Life Still Happens

This weekend I went on a voyage much like the famous Odysseus did thousands of years ago. My goal was to drive from the heart of Kyushu--where I live--to the stomach of Kyushu. I accomplished this goal and it will be a voyage that I will not soon forget.

The winding 265 highway connected me from my area near Namino first to Takamori where I again saw outstanding views of Mt. Aso from the south as well as the strange camel shaped, globulous hills that exist out there.

My 1996 Dauhatsu Charade Detomaso was passing through the winding roads like a champ--often at around 2000rpms, 55-80kph. Agile, yet efficient--my good friend despite its squeaks.

Then after miles (or shall I say kilometers) of curvy roads I ran into some strange sights. For instance, a middle school (Shiiba JHS) that was laid out on a sort of cliff in a deep arroyo next to a formidable damn and amidst the cliffs and cherry blossoms. I also found a bridge over green water with sights and two workermen that stay clear in my mind.

A little later I was driving up a curvy road that was only around 15 kilometers from my intended destination and all of a sudden an early nineties Subaru Legacy (a beast of a beat up car) comes storming down the road like nobody's business. I immediately pulled as far to the left of the road as the road permitted and slowed down leaving plenty of room for the Subaru to pass and then watched as it didn't turn enough and slammed into the right front of my car.

It turns out both of our cars were still drivable, although my right front wheel was a little farther back than it should be (which suggested a damaged suspension). The dude, a 55-60 year old man from Kagoshima-ken (the prefecture on the southermost part of Kyushu) appeared to have bad eyesight and maybe a drinking problem. He was nervous as heck; I think he knew that he had driven poorly. I decided to leave him there in order to find reception for my phone and a friend who could help me communicate in Japanese.

Then as luck would have it, or not have it, I was driving down another narrow road and decided to pull over to let a big truck pass and then somehow landed my left front wheel in a ditch. That was nice. Complete with a huge crashing sound of the bottom of my car hitting pavement. That had to happen at some point with all these crazy ditches on the roads here. And this ditch was very small and invisible--a randomly placed road-water drain (unlike the most of them that run down the entire side of a road and are pretty noticeable). Haha. And as luck really would have it, miraculously a truck shows up with four men ready to pull my car out of this ditch. Meanwhile the Subaru shows up to drive to the town with me where I met my friend and other friendly people (like a Japanese forestry professor who taught at Duke University for a year, his wife, and their three little kids) who would help me translate the events in the police office for a good 2.5 hours. As usual, the foreigner will probably get the raw end of the deal in the insurance case, but we'll see. Since nobody saw the accident it is my word against his and I guess that leaves it up to how honest he will be.

And after all this I will have no regrets. I made it safely home with the help of my friend John after a train ride from Kumamoto City. My car is sitting at a Daihatsu dealer (that is about three hours away) waiting for insurance to be dealt so that it may be repaired. Luckily I have a nice friend in the town there to keep an eye on it for me.

Life is by nature hazardous yet most of us stay alive and well amidst the chaos for a good while. I am not worried about the monetary loss, if there is one, because it is probably not too substantial. I am just happy that things like this don't get to me too badly, and that I walk away with few scratches and many memorable moments. So I will continue making my journies.

I believe that every era in a person's life offers its special rewards as well as its special drawbacks.

So I see my own era and it has its ups and downs. I've past the time when I can think my actions have no important consequences, that ended after college for me and maybe earlier for some. I've long accepted my lack of invincibility and rather have started to embrace fragility of life.

But the truth is that even though at times I feel more like a forty year old with a bad back, I am still young and therefore lucky in certain special ways. For one, my life is not yet commanded by a series of inevitable daily and yearly imperatives like paying off a mortgage or raising kids. That means that right now I have the freedom of space and time that lets me do just about anything and also gives me the opportunity to attempt to shape my life however I may wish. That is no promise for a good life, but it is certainly a good chance that I shouldn't give up too fast for more stability and less unknown. The unknown is exciting.

Which leads me to the question: what kind of life are you really seeking, because you have just about as good a chance as anyone of achieving that life.

