The Business Trip: Deliver Us From The Eliminator – Part 1

Things were not looking good and early Wednesday morning, after repeated attempts to procure some kind of information regarding this proposed business trip I was to be sent on were met with vague replies, I started prepping for another run of the Eliminator all the while cursing the Company’s name. I had been told three weeks ago, you see, that I would be sent to do some teacher cover for two days at the beginning of June. Imagine my pure elation when I realized that this would get me out of teaching my two worst days of the month not to mention get me a paid trip to somewhere in Japan, paid hotel and a little extra bonus on the paycheck for being so good natured in volunteering. After weeks of hearing nothing about this trip like where I was going, maps to the place, when do my tickets arrive, where is the hotel, you know, extremely important questions with only a few days left to go, I started questioning the Company’s competence yet again. Here is a place that runs timeliness of it’s teacher under the iron fist of the toughest Nazi but in situation like this I find myself now dealing with important things down to the final minute. It was yesterday morning when all my information was delivered to me not by a mailman but by my supervisor who had made the train trip himself with the package that was for some reason not sent to me but to him. He did not looked very pleased to be having to do this. He carried with him a thin envelope with these contents: four tickets (NOTE: the starting point was NOT from my main station but about 45 minutes away as my supervisor told the folks needing the cover that I lived in Nara meaning, of course, the prefecture and not the city but they mistook it to mean the city and started my trip from there), 2 paper tickets for a tram line, hotel booking confirmation and a very terrible map very small in size (I mean VERY small in size, only a few inches…makes a man feel inferior), obviously printed off the Internet, and all in Japanese. This was my mission, should I choose to accept it. I thought for a few moments about the Eliminator, contrasted it with some vague directions for this trip such as “I don’t know how to get from _____ to ____ so it is best to ask when you get to ______”, I thought about the Eliminator again and took the package. All knowledge of me would be denied should I fail. I was heading to the prefecture of Fukui.

Fukui is located between the Northern mountains of Honshu and the Sea of Japan on a small plain which can be likened to the prairie provinces with a better view. The prefecture is known for having the oldest castle still fairly in tact (Maruoka-jo, dating back to 1572), the Eiheiji temple complex founded in 1244 now acting as a training ground for Buddhist monks but also a place, like Koya-san, where tourists can stay and get a flavor for the monastic existence. This area has been one of the major places in Japan to unearth dinosaur fossils most which can be seen displayed in the capital city’s museum. Also located here are the cliffs of Tojimbo, a rocky coastline resembling Ireland’s Giant’s Causeway. I would not venture into any of these places, sadly, due to the fury of nature. More on this later. The city of Fukui, the capital and also where my hotel would be located (something that would cause problems that evening), has taken upon itself the symbol of the phoenix because here is where you can find the world’s largest collection of fans of Jean Gray. Who believes me? Raise your hands! Dad put your hand down you nut! The symbol really stems from the devastation this city has endured and recovered from to form the very modern city Fukui is today. In 1945 Fukui was a prime target for bombing runs during the war and was basically bombed flat leaving only ruins and charred remains of what the city once had been. Undaunted by the destruction of their city, much like the rest of Japan, the people set to rebuild however unlike the rest of Japan Fukui would face more destruction before the decade ended. In 1948 the city was leveled by an earthquake once again causing terrible destruction. The people set to rebuild once again wondering what else could happen to their city. Were they doomed? Cursed? The answer to that question, thus far anyway, has been no as Fukui has survived and has been reborn into a city of 271,417 acting mainly as a hub for tourists staying there as a base for the prefectures other tourist attractions. The city boasts one of the best Sakura viewing spots on its road of over 1 mile of cherry trees lining the Asuwa River as well as some castle ruins. If the weather had been on my side I may have been one of those tourists. Instead I was just a man on business.

