Wa and the Count of Monte Cristo

‘Wa’ is the balance of things. The Japanese translate ‘Wa’ as harmony. The best definitions of ‘Wa’ I can think of is a mood of a group of people, or ‘mojo’ in the Austin Powers sense. Japanese will exhibit strange behaviors so as not to upset the ‘Wa’ of the people around them. So, you may see Japanese people smile in the face of tragedy, they will do things that Western people would consider very strange.

On Saturday, I went in search of a used English bookstore called, Wantage Books. I saw an advertisement for it in Kansai Time Out magazine. Japanese don’t name all of their streets, so the directions in the magazine consisted of a map of a very focused area of Kobe. I bought a magnifying glass just so I could read the words on the map. I have great vision, but even I couldn’t see the small letters on the map in this ad. The directions were a “15 minute walk north of the Sannomiya Station or a 3-minute walk south of the Shin-Kobe Station.”

Saturday was an absolutely gorgeous day so I explored a little on my way to Kobe. I rode my bike to Shukogawa train station. We have never been there. It is uphill from our apartment and not as close or convenient as the Kitaguchi station. The Shukogawa station straddles the Shukogawa River. In fact, the station is partially built on a bridge over the river. From the hill behind our house to the station there is a park, which borders each side of the river for a couple of kilometers. It was very nice to see a different part of the city.

Saturday, I didn’t find the bookstore. I walked for almost two hours north of Sannomiya and south of Shin-Kobe. I found a dozen or so ‘Love’ hotels, but nothing like a bookstore. I stopped in a legitimate hotel and asked for directions to a bookstore. The man directed me back to Sannomiya station. I stopped at a couple of Lawson stores, 7-11 type stores and asked. No one had heard of this bookstore. Finally, I gave up and returned home. I explored the park on my ride back home.

Sunday, I met Katsumoto in Kobe. He had to go to Tokyu Hands, a department store, and I was to renew my search for the bookstore. Since we were early, nothing opens before 10:00 am even on weekdays, we headed back out toward the bookstore. My exploration on the previous day made the map in the magazine make sense. I knew almost exactly where it would be. We walked to it and nearly past it, Katsumoto happened to look in the windows of a building and asked if this was the store. There were no signs, just a room full of books that we could see through the window. We had found it.

The selection wasn’t great, but I was able to find a couple of books. One of the books I bought was “The Count of Monte Cristo.” The back cover says, “his carefully wrought revenge has held millions of readers spellbound.” I remember watching the movie. It was good. The book isn’t nearly as good, but I am still enjoying a 19th century piece of literature. I also picked up a book called “The Inscrutable Japanese” which lays out the differences between Western and Japanese cultures and “The Grapes of Wrath.” These books should keep me entertained for another week or two. Sundays trip was very successful. In addition to the three books that I bought, I enjoyed the trip to Shukogawa through the park on my bike once again.

This morning, Wednesday, I went to hop on my bike for the ride to work. There was a strange bike in my spot. My bike was gone. I think I remember locking it up last night, but am not a hundred percent sure. There has been a couple of times that I haven’t locked it, but never at home over night. I have always locked it at home. I walked to the edge of the block, nothing. I texted Katsumoto and told him my bike was stolen. I have suffered a legitimate crime in Japan.

I had to run upstairs and grab the set of keys to the bike that Sogo provided for me when we came this summer. I put my bag in the front basket and pedaled my one-speed all the way to work. With each pedal I looked at the bikes I passed. 18 speed red mountain bikes are rare in Japan and I couldn’t help but fantasize about what I would do if I saw my bike. I tried to keep up ‘ramming speed’ all the way to work. Visions of the “Count of Monte Cristo” kept playing in my head.

By the time I got to work, I realized that the situation wasn’t that bad. So I spent 100 bucks on the bike. I have thrown more money than that away doing stupid stuff. The bike lasted me seven good months. My own personal ‘Wa’ was back in balance. I would like my bike back, but that won’t happen. I didn’t write the serial number down, but the thief didn’t get away totally free. He did leave me something to write about.

Tonight, Katsumoto and I went to the police station. The officer didn’t fill out an official report because I didn’t have any serial numbers to give him. That is one way the Japanese keep their crime statistics low, they report crimes which could be solved. They too, have a Wa they must maintain.

Please, don’t call them Wa enforcers.