jayyy
Anyway, here's the rest of that story...
I started my hitchhiking trip outside of Fukuoka, going west toward karatsu, a white sand beach with a famous ancient forest of tall trees. But when I climbed the ramp up to the main road, it turned out the road I was counting on from my atlas was a toll-fee expressway; it was illegal to even be there. The toll booths were in plain sight.
But just then, a little two door car pulled over. There were two foreigners in the front in their early thirties. "Get in the car, you can't be here!", the one on the passenger seat exclaimed. I threw in my bag as quickly as I could and swung into the back seat.
"where are you going?" They asked as I pulled in.
"I'm headed to karatsu, but its fine if you just take me as far as you're going."
"Karatsu...You're looking to go to a beach?"
"Sure, that was the plan. I'm just here to see kyushu and see what its all about."
"Well you want to come to a cool beach with us? We're actually on the way to a really nice one right now ourselves"
"Well yeah! That sounds great!"
"You want to eat cool Jamaican burgers barbequed on the beach? There’s a little burger shack down there"
"Well, yeah, totally!"
"You want a cool drink?" he asked, passing me a korean lime-flavored rice beer.
"Wow," I said as I cracked it open, you guys are all about cool things, aren't you?"
The driver was a Swedish called Marcus, the guy in the passenger seat was Don, an anglophone from Montreal. Marcus owned some hip-hop clothing shops around the city (I want to get into wholesaling. Let someone else deal with all the hassle", he told me later), and Don exported construction equipment to the United States. He got a finder's commission of about 2% on sales of what could be 2 million." The reason I got out of teaching is because if I wanted to make more, I had to work more," he told me later. Not anymore- the guy could literally drink for 2 weeks straight, shake off the DTs, get on a plane to Sendai, score 30 grand, and go right back to Fukuoka to drink and party some more. He had sprained his ankle badly after trying to twirl his Thai air stewardess girlfriend around the room the previous week, but he was having a hard time letting that’spoil his fun.
"How are the folks in Fukuoka?" I asked as we drove on.
They sighed, like it was something they put a lot of thought into. "A lot of *******s," Don said. "Its something about Japan, it draws them like flies. So you're Canadian? What part are you from?"
"Nova Scotia"
"Ok, that explains it. We have a theory- Marcus thinks Canadians are usually pricks, because he's had some bad experiences with them, but I've proposed that its not all of us, just the ones from the west coast."
"Yeah…people from out west have a tendency of thinking they're relaxed and back to nature, but they're so turbo-charged about it its like they lose the point. 'Out of my way! Can't you see I'm trying to take a peaceful walk? I'm canoeing in 18 minutes! You call this a latte? What kind of crap is this? The cinnamon topping is sprinkled completely unevenly! Take this **** back and get me another one!'"
Okay, I don't remember the exact details, but what I actually said was a lot funnier, and if anything even more insulting to Vancouverites. but anyway, this shameful betrayal of my fellow countrymen really broke the ice. We pulled over at the convenience store and stocked up with so many cans of beer and Korean chu-hi that they were literally falling out of our arms and rolling on the floor. The cashiers just smiled indulgently. Oh, those wacky foreigners!
Before we could go we had to go to Marcus's place to pick up his friend. We twisted through some of the most beautiful hills I had ever seen. "Oh...my...god", I said. We were fully out of town and it was getting pretty breathtaking.
They weren't really fazed, it was just another day in paradise for them. "If you're impressed by this, you've got to head south. The Fukuoka area isn't really a big deal."
We tore up one such remote hill (by hill I mean what would qualify as a mountain in most parts) along the coast, twisting and turning way too fast on a one-lane road. They told me a story about a crazy acid adventure they had had with their friends on a remote golf course we passed by.
"This is kind of dangerous, isn't it?" I said as we sped along. "I mean, what happens when another car comes toward us?"
Don shrugged. "Its not so bad. You can just drive into the bushes."
