Conversations in Kamakura

It is rare, in Japan, to have a stranger approach you on the street and strike up a conversation. So rare in fact, that it hasn’t happened to me in the nine months since I moved to Tokyo. In contrast, this was not a rare occasion in China or in the U.S. Of course, I’m not even counting the two million times someone approached me on the street in Shanghai and asked me if I’d buy a “DVD, Rolex or Mont Blanc”. In Japan, no one just walks up to a stranger, much less a foreigner, and asks them anything. That is, until yesterday on my day trip to Kamakura. Then I hit the jackpot.

On the hour-long train ride from Ebisu station in Tokyo I was reading an article on my iPad when the 80-ish lady setting next to me pointed at it and said “ōkina denwadesune?”, or “that’s a big telephone isn’t it? As best I could I explained to her that it was an “ai pad-u” and showed her some of the functions. She was especially taken with the ability to stretch my fingers and make the words bigger. At Ofuna she told me the train was stopping because of a problem and I should follow her to another train that would take me to Kamakura. I followed her as she rocketed up and down stairways and to the right platform. As we waited for the train I noticed she was about 5 feet tall and the roots of her hair had a bright orange-red tint that matched her coat. At Kita-Kamakura I thanked her and got off to walk to the Engakuji Temple.

When I left Tokyo it was raining but as I entered the temple grounds the sun came out and the wind began tugging at the huge cedar and pine trees that towered over the temple buildings. This was by far the most beautiful and peaceful temple I’d been to in Japan. There were very few people and the complex was dominated by the old growth forest. I sat on a bench near the hulking wooden entrance gate and listened for a long while as the wind rushed through the high cedars and tossed around the giant paper lantern beneath the gate. I never get tired of the whisper of the wind through evergreens. It’s one of the three sweetest sounds on earth (baby laughter and rushing water being the others).

After a spiritual refill at Engakuji’s forest I took a trail up and over the mountains overlooking Kamakura. For most of the way I was all alone, losing the trail here and there, marveling at the twisted trees and the calming views out to the ocean. At the top of the mountain I came upon a Shinto shrine and a fork where the trail split into five routes. As I was pondering which way to go an old man with a pink poodle popped out from between trees and asked me where I was from. He said his daughter lived in Salem, Oregon but before I could ask him anything else his attention focused on two young ladies walking by and he bounded off toward them to ask them to pet his poodle.

I selected a trail and soon came across a young man setting by a trail sign rolling a cigarette. “That’s a nice camera you have,” he said in English. Another unsolicited but welcome conversation! He was about 28 years old, working part-time jobs trying to get by while he studied to become a nurse, “a safe career” in aging Japan he said. He had studied sociology at PSU in Oregon and had lived there for 8 years. He couldn’t find a job. Back in Japan for a few months he still couldn’t find a job but was enjoying being back in his hometown of Kamakura. “We need more nurses he said. We are hiring lots of Filipino nurses but are running out of them.” I wished him luck and set off downhill.