Last night I headed back to Futami to hit Denya yakitori, my old haunt. It was an easy enough walk to the nearest Sanyo railway station, Nakayagi station. On the way to the station I walked past a large hospital that is probably the nearest to our house – something to remember for the future. Just as I passed the hospital I walked across the path of about forty female college students. I realized from their conversations that they were nursing students working at the hospital for experience.
I decided to take the long way through Futami and followed the old footsteps of my commute to work at Takasago, and even walked by the local shrine where I sometimes get to participate in carrying around the portable shrine and narrowly escaping injury.
As luck would have it one of the regulars from Denya was there drinking alone, so between the master and Toita-san we had a lot to talk about. Toita-san got on the phone and called another regular (nickname = “Crazy Boy”) and we sat and caught up with each other and the master.
The place was semi-busy, with an odd mix of older folks, families, and us middle-aged alcoholics. “Crazy Boy” was talking with an older guy in the corner and his wife, and it turns out that he is one of the Futami “elders” that organize, manage and run the local festival. He called me over, and I was reminded of the movie “The Godfather” as he asked me what I’ve been up to, if I’m going to attend the next festival, and so on. We had a good chat, and then he called over the master and “Crazy Boy” and the had a quick huddle. I was wondering what that was all about, but soon enough it was time to go, and Crazy Boy offered me a ride to the station since his wife was coming to pick him up. While she drove us to the station he explained that the elder wanted me to serve as kind of the matsuri ceremonial leader next year. From what I understood of “Crazy Boy”‘s drunken explanation is that this spot is taken each year by a male that is between 30 and 40, and since I am going to turn 38 this year I guess they think they better hurry up. I’m not sure what the responsibilities are, but it involves dressing up all in white, and that this is an honor that is very rare even for Japanese people. I think these guys just want to shock everyone with a foreign guy, and I’m betting this will work. I’m a little leery of that much exposure, but everyone’s heart seems to be in the right place, so we’ll see what happens. Anyway, this year they’ve already got someone assigned, so I can go to the matsuri and check out what that person’s responsibilities are. As “Crazy Boy” said to me in Japanese, “it’s a great way to pick up chicks”.
Back in Okubo I realized that despite an evening at the yakitori I wasn’t even close to finished for the night, and so I walked down the street to Red Spanky, for a different sort of Japanese culture.
Red Spanky was fairly busy, and so I sat down at the bar between two other people drinking alone, and ordered up a daiquiri and some onion rings. The owner dropped by to say hello, and I had a great conversation with the part time helper who is a movie fanatic like me. The lady on my right must have been working up the courage, because she leaned over and asked me what I was drinking. We struck up a conversation in Japanese, and it turns out that she lives in Okubo. I saw that she had a wedding ring on, so it was a little weird to me to think that she was out at a bar alone. She was pretty drunk, but not out of control. The guy on my left was also really nice to talk to – he is a big snowboarder, and he has been trying to speak English more and more with the other foreigner guy that comes into Red Spanky, Rob. Rob doesn’t speak much Japanese, so I think everyone is more comfortable talking with me, but probably they are learning more talking with Rob.
Since Kuniko is out of town I was there alone, even though often Kuniko will join me there for drinks. I noticed that the bartender didn’t ask about my wife at all while I was sitting next to the lady, and that was the mark of a pro. Eventually it was time to go, and the lady, Kyoko, also said she had to leave, so we left at the same time. All the guys in the place watched us leave together, and as I write this the next day I’m thinking that maybe that was by design. Outside I waved goodbye to Kyoko and headed home.
The evening was interesting to me because of the drastic differences between Denya and Red Spanky – Denya serving the working class in the working class part of town, and Red Spanky taking care of the younger folks in Okubo that aren’t quite ready to go to bed yet. For now I am able to move in both circles, and as a Japanese language learner that is a big plus. I’m lucky to have made lots of friends at both places.
