The Language of Friendship Needs No Translation

My new friend from the castle park.
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Another day of conferencing, which began much the same as the previous days.  Breakfast at the hotel (which supposedly has a combination of Japanese and "western" food, though the "western" food, besides the white bread for toast, looks little like I've ever seen in the western world), a keynote speaker in the morning, a handful of microsymposium sessions in the morning, free bento box lunch - this time provided by a Japanese neutron facility - and afternoon sessions.  Most of the talks I went to were about multiferroics and ferroelectrics.  If that means nothing to you, don't feel bad, it didn't mean much to me either until I spent several hours worth of talks listening about it.  I can't claim to have enough understanding of it to explain it, but I certainly know more about them now than I did when I woke up.  Simple explanation:  certain magnetic properties + certain electric properties = ferroelectric material.  I'm less clear on the distinction between multiferroics and ferroelectrics.  They were kind of lumped together.

"Jack" and his wife with me at their house.
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Dr. Lake decided yesterday that if the weather looked nice this afternoon, he'd try to get to Osaka Castle.  He wasn't interested in most of the talks offered, and he's been itching to see more of the city than immediately surrounds the convention center and our hotel.  He invited me along, but it's ~3 km from the Grand Cube (the convention center) to the castle, and I was skeptical about the weather, so I declined.  Not too long after he left, I was checking my e-mail and decided to see what Google Maps had to say about the distance to the castle.  I was surprised to find the directions included a ride on the subway, and that the fare was listed.  The walk Dr. Lake planned would be an hour in the heat to the castle, plenty of wandering around, and an hour's walk back.  The directions I found on the Web took just over 15 minutes each way.  I was tempted; especially when I looked up the castle's hours and saw that it closed at 5:00, with the last tour group to the top of the tower being admitted at 4:30.  There were too many intriguing sessions for me to skip out tomorrow, and after that, I'd lose my chance.  Still, I hesitated.  I went upstairs to the 12th floor (the top floor) to go to one of the sessions.  Next to that room was a sort of rock garden in a shallow pool.  That's not the right word for it, but I can't think of a better term.  It's not a sculpture, though it looks like something you might come across in a city park.  I'm including a picture of it to explain by sight what I cannot in words.  Anyway, the roof opens up there, and most of the times I've passed by, I've seen the rain drops patterning the surface - it's very pretty.  Today, the sun shone down on it, and the pool was quite still.  It was a lovely afternoon, and I suddenly had a desire to get out of the building.  Even so, I went into the lecture.  But I was antsy and impatient.  Each room has a projector screen that counts down the time the speaker has so that the sessions don't run too terribly long.  I was terribly distracted by it, waiting for it to get to zero so I could leave without looking rude, and at the same time feeling dismayed that I'd never make it to the castle in time for a tour if I hung around a minute longer.

When they left me at the door, I was parting with good friends.

The moat at Osaka Castle
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I left as the questions began to wind down, and walked back to the hotel in a hurry to leave my laptop and a few other conference things so as not to be weighed down.  Then I grabbed the map and city guide that had been included in our conference packet and took off for the nearest subway station.  I'm very glad I can read a map.  I'm also glad that I have a decent sense of direction (for those of you who have ridden with me and may doubt that, trust me - I'm much better walking than driving).  My map had many streets, but few labels.  At first I was frustrated by that, but very quickly I realized that it didn't matter - I could hardly read the road signs anyway.  It was when I saw a sign for the Utsubo Park, that I knew for sure that I was indeed going the way I wanted to.  I found the subway station fairly easily.  What I had more trouble with was getting a ticket and figuring out which platform to go to.

Osaka Castle itself.
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The instructions in my city guide and posted on the wall next to the ticket machine seemed very simple:  0) Push the "English" button for instructions in English. 1) Look on the chart for your destination and the price.  2) Insert money into obviously labeled slots.  3) Push the button for your ticket to print.  Very simple.  So what's the problem?  Step 3.  There were  at least 2 dozen buttons in front of me, some actual buttons, and some on a touch screen.  I had no idea which "the button" to push.  By process of elimination (it's not the "English" one, or the "cancel" one, or ...) and referring back and forth with the poster, the guide pamphlet and the onscreen instructions, I finally figured out what probably should have been obvious.  This mouse was rewarded with her cheese.  I then saw signs for the subway line I wanted, but none of them listed the station I was heading to.  I didn't know which way they were headed, so I asked an attendant at the turnstiles.  He didn't seem to speak very much English, but enough to get me headed in the right direction.  When I came across another attendant, I double-checked with him, and it turns out I had gotten to the right place.  I discovered soon after that the destination is clearly marked - if you know to look across the tracks and if you know what number station you're looking for.

