Today my left foot felt sore on the mountain.

I have had her betray me before.

I was pondering this Lando Calrisian esque fortress that my wife and I were visiting on a business trip and all the sudden my shoe felt too tight.

I thought to myself these damn Nikes; my former indoor shoes that I have recently liberated must be shrinking in the wild. Then in the car on the way back to our village the truth was revealed. I had jammed my toe while messing around with my seven year old and now there was hell to pay.

Actually not really hell to pay….

This was actually an onsen opportunity™

I pulled over to get some fresh vegetables from the store that that is stocked by local farmers that is adjacent to the local onsen. In front of the store there is a small public free foot bath with hot water supplied from the onsen. I had been eying this place for months and today was the gaijin’s big day. I shuffled up to the edge of the small wooden pool. I took off my size 13 Nikes and gently submerged my beloved left foot in the healing waters of Shizuoka. There was nobody there no Ba Chans no G Chans just Mar Tan and a cat.

I soaked my foot with all the vigor and joy shown by Andy Dufresne at the end of his voyage through the sewers of Shawshank. The small bold steps one makes as an expatriate in Japan.

I had watched dozens of old people on my mountain throughout the pandemic soaking their feet in this bath without a care in the world. They chatted and greeted each other with smiles and konnichiwas and how I had wished to join them. There was nothing stopping me but the unwritten unvetted rules of foreign decorum as dictated by the voice in my head.

 

I am living beyond the guidebook and before assimilation. My left foot and I.