A Lifetime of Experience: How does the snow go in Kyoto?

[UberGoober]

The three Japanese women and I found ourselves comfortably close together on the floor of the private room, our shoes in a pile by the sliding shoji door that closed us off from the outside world. The older two, both attractive women in their thirties hovered close, the eagerness showing in their eyes. The other, a cute girl in her early twenties was more cautious and took time to decide if she wanted to join us or just go it alone. Eventually, she decided and in no time at all the atmosphere was noticeably warmer as the beer began to flow. Hot steamy gasps, the gentle lilt of feminine laughter and sound of wet sensual slurping filled the small room and spilled out through the thin paper doorway into the space beyond.

It was February and I had been in Japan almost two years. I suppose I could say that somewhere in my heart still felt genuine wonder at the fact that I was living half way around the world from where I was born and that I was doing my daily business in a language that had, just a few years prior, been a jumble of exotic, unrelated sounds. However, I was also aware that, for the most part, my life had devolved into the same basic routines of work and home that everyone, wherever they may live and whatever they may do, eventually fall into. Like millions of others, I got up in the morning, went through a thoughtless routine and left for work.

On this morning, as usual, I took the same heavy leather A2 flight jacket I had worn for years off its hook and wormed my way into it. After almost two decades, it was getting to be a tight fit and I could no longer zip it all the way up. It would have to be replaced soon, I knew, but as long as I was in Japan finding something in my size was going to be a problem. It didn’t matter, I told myself, the ride would not be long anyhow. Next, I grabbed my gloves, then my tank bag and finally my helmet, eschewing the full-face Snell rated Shoei Corsa II I had shipped from the United States for a cheap, leather covered “pudding bowl” half-helmet, complete with aviator goggles on an elastic band, I had bought at the local hardware store.

Maybe it was foolish, but I had bought the helmet on a whim intending to use it more as a decoration than as a working helmet. In the heat of the summer months, however, when the sun beat relentlessly down upon me and cooked me alive in my full face helmet while a crawled along the traffic clogged streets at a pace slower than that of children’s bicycles on the sidewalk, I eventually took the little helmet off the shelf and began to use it. Like most things in Japan, It was too tight at first, but some creative work with a knife on edge of the Styrofoam shell had made it simply snug. Like so many other things in my life the result was not perfect, but it was good enough and I was soon using it habitually for every trip that did not involve racing around at high speeds.

Outside, the morning was cold but clear and, as usual, the little CBR needed just a touch of choke to fire up. Almost the second it fired, I flicked the choke off and took over on the throttle; not revving the engine, but instead applying a steady pressure that allowed the bike to warm enough to idle. When the bike was able to run on its own, I tightened my chin strap, slipped on my gloves and sped off to work.

It only took a few minutes to get to work and, after securing the bike with a big U shaped lock through the front wheel, I left it in the seldom used alley next to my school. As usual I was the first one to arrive and before opening up the building I popped into the bakery next store and scored a couple of warm French rolls, each with a slice of bacon baked inside, for my morning meal. By contract, my working hours were noon to nine, but with a full day of lessons looming ahead, I could rarely relax in the mornings and almost always ended up in the office an hour or two early. It worked out OK, in the comfort of my classroom, I could spread out at the conference table, eat my breakfast and listen to the radio while I planned my lessons.

It was Thursday, my busiest day of the week and I had a lot to plan for. I started with the easy lessons, the ones attended by high school students. These lessons were the most profitable for the school and, as such, had the most pre-prepared lesson plans to choose from. They had been challenging to plan for at first, but over the months I had been teaching, I had tweaked them by creating my own games and activities to make them more fun and more effective. I had also switched the different classes’ schedules so that they were all on the same lesson, meaning I could prepare one lesson plan that would cover three or four classes at once.

The other lessons, generally private lessons with more advanced students were slightly harder to prepare for and I browsed through the newspaper trying to find an article or two that would capture my students’ attention without being too hard. It was a delicate balance, too long or too complicated and they would lose confidence, too short or too easy and they would assume that I teaching down to them. It always took time, but I always came through in the end.

