for purchase but no way to boil water, so we settled on a mishmash of pre-prepared items. The pickings were slim but the resulting menu for our beach picnic was hilarious.
It was like we were contestants on Super Market Sweep, frantically grabbing random items off the shelf in a desperate attempt to create something that resembled food. I think we ended up with fried fish cake, whole sweet red beans, bread, savory mochi, orange marmalade, and big cans of beer.
I had asked the shopkeeper about water, but she responded that they didn’t sell water, only beer or tea. Without missing a beat, she then reached into the refrigerated case, pulled out a large bottle of spring water and handed it to me, saying I could have it. I tried to refuse, but she gave me a host of reasons as to why she didn’t need it, the main one being that she prefers to swallow her nighttime medication with either tea or beer as it is, so water is useless. This was followed by assorted cackles.
Paying for our lunch was also incredibly charming and fitting given the circumstances. Since there were no prices marked on any item, I stood patiently while the older woman flipped beads on her abacus and muttered numbers out loud. She arrived at a price of near $11 US, but then recalculated twice due to “errors,” bringing the final total to somewhere over $8. I was twenty yen short while trying to pay with the coins in my wallet, but before I could hand her the bill, she said “That’s fine, that’s enough,” and let out a brief cackle as she snatched the coins from my hand. Hands down best convenience store EVER!
We had our picnic by the beach. The tide was out so there was a nice flat surface to sit on. Much appreciated was the fact that the rain proved the weather forecasters wrong and took a hike for the day. Though the sun was by no means blazing in the overcast sky, I still managed to get fairly sunburned. I didn’t realize the extent of my redness until I looked in the mirror at a department store.
In general, I find this area of Japan to be so relaxing and peaceful; I believe it has to be healing for the soul and the mind. Walking around Gogoshima, it was so easy to be engulfed in complete silence, to be surrounded by nature and not see or hear another soul. Coming from places like Seattle, and Stanford, and Tokyo, I am so accustom to noise and bustle in my everyday life. When all that noise is simply erased from the picture, the resulting calm is liberating and cleansing.
I think oftentimes silence really can be golden.
B.E.W.
No comments:
Post a Comment