Snakes and Sake
After Friday orientation, which was only a half day, I went out for lunch with a small group. We got some recommendations from the veteran JETs who were in charge of the orientation and decided to head for the mall near the Kanazawa train station. The 6th floor of the mall is dedicated to various restaurants and is essentially a floor-wide food court, but with actual quality restaurants instead of fast food. I’ve seen this kind of setup countless times in all of the bigger Japanese cities I’ve been to, and I had actually gone to the sushi restaurant the night before with my “predecessor” and we had to wait a while for space to open up.
Predecessor is the term used by people on the JET program for the person being replaced by the incoming JET (me). I dislike this word, probably because it seems too important for a job that’s entriest of entry level (the requirements are basically having any bachelor’s degree and no criminal record) and people often shorten it to “pred” which I just think sounds weird, but I’m stuck with it. It’s kind of the only word that works and when I say “the person who I’m taking over for” it’s a real mouthful and I get weird looks.
Anyway, we perused our lunch options until I spotted an okonomiyaki restaurant and told everyone that’s where we needed to go. Okonomiyaki, specifically from Hiroshima, might be my favorite food in the world. It translates approximately to “cooked how you like it” and is a sort of pancake. Along with the batter there is your choice of meat, cabbage, eggs, your choice of vegetables, and noodles topped with a special savory and sweet sauce and mayonnaise. It’s delicious and oh so healthy, ha ha. When I’ve had it in Hiroshima they cook it up on the skillet in front of you but that wasn’t the case here. However, it seemed like the chef was trying to recreate Mt. Fuji with the verticality and portion size of the thing. Overall, I remember my Hiroshima okonomiyaki more fondly but it was still quite tasty. But I’ll have to revisit Hiroshima again to make a real comparison.
Perhaps we were all in a bit of a food coma, but after checking out the mall and walking around town a bit post lunch the mood didn’t seem to be heading towards anything, so we went our separate ways around 5pm. I took the train back to my town and made my way to my apartment. The first thing I noticed was the spiderwebs that had been accumulating over the last few days had vanished and their terrifyingly large inhabitants were nowhere to be seen. My momentary relief was broken when in the dim light of dusk I spied something long and thin resting on the barricade under which I had just walked. I thought to myself I might not have noticed some sort of wire or rubber stopper yet and my eyes could be playing tricks on me, but I took a flash photo just to be sure.
In this moment I realized that my knowledge of snakes in Japan was limited to the fact that, yeah they exist. I had no idea what kind this was, let alone if it was venomous. I sent that picture out to some people hoping for some advice and in the meanwhile it started to make its move.
I decided to take the advice I had just received from my supervisor and run the hell away, praying for it to be gone by the time I returned. I spotted an opportune moment in which it looked like the snake couldn’t lunge at me and made my break. After an elongated stop at one of the conbini near my apartment, appreciating the blasting air conditioning and the lack of wildlife, I bought a little sandwich and slowly made my way home. I arrived in time to see the snake make its exit and slither off into the darkness. Out of sight, out of mind… except now I’ll be checking the stairwell every time I come or go.
I rested for a bit inside and then decided I was unsatisfied with the events of the evening and decided to check out the nightlife of my quiet suburban town at around 9. I steeled myself for the outside and managed to leave without any trouble. Crossing the bridge into what looked like the bar district on my phone map I noticed how unlike the lively riverfronts of Kyoto, Osaka, and Tokyo this one was, with its plant life buttressed against dark two story buildings and a quiet stillness enveloping it all. The cool river breeze felt great and I actually quite liked the scene.
On the other side there was indeed a small assortment of bars, but it wasn’t a bustling scene. I walked by one with a big red sign out front that piqued my interest so I went inside. It was small, like most Japanese establishments, and the bar had 5 or 6 seats with two small tables at the other side of the room. Beyond that was a traditional room with tatami mat floors, meaning shoes have to be removed before entering, and cushioned floor seats instead of chairs. I was led to a seat at the bar but I’d definitely like to have a night in that back room some time, even if sitting Japanese style kills my knees and makes my legs fall asleep after 15 minutes. Looking at the menu above the bar and noticing a sign that read マルゲリータ “marugerita”, I thought I’d order a margarita. The bartender, who I’d later learn was also the cook and manager of the place, looked at me kind of puzzled and asked “pizza?” Margherita, not margarita. Got it. With that misunderstanding cleared up I got to mingling with the locals and had a wonderful time. At midnight, closing time, I headed home and luckily found no sign of a serpent waiting to greet me.