fear on the ferry
After nine days in Kansai, I boarded the ferry for Ehime last night. I checked into a nitei shitsu with a 9 o'clock meal of sesame spinach, salmon rice ball and burdock root. Then, at 9:30, I took a bath. Halfway through washing my hair, the boat turned up on its side. The steamy water from the bath flowed over the edge, into the washing area. At first we thought this was normal but it kept coming, more and more water cascading over the side. The little girl in the room started bawling--the water was scalding hot, all the way up to her torso. All pretensions of soapy cleanliness interrupted, we turned around on our little stools and looked on in confusion, then, worry. The water came up to our knees. The mom picked up the little girl to keep her out of the water and, without thinking, I stood up, ready to bolt. I had visions of the Titanic and me, running around half naked, fresh out of the bath, trying to save myself from a sinking ship. How much time should I spend opening my locker outside and putting on clothes? Will modesty cost me my life? To die naked, on a sinking ship, soapsuds still in my hair, would be absurd. The recovery crew would see us through the window, ten naked women and a little girl, suspended in a fish bowl. Perhaps the mom saw this image on my face. "Nami da yo," she smiled and moved her hands in a wave motion. Still, we all looked on in concern. Nami have peaks and valleys, not one uninterrupted crest for over 60 seconds. I sat back down like everyone else, amazed at my ability for passivity. When the water subsided, I looked around at the other women and laughed, "Kowakatta ne." Yep, that was hella scary.