Japan Night and Baraka

January 29, 2006

Earlier this week my letter group came up with a Japanese name for me that's pronounced "Adamu", and consists of three symbols: Asia, Sail, Dream. We were sailing off the coast of Taiwan when they gave me that name - how cool is that?

Yesterday I went to the Sho-Doh club - Japanese calligraphy using brushes and charcoal ink - and one of the girls made me a sign with the symbols for "adamu" on it.

As of yet I have no tattoos, simply because I could never come up with anything worthy of my skin, but I think I've now found a strong candidate...

After Singapore our schedule on ship calmed for a few days, giving us a bit more of a flexible schedule.

The pool has opened on the 7th floor, and each day before lunch I go for a dip, then gaze up into the blue sky while tanning on the deck and thinking about how unreal this all is.

Although the pool is nice, the Grand Bath is truly something else.

Part of Japanese culture is a love of bathing - in their houses they have a special bath / shower room where you have a shower on a hose and a stool to sit on while you wash and rinse yourself, and then get into the tub to soak for a bit.

The reason you wash outside of the bath is because the next family member will be using the same bath water to soak in once you're done.

The Grand Bath is essentially a larger version of this, with separate baths for men and women.

You come into one room, undress (yes, completely) and go into a room that has a series of stool / shower stalls, two hot tubs, and a door to a very hot sauna.

Aside from being a far superior alternative to the tiny, smelly shower in the airplane-sized washroom in our cabins, the grand bath serves as a unique place to socialize.

The altered blood pressure from the heat, the literal nakedness and seperation from the opposite sex work together to bring out things we don't always hear from the usually shy Japanese participants. Like songs.

In addition to a national presentation, each delegation onboard throws a party separate from the presentation which usually involves food, alcohol, and dancing.

Lots, and lots of dancing... in fact if anything that's what I'd say is our number one means of passing time onboard the Nippon Maru.

Last night Japan had it's party, with sake and plum wine, along with rice cakes (a chewy, gummy snack served covered in peanut dust), japanese guitar and many other edible and auditory treats.

As the formal part of the party was winding down a friend asked if I was going to come watch a movie playing downstairs, called Baraka.

Those that know me well can probably guess my answer: I can rent a movie any time, why would I bother watching one now?

Had the friend not been a rather fetching blonde I would have stuck to my guns, but a few minutes later I found myself in the theatre, mesmerized.

Baraka is a feature length film without dialouge or commentary - simply sounds and breathtaking images from every corner of the globe. And when I say breathtaking I mean you'll find yourself gasping for air as you soak it in.

What made my experience so unique that evening however, was something that I nearly overlooked - if I would have just rented the movie at home I would have missed the experience of taking in these images in a roomful of people who actually knew what I was seeing.

This was shown through subtle ways - a single pair of hands clapping in the bottom of the theatre as a man jumps in a trance on the screen. The tribes in the film, the intricate insides of mosques, the sacred scenery - new and unbelievable to my eyes, but home to my companions.

It was quite something to have friends around to ask about what I had just seen immediately after the film.

After Baraka I went back up to the piano lounge and enjoyed a few bottles of duty-free Asahi (Japanese beer - by the way alcohol is duty-free on the ship), danced up a storm and then headed out the sports deck where I found 5 of my favourite Japanese friends singing japanese songs, as if they were gathered around an imaginary campfire...

After watching and listening to them for a while they started signing english songs so I could join in. Once we ran out of Abba and the Beatles we ended up singing songs I sang in kindergarten and haven't used for over a decade - head and shoulders, knees and toes, knees and toes...

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands.