What happens when a quest for peace almost devolves into a shoving match?
Thursday, June 11th was a rough day. It started with a 12 kilometer trek to temple 83 in a misty rain, and ended with two seperate mountains in the midst of a watery deluge. By the end of the day, me and Barnaby were soaked and exhausted. Our first choice for lodging had apparently been abandoned by its owners, so we had a convenience store lady call another place for us. We thanked her and trudged thanklessly back down the mountain to the Takayanagi Ryokan, our home for the night.
The owner seemed a little weird from the get go. Slightly ascerbic and sporting a dead eye, he asked me and Barnaby personal questions about our religion, and whether or not we wanted seperate rooms. I confirmed that we did, and he seemed relieved. Was he trying to screen out gay couples or something? But beyond that, everything seemed fine. I confirmed that we didn't need in-house meals, and said that we would probably try to leave by 6am. We tended to our wounds, the nice lady who co-runs the guesthouse drew a nice bath for us, and we had dinner at a gorgeous udon restaurant. Me and the Aussie meandered back to the guesthouse, and plopped to sleep.
I dragged myself out of bed around 630am to drop the kids off at the pool and brush my teeth. However, mid-brush, the owner stormed up to me, apparently furious. "YOU LIED! UNNACCEPTABLE! YOU SAID YOU WOULD LEAVE BY 6," he shouted in Japanese. What the fuck is going on?!? I was taken aback. I've sort of skirted around the rules at previous guesthouses, but I had never experienced this sort of treatment, even back when I was in the Army and people had an excuse to hate me. The owner's tirade continued in broken English. "IN 2 MONTHS, 2 HOTELS, CLOSE! YOU NO BREAKFAST?!? THIS IS BED AND BREAKFAST, BUT YOU NO BREAKFAST!" He rushed over to Barnaby's room, rattled the door, and screamed in English, "GET OUT! GET OUT!" Had I wandered into opposite day, where Japanese people exchange their kindness and politeness for shrill fury?
Looking back on this incident, there were 3 reasons that we incurred the innkeeper's wrath. First, we called ahead in the afternoon, as opposed to the day before. Second, we decided not to have meals there, which may have offended his sensibilities. Third, we were late getting out of bed. In addition, he appeared distraught over what I assume were the shuttering of some other lodging houses in the area. But as we hurried out the door, he said something so hurtful that it made me want to give him a good shove through one of those beautiful Japanese paper screen doors. "Your religion, Islam? Catholic?" he asked. I responded that I am a Christian, to which he answered, "Buddhist only."
Was he refering to his establishment, or trying to make some crude commentary about the 88 temple pilgrimage as a whole? I suppressed my urge to punch him in his ugly face, and said in simple Japanese, "I am leaving." As me and Barnaby walked out the door, he motioned that he had change. "Keep it," I shouted in English. We marched down the road in shock and anger, and then the strangest thing of all happened. The one-eyed innkeeper drove up and gave us our change, along with my toothbrush and toothpaste that I had left in my haste. I dutifully accepted it, and he drove away. Was he expressing regret, or did he just want to have the last word? I guess I'll never know.
From his broken comments about two hotels closing, I can assume that he was in some sort of financial distress. I mean, who isn't, in rural, working-poor Shikoku? And who knows how he lost his eye. Maybe a bar fight with some dickhead American GI. And the weird questions? Maybe some foreigners had made a mess of his place in the past. There must be reasons for his rage. I tried to justify our treatment in my mind.
But I couldn't. On the day I was to walk to temple 88, the first emotions I felt that day were panic, shame, and rage. There was no justification for what he had done. A one-eyed piece of shit had ruined the last day of the pilgrimage, and the only emotion I could feel was burning, bitter hatred.
And the day was about to get worse.
I will try not to feel hatred for that Innkeeper that treated you so badly and to me in a completely unjustifiable way. You are such a kind and gentle person. But as you say we can often not know why people act the way they do. What could they have possibly been confronted with in their past or are experiencing in their present?
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