When I Think Back to the PokePark, I Think of God

And no, I’m not talking about the Wii games. I mean the real, O.G. Pokemon amusement park of 2005 that lived in Nagoya, Japan—albeit very temporarily. 

It was so temporary with so little surviving information that it’s become a thing of legend, with some people questioning whether or not it actually existed. Well, my skeptical friends, consider me living proof. And I come with receipts. Behold some mementos I’ve held onto:

(Maps, passes, Edy card, journal)

(You got a card every time you went on a ride)

(I played a throw-and-knock-down-the-blocks type of game and did very, very badly. I think they felt bad for me and gave me a poster anyway.)

Here’s a photo of ten-year-old Miya and cousin (face hidden for privacy) on the Latias/Latios Sea Dragon-esque pendulum ride (objectively the best one):

And eating at a food stall across from the Lugia ride, which had ice cream that was to die for:

But back to the point of this post: God is really cool.

Of course, I wasn’t a Christian back then and didn’t know the first thing about God. But even so, when I look back, I see Him with me—delighting in His dorky, nerdy child as she had the absolute time of her childhood life partaking in an aspiring Pokemon trainer’s magical adventure. I can still remember being on the gondola ride and the star swing, feeling like I was flying while melodic music played and, towards the end of the day, gazing at the setting sun in the multi-colored sky. It was as if, somewhere deep down, I sort of understood this to be a small taste of Heaven. I’m very excited to discover what geeky things exist there.

The Rayquaza roller coaster was fun too, even if we did wait well over an hour for a 45-second ride. I went on several of the slower rides as well, mainly to get the cards. I was an edgy child and gravitated towards the more intense ones.

It was my Japanese grandmother—Obachan, as we called her—who took me along with my cousin Matt. Being there with my then-best friend added even more magic to it. Obachan didn’t understand Pokemon or my intense obsession with it (shoutout to the ‘tism), and didn’t partake in the festivities. Even so, she was so cheerful and supportive in simply watching us have fun. If my human grandmother delighted in us like that, even without understanding the hype, how much more was God delighting in us as we joyfully embraced this blessed time and privilege He gave us, fully knowing how much it meant to our tiny hearts? I’m a believer in a God who wants us to have fun in this life.

“So I recommend having fun, because there is nothing better for people in this world than to eat, drink, and enjoy life. That way they will experience some happiness along with all the hard work God gives them under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 8:15).

That trip changed me, man. I was utterly devastated when the park closed mere months later, blotting out any hope of ever returning. And frankly, I still don’t understand why they packed it up because it seemed massively successful. That part may always remain a mystery. Regardless, I’m beyond thankful that I got to experience this PokeUtopia during its short lifetime. It’s awesome how God creates and inspires things like that for us to enjoy in this world—things that aren’t necessary for survival but bring so much color and joy to our lives. 

I remember the last night, looking in the mirror and thinking to myself, “These [past two days] were the best days of my life.” It was almost like I was supposed to… give thanks to something or someone? Lift up my hands in praise? Maybe?

Little did I know.

(RIP)