“Look at that store” my girlfriend said stopping and pointing to a shop to my right, “isn’t it interesting?” My head turned following her finger to reveal a rather typical Japanese storefront set slightly back into the block. A dark green overhang shaded the door and a few wooden signs with writing carved in them slung from the front right edge were swaying gently in the breeze. It was only when my eyes settled on the small wooden stand holding four katana sheathed tightly in their jet black scabbards sitting smack dab in the middle of the display window that I took a step back and focused on what was before me.
Amongst the jumble of kanji (Japanese complex characters) I made out the purpose of the store, selling swords, which by this time was quite obvious after seeing what was in the front window. I could just make out a young man sitting at a small table, back to us, staring intently at a table with papers as well as the dim shadows of more swords and unknown wonders laying just behind the entryway.
“Should we go in?” she asked looking up at me. I stood for a moment just looking at the shop from where I was standing, neither moving towards nor away from. It was then that I felt an invisible and almost imperceptible barrier sitting just in front of the building. Inside that door was something mysterious, unknown, and seemingly impenetrable.
Images of samurai, training, hardships and a myriad of things I didn’t know scrolled through my head. Should I go in? Could I go in? What should I say? What should I do? These thoughts developed into a kernel of doubt that was slowly growing into something more. This was no simple store; it was a representation of history and practices going back hundreds if not thousands of years and how could I expect to understand or become a part of it?
I took a step forward, then another and with my girlfriend holding my hand trailing behind I gently opened the door and stepped in. The loud and out of place electronic chime announced our entrance and created no reaction other then a brief glance from the young man seated at the table and a quiet irrashaimase (welcome to my shop) from the now visible storekeeper, an older gentleman sporting a head of grey hair but still moving with a spring in his step.
The left side of the shop looked like a medieval armory with swords stacked high, almost to the ceiling, snug in solid wooden racks. To the right there was a small section of blades without handles being displayed, glistening with oil used to preserve the weapons when not in use. Further to the back was shelf after shelf stuffed with books on the history, making, and use of swords. From a small door in the rear which led into another section of the building a calm breeze brought with it the sounds of people conducting a relaxed afternoon training session.
As we shuffled through the shop going ‘wow’ the only thing that broke the still was the quiet conversation between shopkeeper and customer discussing the loan arrangements necessary to purchase hand crafted sword. You see, a real katana will start somewhere in the neighborhood of $3000 and go up quiet quickly from there. If you are just starting out in a sword based martial art you can get an aluminum bladed practice sword a lot cheaper, but you are still looking at a starting cost of $300 for something good. I must mention that none of the completed swords in the shop carried a price tag and I was a bit scared to ask. Unfortunately the shopkeeper was busy so we left the place with many questions unanswered but with definite plans for coming back.
Living in Japan brings with it a steady stream of the unknown and seemingly impenetrable. The places, the people, the ideas all flow by us non-stop and we often let it pass us by. How many experiences have I missed out on, how many friends have I not made, how much have I not learned because I was put off by that invisible barrier and didn’t want to put the effort in to take the first step. I’m not saying that taking that first step is easy, as it was honestly quite difficult to walk into that store, but after that first step I took another and another and soon I was able to admire beautiful hand-crafted swords that can’t be found on the everyday avenues of Japan.
Next time try taking that first step rather then walking past.
