Biking along the Shingawa River

My best friend in Japan is called Mamachari. I call her Millie. Luckily, I'm talking about my bike and not an very unfortunately named Japanese girl. Mamachari is the name for the ubiquitous standard bicycle that 99 out of 100 people use to get around town. It comes with a basket on the front, a rack on the back, a bell, hand brakes and one gear. It's the kind of bike you wouldn't be caught dead on in the States, but everyone has basically the same bike here, so you can dork your way around town in total obscurity. My bike has a sticker on the frame that says 'Mild', in no other context. This is how I came up with Millie. I think Mild Millie is a very respectable name for a Mamachari.

Millie and Me

I bought Millie from an outbound teacher for 3,000 Yen (30 bucks) and my quality of life has increased 10 fold since. Getting to school now takes 5 minutes instead of 20, grocery shopping is a breeze and I can explore a much bigger circle around my base now that I have this sweet set of wheels. I had been dying to check out the path that runs next to the Shingawa River since I got Millie, but wasn't sure how to get there. I could see it from the Toyo train line, but there isn't an easy way to follow the train to the river since the first portion of the line is underground. I took a look at the area on Google Maps and got a basic idea of where to go before setting off.

Friday was one of those days that seemed to be on rails. After a relaxing morning, I left the house around 2:00pm. Ten minutes of pedaling and 4 or 5 random good guess turn later, I ran straight into an entrance to the path. The weather was beautiful: sunny, not too humid, around 25 degrees (78ish in Fahrenheit). The path is in good shape and I had a big smile on my face as my town disappeared behind me and rice fields and wild flowers took over the landscape.

view of the Shingawa from a foot bridge

The sign above reads "Slippery! -Chiba Prefecture" but more interestingly, it features a Kappa. Kappa are one of the more bizarre Japanese mythical monsters I've come across so far. They are said to live in ponds and rivers, have a constant craving for cucumbers and one other far less appetizing food. The word is, if you swim with kappa, they will latch onto you and such out your internal organs, um, through your butt. WTF. However, despite this seriously kinky habit, they can quickly be defeated as a result of their innate good manners. You see, a kappa loses all of its power if it spills the water from the recession in the top of it's head, and being well cultured monsters, cannot resist returning a deep bow from a visitor. So to summarize: You go swimming somewhere you shouldn't have. A kappa is after your innards via your bum, so you bow deeply to the kappa and when he returns the bow, he spills his head puddle and is powerless to follow through with his nasty plan.
Hey Japan- Really?

Frequently, the story of Alice in Wonderland pops into my head here, particularly the part when she is wandering in the woods and comes upon the Mad Hatter's tea party. I feel just like that so many times here as I stumble into something that totally fascinates or confuses me (usually both) and then after a few minutes of observing, I find myself somehow flung into the situation interacting with the scenario I had been watching from behind a tree just a few minutes earlier.
Yes, that was foreshadowing.

About an hour into my ride I heard a buzzing sound overhead approaching fast from behind me. I looked up and saw a miniature plane doing barrel rolls about 20 feet above my head, going in the same direction I was. As I watched, it banked left over the river and came around for another low pass just in front of me. I couldn't see anything but farm and wetlands in any direction so naturally, I was stunned by the presence of a panda sized F-16 trying to engage me in a dog fight.

I had slowed down considerably and was looking into the sky as I followed the river around a bend and down a small hill. At the base of the hill I found the panda plane's base. There was a strip of very short grass about 50 meters long at the end of a dirt road cutting through miles of rice fields. I saw a few cars parked at the end of the road and some beach umbrellas set up along the runway. Getting closer I could see 4 men with remote control planes of varying styles. I was off my bike and had my camera ready when the F-16 came around again. By this time the men had seen me and were showing off for the camera.

