by Manai, Yamen
“They’re disguised as manga characters. They identify with them. It’s a massive phenomenon in Japan,” noted Shinji about these fantastical looks.
At Ueno Park, after coming across a few sumo wrestlers, their staggering corpulence contained by immaculate kimonos, triggering hysteria and veneration in their wake, they stumbled upon a troop of fake Elvises, who were improvising rock ’n’ roll dances around vintage speakers.
All these men and women looked different, and yet their expressions were very familiar. Courteous and united by respect for the rules of the community.
Tahar noted his astonishment in his journal.
Over the past two days I’ve seen large men line up behind small men to enter the metro and trains that are always on time. I’ve seen pedestrians stopping at red lights even at midnight when there’s not a single car around. I’ve seen streets and parks so clean they sparkle. Not a piece of paper or cigarette butt on the ground. In the temples and Zen gardens, they take care of everything down to the fallen petals, which are gathered in small piles beneath the flowers.
His palate acclimated, Tahar enthusiastically dug into his nightly ramen.
“How did you reach this degree of civility, Mrs. Saiko?”
She responded slowly, giving her husband time to translate: “Like our bees that have to coexist with the giant hornets, we are a people who must coexist with the flaws in the earth—earthquakes, tsunamis, volcanic eruptions—and with war, the flaw of human nature. We know that our archipelago is fragile, that our existence is fragile, and that the survivors must always rebuild. We are a people well versed in catastrophes, Professor. The ‘other’ is none other than ourselves, a survivor and a partner.
“However,” she continued, “you shouldn’t idealize Japanese society either. It’s secretive and hides many peculiarities that are difficult for foreigners to grasp.”
Jannet didn’t dare tell them about her mishap that day. As they were strolling through Shibuya, she’d seen a window displaying schoolgirl uniforms. She naively entered the store, to her immediate regret. There were definitely schoolgirl uniforms, but also nurse uniforms, stewardess uniforms . . . Blow-up dolls and sex toys, from the highly suggestive to the crudest, filled the aisles of this multistory boutique. She ran out, reciting a few prayers, wondering how such seemingly timid people could frequent such places.
29
High up in the Tokyo Skytree, Tahar was dumbstruck. Walled in entirely by glass, this floor offered a grandiose panorama of the entire Japanese capital.
Standing at the base of the tallest freestanding tower in the world, Jannet had already felt dizzy. When she tried to make out the very top, she almost fell backward. The LEDs grafted to the neofuturistic structure emitted an elegant blue glow that enhanced its slender metallic skeleton.
The elevators that went up to the Tembo Deck, a 360-degree observation platform, took less than one minute to transport visitors, and Tahar had to be especially persuasive to convince his wife to go up with him.
“Can you imagine if the elevator falls and I die alone?”
But the elevator was a cocoon, and despite the lightning ascent, they didn’t feel a single jolt. Vertigo gave way to amazement.
They found themselves on the 350th floor, over one thousand feet above the ground. It was after ten p.m., and as they watched, Tokyo unveiled its architectural prowess and imperial ways. Multicolored nocturnal lights created a halo over the metropolis that stretched beyond the horizon. Skyscrapers punctuated the landscape like columns of light. The colossal city structure extended as far as the eye could see, straddling the inlets of Tokyo Bay and shooting out in every direction its precise and spacious tentacles—roads, railway tracks, and bridges on which trains and cars were weaving like toys decorated with tinsel. As they admired the view, they listened to Shinji’s voice untangling the urban expanse for them.
“In front, that’s Yokohama City. Farther off, that’s Odaiba Island. Mount Fuji is to the west. It’s not visible at night. Nikkō is two hours away in that direction.”
“That’s where the queen breeder is?”
“That’s right,” said Shinji, nodding. “That’s where we’re going tomorrow.”
“Inshallah,” added Jannet to herself.
The village of Nikkō hadn’t been abandoned, like Nawa and the other villages back home. On the contrary, it was a crown jewel proud of its temples, which included Tōshō-gū, home to the three “hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil” monkeys of wisdom and the sleeping cat, symbol of kindness toward the weak, as well as Rinnō-ji and its famous golden Buddhas who incarnate the sacred mountains of Nikkō.
Shinji parked the car near the train station, and the group continued on foot through small, peaceful streets studded by small houses with manicured lawns. They took a path that led to the bee farm.
Shinji walked in front, and his two guests followed hand in hand. They hadn’t been hiking in years. But behind Shinji, mesmerized by the dazzling landscape, Jannet had forgotten all about her arthritis and Tahar his back pain. It was the height of spring and everywhere cherry trees were blossoming, shining with green and ruby. After passing beneath the torii, the gates separating the sacred from the worldly, they walked beside a crystalline river that originated in the high, mountainous peaks. Reinvigorated by the snow thaw, it was guarded by meditating stone Buddhas all along its course. Tahar, who’d been robbed on three occasions, noticed the small piles of money placed by supplicants below the statues, which waited, without fear, to be collected by the monks.