So it would be one train from Kashihara, the old Sakurai Line on that train that runs on the honor system as nobody asks you for tickets, transfer at Nara station to Kyoto (I did both of these trips earlier then I should have giving myself more buffer then needed, I think, as I had to wait about an hour and a half for the next train. With the time I managed to wrangle up some breakfast and walk the same hallway of Kyoto station about seven times thinking that if one were to be left alone in this place it would be very much like Jack Torrance in the Shinning) and then from Kyoto station on a train so fast they have dubbed it the Thunderbird which would take me into the Fukui prefecture where I would have to catch yet another train to the class. The scenery was quite nice on the way up to Fukui as you travel along the mountains and Lake Biwa, the largest freshwater like in the country and is also the world’s third oldest as it can be traced back to over 4 million years. That time frame has amassed quite a history of species as it has been said that nearly 1100 living things reside there with 58 species unique to only this area. The view probably would have been much better if not for the dark clouds hovering above it signifying some rain in my not too distant future. Lots of flatlands to view out the window resting under the mountain range. Lots of rice patties. Again, it reminded me a lot of my bus ride through the parries back home without the large mountains with tops misted by cloud. The trip to the town of Takefu was a total of about three and a half hours, give or take. Takefu would be my branch off to get to the class. The city is a major electronics and clothing hub for the area as well as a major business city. A strange bit of trivia here: This small city is home to a collective of Brazilians brought over to work in one of the large computer factories here as well as a community of Chinese working in the clothing factories. Like the Yagi area where I live, Takefu is also boasts a large collection of English teachers who reside here to teach at the area schools. The city thus is extremely diverse. I did not spot anybody else but the Japanese, however, my ganjin goggles needing some cleaning.

The rain started falling while I was on the train pelting the window. The thunder boomed. It looked like it was going to be one hell of a storm but when I stepped off the train in Takefu all had subsided. The weather changes so rapidly here, my friends, it is as though it follows you individually. It is here where my directions become a little sketchy with those Company folks not knowing how to direct me. I feel very much like a character in an Ed Wood film longing for a Kubrick. The directions tell me to ask somebody to point me towards the station I need to switch to in order to get out to the class. This is easier written on a piece of paper by somebody I don’t know then done, my friends, as nobody out here knows an iota of English. Also we are now in a land where the signs are all in Japanese with no romanized translations on the train routs to help me out. In other words, I am up shit creak with a paddle the size of a toothpick. I did manage to find my way to the station by piecing together the fragments of advice from train staff and locals. Here was the smallest train station I have visited yet with equally tiny cars. I boarded a rickety two car tram that rumbled and jostled down the track so hard it was more of an amusement park attraction then a means of transport. I felt my lunch venturing back up my throat and probably turned about seven shades of green. I had my Kansai train map with me and had to match the number of stops on the map with the number of stops by the tram in order to figure out where I had to step off due to not being able to read the station names. This worked nicely and I found myself applauding my good sense this time superceding my shitty navigational skills.

I managed to find the class alright as well. This was a very small village, it looked like to me, and very different then the city I had just left. Man, things were going pretty good. Maybe all my worrying over poor planing on the company’s part was unfounded. All was going off without a hitch. I put the classroom key, dug out of the first floor mailbox, in the door and smiled. Yes, it looked like smooth sailing from he—

WHOOOOP! WHOOOOP!!!! WHOOOP!!!!

What was that?

WHOOOOP! WHOOOOP!!!! WHOOOP!!!!

An alarm? This class had a door alarm! I tried to stop it pushing every button on the now blinking alarm box next to the door. From behind me I heard the sound of hurried feet rushing down the building staircase. Ack! Shut up, alarm! Quiet! I couldn’t stop it and those feet neared to reveal a security guard with a very puzzled look on his face. I tried to explain that I was not breaking into the classroom. I mean, really, what was in there that I wanted to take? Flashcards? Actually, come to think of it, that fluffy red dice thing is very comfortable. Anyway, his look of bewilderment soon subsided into one of a person who has had to do this for us foreign types many times before. He stopped the alarm and let me in the room. Things were easy to find in the class and I organized the lessons with enough time to take a bit of a rest. I love that fluffy red dice thing! Parents and kids started to arrive 15 minutes early and instantly something was very different with this area of Japan then what I have become used to. The first parent smelled bad. I mean she stunk as though she had scarified a skunk in her stained Metallica t-shirt. What? She’s wearing a Metallica t-shirt! Another would come in with a ripped Jimi Hendrix shirt. The Japanese pride themselves on cleanliness, at least in the area I am used to they do, but here it was like the equivalent of the Southern United states complete with missing teeth, terrible haircuts, beer guts and tattered clothing. Actually, sort of reminded me of Cornwall. Cigarette stained fingers handed over to me kids with steel teeth. Yes, you read correctly, STEEL fucking teeth. They were like Rappers without the bling. These parents were extremely rude, as well. No smiling, very angry looks directed to me that reeked of dislike. I didn't even know these people. Okay, the parents of the kids I normally teach may have an excuse for their loathing, especially the one's who don't come to pick up their six year olds at the and force them to walk across the street in the rain while I scowl at them. These people up here don't even know me! One father actually came drunk to class, wobbly and reeking. He tried to touch me, swayed and hit the wall. His kid laughed through a mouth of only two teeth, dirt fresh on his face. Ack! I was in the Japanese version of Deliverance!!!! I swear if I had heard the sound of dueling kotos I would have torn out of there before the ass raping festivities began. These classes were somewhat challenging to teach because the kids didn’t know me, were pretty shy and it looked to me had been taught with more Japanese lingo than English as they had trouble with basics my normal students can usually grasp quite easily. They were also bundles of fire unable to stay focused or seated so I changed my normal teaching tactic to just playing a bunch of games to keep them moving inserting some educational merit here and there. Of course, this did not work with the 14 year olds who just wanted to chat with each other. I decided to play cards with them again trying to put in some of the lesson wherever I could. I feel my sense of adaptation to different learning curves and class abilities is getting better. I am evolving, Mr. Darwin.