This is the garden/sculpture thing.
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Getting off the subway and up to the surface was easy.  And at the top of the stairs was a map that showed I was quite close to the castle, standing next to the Osaka Museum of History.  Around a bend and beyond some trees, I could see the park grounds.  Crossing two streets and heading up a path through this park, I could begin to see the outer castle wall and the moat.  I wandered along and across the bridge to the Otemon Gate, snapping pictures as I went.  Then across the dry moat and into the inner bailey.  It was 5:15 when I finally got there, so I wandered about the grounds and took several pictures of the castle, figuring it was the outside that would be most photogenic anyway.  And then I noticed that people were still heading into the castle itself.  I had seen a number of people heading out of the park, but not so many going in, so I was surprised.  By the ticket machines, I saw that the sign had been changed (possibly for the season) to say that the castle closed at 8:00.  Suddenly I had plenty of time.  So I bought a ticket and went up.  Inside the castle, photographs are not allowed.  You take an elevator to the 5th floor, then you're supposed to go up to the 8th floor, check out the view and walk back down the stairs, touring each floor on your way.  I didn't see the sign for this until I returned to the 5th floor having already toured the 5th, 6th, and 7th floors on my way up and spent some time on the 8th floor looking out over a much greener part of the city than our hotel is in.

Today's lunchbox.
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Floors 5-8 tell the history of the original castle's builder and the civil war that took place in that time period (1580's).  Floors 2-4 do the same, but they are filled with artifacts on display (armor, folding screens, fans, etc.), rather than the (very clever) holographic movies shown on the floors above.  I didn't spend very much time on the upper floors because the videos were all in Japanese (no subtitles) and the explanations were very brief.  The artifacts, however, I could admire better, and the explanations were more detailed.  I bought just three postcards in the shop - mostly because I still haven't found a post office so I can send the bundle I bought in Kyoto - and wandered outside.

A fish sculpture, intended to prevent the building from catching fire.
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I took a few more photos of the castle, from a variety of angles, then started to head back toward the outer bailey.  I hadn't gone far when a Japanese man approached me and asked in not broken but *shattered* English what country I was from.  He was just tickled to hear that I was American.  He opened up the battered atlas he was carrying and indicated, by pointing all over it, that I should show him where.  I said New York, which made him even happier, if that was possible.  He seemed all smiles and laughter.  I know very little Japanese, and he knew little more English than that (in addition to my "hello," "please," "thank you very much," "good bye," and "1, 2, 3" he knew "walk," "country," "student," "garden," "cat," "dog," "family," and "daughter," though probably a handful more).  With more pointing and much confusion, he offered to take a picture for me in front of the castle, so I let him, and then he insisted on taking a picture of me in front of a small Japanese garden.  It was beautiful, and the "numbarawon" garden in Japan, according to him.  After that, he had apparently decided to accompany me and talk my ear off in rapid Japanese.  He would ask questions or point at something (like the cat that ran past us) and make a statement, but I could only understand a word or two at a time, if I understood anything at all, so I would raise my palms, shrug, and say "I'm sorry, I don't understand."  He would laugh, say "donta undastand," and try again.  Sometimes I could figure it out with more gesturing or repetition, as when I finally understood that New York City was high on his list of places to go on vacation.  Every time he repeated something, it became more fragmented. I understood "ichiban newayok wacation," "watashi ...[something I didn't understand, but probably meant "go" or possibly "went"] newayok," and "newayok ichiban city" after a lot of shrugging and smiling.  (NB: "ichiban" means "first" and "watashi" means "I."  Japanese speakers, please correct me if I'm wrong.)  It was frustrating not to be understood, but it was also kind of fun, like a game of charades.

