Ten months in Cherry Blossom Land

by Siripathy Jayamaha

When I set foot in Japan in 1972, it was dark. I was met by a smiling Japanese gentleman at the Haneda airport, holding a placard bearing my name. I was in the midst of a glittering fairyland as he drove me to the Tokyo International Centre, (TIC) which was to be my abode in Japan for 10 months. But I felt somewhat homesick.

There were about 11 Sri Lankans staying at the TIC undergoing various training programs. More than 200 trainees from all parts of the globe resided there. After a few orientation classes, I was told how I should spend my first monthly allowance. I was told to look for a suitable used car. They took me to Akihabara, the legendary town for cameras, wrist watches, clectrical and electronic items.

On May 22, 1972 Sri Lanka became a Republic. Later on we were invited to an informal party hosted by an affable ambassador Prema Basnayake and his wife. The Japanese postal department, like most other world wide postal services had problem. Most of our postal itmes had gone to Sierra Leone and sent back to Japan. Our embassy and all donor agencies instructed all Sri Lankans to write ‘Ceylon’ in block capitals.

Sake

My friends introduced me to Sake, the local wine. We had shashimi-sliced tuna fish with soya sauce. We were on a day's outing. We were in the last of the five buses along with those from countries whose names start with Tuvwyz. When we were Ceylon, we had been in the first of the five buses. As always we led the singing with Baila. Our friends were puzzled when paper cups were passed around. Next came cans of the frothy stuff Suntori with shandy. Our bus mates and the Japanese officials on our bus were in raptures. “You lovely Ceylonese, only you can think of something like this”.

They told those in the other buses about it when we stopped for lunch. Only those on our bus had been served with an appetizer before lunch. There were never ending inquiries about our country and her people. Cans of beer were given to the driver and his mate to be taken home.

Our training group was at the Tokyo Central Railway Station. It was an unforgettable happening that could be enacted only in Japan. The then Prime Minister alighted from his car. The chauffeur took a small ‘saree box’ type of container wrapped with a shiffon scarf and handed it to the PM with the traditional bow. The PM accepted it and bowed. Then he turned towards us bowed and walked into the station with the others in his entourage. It was election time. We were close to the beautiful Shinjuku Park, made famous by Jothipala's Shinjuku Uyane ...”. Someone was addressing an election meeting standing on the rear of a large pick up or lorry. A few people were listening to him. Others were rushing to the railway station with a glance at the speaker who was the Prime Minister. In the election he was returned to power. My Japanese friend said they had no time to listen to speeches!

Fish

We were to go to a well-known fisheries station at Hammermatsu to see the ‘Ayu’ fish that can swim upstream and literally fly over barricades. We were to board the ‘bullet train’ or Shinkansen. I walked up to the engine and stroked the shiny blue and silver beauty with the ‘black radar’ nose. I requested our interpreter to take a snap of the driver and me by the speed-queen. The driver was thrilled. He spoke to my companion. I was invited into the driver's cabin. Breaking all traditions and rules the driver told my interpreter, ‘You are a very lucky man.”

I am sure that no other foreigner had had the exhilarating experience of seeing a bullet train approaching at more than 300 kph on the other track, and the snow capped Mount Fuji, whizzing past you. Also there were the three dimensional face-to-face encounter with bridges and mountains. I thanked the driver as the super bullet train blurred past us at the station.

Apart from our visits to some of the best fish breeding and rearing facilities in the world we visited Kyoto, Misaka, Kamakura and Nagoya. We had an unforgettable trip in the hover craft and we were given Mikimoto pearls as souvenirs. Up North we were at the apple country of Aomori. Further North we posed with the tall and tanned Aiyuna tribe, the Japanese version of Veddahs. Then we saw Lake Masu, the world's most tranquil, deep and transparent water body with a vegetation all its own. We were on a small ship to the Northern most island of Japan, Hokkaida, ‘stone's throw’ distance across the straits between Japan and Russia. Autumn was in. It was an unforgettable bus journey amidst avenues of trees about to shed their golden autumn leaves. We had a first hand glimpse of how salmon are captured on their return after laying eggs upstream. They never go back to the sea.

Predators

They are either captured or become prey to predators. The hatched fingerlings go back to roam the seas for years and enter the same river to lay eegs. Scientists are still baffled by the phenomenon. Then we visited the Buddhist and Shinto temples.

Trout fish raised at the fisheries station are released into a stream a few kilometres up stream. Sports fishermen in their hundreds with their own or rented fishing rods are permitted to catch up to a certain number of fish on payment of a fee. Back at the centre my friends took me to the Kihusai theatre and to Punabashi for a show. There would never be a dazzling Tokyo without Ginza. It was a glittering spectacle with world famous super stores.

We saw the venue of the Tokyo Olympics where our courageous army officer Karunananda completed the full course of the marathon and ended the race to a standing ovation. The elders and the children of Japan took him into their hearts.

There was a parcel, a Sendai doll sent by a Japanese I met on my way to Sappore-Hokkaido. A note said, “I listened to the nice things about my people and my country”. True, this is the only country in the world where one can take a sip of water right off any tap on the street. “Our taps give pure water to drink. But your ancient kings had conserved water for all your people. You said we were very hospitable. But the smiles and hospitality of your people have overtaken us by miles, he said. What a wonderful compliment.

Table manners

My training companions were from Brazil, Chile Ecuador, Indonesia, Philippines, Thailand and Turkey. The South American group had observed that Sri Lankans were different from other Asian and Pacific countries in their table manners were always with a smile. All Japanese people at the centre, resident trainees and all those at their respective training locations enjoyed our company.

They had been told that diplomatic personnel assigned to our country were reluctant to go back to other postings. I did not know why. They clapped and hugged me. I felt proud of my little country. On December 24, I was the last to leave Japan in my group.

Our affable chauffeur was with me at the counter when my baggage was weighed. My hand luggage weighed about 12 kilogrammes more than what was permitted. My accompanied baggage weighed 14 kilogrammes in excess because I had a music set up, transistor radio, toys, gifts and heavy electrical appliances. I began to sweat. Much of my saved allowance will have to go. Then our chauffeur Hino San said something to the JAL staff. There were smiles all over. One person brought a fairly large cardboard box and tape. I was asked to pack all my non-breakable items in it. My name was written on a sticker and attached a baggage tag.

They were all watching me with their usual gesture of covering their mouths with a hand.

“Jayamaha San,” said Hino San. “You accompanied all your seven friends to the airport. You were there to help them”. “Today you have no one. But I am there to help you and to see you off. All your baggage has been tagged to Colombo via Hong Kong and will go with you. Japan Airlines and British Airways will take you and your bags to Colombo. ‘Sayonara’ Jayamaha San.” I shook hands with all and embraced Hino San. He walked away. I knew why. A part of my beloved Japan who had showered me with memories and hospitality went with him. Of all the words of goodbye in the world, Sayonara is the most meaningful. It means it has to be so. Yes! I spent 10 memorable months in Cherry Blossom Land. I left because it had to be so'.