Typhoon Jelawat

2012

台風

Japan has been intolerably hot and muggy since I landed 8 days ago. I forgot about the end-of-summer weather, which imposes itself well into the fall. The rain that fell on my second day in Tokyo brought misery to the start of my visit , so I hopped on a Bullet Train earlier  than I’d planned and sped to Kyoto, thinking the ambience had to be more pleasing even if would be just as humid and hot. I have fond memories of sultry summers in Kyoto many years ago, but the fact is that it was not any fun this time around I call this two-shower-a-day weather;  two pairs of  boxer shorts, with stick blue jeans.

Typhoon Jelawat 

But I thought I saw e relief coming when the weather forecast called for a strong typhoon to hit central Japan today after ripping through Okinawa,. My friends were very concerned about potential destruction – apparently the alst typhoon that blew over Kyoto caused some flooding and wind damage. Typhoon Jelawat turned out to be a milder   tropical storm with winds of about 75 miles per hour when it hit the mainland, but the downgrade didn’t stop the fury of the storm in my neighborhood.

I spent the day indoors in my pajamas listenig to the pounding rain and violent gusts of wind rattling of the windows and the roof. When the ferocity of the typhoon abated for a brief lull in the storm this afternoon I ventured out to a convince store that is a considerable walk up the road to get some beer. On my return to the refuge of the printmakers studio where I’m staying the skies opened up again and the blasts of wind came from every direction, blowing m cheap umbrella inside out and then outside in, flapping back and forth like that until the nylon popped off the spokes and I was left with an umbrella  skeleton to grip with both hands so it didn’t fly away. I was drenched when I got home, but exhilarated by being in the storm.

The morning after

In the evening it stopped in its tracks – no winding down or gradual cessation. One moment it was a typhoon, the next moment it was a quiet, wet neighborhood.  I walked down to the main drag on the south side of Daitokuji and al the shops were battened down steel accordion blinds , closed  out of respect for Jelawat.  The sky was clear with a bright gibbous moon shining down. I found one little restaurant open, a family place called “the place for a meal.”  I was the only customer. I ordered Japase style pork cutlets and rice. The bakery near by, which for some reason calls itself  “Even in the wind and rain,” was shuttered, putting the heroic postman to shame. Even in typhoons is not in their business plan. 

I came home, drank the beer and went to the public bath, which is open every day of the year until 1:00 am. The old man at the front counter explained. “Even in typhoons,” he said. “”But we’d probably close in an earthquake.” I was the only bather tonight. The air is clean and dry; I’m clean and dry and it’s time to stop writing and lie down on the thin mats the printmaker thought would pass for a futon, and go to sleep.