On The Road - Day Three - Killing Time Osaka Style

Outside of the travel objectives for this three day trip the other purpose of making the jaunt over to Luke’s was to be closer to the extremely out of the way school they were sending me to as Office Day filler. I had been sent there last month and had been told my two hour there and back train rides to cover were over with as a new teacher as slotted in to take over the classroom. The ever popular mix-up occurred and there the school was again penciled in on my schedule and rather then waking up early to make the two hour trip I decided that this would be the perfect time to head on out to visit Luke and his surroundings. Not only would it place me closer to the school but because I was traveling to work I could chalk up the costs of some of the travel as an expense to get reimbursed. A FAX sent last week informs me once again that I should not be sent on this ridiculously far teaching expedition again but I wouldn’t place any bets on it.

Luke had to teach an early morning class so after the morning cup and a bowl full of Chocolate Pillows (yes, my friends, they make an excellent breakfast cereal) we were off to walk his son to school. Now, kindergarten in Japan is called Kenda, or something like that. Mog, maybe you can correct me here. When Luke says it, because of the accent, is sounds like Kendo and so the last two mornings I believed that we were walking his son off to be trained in weapons combat for six hours a day. At this rate this kid would be wielding swords by the time he turned six. Did I not mention Ninja training in the third trimester? Look at what happens, I thought, in the toddler stage. These kids are trained to be contract killers! I would have to be mindful of this one. That morning he stood over me could very well have been a warning that he could send a brutal chop to my larynx at anytime shattering it like a fallen wineglass. All I had going for me as defense was the naivete of children as there was a small bubble within him that actually believed I was a Sumo Ninja Samurai. I had to play that angel up at all times or risk decapitation. When we were out of sight of the boy I whispered over to Luke: “Isn’t he a little young to be doing kendo training?” Luke laughed and explained the misunderstanding to an embarrassed but simultaneously relived me. They kid couldn’t kill me with one chop…at least not yet…they plan to enroll him into martial arts courses and then there was that video of him smacking some karate instructor with a large stick. Wait a minute…maybe he WAS in kendo. Ack!

I thanked Like again and asked him to extend it on over to his wife who was working the early shift again. Before I left he introduced me to my new love: the discount ticket machine. Baby, where have you been all my life? These machines and sometimes little shops can be found scattered around Japan, usually outside of major stations. They are places where people who have over purchased tickets that went unused sell back to the vendors what is no longer needed. These returned tickets are then but back into circulation for the public and sold for usually a few dollars less then what you would pay from the normal wickets. When you consider the amount of train travel done in Japan by a single person each month these discount tickets can add up to quite the savings. We had used the machine for our Kobe tickets yesterday and now I managed to knock off Y400 from my return trip back to Osaka. I’ll have to hunt around for one of these things at my home station although they are printed entirely in Japanese with no romanized translations thus rendering them impossible for me to read. Also, you have to know the correct combination of tickets to place through the turnstile slots and had Luke not been there to instruct me I imagine I’d be dealing with injured knees as the gates slammed into me and the annoying buzzer proclaimed to all present that I had made a mistake. Still, if I can get the hang of some of the basic text and memorize the markings for the stations I usually go to I can start knocking off some cents here and there that could be placed towards more useful things like bags and bags of Chocolate Pillows. Luke told me he would try to make it up my way one day before I left and I told him my frigid floor is always open to guests like him and I stepped onto the train, flicked the MP3 Player on to some Johnny Cash and I dozed.






By the time we pulled into Osaka Station I had a good five or six hours to kill so I walked about the station area for an hour or so popping in and out of the shops and snapping photos of the towers that make up the Osaka skyline. Avoiding large train station crowds is now becoming second nature to me and I can weave and bop with the best of them but strap a camera to me and I just become the idiot that pauses in the flow of people because I saw something that the lens might enjoy. Stopping to get such a shot I was mobbed and pushed off to the side where I saw the familiar redheaded logo of Wendy’s. They have Wendy’s in Japan? Bacon Mushroom Melts? Biggie Fries? I followed the arrows and then my nose and drooled outside the window and though I had planed to step in I realized that if I were removing McDonald’s from my diet what good was it if I just replaced it with another fast food chain. Instead I turned around and boarded a train out to Osaka Castle.