The house, as you may have expected, had not one, but two cars in various states of smashed up, bad accident-ness in the front. But more distracting was the house itself. Here's a view from the west patio:
http://copland.udel.edu/~09798/japan/Pht05121830.jpg
See that area on the other side? There's a sauna and a jacuzzi in there. It was a palace. The patio I shot that picture from had weed plants growing on it. And keep in mind, this is all facing the white-sand coast.
It was, and remains, one of the nicest places I've ever seen. Keep in mind I was living not far from Tokyo, in an offshoot of a massive, uninterrupted urban sprawl that continues along most of the country, from the Tokyo area to Nagoya to Kyoto and all the way to Osaka. After all that time of living in or near blade runner I was suddenly teleported to an undeveloped, unspoiled part of California. But I was still in Japan, still subject to that bizarre reality warp the place has, hanging out with people that from the appearance of things didn't work, lived to have a good time and owned a mansion. It was utterly mind-blowing.
The main living room it came off of was huge, but they had cleared the space so that they could dance. They had a telescope facing out the window. "Oh, you guys are into astronomy?" I asked "that’s cool."
They got a little less enthusiastic all of the sudden. "Oh, yeah, man, the skies are really clear out here. You can see everything." (more on that later.)
Macus's friend was an attractive Japanese girl in her mid-thirties. "What do you want to do?" she asked. "You're the guest, its up to you. Do you want to go canoeing?"
"its all good, I'm just along for the ride. But that beach sounded like a good idea."
"Sure. Lets go in the house for a bit first though."
What they wanted to do was light up. The patio I shot that picture from had weed plants growing on it. Marcus fired up the house music and him and the Japanese girl closed their eyes and vibrated to the beat. "You know what the worst part about living here is?" Don said as he drew a toke. "Cleaning that chandelior."
To be continued...
SeedOfChaos
Originally posted by jayyy
What they wanted to do was light up. The patio I shot that picture from had weed plants growing on it.
:D write more.... please :D. Dude, you NEED to publish a book. Really.
jayyy
Thanks! I get really encouraged to write this stuff down on here. I enjoy doing it, it brings back all the memories. Dunno if I have enough for a whole book of this stuff though, at least not yet.
continuing-
What made this so cool was that these guys had it all- they were making Japanese money and living in that’sort of gravity-free environment, but they were doing it on their own terms, in a friendly, laid back part of the country, out in the hills by the beach. I lived in Niigata, about 300km from Tokyo, but the urban sprawl only really stopped for the mountains. Moving westward, it goes on for about 600 kilometers continuously. The Tokyo area alone is 30 million people, that’s the entire population of Canada.
In Tokyo, the subways get so crowded they literally have people that push you into the trains. You can't find 50 square meters of uninhabited space, anywhere. The fast-food restaurants are all about the size of your living room, only with 3 or 4 floors. The bottom floor is just the kitchen and counter, everyone cramps upstairs to eat. When someone opens the bathroom door, you have to move your chair so they can get out. Its like living in a dollhouse. So it was great to see a part of the country you could breath in, let alone smoke dope in a palace of a house out in the hills by an almost tropical beach.
Don had heard about Kyushu as a ski bum in Bammf. Not Tokyo, not Kyoto- Kyushu. The fact it was in Japan was just sort of incidental. Its astonishingly beautiful, but for some reason -the expense of Japan, the distance, the inaccessibility of the culture, the fact that overall, Japan one of the least popular tourist destinations in the first world- it just got overlooked. the few that do go there want to get the cultural experience- castles, geisha, etc. But while Kyushu is actually the cradle of Japanese society, it doesn't have much by way of historical buildings compared to Kyoto or the main island of Honshu..
But it was great. Fukuoka is 2 million, big enough to keep busy, but miniscule by Japanese standards. "Tokyo is modern Japan," explained Don. "They consider people out in Osaka [the second largest metro area] as being a bunch of hicks and red-necks. Out in Kyushu, forget it. This is the absolute Ozarks as far as they're concerned."
"These people are the salt of the earth. A lot of people in the military. Its not a bad thing, but its a lot different from other parts of the country."