Nature was playing them a harmonious score of falling water, birdsong, and crackling branches, and as they went deeper, they heard bees buzzing, joining the soothing concert. Soon, they saw them at work, skipping from flower to flower. The closer they got, the more bees abounded. Small golden orbs beating their wings and gleaming beneath the sun. The trio had reached their destination. Buildings emerged from the valleys in front of them; the bee farm looked like a temple.
“There it is,” shouted Shinji, pointing.
“We’re here!” cheered Jannet.
A few more steps and they found themselves at the entrance to the farmstead, welcomed by its owner, Kisuke Ukitake, in a white kimono and wooden sandals. His face was a study in kindness and restraint but it also revealed his emotion at seeing suitors for his girls come from so far. Hands joined beneath his chin, this man of indeterminable age made a long bow. They returned the greeting.
“Welcome to my humble farm.”
“It’s a joy and an honor for us.”
“If you’ll follow me, please.”
Kisuke Ukitake took them on a tour of the apicultural domain, telling them its history as they walked. Though sprawling, with thousands of colonies, the property, established by his ancestors in the seventeenth century, remained a family business. Today, he was the director and guardian of tradition. He would transmit his knowledge to his grandchildren and teach them, before he died, the art of maintaining life.
The trees were dotted with hives, and the bees, God’s beauties, were working at great haste on this spring day. Observing the beekeeper walk, talk in a melodious voice, and caress his girls, Jannet couldn’t help but think of Sidi. The resemblance was striking. They had the same silhouette, the same gestures, and the same love in their voices.
Like brothers from a single, unique mother, she mused—Mother Nature.
At the end of the tour, Kisuke Ukitake brought them inside and served them matcha. The queens were ready, placed individually in aerated Plexiglas cages the size of pocket dictionaries, accompanied by their bodyguards, who would feed them with the honey stored in their bellies. Tahar and Jannet stared in fascination at the Apis japonica, black as coal, pacing in their boxes, driven by their desire to join a hive. Soon they would cross oceans to bring the knowledge coded in their genes.
Shinji spoke first. “When I explained the reasons for your journey to Ukitake-sama, he refused payment.”
“I can’t accept
money,” said the beekeeper. “This is a gift. Offer these queens to the man who seeks them. In his eyes, they have no price. These are good empresses. Don’t wait long before putting them to work.”
That night, as he was packing, Tahar was only able to squeeze in nineteen of the twenty boxes. One queen wouldn’t fit in his luggage.
“Give her to me,” suggested Jannet. “Hello, my dear,” she said. “You and I are going to be traveling together!”
And she carefully placed the queen in her bag.
30
“So, Professor, what do you think of Japan?”
“I learned more about myself here than I did about Japan,” answered Tahar.
In the plane, he squeezed Jannet’s hand. “Thank you for this wonderful trip.”
“You see . . . you were right to come.”
After twenty hours in the air and one layover, they landed beneath a familiar blue sky. The plane hadn’t reached its berth yet but the passengers were already standing up with their luggage, elbowing their way through the narrow aisles to exit the aircraft first.
“We’re definitely home,” laughed Tahar.
At border control, there weren’t enough agents to handle the multiheaded queues, and a few altercations broke out sporadically between shameless line cutters and those they offended. Finally, it was Tahar and Jannet’s turn. The agent examined their passports, gave them a hard look, then consulted a list. He addressed Tahar: “Are you the Tahar M. that’s the dean of the College of Arts and Sciences?”
“Yes.”
“You’re his wife?”
“Yes.”
He stamped Jannet’s passport and returned it to her, then grabbed his telephone handset and made a short call. Once two men had joined him at his station, he stated: “Ma’am, move forward, please. Sir, the public prosecutor has issued a warrant for you. You’re under arrest.”
The couple exchanged an incredulous look.
“What’s going on? What am I being accused of?” asked Tahar, in shock.
“Calm down!” ordered an agent.
“Follow us. We’ll explain,” said the other.
“I’m not leaving without my husband!” protested Jannet.
Tahar knew that the police still had a quick hand. The revolution hadn’t revolutionized backward mentalities. He tried to reassure his wife, whispering in her ear, “Don’t worry. Go home and call a lawyer!”
Then he turned back to the wolves. “Let’s go, gentlemen.”
He disappeared into the airport’s labyrinth escorted by men in uniform.
Tahar left the airport like a repeat offender: passport, cell phone, and suitcase confiscated. He was immediately placed in a small van with a siren and brought before the public prosecutor.
The man across from him was in his thirties, sporting a trimmed beard and a black suit and tie. He was holding the dean’s passport and looked very serious. Tahar noted that there were no windows in the office and that his luggage was set on a table, surrounded by three officers.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
“I don’t.”
“Really? That’s what you’re claiming? Well, then allow me to refresh your memory.”
Fists glued to the table, the public prosecutor was tapping his index fingers frenetically, like a hornet clicking his jaws.
“Two weeks ago, you assaulted two of your female students and pushed them down the stairs at the university. Two students who came to you to voice a collective desire regarding how the institution functions.”
Tahar’s eyes opened wide. “That’s an untruthful claim. I never did what you’re accusing me of!”
The police officers standing around his things glared at him.
