(The following is a story about my recent trip to Bandai, Japan as part of the 25th anniversary of Oliver and Bandai’s sister city relationship.)
It’s dark when we arrive at Narita, and I’m confused. What day is it? It’s been hours since leaving home Saturday morning.
Fortunately our tired group is quickly claimed at the airport by our interpreter, Naomi. She has such energy and joy we can’t help but be delighted. She has a special gift of being able to help everyone relax and make friends with our Japanese hosts.
Soon we’re on a bus to have dinner in Narita and an overnight stay in Tokyo. My tiny hotel room in Hitachi reminded me of a train compartment – a window, bed and chair with no space in between. My TV atop a desk could only be viewed by turning my head round backwards. This is okay because I’m not interested; programming is all Japanese game shows.
The evening was not without adventure as my entertainment this night turns out to be riding a minor earthquake.
I was so fortunate to go on this trip. I was originally apprehensive, not knowing what to expect travelling with people I didn’t know to a distant, crowded country of customs far different from my own. But I soon dropped my jitters.
My travel buddies were great company. Ron and Tara Hovanes, having previously visited Bandai, took away the fear by coaching their experiences of local custom.
Japan, as I thought, is orderly and clean. Tokyo feels anything but crowded, until viewed from the top of Sky Tower, the second highest structure in the world.
Outside Tokyo, we travelled wonderful roads, both toll and secondary highways. I didn’t expect such a green countryside – miles of rice and vegetable fields, and small villages.
Along the route we had our choice rest stops equipped with gift/food stores, a line-up of vending machines and clean bathrooms with heated toilet seats.
I was intrigued seeing an ingenious method for road maintenance traffic control – simply a wooden man’s figure, complete with hard hat, waving a mechanical arm. The arm, lit up in flashing red lights, moved slowly up and down to warn of road construction ahead. Very effective from a great distance away. I saw several of these “robot man” devices along the way.
On our second day in Japan we arrived in Bandai, greeted by the most charming, hospitable and exceptionally polite town hall mayor and town managers.
When leaving any place of business, the staff line up outside the front door to wave and smile at our departure.
A new, hot pool and ski resort hotel set in the now autumn coloured slopes with a golf course across the road is to be our home for three days. Our days are filled with numerous bus trips visiting Bandai businesses, temples, historical sights, tourist spots, schools, and a hospital.
The most memorable tour for me was the lacquer ware factory. Here, several artists sit cross-legged on the floor in individual niches, producing exquisite lacquer ware. I was struck by the knowledge these elderly artisans have spent years refining their craft on the floor of a cold, dimly lit factory. One, whose job was to grind down pieces with a sanding cloth wrapped index finger, had obviously worn down this finger to the first joint. Another older gentleman painted horses on a tray, copying a photo that was on the floor in front of him.
The work areas had me cringing and thinking of the comparative luxury I have in my basement studio, painting part time. How would these artists react to my neatly arranged shelves of labeled paint pots instead of sitting amidst the clutter, which looked like complete chaos? And yet, these master artists barely looked up from their work, absorbed in making fine brush-stroke details that would surely destroy my eyesight.
The factory owner treated us well, eagerly showing us the history of this art produced since 200 AD.
After the factory part of the tour, we were ushered into a retail space that enticed with a variety of shiny lacquer ware pieces for sale. My wallet could only afford a few pairs of chopsticks but that entitled me to pick a “straw” from his hand. My win: a teensy wooden spoon, he said, could be used for measuring spices. I shall treasure it.
Visiting the schools was special for all of us. We visited Bandai’s three schools – elementary, high school and kindergarten. We brought a variety of Canadian and Oliver flags, pencils, clothes and toys. In exchange we received brightly coloured origami and individually designed book marks.
The uniformed students were politely interested, but for the most part, they kept to their books. Very orderly. Even the kindergarten kids who happily lined up bunched together in the gymnasium. They sang us a song and afterwards we joined them in singing together, “If You’re Happy and You Know It, Clap Your Hands.”
Why did I take up space in my suitcase with a lovely pair of red, high-heeled shoes, only to wear them the few steps between our bus and the front door of where our celebration events take place? I soon learned to shed my shoes at every door and put on the one-size-fits-all. We even had special slippers to access the bathroom.
Sitting on the floor to eat can only be performed by the young, fit or experienced. Our hosts quickly realized their 10 Canadian guests preferred pillow seats next to a wall for which to lean heavily against. Ten sets of legs extended in every direction can take up a great deal of restaurant space.
The food was delicious. Our hosts pre-selected our menus: a small salad, miso soup, and a divided plate containing small morsels of fish, mushrooms, pickled vegetable, sushi, and colourful unknowns. Sometimes this was accompanied with a “woodcutters lunch box,” a round wooden steam box with rice and meat or fish.
I must say, Japanese beer is delicious as is the sake, used for our many toasts. “Campi” for “cheers” was shouted several times during our meals.
Our Tokyo lunch near the famous Sensoji Temple was at tables with inset grills in which to cook our own. A bowl of layered goodies topped with a raw egg was presented. We’re instructed to mix heartily using our chopsticks, add sauce and turn out onto the grill. Wait four minutes, turn and grill the other side, then flip onto our plate. I want to try this at home.
Bowing is another learned custom when travelling in Japan. It takes time for two people to stand squarely in front of each other, smile, bow, raise up, and smile again. Only at this juncture should you present your business card. With both hands holding onto the card in front of you, offer the card with outstretched arms. Once it’s accepted you move on to the next person to repeat the greeting process.
Our sister city relationship is highly regarded in Bandai. Not only by showering generous hospitality, the people of Bandai expressed their belief in the importance of keeping a close connection to Oliver as a community existing beyond their society.
I learned a lot during my short stay – valuable lessons to think more globally and love living in a world of contrasts.
Language and customs are not a barrier, knowing beneath all the politeness is genuine warmth and hospitality. It was only three days in Bandai, but at the end I felt I was saying goodbye to good friends.
Marion Trimble
Special to the Chronicle
