3 days ago, I went white water rafting in Shikoku. This was a trip one of my coworkers put together and I wish I could put into words the amount of pure joy and unadulterated wonderfulness I experienced that weekend. But I can't. So I'll just say, (as my students would put it) "it was velly fun!" I laughed, I ate really good barbeque and I drifted around in a river for about 5 hours. Well, actually it was a little more complicated than just "drifting."
I'll start from the beginning.
It was Sunday morning and my day was already off to a late start. I'd just found out the day before that it was an overnight trip that I was going on, so I stayed up late being nervous and overslept by 3 hours the next day, missed service at my local congregation (which I absolutely NEED to survive - and I mean that literally and figuratively) and had only 20 minutes to pack and get ready to take a train to meet up with my coworkers in a neighboring city. I overpacked my bag and met up with a group of about 12 people.
We all bonded through our crazy work experiences and then took the train to Shikoku . . . a beautiful, magical city where dreams come true. Well, I'm actually exaggerating a little bit, but Shikoku was truly beautiful. It was hard to believe that this was going to be the backdrop to our experiences that weekend.
When we got to our abode, everyone chose rooms and I was blessed to be able to have a room all to myself.
That night we barbecued, took pictures, listened to music and danced. We told jokes, played games and had conversations that ranged from clothes and fashion to religion and politics. It was everything we needed to reconfirm exactly why we were out here on the other side of the planet. And I can honestly say that it was totally necessary to rejuvenating our desire to be on this side of the planet in the first place.
So I had a beer, got sleepy and went to bed. Everyone else went to bed at around the same time and the next morning, we got suited up and ready to hit the river.
Now after putting on what seemed like multiple layers of rubber suits and a helmet, we trudged to the sand and planted ourselves on some big rocks where we listened to the "safety spiel."
"I have to give you the procedures for what to do in case you fall out of the raft or your raft flips over," a small, balding Australian guy explained to us. "Yes, it sounds bad and we hope it doesn't happen but there's always a chance it will and if white water rafting were 100% safe, you probably wouldn't be doing it in the first place." He's got a point, I remember thinking to myself, but he probably just has to go through this spiel with everyone. I told them that I can't swim very well, so I doubt we'll be going down rapids that are too wild.
So while we sat and received our spiel, I observed the other two rafting groups around us. One of the rafts was filled with some of my American coworkers and maybe about 3 or 4 Japanese people. The other raft was filled with only Japanese people. The latter group was actually in their raft, planted at the edge of the water, going through rowing simulations. "Ichi, ni!" "Ichi, ni!" they shouted while pretending to plunge their paddles through the water. That's nice, I thought to myself. I wonder if we'll get to practice our "rowing technique." Right at that moment, a big, grizzly, long-haired New Zealand man comes walking up. He was wearing a rubber sleeveless shirt, some torn up shorts, multiple bags around his waste and a helmet shaped like an old army cap. He summoned us over to our raft and we all jumped in, the boys heading to the front, two girls right behind them in the second row and two other girls in front of me . . . and I had to be stuck in the last row with Captain Kiwi. "Great!" I remember mumbling to myself. And he smelled like sweat. (Which, I have no idea how that was even possible considering that he was already drenched in river water . . . but then again, maybe he was just drenched in sweat.)
So Captain Kiwi gives one swift movement of his paddle and the next thing we know the raft is floating in the water. He gives us a few (and I mean very minimal) instruction and we were rolling down the river. (And don't think we didn't sing the "Rolling down the River" song a few times, either). Now it didn't take long for us to realize that Captain Kiwi was a bit . . . how do you say . . . crazy. And I don't mean insane. I mean "Crocodile Hunter" crazy. He was looking for excitement. He'd traveled the world, riding the rapids and searching for waves. And on top of this, he was as masculine as humanly possible. He was like something out of a Foster's beer commercial. (But I soon found out that I shouldn't dare call him an Australian because he was from New Zealand and apparently, this is not something you want to get mixed up.) Either way, he was glorious and it didn't take long for all of the girls to have a crush on him. A big, hairy, smelly, crazy white guy. And I must admit, I was a little drawn to him as well . . . but just a little.