The answer, for me, is something I can't quite describe. I would like to be surrounded by jolly people and a good amount of friends among them. I would like the weather not to drive me indoors all day but I also wouldn't mind a night by a fireplace from time to time. I want to never get bored with the world, which means I should probably inhabit a place with a culture that doesn't promote apathy (scratch most of my mother country off the list). Of course I would like to have love and perhaps a family in my life for I think those thinks are like sunny weather to your life (but also not necessarily essential for happy life because one's own company can also be pretty good, haha)(let's face it, we achieved self-consciousness partly in order to not go insane when we are alone and that also meant we were capable of even more crazy things).

So with my rare freedom I can only promise to do my best to go out and seek it. Currently I am interested in the city of Melbourne. It sounds like my ideal city.

I hear that New Yorkers often get addicted to their city. A New Yorker, after at least a couple years of residence, may feel that any other place would be inadequate in comparison. And the truth is they might be right. If you get used to that kind of life then it would be hard to ween off. Of course you could also burn out. So that city is kinda like a drug (again, let's face it). A cool guy named Mark once called NYC "the belly of the beast." I think that might be a good characterization. Thanks dude. Well I am not really going anywhere with my NYC reference, so I guess I'll just end here. I do plan on stopping in the city at some point in the next year (just to warn you, "big apple," Ted's a comin' atta way, you mos bettah watch it, coz).

some images for thought

Here are some images I wanted to share. The dark one is of Uchiyama sensei, a teacher who I now sit next to who is also well represented in this blog. It's very dark though. Then there is the flower with the rain drops in Hawaii. And then there is one of my pre-school kids who is one of the most joyous people I have ever met.

It was sunny today, or at least the first half of the day. Three hours this morning I was playing baseball with the middle schoolers. They are such great kids. I told a teacher the other day that I would be willing to bet that the 2nd graders at Ubuyama JHS form the single best, happy, well-behaved group of students that exists on planet earth. There are probably other good classes in the world, but I don't know if they could ever beat these kids.

my choice is artist

These are the eyes of ******* ********, or so I remember her name to be. I knew her in Italy when I was just a freshmen in high school and she was a college student. She was my cool older friend and we played video games together in the shady arcade filled with smoke. She was really funny and cool. I miss her. I guess I am not the type of person who forgets people easily.

Ever since art school high school or maybe even before it I think that I have become someone who wants to be an artist. It is almost as if I cannot imagine my life otherwise. I think that to me the only life to live is the passionate artist's life. The person whose occupation it is to feel and express life, its lows and highs and things in between. This is my passion. I guess that it was sometimes hard to see that because it is not necessarily a very specific passion. It is not like being passionate about singing or law or medicine. Although I appreciate those things as well...

So I would appreciate help along the way of course. I should be applying to art schools next year and hopefully will go to one in the bay area. I am even flying back to my parent's house so I can start work on a portfolio by taking pictures of my work. Coicidentally there are also some nice beaches there (yes!).

So wish me luck and apologize if I end up being a poor social worker in Chicago rather than a poor artist in Hayward.

weight on us?

Will you ever save the world? Probably not, sorry.

Will you ever see the world? Maybe.

Will you ever enjoy the world? Maybe.

Will you ever give your friends the time and friendship they deserve? I hope.

I am listening to "Smog" on my computer and it's 1:33pm on a Wednesday. It rained buckets in the past 36 hours. Now it's not raining. Oh yeah, last night was the new principal's welcome party. We each spent around $50 on hours of all-you-can-drink and good, pretty, tasty food (which unfortunately started with a course of raw horse meat, which I ate so the horse would not die in vain and so that I could absorb its spirit).

Milk and Honey

While the good honey here is not necessarily cheap, the milk here is given to me each day with the school lunch and almost always tastes fresh, wholesome, and smooth. Perhaps it is because it's whole milk and the cows are happy cows.

Sometimes I wonder why I would leave such a place and such a post. I am often treated with the utmost respect in this village. At highly formal events like graduations and pre-school entrance ceremonies I am treated on par with the town mayor and school principals. It is an honor, no less. And people are always complimenting me on my thrift store bought suits.

