Often during my travels, I find it easy to pass quietly through a larger city without much distraction, however I did find one exception in the golden city of Sakai. At a small tavern popular among the locals, I entertained the locals with stories for the evening. The tavern owner, a skinny man named Yanano, quickly offered me to stay with him free of charge for the length of my visit. My entertainment had drawn a large crowd and so his generous offer wasn’t too surprising. With the evenings to regale stories and all of daylight to explore town at my leisure, I accepted his offer.
Yanano’s family was very warm in their hospitality and grew to feel like a second family while Sakai a second home. The regulars at the tavern became my dear friends and invited me to drink with them between stories. One particular evening, I was clumsy and shattered one of the tavern’s precious cups. I offered to pay for it but Yanano merely laughed. When I asked if I might keep the pieces, he laughed even harder. Still, I resolved in the morning to find some way to mend it and when the sun rose, I set off to search for supplies.
I traveled through and around the bazaar until I discovered an unassuming alleyway filled with people, a dark place away from the main street lined with the hungry eyes of parasites. Most of the merchants wore dirty clothes and squatted over an array of miscellaneous items on a canvas mat, making it easy to pass by good of no use to me. Still, that did not silence the cacophony that followed any potential customer. I hurried my gait to escape the compact street, fearful pickpockets could easily find cover among the stalls if they weren’t the ones running them.
At the mouth of the road, the row of peddlers halted before a man in a colorful kimono and beautifully painted cart. His smile was so bright and captivating and his greeting so welcoming that I was too stunned to respond. Stepping aside, he presented the contents of his cart: Fine porcelain from China, paper lanterns from the south, a golden statue of Amaterasu, and for each came a story of its creation or procurement.
He spoke with the elegance of any great orator and while I found the stories very interesting, I realized how impractical these items would be on my travels. He persisted, offering to lower the price or have them sent directly to my residence but I declined and explained I only sought to repair a broken cup. Joyfully, he presented high quality lacquer resin along with powdered gold. The resin was just what I needed but the gold had me beyond perplexed. The sly merchant explained by mixing gold with the resin, the cup will be more beautiful than it had been before—a technique used recently by nobles—and it would be quite affordable for only a small portion of gold. It was indeed affordable and sooner than I realized, the translation was over and I was on my way carrying my wares.
After weeks of patience, the repairs were finished and as the merchant said, the simple speckled cup with veins of gold was indeed very beautiful. Satisfied, I resolved to finally move on with my travels. I bid farewell to Yanano and my friends and set off cautiously to the quiet road toward the sea. None passed me as I went until I happened upon a man wearing dirty clothes presenting a variety of miscellaneous goods atop a canvas mat. My intent was to avoid his attention but when he greeted me, I recognized his voice immediately followed by his bright smile. What had become of his cart? And he told me:
“Well friend, not but a week ago as I was closing down for the evening, a couple of men hit me over the head and ran off with my wares. Of course, the first thing I do is tell the guards but they haggled me for gold I no longer had. So instead, I did what I always do and found someone to make a deal. Sold my kimono for a set of excellent tools made of quality steel, then traded a few of those with a farmer for fresh produce—the very best you’ll find this side of the valley! What was left you see before you at an excellent price, I guarantee.”
Facing such misfortune, I was surprised by his cheery attitude and felt compelled to ask why not quit being a merchant. His answer came without hesitation:
“I believe folks should have wonderful things in their lives, whether they’re useful or beautiful. Many goods with many stories have passed through my hands and I believe my purpose is to find the right goods for the right person. Start with some tools and end up with jewels. I’ve done it before and I know I can do it again.”
I offered him charity but he refused. I offered a higher price for his goods but he declined. Unsatisfied, I considered simply buying some vegetables for his asking price when I recalled my last purchase from him. Withdrawing the mended cup from my bag, I recounted the story of its creation beginning with a merchant I met in Sakai. Surely for a very fair price, that was a story worth selling. He protested that all of his wares put together couldn’t rival it’s value but I insisted on my price. With great emotion, we made our exchange: A traveler’s cup for a single mon.
Years later, I returned to Sakai to visit Yanano’s old tavern. As I passed through the city, I noticed a large shop and was beckoned inside by a cheery man with a bright smile. He motioned to a hanging golden scroll and told its story, how it reminded him of a traveler he met and that it has displayed here in his shop waiting for the traveler’s return to claim it. At a discount, of course.
The poem on the scroll read:
Cherish every stone
For any could hold within
Hidden veins of gold.
Douglas Rysdyk 