Lasting Friendship
- At November 28, 2021
- By admin
- In Annes Letters
0
Dear Family and Friends,
Once again my friend Noriko called, asking if I might be interested in a day trip. She had been looking through old pamphlets of places near Sendai and came across one for Hobara (保原), a town south of Sendai, almost on the border with Fukushima. “It will be wonderful,” she reassured me. “It is famous for textiles and fruit.” Indeed, the name 保原, Protected Fields, seemed promising.
We were to meet Noriko’s longtime friend, from university days, half way there. Then we would pick up a special train and continue south. Actually, the train was a regular local one, but on the last Friday of the month it offered a special ticket. For one small fee we could go all the way to Fukushima and back, getting off and on as often as we liked.
We soon arrived in 保原, only to find a rather unfocused town. There were large factories surrounding the area, huge trucks laboring past, and no city center to speak of. When we finally found someone to ask for suggestions of what to see, they would look astonished, think for a minute, and say, “I don’t know” or “There aren’t any. But there is a famous mountain, Ryou Zen 霊山, 20 kilometers from here.”
Without a word, the three of us decided to explore the town anyway. There were meant to be several temples and shrines, which might be of interest. And surely there would be a main street of sorts. So, off we went.
We did find dusty old temples and shrines, none with any sign of life. But there were also many kura, or storage buildings, where, in times long gone, wealthy families stored valuable items. And there was one magnificent wooden structure that surely must have been a textile factory at one point. Those remnants of the past told us this town had indeed once been very prosperous.
The place was disappointing as far as touring went. But Keiko’s sense of wonder — about everything – made the day uplifting. Where I only saw a dilapidated temple, she marveled about old worn carvings in the eves. Where I bemoaned a steep slippery climb only to come upon a small shrine decaying from years of neglect, she threw a coin into the offering box, clapped three times, and bowed her head in prayer.
Noriko was filled with joy, too, at being with her friend of 50 years. Her life is hard, so a day away from her usual worries brought out the child in her. She giggled and told riddles. She talked loudly and laughed often. I silently delighted seeing her transform into a young person filled with hope at the good things life might have to offer. Keiko was much the same. Both have had very challenging lives. But on that day, there was only a sense of happiness, even playfulness at anything and absolutely everything.
After we had our fill of wandering through 野原, we headed to the train station. It was mid-afternoon, so we decided to head a few more stops south to Fukushima. Why? Because it was there and we could. And more importantly, because the day was a one of freedom, to be fully enjoyed, and unhesitatingly embraced.
We only had about an hour there, so despite being full from a large lunch, we headed to a coffee shop near the station. I ordered only tea, but Keiko chose a small round sweet to go with her coffee, and Noriko got a huge slice of chocolate cake and a large coffee. She beamed with every bite.
Once again my friend Noriko called, asking if I might be interested in a day trip. She had been looking through old pamphlets of places near Sendai and came across one for Hobara (保原), a town south of Sendai, almost on the border with Fukushima. “It will be wonderful,” she reassured me. “It is famous for textiles and fruit.” Indeed, the name 保原, Protected Fields, seemed promising.
We were to meet Noriko’s longtime friend, from university days, half way there. Then we would pick up a special train and continue south. Actually, the train was a regular local one, but on the last Friday of the month it offered a special ticket. For one small fee we could go all the way to Fukushima and back, getting off and on as often as we liked.
We soon arrived in 保原, only to find a rather unfocused town. There were large factories surrounding the area, huge trucks laboring past, and no city center to speak of. When we finally found someone to ask for suggestions of what to see, they would look astonished, think for a minute, and say, “I don’t know” or “There aren’t any. But there is a famous mountain, Ryou Zen 霊山, 20 kilometers from here.”
Without a word, the three of us decided to explore the town anyway. There were meant to be several temples and shrines, which might be of interest. And surely there would be a main street of sorts. So, off we went.
We did find dusty old temples and shrines, none with any sign of life. But there were also many kura, or storage buildings, where, in times long gone, wealthy families stored valuable items. And there was one magnificent wooden structure that surely must have been a textile factory at one point. Those remnants of the past told us this town had indeed once been very prosperous.
Even now, beyond the skirt of modern factories, there are large farms with rice paddies and orchards with Van-Gogh-like gnarled fruit trees.
The place was disappointing as far as touring went. But Keiko’s sense of wonder — about everything – made the day uplifting. Where I only saw a dilapidated temple, she marveled about old worn carvings in the eves. Where I bemoaned a steep slippery climb only to come upon a small shrine decaying from years of neglect, she threw a coin into the offering box, clapped three times, and bowed her head in prayer.
Noriko was filled with joy, too, at being with her friend of 50 years. Her life is hard, so a day away from her usual worries brought out the child in her. She giggled and told riddles. She talked loudly and laughed often. I silently delighted seeing her transform into a young person filled with hope at the good things life might have to offer. Keiko was much the same. Both have had very challenging lives. But on that day, there was only a sense of happiness, even playfulness at anything and absolutely everything.
After we had our fill of wandering through 野原, we headed to the train station. It was mid-afternoon, so we decided to head a few more stops south to Fukushima. Why? Because it was there and we could. And more importantly, because the day was a one of freedom, to be fully enjoyed, and unhesitatingly embraced.
We only had about an hour there, so despite being full from a large lunch, we headed to a coffee shop near the station. I ordered only tea, but Keiko chose a small round sweet to go with her coffee, and Noriko got a huge slice of chocolate cake and a large coffee. She beamed with every bite.
And as she finished, she said, “Today has been 100% a success!” I had never seen her so carefree and happy. And that made me feel the same.
No matter where we might have gone, no matter what we might have seen, the joyous energy of lasting friendship made the day 100% perfect indeed.
Love,
Anne
No matter where we might have gone, no matter what we might have seen, the joyous energy of lasting friendship made the day 100% perfect indeed.
Love,
Anne
