Encounters

A father trying to teach his young daughter how to pray at a shrine. Don’t stand at the middle, no, we don’t go there, that’s where kami-sama walks. Drop this in the box, it’s your offering. Say your name to kami-sama. Now we bow, twice. Yes, very good. And now we clap, twice. Now we bow again. Two, two, one. Remember that.

The solemnity of their moment.

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That old man on the Tokyo subway reading Ōe Kenzaburō whose choice I approved of with an okay gesture. His initial surprise on this unexpected overture, followed by a gentle nod of acknowledgment and eventually, a smile so wide even his mask couldn’t hold it back.

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The young woman volunteering at a hostel desk, dreaming of escaping the oppressive traditions she was born into. I won’t come back here, I just won’t, she said as she handed me my glass of water.

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That friendly train inspector who spoke poetically of someday visiting the Ganges while pointing at snow-capped Fuji-san in my window, as if the two were one and the same. On being complimented on the crispness of his English, he went pink beneath his mask and humbly credited Seinfeld. All of this while writing me up a ¥330 penalty for riding a limited express train on a local ticket.

***

That iPad pasted to a wall in a little street, my check-in assistant for the stay. It gently asked for my details, scanned my face first and my documents next, assigned me my bed, gave me instructions for the stay and upsold me amenities while letting me know that the only way in and out of the building was facial recognition technology. All for a nightly price of $16.

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That stranger at the next table who spilled his drink and jumped four times before turning and hugging me like a long-lost brother as Takuma Asano scored Japan’s 83rd minute winner against Germany.

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The museum attendant who noticed my obsession with Suzuki Kiitsu’s Rising Dragon and Mt. Fuji (after me having stood still by it for many minutes). Without preamble, she broke into an impassioned speech about the piece in pure, incomprehensible Japanese. I listened raptly as the minutes passed, her words strung together by the rapture in her eyes.

I understood nothing, yet I understood everything.