Chapter 15

In which we prove that we are truly "baka gaijing " (stupid foreigners) and the Japanese prove, once again, that they are among the most gracious people in the world.

Most Japanese people travel by train or bus because the public transportation is reliable, speedy, and comfortable. It is also expensive. Which is why we decided to drive the family to Akita for the Feast of the Assumption. We have a road atlas of our own, and I had made a special trip to ITT, the travel office on base, for a map of the Akita area. It showed the Shrine of Our Lady of Akita, so I figured we were all set.

We left a little later than planned, but only about 15 minutes late, a minor miracle in this family. I felt confident that we would arrive at the promised 8:30 p.m. I know the sisters go to bed early because they rise at 5:30 for 6:00 morning prayer. And the lights out time is 10:00 p.m. in the guest house. No problem.
So I thought.
It is not as easy as I believed to find Seitai Hoshikai. In the dark. When I had only been there once before. And I was busy talking in the car that time and didn't pay close attention to the roads. And we didn't have any minutes on our cell phone. Which didn't really matter since I had forgotten to print out the page with the phone number on it anyway.
Note to self: ITT maps are not detailed enough. (and a few other things...)

In spite of a longer-than-planned dinner break at the Morioka Mall (something about the deep teenage need for a Jimi Hendrix poster to be hung on the wall of the guest house--I think you had to be part of Patrick's Confirmation class for this to make any sense at all.), we took the exit for Akita at approximately 8:20 p.m. Perfectly timed. Then we headed toward the road we thought we should take. We stopped to double check the map. It looks like if we keep going toward the right....

None of us expected to still be driving around on darkened country roads on the outskirts of Akita at 9:30 p.m. Which is when we stopped the second time for directions. Brave Patrick accompanied me into Lawsons (a quick shop) to try to help me interpret Japanese. I was praying mental Hail Marys like mad. The clerk spoke some English AND he knew the place we were looking for. Hooray!!

He took one look at our nearly useless map and pulled out the phone book. He called the sisters. Sr. Clara, the English-speaking sister who I contacted to make our reservations, phoned back in a few minutes.

Within 15 minutes, Sr. Clara and the sister who can drive the car, along with their dog, Megu, were in the Lawsons parking lot and led us to their home. She did not chide us for our lateness or lostness. Like a very patient mother, she only said, "We were a little worried about you. I am happy you are safely here."

We were deeply embarrassed at our lateness and the trouble we caused. But everyone who helped us was so gracious. It was as if helping lost foreigners who speak only about 5 words of Japanese (much credit is due to Patrick, who speaks many more than 5) was their most important job. Two different clerks looked at maps, one found a phone number, made telephone calls for us, and to top it all off, when we had to wait outside on a sultry night, the Lawsons clerk brought us 3 bottles of cold Pocari Sweat, a Gatorade-like lemon-limey drink.

He told me he was a Protestant Christian, which was why he knew about the statue and Maria garden. He was an answer to prayer, I think. Someone who knew where we needed to go and was willing to expend the extra effort to help.