Japan: A Series of Gut Decisions

Written by: Harrison Morales

     It was my very last night in Japan, and I had just arrived in a peculiar little place known as Rinku Town. I immediately made my way into my hotel room, dropped down my three months worth of luggage, and plopped right onto my bed. I was very, very tired. I had gotten about 30 minutes of sleep the night before, and spent the whole day either walking or straining to not fall asleep between train stops. I smelled horrible and was in desperate need of a shower. Yet, right before I could doze off, my gaze latched onto a light coming from the window. I looked out to find that, unfortunately for my sake, there was a beautiful sunset. Dramatically, I sighed, grabbed my camera, and practically sprinted back down to the lobby.

     Compared to the likes of Kyoto and Tokyo, Rinku should have been nothing but a footnote; yet for some reason, this is the place that’s been etched into my mind more than any other. As I walked around that night, I found myself mesmerized as I strolled through a little collection of shopping outlets. Again, it wasn’t anything spectacular; just a handful of restaurants and some American-brand shops, but it all felt like a dream. And this dream came together as I rounded the corner of a shop and laid eyes upon my most prominent memory; a giant ferris wheel. As it glowed green over the Osaka Bay, it managed to call out to me. It was giving me a choice…

     Now, by this point in my trip, I had started to become quite familiar with choices like these. You see, two and a half months prior, I had ventured north of Kyoto with a fellow group of CIEE students to hike up Mount Kurama. Snow and ice still covered the grounds, sunset was quickly approaching, all when we had class the next morning. While none of those facts existed in my mind when we started the hike; they surely did when we reached the top. The sun was gone, and we had two choices: A) Return back the way we came, or B) Follow the path, and pray there was a train station at the end. We chose the latter.

In turn, we were treated to a gorgeous scenery, and I tried ice cream from a vending machine. 

     A few weeks later I would find myself pacing back and forth in the comfort of my room, facing the same dilemma all over again. Ahead of me was a three-day weekend, and I had not a single plan. However, in front of my face was the booking page for the last hotel room on the little island of Innoshima. Again, I had two choices: A) Re-visit the streets of Kyoto, and catch up on all my class projects, or B) Travel two hours south, and bike the 28-mile Shimanami Kaido by myself. I chose the latter.

In turn, I had arguably one of the best days of my life. And, I met Joon, an extremely kind man who gave me his mandarin. 

     Come one springtime afternoon, my girlfriend and I would be walking the streets surrounding Mount Fuji. We were in the process of returning to Tokyo for her plane flight home, and it was getting to be quite late… late enough for the buses to stop running. A little after eating our fuji-colored ice cream and shopping for souvenirs, I weighed our choices; A) Catch the bus to Tokyo, and check into the hotel on time, or B) Visit the lake I had been wanting to see, and catch our last glimpse of Fuji-san. I suggested the first option to her, as I’d experienced my fair share of these predicaments. But, she immediately took me outside, and ran with me all the way down to the lake.

In turn, I made a new favorite memory with her, and got my dream photo.

     I approached the Rinku ferris wheel in wonder, simply just hoping to get a shot up close. However, I’d eventually land right beside the ticketing booth, where a short line of some little kids waited with their parents. I looked up once again. Surely, I, a lone and sweaty 22-year old would just pass by in peace, right?

     Inevitably, we all have to end up on the other side of our decisions. The real question is: What things should we make work? And what things should we let work out? I just wish I’d have figured this out somewhere other than the top of a ferris wheel.