I think it hit me that I had the best seat in the house when our raft flipped over. Oh, yes . . . you heard me right. OUR RAFT FLIPPED OVER! I was trapped under the raft and flapping around like a carp (breaking rule #1 of "what not to do when your raft flips over" which is panic) when I heard a soothing voice out of nowhere that said, "You're okay." And then again, "You're okay, you're okay." I looked up and saw Captain Kiwi reaching out for me. I grabbed out for him and held on until I realized that my life vest was doing an already nifty job of keeping me afloat. Everyone around us was screaming and floundering around in the water as well. Then (and I'm serious about this) Capt. Kiwi literally flew up into the sky, jumped onto the overturned raft, gave a hearty laugh and pulled a rope that turned the whole vessel right side up. He hopped into the raft, grabbed me and pulled me in beside him and began pulling more people into the raft until suddenly we were all sitting in our former seats, looking around confused. It was obvious that this man was in his element.
The worst is over, I thought to myself. Long story short, I was wrong. There was one point while rafting that Captain Kiwi told us to steer our rafts a little closer to some big rocks. We did as we were told and soon, we were docked. "Get out," he says. Everyone got quiet. Suddenly, I decided to be brave, stood up and made my way over to climb the rocks. If I'd have known that once we were all on the rocks Capt. Kiwi was going to hop back into the raft, untie it and start rowing away, I would have thought twice. I continued to climb up the rock until I reached the highest point which oddly, looked like a diving board. When I looked down, I saw Capt. Kiwi in the water holding a camera and gesturing, yelling, "Jump!" Crap! I thought to myself. Crap! Crap! Crap! What am I doing here?! How did I get here?! After 3 seconds of self therapy, I jumped and as you can see by this blog post, I survived.
So after this, we're back in the raft drifting along in an odd silence. I guess this was a little too slow and calm for our dare devil Captain because almost out of nowhere, he starts talking about the next little . . . I don't know . . . "rapid area" and how easy it's going to be to go over and we all might as well just jump out and swim through it. No one responds to this. Then, after a couple of seconds he calmly says, "Get out." Everyone laughed a little and kept rowing. "Get out, or I will personally throw each and every one of you out, one by one" he says slowly. At that moment, I stood up and just jumped out of the raft. I saw how easily this man had pulled people into the raft two by two and had no doubt that he could probably throw us out of the raft with even more ease. So as soon as I jumped into the water, the current carried me along down the river. I saw the rest of my crew floating downward toward the little rapid area and reemerging gingerly, like going down a small sliding board. I (on the other hand) had a different experience. As I went down the little bubbly stream area, I started to drift closer and closer to some rocks. No matter how hard I tried I could not escape. Finally, I felt the water beginning to pull my feet under. Preparing for the inevitable plunge, I tried to take a deep breath and ended up with a mouth full of water. I was swirled around as if I was in a washing machine and as the water pushed me back up I yelled out "Help!" and heard nothing but laughter. At that point, I realized that I was now floating above the water and drifting even closer to the huge rocks. I reached out and held onto the rocks, attempting to catch my breath. It was not a good feeling. It was then that Captain Kiwi and I realized that I didn't need any more adventure. After catching my breath for a couple of minutes, I swam over to the raft and without a word, Captain Kiwi grabbed me and flipped me in.
After this, there was lunch. Delicious, tuna, lettuce, cheese, tea, juice, fruit, and homemade bagels made by the rafting company. Everyone was starving and gobbled up the lunch with quickness. I remember looking around at everyone and thinking . . . "well, that was fun!"
That's when I found out that we'd only done about 2 hours of our rafting excursion and there was 3 more hours left. So after lunch, we put our helmets back on and went back to the river. There was more swimming, more diving and more rapids but no more flipping over, thank goodness!
I really don't know how to end this post except to say that everyone went home tired, happy (and alive). We had a blast and if you are ever in Japan, I suggest you look up the HappyRaft rafting company and go white water rafting. And if you happen to run into a crazy Kiwi named Sam, tell him that a Black Geisha owes him her life.
and more pics just for fun . . .
the "red rocket" rafting group
For some odd reason, my American flag dart kept hitting the bulls eye. My coworkers kept saying it was because it was the 4th of July, but I just think it was because I had good aim.
2 of the lovely ladies from my group chowing down on some tuna bagels.
"Kiwi Sam" (or as I called him, "Tucan Sam") showing off his masculine diving skills.
Our group
The "Red Rockets" again.
Some members of the Japanese raft group.
Me and another sistah that happened upon this wonderful rafting trip.
the guys, striking a pose
the living room . . . notice the coffee table that's filled with snacks.
One of the guys, getting a little too into the music.
My friend, using body language to encompass the way we were all feeling. Pure joy!
The night was fun, yet mature and clean. I loved the fact that nobody had to get drunk or belligerent to enjoy themselves. It was just a bunch of grown people relaxing and having a good time.
and last, but certainly not least . . .
Ms Black Geisha herself!
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