I am given so much here. I have more than enough food and time. I have a car and it has gas whenever it needs it. I have the most pleasant and easy job, especially considering the amount of respect that is bestowed upon me. And then there are all of the special perks of living in such a special country, on such a special island of that country, in such a special prefecture of that island, in such a special district of that prefecture, and in such a special village in that district. There are Japanese spa resorts here and there (world famous Kurokawa Onsen is just minutes away), volcanoes to hike. But by far the best of all aspects of this place are some of the world's most wonderful kids for whom I get to be the special teacher.

So why must this be such a temporary stay? Why? Why? Well, to start with it is by nature temporary. I have a three year visa here and one year is already a big chunk of that time. I'd be kicked out sooner or later. Secondly, my job does not really involve my whole self, rather just portions of myself, and thus makes me feel somewhat of a wasted soul at times. And thirdly, while I do love my friends and many people I have met here, I miss many other people that I cannot see while I am here and want to be able to see them for at least one substantial visit a year.

The funny thing is that I almost have everything that a person could want out here. I am the kind of guy who could be happy living very simply in a beautiful place with family and friends. I wish, quite often, that life could still be that simple. And yet it is not even close to that in this day and age. One would almost have to start a commune or something of that nature to achieve that kind of thing these days. Old people are now starting their own retirement communities with their friends nowadays--not a bad idea. I bet they have some smashing parties with cases of beer imported from England and Ireland and Germany, and Belgium. French wine. Italian olive oil. Greek olives, Spanish chocolate. Avocados, cheese.

Those of us who are lucky enough to live the good life are truly lucky, don't forget it. Then again people usually do forget it because they get used to--or worse, bored of--what they have. But it is a question who out there has found the key to unlock the happy life. I think many people would be surprised if only we could know the answer.

In the meantime life calls for a journey to find out what kinds of lives can still be lived in the world today. I am curious. I take life seriously in that I think that it is a gift that should not be wasted or sold out, or lived numbly. We'll see what we can do. Perhaps I will have to come back to Japan, buy a Honda Ape and teach more kids about the big wide world (or perhaps that would be too numbing as well)( I do have a three year visa though). But first I should, perhaps, go and help some good people win this November.

enchantedness

I was half asleep on Friday night or Saturday morning and a strange image came to me of some sort of Roman arches in a quiet, probably Italian, countryside (probably full of old, bending olive trees planted in rows centuries ago). There was some sort of special harmony to this image. Of course the weather was just right. Not too cold, not too hot. The sky would have been half full of beautiful, defined, bulging clouds. But it was not the weather that made this harmony exist in the picture. It was the extent to which the architecture in my imagination had grown into its surroundings, and conversely, the trees had grown into the architecture. While everything there had once been designed by a human hand it had developed not only a life, but a soul, of its own.


At its best, Kumamoto City achieves this harmony. Its ancient trees in the spacious fields of the park that borders the castle grounds provide a kind of space that is rare in any city. The castle's centrality in the city allows for many to enjoy its spaciousness and its enchantedness. On Friday I enjoyed most of the sunny day in the park next to the castle, lying in the grass and taking pictures of people and trees and the sakura blossoms. At one point some kids misplaced their soccer ball in the moat-like body of water that lies in the susbtantial dip between the park and the castle walls. It was amusing to see them work so hard to avoid getting wet and muddy, Here you can see one of them using a twig while trying to accomplish their task. In the end it was a few gusts of wind that brought the ball back to their still dry hands.



This happened just after my attack of estrangedness that I mention in the last post. Today, lightly contemplating my time in the city this weekend I thought about how a camera has much the same ability as imagination does. You start with a format, the film, the digital chip, the brain, and you are then able, almost regardless of the sometimes subtle specificities of the format, to create and expose an infinite variety of images/ideas/feelings within that format. So you start with your potentially generic format and you are able to do wonders with it as long as you can, and as long as you try. Of course not everyone has the luxury of being able to use their format; perhaps they lack battery power, time, energy, space, sanity.






In any case there were thousands of happy people in the park on Friday enjoying the cherry blossoms, sitting on blue tarps, having drinking parties with their offices, enjoying time with their family members, or just being relaxed and carefree. It is overwhelming now to look back on that day and all its peaceful humanity.