I apologize to my millions of faithful readers. My site is undergoing some ongoing (and sluggish) renovation and thus I’ve been unable to update it. But there’s no shortage of interesting experiences to report. Last weekend I took an overnight bus to the stunning city of Nagasaki.
Known for centuries as Japan’s Catholic refuge, to this day Nagasaki is sprawling with seaside churches, set against lush mountainous backdrops that look more like South America than the Orient.
From the early 17th century to the mid 19th century, Japan was a closed country. Ninety-nine percent of trade and all European influence came through Nagasaki Harbor’s manmade island of Dejima. On this island no bigger than a train station, Dutch tradesmen would spend a summer monitoring imports from their expanding empire, drinking, making love to Japanese prostitutes, getting filthy rich, and bringing lavish gifts to both their handlers and Japan’s rulers.
This served, like any gift still does, as a chance to show off the exotic wonders of their vast empire. And I would kill to witness the moment the Japanese first saw any of the wild animals brought to Dejima by the Dutch.
There isn’t a better, more wondrous, funnier, more enthusiastic, or genuine expression of shock than that of the Japanese. Why is this so? Maybe it comes from an overworked culture with minimal leisure, or perhaps an utter lack of sarcasm in their humor. Maybe it’s because facial expressions are so important to them. One cannot watch Japanese TV without seeing little bubbles of people’s faces.
And to imagine the moment the idling Japanese handlers, already buoyant and excited as they always are to host newcomers, first materialized the image of a massive Indian elephant in their brain, is almost too much to appreciate. Oaaaaaahhh!
I never understood why the U.S. dropped the 2nd atomic bomb on the largest Catholic community in th orient.