Mariella Gattini

Tokyo I

Takashi

November 2019 I had the privilege of visiting Japan for the first time in my entire life. Our first stop took place in Asakusa, located in the oldest side of Tokyo. I should share with you the pictures I took because they are very telling of my encounter with such millenarian culture.

Asakusa View from the window of our hotel

Taito Kaminarimon Temple Entrance in Asakusa

It’s the first time that I’ve travelled to a country where I don’t speak the language. Fortunately, my usage of the English language helped me a big deal.

There is something contradictory in the way people behave with foreigners. On the one hand, they are very courteous, especially young women and young men. On the other, and in general, they seem overwhelmed with the pressing passing of time, which makes them look distant and cold. Well, I was on vacation mode, while they were just trying to live their everyday lives the best they could.

The most moving event of my stay of two weeks between Tokyo and Kyoto was the one organized by Takashi. Originally from Osaka, Takashi is my husband’s friend from work. He suffers from MS so he moves around in a special car, where he has his wheelchair at hand. And there he was! Waiting outside our hotel to take us around Tokyo to the places he likes the most.

The first thing he did was to take us around the train station, which a few days later we used to go to Kyoto. He parked on the curb, and he and my husband remained in the car talking, while my daughter, my son-in-law, and I stepped out of the car and went around the station taking pictures from every angle in the Chiyoda-Marunouchi section of Tokyo. Takashi forgot something, so he explained to us that he needed to make a quick stop by his wife’s office. She approached the car with a mask on, so we could only see her vivid eyes. But judging by her attire and hair, I could see that she took good care of herself. Takashi apologized for her saying that she didn’t speak any language other than Japanese, was shy, and had a cold.

We went around the Emperor’s Palace, and soon later the Emperor’s private residence, because for Takashi the Emperor is very significant and very symbolic not only for his culture but also for his own life. Neither the palace, nor the Emperor’s residence are open to the public, and are surrounded by a vast, deep vegetation.

We continued our exploration toward Umihotaru, a place a few foreigners know, where we had an extraordinary view of the Pacific Ocean looking east. Umihotaru means sea-firefly because it shines at night. It’s an artificial island located at the center of Tokyo Bay. I told Takashi that the Pacific Ocean looked completely different looking west, and what a privilege it was for me to have that view. From Umihotaru the water looked silver to me, unlike the blue color of the pictures taken with my smartphone. I told him of the emerald green of the water in the South Pacific were I was born, and of the cobalt blue we enjoy in some places along the coast in California.

Umihotaru View of Mount Fuji

 

We went back to the city through a ten-kilometer tunnel built under water called Aqua Tunnel. I was so impressed, I couldn’t hide it. Tunnels and bridges are for me far more than practical infrastructures; they are a marvel of engineering.

Later, he took us to Rappongi Hills were every one of the trees was illuminated along streets flanked by stores of haute-couture.

Finally, we ended up in a fantastic restaurant in the Chuo-Nihombashi-Muromachi section of the city. We had a selection of different delicious dishes we asked him to choose, and together we had a conversation full of joy at a table by the river at night. He could tell how much we love each other, he said in an email he sent us later. And I could tell how intelligent and perceptive he is. From my perspective, his disability has made him more sensitive and more reflective about life, but also it has made him stronger than average intellectually and spiritually.

We went back to our hotel with the sensation of having visited a surreal place through the eyes of Takashi. A place of lights, silver waters, and pristine air, where things were possible despite all obstacles. And we all were so grateful after such unique experience. Japan became more approachable, more understandable, and closer to me after that. I could see how the perspective of one person can change everything in some else’s experience in life, for better or for worse. In this case, Takashi made of the rest of my stay something warm, familiar, and possible. Just by thinking of him.

A few days later, we took the Shinkansen—a complex system of high-speed railway lines—to go to Kyoto. My daughter had made seat reservations and had sent our luggage through a third-party carrier. So we only needed to show up with our small carry-on. After accommodating my things, sitting back, and looking at the window I couldn’t believe I was actually going to a place I had only seen in my dreams.

Our first, tentative exploration of Tokyo had been successful without major delays or disappointments. In our eyes everything was new and worth exploring, understanding, and, in that process, we took with us a little of every spot we visited, always leaving a piece of us behind. We took with us some of Takashi’s view, but also of his own dreams for a country that still offers him all the opportunities to create a better future for him and his family, and for all those friends who treasure and respect his culture. And in that, I feel included, together with my family.

Next stop Kyoto. I wonder, will I find what I’m looking for?