September 13, 2005

Buying Sandals on Rishiri Island

A couple of weeks ago, I climbed Mount Rishiri (photos in the gallery), an island-mountain off the Northwest coast of Hokkaido. I climbed in runners in the rain, so my feet got very wet. Coming off the mountain, I needed to buy a pair of sandals. I got on my bike and went looking for a shoe-shop in the tiny port of Oshidomari, with no real hope that I would find a pair of sandals my foreign size on such a tiny island as Rishiri.

Finding a shoe shop, to my surprise there was a pair of New Balance sandals in the shop window, and they looked like they might fit. As I went into the unstaffed shop, a bell sounded to tell the owners in the back a customer had arrived. A plumpish realist of a woman in her late thirties or early fourties arrived and asked if she could help me. I pointed to the sandals and asked if I could try them on, speaking confidently in Japanese to dispel any doubts she might have. She said she'd go get them from the store room at the back and went off again.

Then a much older lady arrived, bent over but with a glint in her eye that made her seem much more alive than her daughter. She asked me if she could help me, and I told her I was already being served, and that I was waiting to try on a pair of sandals.

The conversation began. In it, the old lady switched roles from flirting young version of herself, to salewoman, to old lady concerned about religious customs without a moment's thought or warning. Staying in the conversation was like surfing a very enjoyable wave. I didn't want it to stop, but there's only so long you can draw out the process of buying a pair of sandals.

And where are you from?

Ireland

Is it very cold there?

About as cold as Japan.

Japan? What do you mean by Japan?

Hmmm. Tokyo, I suppose.

Ah, then you come from a very warm place. It must be cold for you up here on Rishiri. And what are you doing on Rishiri?

I climbed the mountain today.

Oh, it must have been very, very tough.

Well, the weather was fairly bad today, but if the weather had been good it wouldn't have been tough at all. My feet got wet, you see; that's why I'm buying sandals.

[Daughter returns with the sandals, I look at them and think they're too small, and the old lady's sales instinct kicks in]

Ah, but you must try them on. You can't tell just by looking. Here, take off those wet runners. Oh, what smart feet you have. Lovely, smart feet. So smart. There, see, they fit you perfectly. Just the right size.

That's great. How much are they?

They're 3,800 yen plus consumption tax, but I'll tell you what, we won't charge you any consumption tax at all.

That's very nice of you. I'll take them. I'd like to wear them from now if you don't mind. Could you put my runners in a bag?

Oh, but you can't wear them now. That's not done. You never put on new shoes in the evening. Always best to wait until the next morning. Something bad might happen.

[Daughter jumps in]

But the poor lad's feet are soaked. He wants to wear them now. That's why he's buying them.

[Mother]

Yes, and they're lovely smart feet and he's a lovely fellow, but it's dangerous putting new shoes on at night, and he really shouldn't do that.

[Daughter]

Mother!

[Mother]

Wait, there's a way around this. Give me that red marker.

[Starts making marks on the soles of the new sandals]

There, they're not new any more. It's fine to wear them, now. We'll put those runners in a bag. Here, put the other one on. Your feet look soaked.

[Outside the shop, mission accomplished, saying goodbye to my new friends]

Ah, you came by bike? From Tokyo?

No, just from Kushiro.

Wah...wonderful. Are you a regular member of a gymnasium?

Well, I am, but my attendance isn't all that regular...

Wonderful, really wonderful, travelling around Japan on your bike. Are you going for dinner now?

I am, yes.

Have a lovely dinner and please ride carefully. Thank you very much.

I said my thank yous and cycled off in my new sandals, happy to have met them and sad the Rishiri sandal experience eventually had to come to an end.

Posted by Setsunai at September 13, 2005 10:54 AM
Comments

Looks like you got in everything I've always wanted from Hokkaido. Lucky git! I'd prefer to go in spring though, and try to catch a glimpse of the ice floes up on the northern coast there.

Posted by: Luke at September 13, 2005 1:24 PM | Permalink to Comment

I'm already thinking of doing a winter hike in Shiretoko and timing it to coincide with the ice floes!

Posted by: Setsunai at September 13, 2005 2:03 PM | Permalink to Comment

Are you flirting with old women and letting them feel your feet up?
I thought that she was not letting you wear them then, because you'd only find out the next day that they didn't really fit.

Posted by: Paul at September 14, 2005 12:15 AM | Permalink to Comment

Hey Sets,

I just wanted to say that this is an awesome post. You captured the very essence of the type of thing that keeps me interested in the small towns of Japan.

Posted by: Justin at September 14, 2005 2:45 PM | Permalink to Comment

Cheers Justin. Those are the moments.

Posted by: Setsunai at September 15, 2005 10:26 AM | Permalink to Comment
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