A visit to Mister Shima San

I can’t wait to see him. Shima san has good stories and advice, plus he speaks English.

From the temple to his house took me about two hours. He already knows much about what I am doing, and I like to spend time with him and his wife—a charming couple.

The ride was easy, and the weather helped. Finally, I arrived at his house, walked up the six steps, and rang the bell. Shima San opened the door. He was expecting me between 9 a.m. and noon. He sounded like he was not so sure if I would make it.

A house full of memories and dated between the 60s and 70s. Imagine that in Japan. His wife has a beautiful small garden behind the house.

This visit was more like a visit to an old friend who I talked to here and there. Not much news to talk about. Instead, I sit and listen to his adventures. After a couple of hours of talking over a plate of curry Shima san’s wife made, Shima asked me if I wanted to take a nap. Probably I look like I am falling asleep on the table. He took me upstairs, and I lay down on the tatami. With a lot of practice sleeping on the floor during my last year and a half in my Miami Beach home, sleeping on the floor on a “tatami” is like sleeping on cotton.

That same day, after my nap, he took me to meet a dear friend of his, a dancer. Shima san’s friend didn’t have to say much to make an impression on me.