We were a while getting out of there. Marcus was on his cell phone for what seemed like hours, talking to what turned out to be his estranged wife. They had pointed out the home of an American on the way there around the point in the conversation where they told me there were a lot of *******s out there. The guy was sleeping with his wife.
But he was doing the same thing. His girlfriend was married to the American. The American had brought up physical threats against Marcus, who took them with grave determination. Antics like you wouldn't believe.
Eventually we made it down to the beach, stopping to only to buy even more chu-hi. The burger shack had been thrown together with junk and spare boards. Reggae music blared over the the purr of a generator. Don told me the owner, a dreadlocked guy wearing one of those Africa hats, had just gotten out of jail on marijuana charges. Don pointed out a capsized boat off the coast. "No-one knows how it got there, he said earnestly. Some illegal Chinese immigrants must have capsized on the shore, got out and just ran for it. Its stuck in the sand, they still can't get it out."
There was a beautiful couple there that had drove in in an SUV. Marcus's girlfriend, eager to get Don hooked up, pulled the girl over to introduce him. She said she was a dancer. "What kind of dancing do you do?" I asked. She shrugged and flexed out her pelvis.
They headed down the beach together. Me and Marcus stripped down and swam out. It was only early may, but the water was already pretty warm. After a while there was a large group of people hanging out and drinking on the beach. Everyone packed into their cars, and we headed back up the hills to Marcus's place.
tbc....
stevebakh
I'm really enjoying these reads :)
Thanks and keep 'em coming.
jayyy
Thanks. I want to write out the whole thing, but this one is taking a while...
We spiraled up the hills and back to Marcus's place, where we drank, danced and smoked dope. Under Marcus's encouragement, Don wound up getting in the hot tub naked with the dancer.
Eventually the party was in need of more beer and food. We were out of the delivery range, so me and Marcus headed out to civilization to pick up a pizza- big mistake! Sober he was reckless enough, buzzed up I feared for my life when he was behind the wheel. He drove like he was playing a video game. I was literally shouting at him to slow the hell down.
I haven't quoted Marcus much, but in reality he was kind of the brains of this whole operation, the owner of the house that Don was crashing in post-divorce, the guy that provided the pizza and kept the show on the road. Marcus was crazy, but intelligent, one of those ruthless personalities that cut through life and live on dizzying, exceptional terms. Like most decisions, it had been Marcus's to pick me up. Marcus had taken upon it himself to mentor me, the fledgling hitch-hiker in asia.
We ordered the pizza and went next door to the convenience store to get more beer. Marcus lit his cigarette from an unbought lighter on the shelf and motioned for me to do the same. "It is okay, this is Japan. You must understand this", he assured me cryptically.
We leaned against the car smoked our cigarettes, and got into one of those "real" conversations that’stoned people always have, that ongoing communication between the two of you that always seems to be happening when you don't have to talk shop, make plans or deal with other people. "When you rise," he said, looking off into the darkness, "People get angry. They don't like it, and they will try to stop you. You are breaking the flow, and they don't want that. You break free."
That was Marcus- liable to wipe out at any time, but free all the while, rocketing off into an outerspace far beyond anything anyone could ever have envisioned, a blinding mess of white hot light.
Back at the place, hours later when things had wound down, Don and I crashed in the living room and went to work on a big block of home-made hash and some remaining chu-hi's we had found on the floor of the car. I told him about Marcus's driving.
"oh, he drives way too fast. Did you know he used to be an ambulance driver in Sweden?"
We started laughing. It was the perfect job for him, it made total sense.
"And do you know why he got fired?"
Now I really lost it. He said it as if it was a given. He had trouble getting the answer out.
"They caught him using heroin!"
even more oncoming...
jayyy
Originally posted by John
I bought my plane ticket to Japan yesterday, you will never hear from me again.
Shut up! Seriously?? When are you going? Where to?
downhill
Jack Kerouac meets Japan........
Or........
Fear and Loathing on the Far Side of Tokyo... :rotfl: :rotfl:
Man I agree with SOC...Get it all written down and publish it!
I told him about Marcus's driving.
