The Small World of Tokyo

    "In nihongo what is the word for 'acquaintance'?" I inquired at Beginner Conversation. As I rushed to the class in the crisp morning, I greeted someone on the street whom I met only yesterday. For English speakers a stranger does not qualify as tomodachi (friend) upon a single meeting, even if that meeting took place in the garden of the Australian Embassy as was the case.  For Tokyoites friendship begins with ni-san-kai-a-ta hito (two or three times seen person), I found out. "Perhaps you will become friends in future if you continue to see each other," said my gentle native speaker.

    Becoming a tomodachi is a process. At a Sayonara Soiree for two ex-pats, what fun to run into the tomodachi who introduced me to yaki imo (baked sweet potato). On autumn evenings little pick-up trucks pop up around Tokyo festooned with lights as the driver sings: Yaki imo. In the bed of the truck a wood oven produces luscious hot potatoes for Y 300 (about $4) and up (depending upon size). After an outing with the Wild Bird Society of Japan tomodachi and I shared one three winters ago. She had just marked her kanrecki (60th birthday) and retired from teaching English. One year later tomodachi had to call off a wedding for her younger daughter, rent a suite at the Imperial Hotel and formally apologize to the family of the jilted groom. The following year that very daughter married the man who had stopped her from making that fatal mistake.

     "I have a new granddaughter, four weeks old!" tomodachi announced, producing a photo album of a healthy akachan (baby). With a cupboard full of kimono, no worries for tomodachi that they will be put to good use. Over macha (green tea) another time she had explained basic kimono etiquette (long sleeves until marriage, bright colors until age 40, etc). "Please come and see my garden soon, " she offered a precious invitation as we drifted back into the room. Dewa mata! (Later)