Gaijin, Interrupted

Ok, so where was I again? Ah yes. Leaving Osaka on the bus. And so, we continue.

This particular bus was simply taking me to a larger bus station. Nevertheless, I did get to see a large part of Osaka along the way, including the famed (and humongous) Ferris wheel. The city was a lot dirtier and more industrialized than I was imagining. There were some towering buildings, but mostly there were construction cranes, smokestacks, and housing complexes. And boats. Lots of boats.

When I arrived at the OCAT bus station, at which I was to take the 4:20 bus to Yonago, I immediately encountered a problem: the ticket counter had no signs in English. This was the first time since leaving Kansai airport that I encountered this problem, but it was certainly not to be the last. I went up to the ticket counter and tried the words "Yonago e", meaning "to Yonago". They pointed me in the right direction, which was the ticket booth all the way on the end. There, I tried my "Yonago e" again, and this time the response from the lady was "19~20" written on a piece of paper. Hrmm. Must mean "come back in 19 to 20 minutes, I thought to myself. I then proceeded to try various combinations of phrases that I knew in order to procure myself a ticket, but to no avail. I did figure out along the way that "19~20" was supposed to be military time, "19:20", or 7:20pm, which was the time the next bus to Yonago was leaving. Apparently, there were no more tickets for the 4:20 bus, and I watched it leave with much consternation. I found a payphone, and after several tries with what pocket change I had (thank you McDonalds), I managed to reach him on his phone and tell him that I'd be taking the 7:20 bus instead of the 4:20, and to pick me up then. And so, I waited.

When the bus did arrive, I was glad. After all this time, finally, I was on my way to my last destination. Little did I expect that along the way, after about an hour, we would encounter snow. In fact, we encountered so much snow that we could barely see the road, if at all. It was coming down in thick flurries, covering everything in site, creating a winter wonderland out of the mountains, and leaving me in concern for the safety of the bus and its passengers. We traversed winding mountain road after winding mountain road. I lost count of the number of tunnels that we passed through. We passed one unfortunate chap who had spun out and careened over into the guard rail. Yikes. After some time, we got behind a snow plow, which slowed us down considerably, but gave most of the passengers some peace of mind. The bus ended up arriving at Yonago station at 11:40, roughly 40 minutes behind schedule. I was one of the last off the bus, and after I picked up my bags, I mentally took survey of my surroundings.

I was outside of a considerably large bus station, which I presumed to be somewhere near the center of the city. Ironically, it is from this same bus station that I am writing to you now. It was snowing then, and very dark, so I didn't have much chance to look around. There were a few outside booths for travelers to wait in, but most appeared to be locked. A couple of the Japanese passengers from the bus tried anyway. I linked my bags back together and headed towards the main station area, which I hoped (really) to be unlocked. It was.

Inside the bus station were a variety of shops, all closed. I couldn't tell what most of them were, as I had no way of reading any of the signs or displays that were plastered along the walls. There were several waiting areas with rows of seats, most habited by at least a few travelers. I reached the far end of the building from where I had come in, which led out into the parking lot. I decided to check and see if my ride was waiting outside - he was not. Hrmmm. Back inside, I found a payphone after some searching. I dialed sensei's number, and lo and behold, here comes a man walking up to me holding a cell phone up to his ear. I put down the phone and smile. Relief - here at last.

I introduce myself, and he does likewise. Shiratsuchi is of average height for a Japanese man, which means no taller than me, about 5'4. He has a balding head and grey hair around the sides, and looks to be in his fifties. He tells me we are going to the hotel, which I already know. We commence walking - and walking out the door, past the parking lot, and across the street. "Doesn't he have a car?", I think to myself. My silent question is answered when, no sooner than a few steps after crossing the street, he turns left and climbs a set of stairs to the entranceway of one of the semi-towering buildings that populate this area. Ah. The Yonago Town Hotel, according to the sign, although I wouldn't learn that until morning.

Inside, I pay the clerk with my Visa card, and then Shiratsuchi and I sit down and talk for a little bit. He has brought me onigiri - a sort of Japanese version of the doughnut, which are those rice cakes you see people eating in anime, etc - and bottled ocha, or tea. He assures me that I must be very tired (no question there), and after a half-hearted attempt to eat one of the two onigiri, I find myself non-partial to it and decide to head up to my room. He tells me to relax and sleep as much as I can, and that he'll call me in the morning to make sure I don't miss the hotel's free breakfast, although I can sleep again after that. I take my room key in hand, and after some negotiating with the elevator door, I make it to my room, number 701.

I take a quick inventory of the contents - not very spacious at all, but all the important things are there, including a bed - and then plop down and am asleep within minutes. So goes my first night in Japan.

Look for my next entry soon. I'll try to write up as much of this thing as I can over the next few days.
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Mr. Stuff

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