"Kozix
Copper Capers"
James
Kozick
One
minute we were on the street in the rain. The next we were in
the Anan, Japan police station surrounded by Anan's finest. Then
we were being whisked away in the back of a car with a police
light resting on the back deck of the car with a uniformed Anan
policeman speeding us to an unknown destination. The story you
are about to read is true. This could happen to you.
We
arrived in Anan, on Shokoku Island, on a train from Hiwasa where
we had been getting a glimpse of the Pacific from the other side
and staying at a Buddhist temple. Anan was the first place we
didn't have a pre-arranged place to stay.
The
public phone in the train station was less than desirable and
my cell was useless. So, we circled the train station area on
foot for blocks to find a hotel with a good phone to call around
and find our next preferred place to stay - another traditional
Japanese Inn, ideally nearby the sea.
The
rain was coming down harder now. We were getting wet and cold
& there was no hotel in sight. Then we saw the police station.
The
Japanese police have more in common with British Bobbies than
our American testosterone Robocop counterparts. Don't mess with
them, but they're definitely more service-oriented than we're
used to in the States.
We
slosh into the station and ask for "Hoteru." Within
minutes the police turn into our instant travel agency. Their
English is as limited as our Japanese and they naturally think
we want a "Hoteru" room. One cop, who had become sort
of our lead travel agent, hands me his cell phone with a "Hoteru"
person on the phone speaking just enough English to say he has
a room for us and asks me how much we want to spend on the room.
I
look at Stephanie like a deer into headlights and ask "What
are we gonna do?"
Before
we knew it, the group of Japanese cops kept growing around us.
I lost count. They were all pitching in trying to help us find
a "Hoteru" room. Exasperated with not being able to
explain that we weren't even looking for a "Hoteru"
room, Stephanie says in Japanese, "We're actually looking
for an Inn by the Sea!"
Then,
instead of throwing up their hands in disgust at these fickle,
rain-soaked Americajin gaijin, they all switch gears to help us
find a room by the sea.
They
huddle and talk among themselves. Then our lead travel agent/cop
imitates driving a car and says in English, "Wait, we drive
you!" They next thing we know we're being rushed into a cop's
private car with a Police light resting on the back dash.
His
car is a new, plush Japanese car not available in the States.
It has digital everything. As soon as he turns the key his radio
starts playing rock music - with a strong REVERB sound effect
echoing around the car. (I hadn't heard anything like this since
high school!) After a while, he turns around and points to a set
of controls between us in the back seat. (I've never seen any
buttons like this on any cars in the States.) He gives us a smile
and reaches to press one of the controls. I'm thinking, "Here
we go. Two gaijin about to be ejected James Bond style into the
rice paddies of Anan by this cop." ("My name is Bond.
James Bond")
He
presses the button, but instead of an ejection, the entire back
seat of the car begins to vibrate. (After all that walking around
he station, it feels great on my back!)
So,
we're vibrating. The Beatles are now on the radio and they are
vibrating in reverb. For all I know the cop is vibrating. We're
racing and vibrating down the road and we still don't have the
slightest idea where we're going.
With
the James Bond theme song vibrating in my mind, I'm eyeing the
digital display on his dash and can tell he's speeding through
Anan like only an Anan cop could get away with.
Finally,
he pulls into a small village and points to a building on the
side of the road. Then he pulls up to a nearby beach, points and
says "beechi." Next, he turns around and heads back
to the building he just pointed at. We all get out of his car
and enter the building.
In
the building the cop introduces us to a couple - the proprietors
of this traditional Japanese pension by the sea. They serve the
cop coffee and us green tea. It turns out the cop is an old judo
buddy of the proprietor.
The
proprietor writes a price on a piece of paper - for the pension
room and meals. Following a discussion by the three in Japanese,
the cop takes the paper, scratches out the price and replaces
it with another price several thousand yen lower than the first
(the price for kids!) The proprietor agrees. The cop agrees. We
agree. It's a deal.
The
cop leaves. Later we're served dinner Japanese style on the floor.
The whole family sits with us as we eat. There are four English/Japanese
dictionaries circulating as we all attempt to communicate with
each other. We're the first American/English speakers to stay
at the pension.
The
next day was filled with our edits of their pension web site in
exchange for a surprise tour through Japanese Wild Boar country
on precarious single lane mountain roads, a climb up a rocky Pacific
viewpoint and a ride to our next stop - a remote Japanese fishing
village.
We
weren't boared.
Next
- life in the fishing village - raw fish for dinner and octopus
for breakfast! MMMMM. Followed by a visit to a remote shop where
the shopkeeper was using an abacus to add up the purchases. ("How
much RAM have you got in that abacus, anyway?)
This
could happen to you.
Contact
James Kozick
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