2025 – 09 – 17 Log from a Full Day

2025 – 09 – 17

Log from a Full Day

 

              Wrote a journal. A good one. 1000+ words and counting. Left to go to the bathroom, but then Windows did some fucky shit and it’s completely gone now. Bummer, bc I really liked how it was worded, too. Very similar to Uncle Joe’s writing. Ugh. Well, I have to write what I happened, so here’s some bulletpoints from my past day or so, with much less gusto than before:

 

              -Walked into a random knife shop and befriended a local, who gave me the rec to go to a park up on a mountain where we live for the view of the ships out on the water at night. Went there, it was sick, got great photos. She also literally called the bike shop for me for a bike rental and gave me recs for places to eat. As big a pain in the ass it’d be to transport, I should really go back and buy one of those knives.

              -Got an assisted-driving bike, which I promptly named “servo-assisted”, after the armour perk in Helldivers 2. Took the bike an hour and a half west, through the mountains. Even cheating with my servo-assisted, the incline was brutal. The 1.6km tunnel was, admittedly, scary as fuck. But I’m here to make myself comfortable with the uncomfortable, and there also happened to be more pros than cons. Beautiful, beautiful landscape. Stopped and put my feet in a running river. Took a billion pictures. Smiled the whole time. The island filled me with such an innocent joy. Realised I am exactly where I should be to build the version of myself that I want to be.

              -Finally made it to Komoda beach, where the Mongols attacked Tsushima in 1274 and 1281, events that inspired Ghost of Tsushima, which is how I found out about Tsushima to begin with. As a history buff and prior Soldier, I was honoured to visit the battlefield and shrines. The beach itself, though, was in a matter of disarray, with a commercial dock taking up most of the beach, ugly tank trap-shaped concrete objects blocking most of the water to negate damages from storms, and garbage lining the sparse sand. A storm came in, and I took cover under a run-down gazebo and realised that the locals should prioritise their safety and well-being over preserving a beach that hardly anyone could visit from being so darn far away from everything else. In honour of the brave defenders who threw everything down, and because I thought Jin Sakai would do it, I tried something new, and composed a haiku:

             

On a modest beach

Far across a dense island

Hides lasting courage

 

-I visited the shrine closest to the beach and paid my respects. Usually, they require 200 yen to go in, but all I had was a 500 yen, so I donated that instead. There was a visitor book next to it, so I signed it. Only a few foreigners signed it, them being from China, Korea, or Taiwan. I was the only westerner, let alone American, to sign it. It was also vertical, which was weird to sign, so I just did it sideways.

-I then sought out the tombs of So Sukekuni, the leader of the island who gave a valiant last stand with about 80 others against the brutal onslaught of as high as 25,000 Mongols. I meant tombs, the plural of tomb. As a testimony to the brutality of the battle, his head and body were buried in different spots. Biking through the offshoots of the island, I had a feeling I was one of the only white people some of the locals had seen in a long time. Even living in Izuhara, the biggest city on Tsushima, I haven’t seen another white person in three days.

-On the way to the body tomb, I realised how thirsty I was, having biked for so long and spent most of the day in the sun. I stopped by one of the vending machines placed all around Tsushima to get a drink. But unfortunately, I no longer had my 500 yen coin, as I had donated it to the shrine. In my wallet, all I had were 5000 yen and above bills – way too big for the vending machine. And, of course, no credit. So, I stumbled into a gas station and awkwardly asked a lady for change using Google Translate. She gave me change, and kindly warned me about the approaching storm. I glanced outside. Another ominous storm loomed above. I asked if I could stay under the awning outside during the storm, and she kindly said I could sit inside with her and her, I presume, son. So I did, and she gave me a coffee and a towel to wipe my sweaty as fuck face. I was extremely grateful, offered to pay, and she insisted no. Even let me keep the towel. Another wonderful encounter with the kind people of Tsushima.

-The tomb where So Sukekuni’s body laid was with several well-kept gravestones, all with recent offerings. I recalled reading on a plaque at Komoda Beach that the shoreline had changed, and that the battle was fought much further inland than the present-day coastline. This made me realise that the pride in small things generally attributed to the Japanese people was, in fact, still very present even out here in the country. I gave my thanks to the cemetery and departed to find where So Sukekuni’s head was buried.

-I pulled up to where I thought it should be, trekked up a weird path into the woodland, passing an open cage that was clearly meant to hunt some sort of large animal (a white person, maybe??), and realised I was in the wrong spot. Oh well, I turned around and found another way to the burial ground, passing three vans full of eastern tourists on the way.

-I felt a strong presence at So Sukekuni’s head’s burial ground, like I was in the presence of someone great. I go back and forth with my own history from the Army – a classic part of me still understands the will to give everything for something you believe in, while a more recent part of me struggles with the concept that all that motivation could just be a farce for an organisation to get more out of you than it’d ever be willing to give back. Maybe So Sukekuni and his men could have waged a guerilla war from the forests so they wouldn’t have been wiped out, although it’d be against the samurai way. Maybe I should have cared less about being a US Army Soldier so my sanity wouldn’t have been wiped out, although it’d be against the American way. It’s a thought exercise that was exacerbated by being in the presence of a great leader, who reminded me of LTC P and CSM P, the best leaders I had ever met.

-Regardless, I felt the need to give him my thanks for the wonderful people of Tsushima I’ve met, the beautiful land I’ve been able to admire, and the gratefulness I felt being welcomed as an outsider. I also did a bit of a flyer, and respectfully requested for his wisdom in finding something that I cared enough to give my all for, just like he did on that beach. Maybe not that whole dying part, but that belief that what he was doing ought to be done to the fullest. I finished with something of a rusty salute, the greatest honour I can give as an ex-Soldier. I probably made a bit of an ass of myself, but I hope he saw the intention.

-On my way back, I still hadn’t gotten anything else to drink, so I did what So Sukekuni probably would have wanted and courageously busted into another gas station and asked for a vending machine, all despite the language barrier. I don’t get gas stations here – no drinks at all. But, the lady there (and, I guess, her son as well?) offered me a “gift,” giving me two teas from a fridge in the back. “Drink them before they get warm,” she advised. She also refused to let me pay. Again, another incredibly kind gesture from the locals.

-Ride back was just as beautiful. Tried to take as many detours as I could, without going too out of the way. Took a billion more pictures, which will never do the views justice.

-Came back and showered, and went out to eat. Sat at a bar, a few seats down from an elderly man who smoked as he ate. On the TV, the world championship, idk, off-season Olympics played. A race was held where an American won against a Japanese runner, and the man exclaimed, “ah, American!” We looked at each other and smiled. On the way out, we bowed to each other and he kindly said, “Enjoy Japan” with a grin. The third incredibly nice Tsushima resident I’ve met today.

 

All-in-all, it’s been a great day. I can feel myself being rebuilt from the inside out, in a more pure and thankful form than I’ve been in the past. I came to Tsushima because of a video game, but I’m growing because of the peace this island has given me.

And would you look at that – just a bit shy of 1600 words, on a second draft. Who needs that missing first draft, anyways?