Last night I met Kuniko at the station after work. She had gone out for drinks with the usual group of her coworkers. It is kind of like a stress relief group – when somebody has an especially bad day they meet up in like an alcohol-fueled support session. I think Japanese teachers have one of the most stressful jobs in Japan.
So I met Kuniko at the station and she was primed for some drunken shopping. The Lawson convenience store right next to the station is good for this purpose, since it is filled with seasonal and temporary items to try out. We got a few items of junk food, and the clerk (who knows us well) just smiled and filled up our bag for us. He’s always trying to sneak in extra items because he likes us, but I live in fear that it will get him fired someday.
On the walk from the station to home we heard a familiar noise – kind of a bugle call playing from a recording. And as luck would have it, we stumbled across a ramen truck. Ramen trucks are a lot like ice cream trucks in that they travel all over and play loud noises to attract customers, but of course the clientelle are completely different.
I’ve heard this particular ramen truck before, but every time I run out to find it, it is gone. This time there was no escape – we ran up and waved him down. The truck was much larger than I expected, and it turns out that it is a converted camper/small bus. The guy stopped the bus right in the middle of the street so We could get into the bus and sit down at a booth inside. We ordered up a couple of bowls of noodles, and the guy moved to the back of the bus and boiled the noodles and started assembling the meal. Outside the sound of the bugle still played loudly, and all around us cars, pedestrians and residents looked out the windows, snapped pictures, and stopped whatever they were doing to check out what was going on. This ramen truck was unique in that you can actually get inside and eat, and so it got a lot of attention. The owner seemed oblivious of the traffic problems he was causing, and didn’t seem to worry about bothering the neighbors. In his case this attention had the potential for drumming up business, and while we were finishing our noodles a lady came running up with a tray and ordered three bowls to go.
We drank a beer with our noodles and talked with the owner a little bit. He has a set route, based on his experience of where and when business will be. Mostly he tries to be where the drunk people are, so the evenings have him patrolling the train stations all over Akashi city and Kakogawa. It sounded like he only comes to Okubo once or twice a week, so it explains why it is hard to track him down. He gave us his card, though, and said if we want he’d be happy to drive anywhere to serve us noodles.
I’ve been here six years and this was my first time eating ramen inside a mobile restaurant. I didn’t even know this was on my list but I guess I can cross it off now.