The more difficult classes came at the end of the day. These were big group classes and most of the students were, believe it or not, teachers. The reason for this was simple, the Japanese Ministry of Education had decreed that all elementary school should be teaching English and, in an attempt to quite literally stay one lesson ahead of their students, these teachers were coming to me. I was OK with that. Although they were often quite serious about their jobs, they were also a lot of fun and some of them were attractive, available and my age. The best part was, since these lessons were at the end of my busy day, these teachers and I were, on occasion, able to spend some quality time together outside of class, too.

(Photo - Snow on a Kyoto license plate)

[UberGoober]

The atmosphere in the small room was warm and the steam rising from the large bowl of spaghetti in the center of the table made my glasses fog up. On either side of me the ladies were enjoying themselves, either quaffing down mugs of beer of wolfing down food with a speed that once and for all disproved everything had ever been told about demure Japanese girls. I too enjoyed the food, but since I had come by motorcycle, I declined the beer and stuck with iced tea.

The ride from the school to the restaurant had been noticeably colder than my ride to work had been. After the sun had set, sometime while I was in the middle of my easier lessons, the weather had taken a distinct and sudden turn for the worse. Now, while we enjoyed ourselves inside the restaurant, it was growing even worse. When I emerged an hour or two later, there were two inches of snow on the ground and, to make matters worse the sky was filled with large wet flakes.

Maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to take the bike home. After all, I could have left the bike locked up on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant and taken a cab home, but to be honest the thought never occurred to me. I just brushed the snow off and fired up.

The first mile was OK. The snow has deep, but the road was not icy and I had little trouble staying in the tracks of the cars that had gone before me. By the time I traveled the mile or so to Uji bridge, however, it was getting dicey. My jacket, half zipped as usual, became a funnel for snowflakes that flew up over the small bike’s windscreen and my shirt was soon soaked. My open helmet, too, was a problem as the snow didn’t just simply fly by my head. Instead, it plastered itself to my face, covering my glasses and making it impossible to see. I made my way across the wide, busy bridge, mostly by feel and stopped on the other side.

I was in a dangerous situation. Now thoroughly wet, the cold was starting to have an effect on me. I Unzipped my coat the rest of the way and tried to use my shirttail to wipe the snow off of my glasses. Wet, it was of little use and left my glasses a smeared mess. Thinking it might help, I pulled my helmet’s goggles down over my glasses and pressed on. I didn’t get very far before I had to stop again.

It was even worse this time. My fingers, now wet inside my gloves, were feeling the cold and it was difficult to get the goggles back up onto the front of the helmet. After a moment or two, I tore them off and threw them in my tank bag. My glasses, too, were proving to be more of a hindrance than a help so I took them off as well.

Steeling myself against what was to come, I kicked the bike back into gear and started forward once again. Although I caught the occasional snowflake in the eye, without glasses I was able to make some progress. Still, it was slow going as I moved along the street in first or second gear, dragging my feet for balance in the increasingly slippery snow.

After an eternity, I found myself slowly crawling up the steep hill that stood between me and my home. At the top, I turned onto the small road that led to my apartment, pulled into the lot and shut down the bike. I recall going inside as quickly as I could, not even bothering to lock the bike up.

I was half frozen but safe. Inside the apartment, I turned on the heater and waited for warm air to flood the small space. I stripped off my wet clothing, hung it dry and drew a hot bath. A few minutes later, I sunk chest deep into the water, thinking over the events of the day and of everything that had happened.

It had been an ugly little adventure and I had been lucky I didn't have further to go. I held the thought for a moment more and then filed it away for posterity. next time, I promised myself, I would be smarter.

[acalliste]

You had me going with the first few lines.

[teranski]

Nice story bro... but it would have ended differently if I were in a room with three hot women... ;-)

[UberGoober]

Well, you know, I'm not exactly the quickest guy in the world. Besides, I was seeing a certain someone else at the time...

But I'll bet you got a chubby just reading that.

[Alawicious]

Nice

[UberGoober]

I'm curious, did you guys not see the other two articles I wrote recently? You usually leave at least a comment to show you've seen them.

I like this one a lot, but I thought the one about the Geo was at least as good. I'm surprised it didn't get more attention.

[Alawicious]

I think I missed that one

[UberGoober]

Maybe the board was extra busy that day, thanks for checking it out.

[Alawicious]