"oh, he drives way too fast. Did you know he used to be an ambulance driver in Sweden?"
We started laughing. It was the perfect job for him, it made total sense.
"And do you know why he got fired?"
Now I really lost it. He said it as if it was a given. He had trouble getting the answer out.
"They caught him using heroin!"
Oh man, I'm dying with laughter!! ROTF
jayyy
Don't kid about that!
One thing I was thinking I should say, espec. to John and KＡｌ, if you guys are considering going there in the future- While you'll see crazy stuff everywhere in terms of the pop culture, don't expect these amazing times to just sort of happen as soon as you get there. My friends in Niigata thought these stories were as insane as everybody else does.
I know people that live in Niigata, stay home after work and just watch "friends" episodes that their moms taped for them and mailed from Canada. All their stories involve stuff their students did in class, or something they happened to see while waiting for the train. Life is what you make it.
That goes double for the picking up on the street stories. There aren't a lot of foreigners that do that. I only had a few friends around my age that spoke Japanese well enough to go out to the non-foreigner bars and do that kind of thing with.
Japan is a really tame, quiet place in a lot of ways. I knew a young guy around 22 that told me, "When I came I always thought I had to be missing out on a big party going on somewhere else. Finally I just relaxed and realized this is what it is."
That’s true in terms of bar sizes outside of Tokyo. they're small and they seem tame. But there are things going on under the surface. That’s why I was so big on learning Japanese. I a lot of people my age that couldn't believe some of the stuff I did. It wasn't because I was more of a rock star or anything, it was just because I left the foreigner circles, worked to understand the culture and got out there. If you deal with Japan on Japan’s terms all kinds of stuff can happen. But you have to be open to it and expose yourself to it. It won't come to you.
to continue...
Me and Don drank late into the night. That telescope they had by the patio, as it turned out, wasn't for astronomy after all. "Remember that boat that was capsized on the beach? We know that guy, the guy that was bringing in those chinese immigrants. We were using the telescope to watch from the distance and see if the coast guard was coming. I sold him one of my cheapest tractors to help him pull it out of the water, but it got stuck when the tide came in."
He showed me the pictures on the laptop. You could see the capsized boat, construction vehicle...and the coast guard in the distance, watching the whole thing.
The subject moved to organized crime. "What about the Yakuza?" I asked. "Do you have a lot of them down here? Are you afraid of the?"
"They had a hit on me for a while. My old roommate Doug is a bartender at the Black Lounge- you met the owner at the beach today. One night at about
"But what he didn't know was that the kid was Yakuza, and the young ones are the worst, because they have something to prove. He showed up with 3 of his friends, and they put out a cigarette in his eye."
"Oh my god! Did it blind him?"
"For a couple of days, yeah. Then there was a hit out on him. I couldn't go anywhere because they knew I lived with him. So they would go up and down the streets of downtown looking for us. We hid out and had friends bring us groceries.
"Finally, the owner, who's a bit of a heavy himself, squashed the problem. So now all the Yakuza go to the Black Lounge and act like they're all the best of friends, and Doug sits behind the counter, pours the beer and does the Japanese thing, smiling like its all good."
"So yeah, I'm afraid of the Yakuza."
its winding down, but still more coming...
jayyy
The morning after was the quiet after the storm. I woke up listening to Marcus's girlfriend's toddler kids babbling in baby japanese, little fragmented sentences about a bear and what it did. It made about as much sense at the time as it does now.
Me and Marcus's girlfriend made coffee in the kitchen while Marcus continued his interminable argument/reconciliation with his wife on the cell phone. We were so far out in the country that I was stranded until Marcus could drive me out, but I already knew from the length of his conversations with her from the past day and night that that could take a while. We sat it out in the living room and drank our coffee.
Marcus's girlfriend had to drive her kids out to kindergarten, and go to a meeting she was already late for. But we're talking about some pretty lively kids, you can guess from the environment they're raised in. The little girl was a beautiful Japanese American; one day she'll be a pop star. But she was way better at dancing to trance music than following orders. Here's my attempt to transliterate their conversation:
"Car to go"
"Don't want!"
