On this, the last day of our cruise through China and Japan, Edrie Royals and I stepped from an elevator of one of the tallest buildings in Tokyo. We’d had a wonderful trip to Hong Kong and several islands in the South China Sea and were now in Japan, almost ready to wing our way home. In front of us were observation windows with great views in every direction. Large maps were laid out close to them; there were counters and stands of souvenirs for sale, food to buy. I first stopped and looked at the maps of where we’d been, and when I did the past days and a few other memories began unfolding. We hadn’t exactly taken ‘a slow boat to China’, but looking back, ideally our trip could have moved a little slower; a few more days; and maybe we could have wandered down side streets and visited some of the “tea” shops.(no opium dens)
Standing on the 44th floor tracing my finger on a large map, I began with Hong Kong, which had been our first stop on this tour. With that, my thoughts slipped away to the first trip husband Willard and I ever took out of the country.
Not long after our daughter Linda Gayle was killed in an automobile accident back in l970, Dr. Gryce Rotenberry, a physician, (and also at that time, the mayor of Mendenhall) in a very kind and thoughtful gesture, sent my husband and me to a medical meeting in Hong Kong and Japan.
Before that, sometime in the ’60s, Willard and I had adopted a child through a Christian children’s organization. The little boy lived in Hong Kong.
Willard and I set up a time to meet and be with the child on that trip; he was about eight years old. We took him to lunch; that was the only real contact we ever had with him.
Some years after that, we heard disturbing rumors about the organization, so we changed our gift giving to another charity. On this day, all these years later I wondered what had ever happened to that child, he would be in his late fifties now.
I moved away from the map, walked over to one of the panoramic windows and I thought back over some of the things we’d seen and done on this trip.
Except for Nagasaki, where we were rained out, (and it had never been high on my to-do list) for the most part, our weather had been perfect. We’d come at a good time. The timing of our trip coincided with the blooming of the cherry blossoms.
All over we had been fascinated by the stops we’d made; the things we’d seen and done. It was hard not to be intrigued with the rich heritage of the museums and shrines.
We saw and paid homage to a lot of Buddhas. We’d visited elegant temples, many set in groves of tall trees with well-tended gardens, ponds, and lovely bridges.
I am not a history or a geography student, and I here must confess, much of what we saw and heard, tended to blur together. Now, with it being almost go home time, looking back on the places we’d been, I chided myself. I would do a few things different. First and foremost, I wish I’d studied up on Asian history before we left the states.
Contrasting with the skyscrapers and shopping malls were old streets, alleys, and colonial buildings. For some reason it seems like I pay more attention to people, what they look like, what they do and how they live, than I do tourist stops; I’m more of a side street, back alley, step on your toes, female.
But I had no complaints about our trip.
Most of our guides spoke English quite well. Our bus rides were restful and relaxing, provided capsule views of each of our stops. There were many small, clean vehicles, motorbikes, scooters, and bicycles. With all the heavy traffic, I only recall hearing one horn blow and no sirens.
People were innately courteous, everywhere we went there was a politeness that often seems to be going the way of the striped giraffe back home. The children we saw were well-behaved, they were well-groomed and well-dressed. Many wore uniforms.
Girls and ladies were attractive and dressed stylishly. It was surprising to see many females stepping out in geisha kimonos, but this was mostly around the tourist attractions.
I saw very few beards, tattoos, or long hair on the young males, most of the older men were dressed in dark suits, and ties. There were a few beggars, one I remember particularly, an older woman in front of a shrine. Blind, her nose and fingers almost gone, she had, what looked to be leprosy. I turned my head and hurried by her, then shamed, ran back and slipped some coins into what was left of her deformed fingers.
The cities we visited were surrounded by skyscrapers; but these weren’t just business buildings. People lived in sprawls of concrete housing extending for miles in all directions - wash was hung out to dry on the balcony railings and there were bikes and tricycles. Not for all the tea in China would I understand this - how do you raise a family living in all these high rises? What about curious children climbing, falling? It troubled me.
Now on this, our last day, I was aware that time had almost run out and I thought quickly of a few things I would do if I came back again. I would visit the Okinawa cemetery and pay homage to our fallen heroes; maybe hire a rickshaw, attend a tea ceremony or a sumo wrestling match in one of those twisting back alleys of Shanghai; drink sake and dine on the world renowned succulent beef in Kobe, and then have a massage.
Thinking of food, I was hungry and glanced at my watch. Soon it would be time to board our bus so I needed to stop my musings grab a sandwich and a drink.
Once again I gazed over Yokohama Harbor, then glanced down at the Hong Kong map. And one more thing - maybe, just maybe, if I ever passed this way again, before I left home I’d see if there was any way I could find out the name of a little boy my husband and I had taken to lunch so many years ago. And ask him to lunch with me one more time.
