Michi o Mayotta (serious)

So yesterday I decided to go for an adventure; I got a bit more than I bargained for, though not to say that it was all bad. Michi o mayotta, for those who don't know, is to lose one's way, so in effect, to get lost. I decided to attempt walking home, armed with a plethora of maps and  pre-determined route. I have to say, it didn't help me overmuch. I missed a turn after about 15 minutes of walking when I couldn't find the correct road (a main road, by all appearances, but one that I still have not found after retracing my steps). Now, as I said, it wasn't necessarily a bad experience. It was a pleasant day for a walk, not suffociatingly hot and humid as it has been the last couple of days, and I had at least two hours until darkness would blanket the land in a somewhat impenetrable layer of obscurity (there aren't as many street lamps here on residential roads). I stayed on a single main road knowing I could turn around at any time, winding my way through houses built in both the old Japanese style and the new western style, and shops with isles so narrow that some people, I'm sure, would not be able to move and should have to call a store attendant to find the item they desired. The occasional shrine could be found in a niche or recessess between buildings. In short, I was wandering through quite a cozy part of town.

One of the most beautiful aspects of Kyoto, of course, is the natural scenery, and I saw a fair bit of this as well. I passed over a major river, where red-crowned herons and gray herons both mingled with tourists on the grassy banks at the water's edge. Looking upstream, houses and businesses framed the heavily wodded mountains of the Kyoto area, which surrounded the city seemingly on every side. Sometimes I would find that, as I walked, the smaller businesses evolved into tremendous (though perhaps small by American standards) department buildings and offices, and then rapidly tapered off into long stretches of greenery, particularly whereever a temple reared its mighty gates. I walked for a while, suffice to say, before I decided that I was not just understimating the distance I had to travel to "my" road, but that I had passed it up entirely. Not too far, but far enough.
Somewhat discouraged, I starting reading the bus stop schedules to find one going to my station - a difficult task when your kanji is not up to par! Fortunately, I looked discouraged enough to be stopped by a pair of visiting students from Malaysia on a two week conference trip, who were happy to offer some help and, lo and behold, spoke excellent English. From them I learned that to reach my station, I could either pay for a bus or walk, but either way, only the Imadegawa station (the opposite direction from my university) would have a train to take me home. So, I bid them farewell and took off back down the road, a bit worried now that the sky had begun to turn from a striking blue to a deep purple blush. Fifteen minutes later, and with my feet a bit sore (laugh all you want, I wore sandals and bought textbooks that day, so I was carrying quite a bit of weight), I reached the station and boarded my train.
Adventure over, yes? Well........no. I got off, but underestimated the distance to my wonderful host family's home. Thus, I spent the better part of an hour walking up and down the street, trying to no avail to remember the face of the house I had seen onha once, and had thought rather distinctive (well, maybe it is a bit, but not that much!). The sky darkened and darkened further, until it was pitchblack overhead, and I do mean pitchlback - I could not see a single star. I called, but they were not home, which I suspect may have been part of my problem; expecting the lights to be on, as I was just barely scraping in in time for dinner, I mostly ignored the houses dark and devoid of residents. My mistake. Discouraged once more, I finally sat my weary bottom down at the corner next to a dental clinic and under a streetlamp, I'm sure looking like the saddest little lost gaijin puppy in the world (I had homework after all, and was not inclined to begin working on it until I had found my way home - I still believe I was going to be late for dinner).

Again, some time later, a business man came up to me and began making a great effort to ask, in English, if I was lost. Joy! I told him I was, to which he asked my address and I offered a set of numbers that made him crinkle his eyebrows and look all the more confused. Perhaps he was doubting my Japanese ability to some degree at that point as well. By a stroke of luck, I had been late picking up my mail the week before, and so happened to have a letter addressed to me for my alien registration. Haha! I was sure my address must be written somewhere on it, and sure enough, what I ignored as a meaningless string of kanji, he looked at and stopped me, saying - ah, there it is! Then he whipped out his GPS phone, spent ten precious moments of his time searching for the address, and even proceeded to guide me down the street as his phone politely listed directions out loud. I had, perhaps, not gone quite far enough to reach my house, though I think I also passed it once. At any rate, we both stopped, he told me that the kanji read "Akioka" on the front gate, asking me if they were the right kanji, to which I of course answered that I had no clue (when I told him I'd only been there 4 days, he laughed knowingly).
So, with a moment's more explanation that I would wait for them to return and search for the key that was supposed to be in the mailbox, I began to appologize profusely (which is the preferred action over thanking profusely here). I, being the dork that I am, still could not find the key, and so called one of the program coordinators, who I'm sure appreciated my late night attention, only for them to tell me, "well, look again." Haha. Of course, the key was there, but the moment I unlocked the gate, my host father appeared around the corner (returning from work), and looked horribly surprised to find me in the dark in front of the gate. Impatience bites me every time!

But there you are. The end of my "lost" adventure. To whoever you were who saved me with your GPS, thank you, thank you, thank you! I will never forget that, and I will try never to forget where I live again! I think I might take the train home tomorrow rather than attempting to walk again...maybe next week. At any rate, I can say I'm more likely to die of mosquito bites and kanji overdose than getting lost, but anyway, ganbarimasu!