"Mommy get angry good thing? Car to go."
"DON'T WANT!"
"Mommy get angry good thing?? Mommy get angry good thing?? 5, 4, 3..."
Those kids ran to the car, their little feet pattering into the distance in scared, tearful rage.
Marcus headed upstairs, which I hadn't seen yet. "What’s up there? I asked, eager to document the rest of their fabulous house.
"Its more like a loft, just a big bedroom," Don explained. He looked at me seriously. "Don't go up there, Jeff. Seriously. There's stuff up there you shouldn't see." This from a guy that showed me pictures of his failed attempt to forklift a moored boat of illegal immigrants out of the coastguard's sight. In retrospect, whatever he had up there must have been a big deal.
More little scenes from that morning- me and Don sitting in the living room, nursing our hangovers and brainstorming on where I should go next. The dancer's would-be boyfriend (the SUV owner) had suggested Miyazaki, a beach full of foreigners, but Don regarded that as a tourist trap, and was more into Mount Aso, the famed volcano.
Marcus's girlfriend came back in from her meeting, pretty and distraught.
"I go in but late I say funeral but not sure maybe okay but I have the red nail polish. But the customer he is old man so he see pretty girl and maybe okay but I don't know maybe I get it I think alright."
And then she proceeded off into the kitchen to get some coffee.
Don gave me a look. "Did you understand a word she just said?"
"Un-uh."
Marcus's girlfriend- I say Marcus's girlfriend because I've forgotten her name- was actually a bigger player in this story than what I've wrote so far suggests, but for whatever reason she hasn't made the anecdote cut so far. But she should have. Most Japanese girls are deferential to the point of alienation from what’s going on with the foreigner's, but she was very much her own person, opinionated and smart. She was a graphic designer, living on the same vaguely entrepreneurial, free-spirited terms that her boyfriend did. She sort of oscillated between that high-willpower, too-cool-for-you attitude that some artistic people have, and plunging insecurity, appraising me with rotating loftiness, snobbery and respect.
gettin booted, the PM of Thailand is cracking down on net cafe's out of fear students will stay up late playing video games at the expense of their studies. More later...
jayyy
okay, back again- place across road still open. The only thing Thai people are better at than making unreasonable rules is breaking them. I love 'em though...
Later into the previous night, which I was enjoying, she asked me, "What do you think of this? What do you think of our lives and what we do?" Things were unraveling a bit; you could see the darker side to all the fun they had; the toll it paid on their personal and professional lives. They had taken time off for national holiday golden week a week prior and just never stopped. I told her coming to places like this was the whole reason I hitch-hiked in the first place. And it was.
Eventually, Marcus got off the phone and we headed out with his girlfriend, stopping at the burger joint to get something to eat. They talked in low tones, still ensconced in the soap opera that was their lives.
Marcus was keen on me going to Yakushima, a little known island south of Kyushu. Its exceedingly high rainfall made it much less habitable than its more famous cousin Okinawa to the south, but it remains a world wonder, a beautiful, sub-tropical place hosting the tallest trees in the world. Most of the island consisted of a huge mountain, which Marcus said would take me days to climb.
I had actually heard of yakushima from my Japanese girlfriend Yoko. Yoko was one of my first girlfriends that spoke no English whatsoever, and our conversations always followed these nearly ceremonious guidelines. Like if she wanted me to help her sell stuff at a Market yard sale, she'd go off on this carefully-planned, semi-dramatic, ultra polite speech about it and its ramifications before proposing I join her. I love Yoko, but when Marcus talked about Yakushima, it sounded a lot more enticing.
It sounded more than enticing. It was another by-product of his insane charisma. I would lunge through Kyushu’s lush natural center vine by vine, hitch a ride on a car taking the ferry over, and scale mount yakushima over a series of days. It was my destiny. It called out to me through the hills.
"Don't plan anything." He advised me in his hoarse, accented whisper. "Let things come as they come". They dropped me off at the train station so i could reach a southward highway. His Girlfriend hugged me, and they drove off and back into their own lives.
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