Zushi

I moved into Zushi town in mid-December and it has quickly become one of the most fascinating places that I have ever lived.

Before painting its picture, it is important to note that Zushi has a “town feel.” Compared to the streets of Tokyo and Yokohama and Yokosuka suburbs, the people are friendly. Many shops are local and each house and garden has a distinct character. There are few street lamps outside the town center and the nights are dark and quiet. I live near a set of school grounds, and I often see children walking and families supporting their children’s sporting events on the weekends.

Zushi town’s main draw is its beach. Within an hour southwest of Tokyo, scores of youths travel down on hot summer days. The waves are small, but the waters glow sky blue just after sunset. The sand is brown and the waves wash up many colors of shells, stones and seaweeds onto the shore. Windy days attract windsurfers and surfers, even in the winter. The beach itself faces west and offers brilliant views of the setting sun and Fujisan. In fact, this past Sunday about 100 people watched it set with red radiant clouds and a full seven color rainbow.

Just a short climb from the beach is Hiro-o Yama Park. Sitting atop a tall coastal hill, the park has postcard views of Fujisan behind the green cliffs and blue crashing waters of Sagami bay. It has a small animal park with birds, turtles and Japanese macaque monkeys (of which I will write more of in the future).

The bustling town area is centered around two train lines. Surrounding are small surf shops, groceries, flower shops, antique shops and a large variety of small businesses. Also, there are noodle and sushi shops as well as Italian, Thai and French restaurants and bakeries. Nearby is Zushi Plaza, which houses a library, town meeting center for government, recreation and hobby groups and an indoor swimming pool.

I live a mile inland from the beach, amidst thickly forested hillsides. I have traveled a few times to a forested area named Nagoye. This past week I went up into its bamboo forest. I climbed a steep hillside, using bamboo stumps and shoots as my ladder, and sat for some time amidst the wondrous vegetation. The wind would blow strong, loudly rustling its leaves and bending the tall, skinny and hallow poles back and forth. It felt like the massive steel-hard trunks could snap and fall at any moment, but its roots held strong and I was safe.

Above the bamboo forest, is a set of tiered rice and vegetable fields. An old man and woman farm the property with a group of young field hands. The old man is skinny and wears a big green brimmed cap that could have been taken from a farmer in the cornhusks of Nebraska. The woman is bent and wears a head rag. She has yelled at me to leave the property a couple of times, but her husband cools her down and smiles.

The big attraction of the area is its old white ume, or plum blossoms. I have become close to the ume: watching its white flowers against the deep blue sky, its petals glow translucent against the sun or mejiro hop from branch to branch.
Thus is the extent of my knowledge of Zushi town. I hope to stay for the Spring and write of the changes.