The path to the castle is now lined with Cherry Blossoms only just budding when Mog and I visited back in February. I can safely say that, having visited the Mecca of blossoms in Yoshino, stood under the trees of Himeji, walked under the arches of white in Tenri and now down the path in Osaka that I have fulfilled any obligations I may have to the Japanese to partake in their image defining trees. The petals are already falling from the blossoms here in Osaka as the season is coming to a close. The reason why so many flock to the trees in April is because they only bloom for a few short weeks. The Sakura of Osaka castle were now snowing down on the area turning the ground into a carpet of white and pink. Before Himeji Osaka-jo was the best castle I had seen here and now, although still beautiful, it just didn’t have the same shine sitting there above the trees. Off in the distance the clouds were moving in but for now the sun had brought out people on their lunch breaks and groups were snapping open lunchboxes (plastic containers resembling microwave dinners back home only filled with rice, fish and other tasty Japanese mainstays are lunchboxes here and not those bulky bins from back home) and quietly enjoying the last of the blossoms floating around them. The view of the city skyline from one of the high castle walls was where I choose to sit and have my snack. The chocolate in the middle of my Chocolate Pillows had melted a little in the sun and heat of my travel bag and it made for a scrumptious coating on the pallet.


I munched them down snapping off shots of the skyline when a cheerful Japanese man with a camera no bigger then an eraser offered to take my photo with the buildings as backdrop. Ever wanting to get more Megan Shirt images out there, I pulled off my sweater as he stared oddly at my half strip tease before snapping away. My only regret is not holding up the Chocolate Pillows. This snack and Megs, two of my favorite things, together for the first time would be an epic event in the history of man.




After the last sweet pillow was consumed I toured around the castle doing a complete circle walk of the grounds and finding other small buildings that I had missed on my first outing here. I believe this castle is best viewed from afar, however, with the perfect spot being the main bridge you cross to get you onto the grounds. The image of Osaka-jo sitting atop the blossoms is the postcard for Osaka and is the best angel to view this city landmark. Closer inspection does reveal some nice detail, however, and the zoom lens on my camera always works overtime when I am around such amazing architecture.




Closer inspection does reveal some nice detail, however, and the zoom lens on my camera always works overtime when I am around such amazing architecture.


Near the ticket gates a group of women asked me if I could take their photo, all smiles and bows and I asked them to return the favor adding another shot to the Megan Shirt collection. You, my dear Megs, are getting around!


On my way back to the bridge I came across five women all with gigantic cameras. They were wedding photographers (I assume) and were focused on a young couple sitting on a bench by the castle walls. I patiently waited for them to move and took my own photo of the couple dressed in traditional wedding kimonos. The man is actually wearing Tenrikyo robes, my first sighting of the garment outside of the Tenri setting.





Just outside of the main entrance to the castle an old man was earning his wages of coin by performing a puppet show. His act was pretty repetitive as the puppet only did one or two alterations in movement under the control of the puppet master but the crowds, both foreign and Japanese, enjoyed the show set to the chorus of Japanese children and traditional Japanese musical instruments. The guy and his puppet were going to make off with quite a haul come the end of the day. During one of his smoke breaks, the old man, not the puppet because, you know, puppets don’t smoke…well, Ed the Sock is the acceptation, I tried to talk to the old man but he was extremely deaf, probably from having to listen to that loud children’s chorus so frequently, and so I just tossed a few coins into his bag and walked back to the train.

On the train I was getting some pretty strange looks from people and I realized that I was still wearing the Megan shirt. Meg’s face has a way of causing international incidents and I zipped my jacket up to ward off any other people who may be trying to understand this strange foreign fashion statement. Meg’s mug now concealed evil thoughts started roaming through my brain and as the train clacked down the track I started forming the foundations of the Megan Shirt Challenge, post forthcoming. I still had two hours of classes to teach and two hours of train travel to return me to my heater and coffee pot and couch bed and crosswalk and though it has been a great three days on the road it would be nice to get back home.