Classes ended quickly and I walked back to the bus stop and waited…and waited…and waited about 45 minutes. No train came. I was just about to return to class to do, well, I really don’t know what, probably sleep there, when a train going the other direction showed up. I asked the conductor about the train I was waiting for. He informed, at least I think he did as all I had were maps with the Kanji translation of where I was headed to go by in means of conversational devices, that the last train to where I was headed had already left. Again, I cursed the company and this time with really detailed curses. I called them Son’s of Motherless Goats. Yes, I dusted off taunts from Three Amigos! Boy was I pissed off! The train driver said he was heading towards Fukui which I mistook as he was going there and so I boarded the train heading the wrong direction. I probably would have ridden this thing to the end of the line, far from my intended destination, if a group of what sounded like Russians stepped onto the train. The conductor quickly walked over to them and asked if they spoke Japanese. They did. He conveyed to them my plight and they helped with some translation. I would learn they were students studying here. They told me the train I was on was going through Fukui and not planing to stop. I had them convince the conductor to at least let me off in the city as I would have no clue on how to get there if he didn’t. He eventually agreed, albeit quite reluctantly, and would let me off in the middle of the track located in the middle of a street which was subsequently in the middle of traffic! Motherfucker! I dodged a speeding car and stepped back onto the train trying to at least get some direction to where the hotel I was supposed to be staying at was located. He pointed towards a large tower motioning me off the train and back into traffic. He really wanted me off his train. It was as though I carried some sort of plague. I raced across the street, the train tore off down the track with the helpful students waving at me with worried eyes. I was on my own now. The map that was already quite useless was rendered even more so because the directions were from the Fukui train station and not the middle of a road in fuck knows where.

Well, I had the tower to walk towards at least and the name of the hotel was easy to say: The Washington Hotel. The students had told me it was the most famous hotel in the area so if I got lost roaming the city I figured this would be an easy landmark to get directions to. I wouldn’t need them as they tower of the hotel proved to be enough guidance. This place was huge and looked to be a five star hotel compared to the one I had stayed at in Takutski. It is the tallest building in the entire prefecture with a restaurant overlooking the city on the roof, halls lined with Japanese artwork and a beautiful garden outside the lobby. With 355 rooms, conference halls, various eloquent restaurants, chandeliers, floors you could eat off of, the artwork and the best view in the entire prefecture at least the company spared no expense and set me up in the best place the area had to offer. Okay, so the room was pretty small, you had to pay the watch television, the light in the bathroom didn’t work and the hotplate burner to heat up some tea was broken but all these were minor quibbles. I felt quite wealthy walking the halls here with the ladies in spiffy dresses and the men in pricey business suits. I also felt very under dressed in my ballcap and wrinkled pants. The looks I received strolling down this swanky joint were very comical. I protruded and I loved it. I ended my day of travel with a purchased lunchbox from a nearing convenience store, a mixture of various meats and noodles over rice, and my favorite Japanese chocolate bar. It was 11am. The radio on the bed played some beautiful classical music and both these soothing sounds and a normal Western bed warded off the insomnia this evening. For the first time in a week and a half sleep came easy.