BRAKE PAD BARN

"What's that grinding noise? Must be ice." I'm thinking aloud. But the snow melted days ago. Maybe something is jammed in there. Have a look. Nothing. But in the back of my mind I know it's the brake disc. I'm just fooling myself with other theories.
So I call round to see Hiroyuki. He's the super-cool guy that works at my local petrol station. Despite understanding virtually nothing he says I feel a bond between us.
He tells me it's the brake disc. He tells me he can't fix it. "Go to a proper garage" he tells me. I ask for a recomendation. "Yellow Hat?" I suggest the big franchise in town. He shakes his head, sucking air through his teeth like only the Japanese can. He looks at me again. I tell him I want his recommendation.
I follow him into the 'office'. He makes a phone call. I understand nothing. He bows into the phone like only the Japanese do.
"Sazaki Bankin", he says, pointing east. Two kilometres from here on that road he explains. I know that road, there is no garage on it. But I agree to go and thank him. He asks when. I tell him I'll go after payday. But forgetting the Japanese word, I just say "bank, money, come, wednesday", in that order. He understands. I think he understands. I grind my way out of the petrol station.
It's now wednesday. I'm on the road. There's no garage. I go back for directions. Maps are shown and words are misunderstood. It's not a garage. It's a house. Okay, I go.
I find the place. A farm house, a barn, a greenhouse, a garden. I call to the door. A lady answers, surprised to see me. Today's a holiday she tells me. 'Should've went to Yellow Hat', I think.Now it's thursday, I've been grinding for about a week. I call back to the house/garden/greenhouse place. I meet the man. Sazaki, I presume. Working in the barn. Wearing overalls and accompanied by a young apprentice, Sazaki junior I presume. I say 'brake pad' and point. I show him the greasy scrap of paper on which Hiroyuki scribbled the problem. He waves it away. I know he tells me, 'Hiroyuki called me'. He points to the driver seat and I nod. He drives it for a minute. The apprentice jacks it up and takes both tyres off. Head shaking and tutting from the apprentice as the man just stands back sucking air through his teeth.
He explains something to me. I don't understand. i just ask how much.
'Ma-ku sensei', I hear someone screech. One of my elementary students, Yuki, comes whizzing round the corner on his unicyle. "Ma-ku" he calls again as if possibly I didn't hear him the first time, he pulls to a hault in front of me. This is his house apparently and Sazaki is his uncle.
The men get to work on the car. Sazaki points at a table inside the barn and says 'stobu' - stove, indicating that I sit where it's warm. I dander over. amazed by the heat as I get closer. This homemade contraption seems to be mostly formed from an old oil drum, I'm impressed. The table also looks to be homemade, just a big chunk of tree placed on a base. I sit down and look around. An old car radio above me, wired into some dusty old speakers it emits Norah Jones and Japanese commentary. Some rickity stairs near the wall lead to somewhere unseen.
As Sazaki junior dismantles my old brake pads, Sazaki senior arrives with some new ones, apparently from the greenhouse. He asks me do I have time. Thirty minutes he asks. I tell him sure and look at the clock. It's 4:17.
Junior gets to work and Sazaki senior chats with me. Where are you from, how's the weather there, how long have you been in Japan, etc, etc. Explaining that Ireland is a small island next to England he, like all other Japanese, concludes that it's a very cold country. "Not as cold as here" I tell him. In comes the nephew carrying a new, expensive-looking globe from the farm house. Both uncle and nephew 'ohh' and 'ahh' when I tell them it's thirteen hourse by plane.
Sazaki puts the globe on the table next to a jar of candy and some old drill bits, but little Yuki isn't deterred. He asks where I've been. I ask where he wants to go. Looking reluctant I entice him with destinations like 'Hawaii, Australia, Africa', he pauses, thinks, turns the globe upside down and with conviction points to Antarctica. "Me too", I laugh.
I exit the warm barn to watch the Sazaki's at work. Yuki distracts me with his collection of baseball bats and broken boomerang. And before I had time to see what was being done, the wheels were back on and Sazaki san is telling me 'OK'. I pay the man 11 000 yen- about fifty quid - and thank him. The clock says 4:30.