"Negative Panda, the pattern is full"

The pilot demonstrated a few stalling maneuvers and plenty of rolls and low passes while I tried to get a few good photos when suddenly the plane went down like JFK Junior was in the cockpit. I watched stunned as the men ran past me and one of them said in Japanglish, "airplane is gone of battery, it is OK, we will search from now on." I jogged after them and followed them up the embankment of the river to get a better look at where the plane had landed. The men were speaking to each other in Japanese and though I didn't catch much of what they were saying, they didn't seem very concerned for the missing (very expensive) toy plane. I asked if it had landed in the water and got back, "It is not likely. The plane is very light and will not descend to the water. We can see it- if it is in the river. We can not see it so, maybe it is not in the river. Maybe we can looking through the big glass"

This is exactly how Japanglish sounds and I am getting quite good at understanding this kind of thing so it made perfect sense to me, but in case you need subtitles: The plane floats. We'd be able to see it if it were in the water. It's probably in the tall grass.
After a few minutes of trailblazing through the marsh, one of the men waved his arms in the air and yelled "Koko desu! (it's here!)"

I talked to the one man who could speak some English for a while as they cleaned the plane up and switched out the battery. He told me they were trying to line up the plane for a good photo for my benefit and got carried away, forgetting to look at the battery indicator. After chatting for a while, I thanked them for all the effort and continued on my way East along the Shingawa.
My intention was to cycle to the big Dutch Windmill I mentioned in an earlier post about a map that I had found at a local train station. I wasn't exactly sure where it was, but knew it was along the Shingawa somewhere before the river opened up into a lake/marsh. A few minutes after leaving my pilot buddies, I was kicking myself for not asking them which way and how far the windmill was when I ran over this:

This is how Japan works. I swear, it's so easy to live here. Things are just where they are supposed to be. I was in the middle of silently praising my new country for how how logical and understandable things are here even without speaking the language, when I ran over this:
Say what now? There are elephants in 10 kilometers? I thought the windmill was out of place but this was getting ridiculous. I wish I had answers for you, but by the time I got to the windmill it was getting late in the afternoon and I had to head home. I'll have to go looking for the elephants another day.

I came upon the windmill around 4:30 and walked around the moat once before noticing a sign posting the hours from 10:00-4:00. I guessed that's why the drawbridge was closed. I was standing in front of the windmill taking pictures when the drawbridge slowly lowered and softly thudded down on the grass across the moat. This seemed like an invitation but I wasn't sure and there was no one in sight, so I just stood there with a stupid look on my face for a few moments until I heard someone shout "Dozo!" from what sounded like a great distance. I looked around and still saw no one but when I heard the voice a second time, I looked up and saw a man gesturing me across the bridge from the tallest window of the mill.

drawbridge and moat

I changed out of my shoes and into some slippers and followed the man through the interior trying to pick up what I could from his monologue. I must have looked confused because after a while he handed me a pamphlet in English and said "Please, reading."
As a result I now know the following: The windmill was built in 1994, a gift from Holland for Sakura City's 40th birthday as a gesture of good will between the Dutch and the Japanese. (It's exactly what I thought! See earlier post from 8/8/08.) The windmill is Japan's first wind driven water pump and is adaptable to varying wind conditions by adjusting the sails on the blades.

windmill interior

rice fields and the Shingawa in the distance seen through a bare blade

koi filled moat and rice fields

I gave the tour guide an extra deep bow for letting me in after visiting hours and went to fetch Millie for the long ride home. I noticed a road side stand a few hundred meters past the windmill and decided to check it out. I had a full 4 or 5 minute conversation in Japanese with the farmer (I did a little dance about that once I was out of sight) and bought 5 huge tomatoes, 3 eggplants, 5 cucumbers and a bouquet of flowers for 9 bucks. Those tomatoes are the Platonic copy of what tomatoes are supposed to taste like. I must go find that stand again, and this time, bring some padding so they don't get so beat up in the basket on the way home. Hopefully I'll see him on my way to find the elephants.

360 view from a footbridge on the way home