Sobo and Dawn

by Caitlin Cefai (Australia)

Making a local connection Japan

In December 2019 two friends and I decided that our ‘schoolies’ adventure should differ from the traditional pilgrimage of 18-year-olds to the Gold Coast party scene, so instead we spent our small part-time job savings on a brilliantly spontaneous trip to Tokyo, Japan. Merely days after exams had ended, we were off. Seven hours of nervous laughter and quiet games of Uno aboard a budget aeroplane brought us to the stunningly peaceful city of Tokyo. It’s safe to say the one thing that has resonated with me most from this trip was the kindness of the people. However, it was the company of two particularly wonderful women that I will remember and treasure forever. On our first day in Tokyo whilst exploring the local area around our apartment, we came across a small clothing shop separating an overstuffed bottle-O and a discount chemist. Before we even had a chance to browse the aisles of plump woollen sweaters and trinkets galore, the owner - a woman of perhaps 80 and barely 5 feet tall that we appropriately nicknamed “Sobo” (‘grandmother’) – appeared out of thin air offering a handshake. She said ‘hello’ in English and complimented our outfits as “kawaii” (‘cute’). Her husband became a translator, rapidly communicating everything she wanted to tell us with lightning speed. Sobo reminded me of every anime grandmother I had watched on tv as a kid; kind and respectful, and generally interested in not just our business but our adventures, she particularly wanted to know what we had planned for the day. Sobo’s husband laughed at her enthusiasm, but we ate it up - eager to learn more about this wise-old-owl character whom we had gratefully stumbled upon in our journey. After about half an hour of talking, separated by brief moments of having a chance to actually look at the merchandise, we put some small hair pins and handbags aside and promised to return at the end of the day to purchase them on our way back from Harajuku. Seeing her became a daily ritual; we would walk past her store on the way to and from the train station and wave, she’d smiled, and her husband would wave back. We were so glad to have made a lasting connection, my only regret from this trip is not getting a picture taken with the lovely elderly lady. I only hope the next time I make my way to Japan Sobo is still at her little shop, selling hair pins and bags to people with as much enthusiasm and heart as when she sold them to us. Next time I’ll remember to take a photo. The other memorable soul we met on our travels was Dawn. Dawn was the incredible tour guide on our day trip to Mount Fuji and knew more about the geography and history of Tokyo than anyone we had encountered thus far. On the first leg of the tour - a two-and-a-half-hour climb to the Mt Fuji 5th Station, over 2 kilometres above sea level - Dawn told us about her education as a literature student and how much she adored the homey suburbs on the outskirts of Tokyo as opposed to the overcrowded city. Dawn had knowledge as vast as the mountains surrounding us on the highway, and we took full advantage as we listened to her speak about the Shinto faith, discuss the cultural connection between tradition and innovation, and ramble about the seasonal growing patterns of rural Japanese yuzu farmers whose entire life depended on a successful harvest. Dawn spoke to us and the rest of the tourists as a person, not just a guide, and learnt our names and our faces so well that by the end of the day she was wishing us all individually farewell. In the taxi ride back home, we talked only of Dawn, almost forgetting that we had just been to one of – if not the most – iconic destination in Japan. I will forever remember Dawn as the woman who outshined one of the world’s most beautiful places, simply with her intelligence and kindness. If I ever have the pleasure of meeting Dawn again, I have strong feeling she’d still remember my name.