Southern Hospitality

A quick summary of thoughts from today and yesterday before I head for Beppu by nightbus:

Beginning in Kumamoto, I was greeted with conversation by the Suizenji Garden's resident photographer as he was setting up his equipment for the day (I arrived as it opened). He offered to take a few pictures of me using my camera as "free service". While doing so, we met another fellow who, at the thought of accidentially intruding into our photo shoot, began to apologize profusely - in English! Incessantly!

I now understand the alien feeling we students were warned about by our Japanese instructors: not to over-do polite speech. It was bizzare to have this guy practically repenting as if faced with death. Luckily he made no attempts at seppuku in our presence (though the pictures might have turned out more interesting). It turns out he studies English in Tokyo and is still in university, though thankful he doesn't have to do part-time work on top of that. After talking a bit, he was kind enough to give me a postcard, which was met with my last keychain souvenier. He sure needed something to focus and calm with, though.

Reigandou was a confusing place to reach by bus. After much map checking and staring at long lists of tiny kanji I knew it would be faster to ask the police and let them solve the case. There was a koban directly attached to the bus boarding area - why not? Given how long it took them to figure a course, I would have likely wound up in a caldera somewhere on the other side of Kumamoto. I wound up taking one bus to an intermediate hub (with about 30 boarding areas) and mine had 8 different routes it serviced, but the one for Reigandou doesn't mention it as a destination, so you have to head for some onsen in the hills and get off at a random stop, oh and what time does that come because it's a Thursday let me see... it isn't normally a holiday but it's kind of near one so I guess they turned it into a holiday.......... blah.

The cave - when I finally reached it - was surrounded with beautiful scenery, and I can easily see why it would be a choice spot to write a book or die at. Seeing as it was such an ordeal to get there, I was worried a little about the return trip since these rural buses don't come by too frequently. If I stayed more than an hour, the last one would pass and I'd be spending the night with Musashi's ghost. There happened to be an older man accompanying two lively kids as I was leaving for the climb down the hill. As he drove past me later, he asked if I'd like a ride. There was plenty of time to make it to the stop, but being a fan of random encounters such as this, I gladly hopped in.

It was only a few minutes before reaching the bus stop, and I said I'd be fine waiting until it came since I had bought a book before traveling for such situations. He was heading into town anyhow, so I was glad to be rid of any bus headaches. The kids in the back were thrilled at the chance to talk with me more, and I was happy to be the object of their curiosity. Descending the hills provided such a magnificent view of the city and surrounding mountains and forests, I wish I could have asked him to pull over for a picture. My excitement was compounded by the speed at which he took the tight mountain turns in a slight fog. Graceful stuff, though. My two interrogators were keen to know my likes and dislikes on a host of subjects. I hoped to spark some interest in foreign cultures and travel, but maybe at that age Badmiton is still much more important.

I was let off at the perfect spot to quickly catch a train south for Kagoshima. Sitting next to me on the train was yet another guy who was more than happy to strike up conversation (in surprisingly consise English) and help me by explaining the necessary transfers. He went to Kagoshima University and studied diving, which he later explained had more to do with bio-diversity. His recommendation was to visit "Kaimon" - another mountain - at the end of the southern peninsula below the city. I regret not being able to visit... Sakurajima took a lot out of me and I felt one mountain was enough. This man's most memorable quote from our talk about rural travel: "cities like Tokyo are not Japan. I'll drink to that.

Not 5 minutes after stepping out from the station and into the warm Kagoshima winter, I heard a "hello?" from behind. Turning from the map and looking down, there was an elderly Japanese man greeting me with slow (but learned) English. In short, he wanted to chat and so we went to a conbini (I will just write this from now on since "convenience store" is way too long and I don't care to endorse specific ones) and grabbed a pair of beers... and here I thought I was too young to be sitting and drinking in front of a train station in Japan. One more "cultural experience" to add to the list, I guess. My new friend - English name: George - had traveled to Georgia in the U.S. during the civil rights movement. Interestingly, he says he was never the target of discrimination. His most lasting memory seems to be simply how "there were so many black people!"

This was probably the strangest day of meeting others while traveling ever. Too much at once, perhaps!