“Well, let’s see!” continued the inquisitor. “I have right here a medical certificate that attests to their injuries and grants them a twenty-day leave from classes due to their total incapacity to work. Do you think they got those bruises and fractures all by themselves in their sleep?”
“Of course not. They were perfectly conscious when they threw themselves down the stairs as they left my office. They didn’t need to be pushed!”
“So you admit you received them in your office!”
“I’m not denying that!”
“And you don’t deny that you refused to grant their requests?” the prosecutor continued.
“And how was I supposed to grant their requests? We can’t separate genders and stop classes during prayer time! It’s impossible!”
“Why is that, Professor? Why exactly is it impossible? Are such demands really so unfounded? Mightn’t you be an ilmani?”
Everyone looked at Tahar. What the prosecutor said was true. If he was a man of science, was he not then hostile to religion?
“That’s not the reason for my arrest. I’m not here to discuss the university charter with you. And your accusations are grotesque!”
“You underestimate our case, Professor. I have here damning eyewitness accounts against you.”
“Eyewitnesses? The only witness at the scene was my vice-dean.”
“Your vice-dean is also under arrest for assault and battery. He’s been in temporary custody for three days. And there were in fact other witnesses at the scene. Students, who saw everything! All their statements are included in the case file,” he said, waving a folder in the air.
“What? Three days? Other witnesses? Have you lost your mind?”
“Careful what you say, Professor. The charges leveled against you are serious,” warned the prosecutor firmly. “What were you doing in Japan? Perhaps you were trying to forget what happened?”
“Forget? After one week? Really? You can’t be serious!”
“Spare me your commentaries and answer! What were you doing in Japan?”
“It’s a private matter.”
“You no longer have any privacy. Unpack his things,” he ordered.
The three police officers, immobile until then, opened the suitcase. They removed clothes, books, and, one by one, the nineteen royal vessels.
“What are those?” said the prosecutor in shock when he saw the insects in their mini cages.
“Those are bees,” answered Tahar.
“So you are unaware, Professor, that the introduction of undeclared living species is strictly forbidden and subject to punishment?”
“With the exception of bees, leeches, and silkworms,” corrected Tahar. “And these insects are bees.”
“Bees, you say? Hmm, I see flies. Officers, what do you see?”
“Flies!”
“They’re bees! I have the documents to prove it.” Tahar hurriedly reached into his jacket and removed papers stamped by Kisuke, written in Japanese and English, and unfolded them before his accuser.
The prosecutor grabbed one, skimmed it, then immediately passed it back.
“The thing is, we don’t have any translators, so your papers are of no use at all. And we can’t take the risk of allowing you to liberate these flies into nature. Only God knows what kind of plague they could spread. Is that it? Your plan for the country, ilmani? Unleash the plague? Officers, destroy these flies!”
Tahar tried to block them with his body but he was immediately, and professionally, pummeled with batons. While two of the officers restrained him by the shoulders, the third lined up the nineteen carriers on the floor. Then he raised his foot nineteen times and crushed them one by one with a grime-covered boot. The delicate bodies yielded under the large sole.
“Stop! Stop! Those bees are our future!”
After the nineteenth slaughter, his jailers released his shoulders and he fell to his knees in front of the tiny cages and the flattened corpses of the dead queens.
“Bastards! You bastards!” cried Tahar in tears, aching in both body and soul.
“Insult to acting officers of the law. We’ll add that to the list of your offenses,” gloated the prosecutor. Then he leaned over Tahar, and scratched his beard with a learned air: “Ilmani, you truly are a man withou
t faith. Our future isn’t in your luggage. Our future is in the hands of God!”
In front of the Ministry of the Interior, Jannet and her children were losing patience. Tahar had been held there since the night before, and they’d had no news. They didn’t even know what he was being accused of, and only his lawyer, a friend of the family, had obtained the right to visit him.
“How is he?”
Having been lectured by Tahar, Mr. Ferjeni was careful not to mention his bruises to Jannet.
“He’s fine, don’t worry. We’ll get him out of here by tomorrow.”
“But what are they accusing him of?”
“Assaulting students.”
“Assaulting students? That’s ridiculous!”
“Of course it’s ridiculous! Everyone knows that. I can promise you that he’ll be free tomorrow morning, after the detention period is up. But Jannet, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
The lawyer seemed nonplussed. He was afraid that his friend was a bit unhinged after his beating and had given him an incoherent message to deliver. He continued, “Tahar wants you to know that they murdered the queens and that you have to deliver the last hope to Nawa. Umm . . . what does that mean?”
THE AFTERMATH
Sidi’s Song
Here below, I continue to walk and to read
In the ruins I search where your footprints lead
So clear and distinct once the chaos recedes
I wield the darkness, and you the light
You are my haven as I continue this fight
31
Sidi stood still before the mountain.
Decades earlier, it had been a nature reserve, its flora and fauna cataloged and protected, its hiking trails marked and maintained. Today, the mountain was abandoned, and only an expert or fugitive would dare venture within.
The giant hornets were there, lying in wait in the brush, and he had no choice but to find their nests and neutralize them before a new attack came.