Me in front of the garden pond.
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We walked to the outer bailey, to the martial arts center ("dojo," another word I know) near the bridge.  He told me he was at the park with his daughter and family (or at least I think that's what he was saying).  He was waiting for someone who had been or still was practicing in the dojo.  I hadn't wanted to bother anyone, so when I passed it on my way in, I didn't go inside.  The door was wide open, though (I could hear several dozen children yelling as they practiced judo), so with my new friend, I went into the entrance room, where everyone takes off their shoes before going farther, and for a little while we watched a few young men practicing kendo and possibly the same several dozen children I'd heard earlier practicing judo.  It was beginning to get dark, and I didn't want to be so far from the hotel, so I told my new friend I was going back.  He insisted on walking me to the corner near the subway station and gave me a postcard of the castle as a gift.

The Osaka Museum of History
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Feeling quite happy with the world, I crossed the street and smiled at a couple waiting to cross the next street (I had to cross two streets at that intersection).  The man asked me, in very good English, especially compared to my recent companion, where I was from.  He said he had a friend who had lived in America, but had passed away a few years ago.  His friend had been stationed in Japan for a while during the Korean War, and so they had met and kept up contact until the man's death.  He told me that he and his wife had gone to the castle park for a concert, but the weather report was for rain, so the concert was cancelled.  They had gone for a walk instead and were now heading home.  We were heading to the same subway station, and, it just so happened, we had the same destination, so we traveled together, and they offered to walk me back to the hotel.  As we walked, we talked, the man (whose English nickname is Jack) translated for his wife, and they invited me to come to their house, which was just a few blocks from the hotel.  So I dropped off my bag, kept my camera, and we went to their cozy little home for pictures, talking, tea and some unusual cakes made of sweet potato, chestnut (or was it hazelnut?) and soybean (much sweeter than most food I've had here and very tasty all around).  It turns out that Jack is a (very modest) retired English interpreter (hence the nearly flawless English) and he has many penpals from all over the world, including two (now one) from the US, and one from Germany.  He showed me pictures from their 1988 trip to the US to visit one of these penpals, and then he showed me pictures of a 1970's get-together of some foreign friends in Japan.  Their children were in those pictures, so then they showed me new pictures of their family: four children plus spouses and at least four grandchildren, the youngest was born earlier this year.  They were incredibly kind to me, and we chatted about all sorts of things until nearly 9:00.  They too insisted on giving me things:  a set of Osaka castle postcards that are beautiful paintings - many scenes that I had just tried to capture on film!, a postcard with an aerial view of the castle, a cloth image of a woman in traditional Japanese dress, and two more of the cakes (one for me, and one for Dr. Lake, since I had told them I was in Osaka with my professor for a conference).  They had invited me to their home, given me slippers to wear, food and drink, and delightful little gifts.  I wished I had had some of the things I had given as an exchange student.  I didn't have anything of the sort!  But we did exchange addresses, and I promised to send them the pictures I took of us.  It was the best I could think of, and I wish I had something better to offer them for their hospitality.  They even walked me back to the hotel, with a quick stop into a nearby supermarket on the way so they could help me identify the ubiquitous purple stuff.  It's a jelly made from the starch of devil's tongue (that's a plant), and I'm told it's good for cleaning out your stomach.  Go figure.  The Japanese name is "konnyaku."  When they left me at the door, I was parting with good friends.

One final note.  Before I get worried messages about being safe in a big city (Dad, this means you), let me assure you that all is well and I was not being reckless.  If you are not convinced, please note that Japan has one of the lowest crime rates in the world, and that I have seen one and only one bike with a lock on it (of the several thousand bikes I've passed).  At the castle, people didn't even take things out of their bike baskets when they wandered off to buy drinks or take pictures.  Also, there are police everywhere.  Osaka is a big city, but at night I hear no police sirens.  The only sirens I have heard were ambulances, and those relatively few and far between, considering the population density.  Nights in Pittsburgh often began with a siren serenade; but I'm not in Pittsburgh, I'm in Osaka, and I'm safe.  Please don't worry.  (You should probably be more worried that I'll miss my flight home.  Dr. Lake and I are trying to find out how we will get from one airport in Tokyo to another - a 90+ minute trip by bus or train - and back through the security checkpoint in the 3 hours allotted us.  Wish us luck!)

BethL