I woke up with a sudden jerk. Even a minor
disturbance can be enough to make you jump out of sleep if it’s happening at
35000 feet. We were on a plane embarking on a vacation that has been in the
anvil for more than 8 years. We were going to Japan. My small family including my husband and
daughter has been on many holidays over the last 5 years but they have all been
short stays and beach vacations that were a hop skip and jump away from
Singapore. We wanted to do a “country vacation” where we can experience a
different culture, different weather or at least a different cuisine. And Japan
ticked all the boxes.
I felt the plane slowly easing its way down
from the clouds and soon the rolling dark hills came into view and soon we
could see the shoreline. Through the window we could see rows upon rows of
bridges and buildings and then the plane touched down at the Kansai
International Airport – Osaka signaling the beginning of our Japanese
Adventure.
We weren’t here for a vacation. We
were here for a 15 day “experience” of the renowned Japanese culture – the
change of green leaves into autumn colors, a taste of Japanese cuisine to take
us beyond sushi and of course to experience firsthand the legendary courtesy
and kindness of the people of Japan and ofcourse to spend time with our
extended family here.
We made
our way through the airport with our itinerary in hands eager to take in the
sights and sounds of the castle city. As
we ploughed through the grueling itinerary and eager to not miss out any of the
sights, we were not disappointed. Autumn
was setting in and someone was just beginning to start painting the town in
varied shades of yellow. The delicate petals of cherry blossom flowers were
withering away in the “not so cold yet” autumn winds. But hot bowls of miso
soup and many ramen courses later, we were still looking for one experience
that was proving elusive-the fabled Japanese kindness. “Maybe it’s because we didn’t have to ask for
too many directions (most signs were in both English and Japanese) or maybe
Japan has become more globalized”, we wondered looking at the serious
executives in suits filing themselves in neat rows waiting to board the trains.
After spending 3 days in Osaka, we embarked on
a visit to the ancient capital city Kyoto. By this time all the walking and the
unaccustomed cold weather was slowly catching up with us. Adi, my 7 year old
started complaining of all the walking her little legs had to do inspite
of having never ending playtime with her
cousin who lives in Japan. We had just finished going around the Kyoto palace
and slowly made our way through one of the deserted side lanes behind the
palace. It was 3 pm in the afternoon and no sight of any tourists around.
Suddenly Adi screamed and we turned around to see her with one foot inside a
rocky pit near the palace wall. We quickly pulled her out and checked her leg. Fortunately
it was only a topical wound, though a bloody one. Out of habit we quickly
scanned the roads to see if we can spot a 7eleven or Guardian forgetting for a
moment that we were in Kyoto and behind a palace. Cajoling and consoling Adi,
we started moving in the direction of a main road.
“Sima Sen”, a soft voice called out. We turned around to see a lady with a
beautiful angelic face wizened by age. She had passed by us 10 minutes ago and
had returned to us hearing Adi’s screams.
She bent down and examined Adi who had tears streaming down her face.
Looking up the lady spoke rapid Japanese to which we helplessly nodded which
translates into “No Japanese”!. (My brother-in-law who is fluent in Japanese
later explained that she had asked if she can help us with the child). She
understood and quickly waved her hand. We watched in fascination as she then
went on to pull out a delicate purse from her cane bag. And gracefully pulled
out an even smaller pouch from it. Opening it, she pulled out a Band-Aid and
smiling widely she removed the tape and put it on Adi who by now had stopped
crying and was watching in sheer wonder. We thanked her profusely in the one of the two
Japanese phrases we knew and she dismissed it off with a shy smile and a pat on
the cheek for Adi.
And just like that, in the most unexpected
situation, we had the first of our many brushes with kindness of the people of
Japan.
For a country
ravaged by violence over 70 years ago and by natural disasters ever so
regularly, it is enlightening to see its citizens without bitterness in their
hearts. Instead every place we went, we were welcomed by gentle humans with
souls painted with kindness. The stranger who took pains to return our lost
rail pass to a police station, the officer who went out of the way to arrange
for the pass to be collected in another city, the little boy who instead of
pointing at the way, walked along with us for a kilometer to go out of his way
to show directions, the hotel staff who had thoughtfully arranged a smaller
bathrobe for Adi and to many others we met in those 15 days, being human is not
a gesture. It’s a way of life.
Aishwarya
Ananth
