Sunday night, after I got home from our chinatown trip, I sent another email to my contact teacher. I requested that they not allow smoking during the hours that I had left. She replied that she would forward the request to the other teachers. So I decided to stick with my classes after all.
Monday was full of surprised. It was another beautiful, sunny day. First, my morning language partner cancelled, after I'd already left to meet her. Fortunately, the KICC was locked up. It was a government holiday. So, I ran back to my apartment, 10 min away, thinking I'd check my email and negotiate a different venue. That's when I found out she was sick. So I was bummed, but prepared for class.
I went to class, only to find it locked up. That's when it clicked. There had been talk about a school sports day, or health day, or something, but I thought it was for the weekend after I finished. Surprise! I have to confess that I had this great sense of loss, because there are so many really pretty/friendly Chinese girls in the other classes. My big opportunity evaporated. Sniff. Ok, the girls in my class are very nice too, and are much appreciated as friends.
So, I was a little annoyed with myself, and decided to celebrate health day, or whatever the hell it was, by climbing Mt. Rokko (the mountain with the cable cars). I grabbed a water bottle, and ran out the door. I got to the base of the mountain (really a hill), about 3:30, and started hiking up. There were many Japanese hikers coming down at that time, and one girl hiking up. The scenery was very pretty. A series of tall thin waterfalls, some rustic bridges, 2 dams, a reservoir and lots of trees.
Anyway, I passed the one girl, who was really moving fast. She was at a viewpoint, so I greeted her. She totally blew me off. Very abnormal for Japanese. So I ignored her, and pressed on. Before too long, I reached the lower gate of the park area for the ropeway. It was locked. The hike up had been fairly long, and very steep, with lots of stairs. I didn't like the idea of walking back down - my plan was to take the ropeway.
I saw lots of people inside, so I was sure one of the higher gates must be open. So I went of on what I thought would be a quick loop around to an upper gate. After realizing no trail went exactly where I'd expect, I resigned my self to the probability that It would be an out-and-back trip. The trail I walked didn't climb, and I came to a dried up river bed with lots of campers after about a mile. There were some warning signs, but I couldn't figure them out, so I just kept walking.
Finally, the trail started to curve in a direction that seemed to be about right. And then it started gaining altitude. I felt too far away from the ropeway, but the trail was rising quickly, so I thought it would lead me to a nice look out. For the first time in over a mile, there was another hiker walking towards me, who also blew off my greeting. Maybe he missed his health day too.
The trees started to clear a little, and I saw a big antenna up above. I was getting close to my viewpoint. A couple hundred yards from the top, there was a fork in the road. I was careful to note which way I came from, since I once again couldn't decipher the signs. The trail was really steep, with steps between tree roots. I was breathing pretty hard when I finally burst through the trees, under the antenna.
The view was not bad, mostly of tree covered hills. But the highlight was, less than a quarter mile away, the the top end of the ropeway park (the Hotel) was obviously the destination of the other branch of the trail from the fork I just passed. I started down the hill, and to my surprise, the unsociable girl cut right in front of me just before I hit the fork. There was some uncomfortable silence, and I decided to wait for a minute so she could get well ahead.
She had to rest at the next hilltop, and I passed her, greeting her loudly and with much enthusiasm. This time she smiled, bowed and mumble a reply. I'm sure it had nothing to do with being alone with a big foreign man in the woods. So I continued my hike to the back gate of the ropeway. Locked.
I could have stepped over it (it was that low), but there were lots of people around, and I didn't want to get busted. So I decided to continue along the trail, since it would certainly lead to some intermediate gates. Wrong.
Although the trail got close to the park several times, there were no gates. My last hope was at the lowest point, near the big field with the windmill. I saw the field way below, The trail was steep downhill, and I began to worry about my knees. I can go like crazy uphill, but downhill is another story. I didn't like the idea of returning all the way to Kobe, and having to limp for several days. Finally, the trail swung towards the field, and there was a gate. Locked.
Or actually, shut. But the fence appeared to be electrified. That much I could tell from the signs. I thought about peeing on it to make sure. Just kidding. But I did consider flicking it with my finger. I dismissed that quickly. It looked like I'd either have to go down all the way to Kobe, or backtrack all the way to the short gate, and take my chances with Japanese security guards (if there were any).
I went back just to the branch that went to the field, and my Japanese improved enough to figure out that the trail going down just went to a view point, not down. It clearly stated that the way down was through the field. So now the choices were electrified fence, Japanese prison, or going all the way back the way I came. So I went back to the electrified fence, trying to decipher the signs, or maybe ask the people on the other side to read it to me.
Then it struck me. It was well latched, but designed in a way that would allow me to open it with a stick. I found a stick and was through in a second. There were some picnickers near by but everyone seemed uninterested in what I was doing. Then I had a bad thought.
The gates were all secured, which means everyone was required to buy round trip ropeway tickets. If I tried to buy a one-way ticket at the top of the ropeway, surely they would figure out what I'd done, and send me to a concentration camp. So I figured I better just face the music, and get it over with. I walked to the cable car building, and saw people buying one way tickets out of a machine. Phew!
So I rode back down to Kobe, by myself, near sunset, pondering the day's events. Had any of the gates really been locked, or had they just been shut? Were the warning signs I saw saying "keep out" or "keep closed". I've been studying Japanese for 3.5 years, and still I will probably never know the answer. I celebrated my successful return with a very good, but very greasy, bento made in a special bento shop near the bottom of the ropeway. Not a bad health day.
Anyway, back on topic, if there is one. I finished out the week with the uncomfortable chairs, unhappy teachers, etc., etc. Today, the last day, we started out with a test in my favorite class, reading comprehension. It really was a good class and book. Fortunately for me, instead of drilling us on a lot of kanji, which the teacher threatened, she wrote a test designed to award people who do homework. That's me! I got 93:) That was the highlight of my stay at
Communica. The 3rd (of 4) hour of the day started, so we switched topics/teachers, and I was once again getting a lot of helpful comments like "why did you get that wrong" and "why don't you understand this". So I decided to leave during the break before the 4th hour. In those 10 minutes, I collected some friends' contact info, and said all my goodbyes very quickly. They were really a good bunch of fellow students, and I'll miss them. But I was really happy to finally blow out those doors.
When I left, I didn't say a word to any of the teachers. Even though students often disappear during the day with no excuse, I normally would have said goodbye. But the fact is, I have to go back and close up some issues with my contact (apartment keys, furniture, etc), so I'll say my goodbyes then. No need to do it twice. Even with only one set of goodbyes, I'm going to have a really hard time pretending that everything was wonderful.