senseless nonesense

 

Rambling.

Japan – language – loneliness – sailors at last - the next plan

 

Japan is different than anywhere I have traveled before.   To the eye, there is a seeming commonality with the western world.  There are interstates and bridges and vending machines, Starbucks Coffee and cell phones.   But under this illusory semblance is a far more divide.

Firstly, more than a language barrier, there is also a different alphabet, or, no alphabet; they use a entirely different symbolic system.   I believe this accounts for the poverty of English speakers here—it isn't only learning another language—but a whole new system as well.

When I go to the grocery store, there is absolutely nothing on the packaging to give a hint to what is inside.   I have bought iced coffee thinking it was chocolate milk.  I bought dish soap today, bought it entirely on its appearance, hoping that it isn't washing-machine soap or some like.

I walk down the street and each shop is as unidentifiable as the next.  The irony comes when trucks drive past with English catch-phrases and brand names.

I have only had two clear conversations with English-speaking Japanese.   One yesterday, with a guy who had grown up in Portland for thirteen years; one in October.  This is scant conversing.

 

However, yesterday morning while running I noticed a foreign yacht (a nice steel one I might add) on the dock at one of the big marinas.   That afternoon I went to introduce myself and was happy to find them amenable and they offered me to come aboard.  I was glad to accept.  

It turned out that they have been in Japan for something like 18 months and have seen a fair lot of it.   They laughed at my stories of inability in the face of linguistic difficulties.  That is just the way it is, they said. You need a goal and a logical approach.

One story let to the next which led to tea, then rum, then dinner, then coffee.   This was the first rum I've drank with a sailor since Vanuatu in early September.  Wow.  How the time goes.

 

The strange bit is that I find I was more lonely back in South Carolina than I am here, all alone.   I read in a book about a solo sailor who said he was never alone at sea, only amidst a city full of strangers.  In many ways this is true for me.   I can't remember being lonely at sea, but sometimes I'm lonely in port thinking of people who aren't there.  But certainly, sitting at home, waiting for someone to call, then they don't, then I'm lonely.   (This is often my own doing.)  Strange to think about.  It isn't how one would suppose it.   I can't even hold a simple conversation, but—currently—I'm not lonely.

 

Japan is busy and sophisticated.  Cars, cars, cars.  And yet, most people ride bikes.  It is so great to see all these little old ladies riding these old jalopies.   No wonder they age well: they are fit. (And they don't wear helmets.)  I miss the quiet of the islands.  I miss general communication—being able to get things done in an expedient way.   I can't even find a hardware store!  Distilled (as opposed to mineral) water was right out of the question.

I love the people.  Great hospitality and generosity, courtesy; but I feel obstructed.   Ineffectiveness is a bore and life is too short to be unproductive.

My friend Brian is coming in a couple of days from China and we will spend some days or weeks sailing around so I can get a truer feel for the country, instead of simply sailing away without giving a place a chance as I sometimes do.   In the meantime I am working on my batteries which are now dying.  (Hence the distilled water.)

 

So, in short: Life is Good.  I am invigorated to be back doing what I love to do.   I am rejuvenated after the time away.  My head is clearing of the fog that has plagued it for months now.  Here is the current plan:  Sail from here to the Philippines, there to . . . maybe Borneo, but south eventually to NW Australia.  From there I will sail the Kimberlies south along the west coast of Oz to Perth, then west around the south of Oz to Hobart, Tasmania; and from there across and to Dunedin, NZ.    There I will look for a steel hull and perhaps some med. Training.  That will be through Nov. or Jan. of this year.

 

So there, my 2008 Annual Plan.  There are some sizable holes in it currently.   As always.

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