1st Night in Nagoya 名古屋

The flight from Tokyo 東京 to Nagoya 名古屋 was very short. The plane was nearly empty, too. We caught up on just a little bit of sleep, after our long wide awake flight from Portland. Before we knew it, the plane was coming in for a landing at NGO, the Chubu or Centrair Airport, which serves central Japan. I didn't find out till the day we left, but this airport is actually built on a man-made floating island out in the ocean off-shore from Nagoya harbor and is the ichiban 一番 airport in Japan. Ichiban? Yeah, time to start learning Nihon-go (Japanese). Ichiban 一番 means Number One. As we were later to find out, Nagoya 名古屋 was going to be, for us, ichiban city.
We got off the plane, and went to fetch our army backpacks (which he had packed with sleeping bags and a host of other things necessary for roughing it in Japan—you will soon see, this was a mistake!). Clearing customs was a cinch. Taka's letter of support was accepted but maybe unnecessary. The Japanese customs and immigration people tried their best to seem official and somewhat forbidding, but they really were pretty nice. Very quickly, we were on our way to the train station, where Taka said he would meet us.

Here we are, through Taka's excellent photographic lens, seen arriving into the train station with our gear. It was both easier and cheaper for Taka to just come to Chubu on the train himself instead of
driving here. The train cost 950 yen one way, but it's still worth it. Trains are expensive in Japan. By the way, 100 yen = 1 dollar, so everything is easy to price out here, for Americans that is.
It was night time by the time we arrived. The train was not very crowded at first, but this same train goes through several cities on the way to Kita (North) Nagoya 北名古屋, our destination, and so about halfway through, it got very crowded. Crowded but always respectful and orderly. Even though we were the only "pink monkeys" in our compartment, and bearded ones at that, it seemed as though no one took any notice of us.

When we got to Kita Nagoya, the three of us waited for Akira, Taka's dad, to come with a car to pick us up. For the first few days, Taka rented a 4-door sedan to drive us around, and that's what Akira was driving when he arrived.

Our first ride in a car in Nagoya at night! I wish I had photos, but at least my mind is full of images, and they don't go away. Everything was strange, and yet, unstrange to us. Somehow we felt that everything made sense here in a way that things don't make sense in our own country. This was our initial impression, but it persisted. This is not to put our country down. But simply to notice that inside, somehow, we found ourselves "at home in Japan."

When we arrived at Taka's house, it was pitch dark. There are few street lights on side streets. When we got out of the car and walked up to the tiny courtyard that Taka's U-shaped house encloses, a light came on, so we could see our way to the door. We stepped up onto the landing of a small enclosed porch, slipped off our sandals, and entered, carrying our huge, heavy backpacks. Brock went ahead of me. I could hear a woman's voice, and see a woman about my age coming forward through the dark, very narrow hallway, greeting me with お帰りなさい "Okaeri nasai!" — I didn't even have a chance to say ただいま "Tadaima!" before she welcomed me. This was Akira's girlfriend. He is a widower, and since Yoko passed away in December of 2004, this girlfriend has helped him with "women's duties" such as welcoming guests.

Taka showed us to the room where we would be staying for two weeks. It was the only upstairs room in his house. Taka had bought a couple of new futons and we were expected to sleep in them. That's the reason why bringing sleeping bags was a mistake. We never used them. After putting off our packs, and changing into fresh clothes, Brock and I were asked if we had eaten. Since the answer was predictable, Akira and his girlfriend (I wish I had remembered her name, but people in Japan try not to speak their names, and I heard it only once) had already decided to take us all to a Taiwanese restaurant for some supper that very night. Although it was, as I found out later, within walking distance, we drove there.

Here we are, Brock and me, in front of the restaurant. The food was really good. In the first photo taken inside, you can see Akira and his girlfriend on the left, across from Brock and me. It's hard to believe
when you meet him, but Akira is 68 years old. When people see him and Taka working together, they think they are older brother, younger brother. Taka is 39 and looks his age, but Akira looks younger than
me. He is a very fine featured man, and very handsome. When we were talking at supper that night, and comparing ages, when I was asked, I replied 五十七歳 "goju nana sai," and Akira's girlfriend
exclaimed (in Japanese),
"me too!"

After enjoying this very delicious dinner, we headed back "home," and settled down for the night in our upper room. The windows were open, and there was a gentle, cool breeze. As we settled down to sleep, we noticed through the window a bright light—the Passover full moon!
And thus ended our first night in Japan.

おやすみ なさい Oyasumi nasai (Good night!)