It's been a while since I wrote about Yabakei, the gorgeous little town just across Kusu's northern border that is bountiful in hot springs and country town warmth, and I suppose there isn't much that's changed about the town between last time and this, yet the place keeps drawing me in and showing me what's right with Japan. While passing through this last Saturday for a day of exploration around the towns of Innai and Ajimu, Maia and I stopped at our favorite inaka sweets shop for a handful of country manju. These are little cake-like items made of different types of dough (sakura, yomogi, citron, soda, etc.) and containing a core of either smooth or chunky anko, the sweet red bean paste you either love or love to hate. This day the normal shopkeeper—or anybody for that matter—was nowhere to be found and we craned our necks around confused until a man who looked to be in his seventies or eighties came hobbling across the street towards us. I suppose our normal dealer was off for the day and dad was taking over in his stead.
Right about now the old man, as do many from the generation that still remembers the war and/or its aftermath, should have been treating us in one of three ways: Quiet passive aggression; proclamations of “America daiichi (number one)!”; or, upon hearing us order in Japanese, doling out a canned, patronizing statement about how great at Japanese we are and asking us where we're from. I'm so tired of each of the above. This man was different though. He spoke to us like human beings, didn't freak at the fact that we like these traditional Japanese treats and came around the front of the store to explain the tourism events poster hanging out front.
Why can't there be more well-adjusted individuals in Japan like this man, who treat people like people no matter the color of their skin or nation of origin? He's just gained himself some customers for life.
--Matt
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