Hotel Okura

     What the Waldorf-Astoria is to a New Yorker, the Hotel Okura is for the Tokyoite: a landmark a bit past its  prime yet aging gracefully. No lobby exudes more glamor than the Okura with its circa 1960 design by Yoshiro Tanaguchi. Vis-a-vis the US Embassy by Kamiyacho eki, Secretary of State Hillary Clinton feels at home in the low building with its wide hallways. Hotel workers in kimono beckon visitors to the next elevator, bowing until the closing doors firmly meet. For decades the Okura has hosted the June program of the bi-cultural ladies social club. Last year the Empress addressed the assembly in tinkly tones to honor the 60th anniversary of the club; this year a boy band improbably called Le Velvets (not a typo) serenaded guests.

      John and George Astor, flutemaking brothers from Waldorff, Germany, later fur merchants, built the Park Avenue hostelry. Baron Okura Kihachiro (1837-1928) of Niigata prefecture, a weapons dealer and an avid collector of Oriental antiques, endowed a museum as well as the luxury hotel in Toranomon. Japan owes their car culture to his son, Kishichiro (1882-1963),  who attended Cambridge but turned to race car driving. Hai, the Okuras would have approved the pearl bedecked ladies filling the banquet hall. At the head table board members welcomed honored guests such as Mrs. Okada, wife of the Foreign Minister. When the prime minister resigned last week, Mr. Okada was briefly considered for the slot but remained in position.

     "How do you do, I'm Midori," introduced my neighbor at the head table, as she turned out a co-founder of Ikebana International and widow of "Mr. Navy," a key member of General MacArthur's team sixty years ago. Japan is too hot in summer, she confided, which is why she will soon head out to San Francisco.Sending the ladies into summer vacation in the right frame of mind, Le Velvets (not a typo) belted oldies such as Frankie Valli's "You're Just Too Good to Be True" and, more incongruously, "O Sole Mio." Coffee was my cue as VP to stand up, thank the president and, on behalf of the assembly, proffer the standard silver photo frame (monogrammed). Only 48 hours now until graduation evening at  Yokohama International School.    

  


    

Shinjuku Salvation Army

      Since nihonjin shun used goods, the secondhand market in Tokyo is a goldmine for gaijin.  A fellow amerikajin from the academic ladies club (an avid kimono collector) shared the secret of her source: The Salvation Army in Suginami-ku. Coveting the elegant kimono worn by  ladies traveling along the Namboku subway line en route to tea ceremony, ikebana lesson or wedding, was there much gold up north? One gray Saturday noon shodo tomodachi Madame G and I zoomed past Shinjuku via Yamanote (think: London's Circle Line) with transfer to the Marunouchi ("inside the circle") to dig for treasure. Exit at Nakano-Fukimicho turn left and at the Buddhist temple bear right 15 minutes past a hospital and another temple in Wada ni-chome to a small concrete building with a security guard outside. The gaijin looking at used bicycles confirm that you are there.

     Inside the small building we found a dazzling array of items in immaculate condition, both Western and nihon. A quick sweep of crockery, with plates of every shape and design, yielded a quick treasure. Next, the kimono seller worked with Mme G for half an hour to find the correct length for a Western lady plus a good match for the obi (wide sash). A friendly nihon shopper lingered with us, and advised. At last, after much discussion in broken nihongo, each of us was pleased with her purchase. On to the stall of sensu (hand fans), invented 1300 years ago in Japan for the aristocracy. When irises are in bloom everyone whips out a fan (including men) to counteract the humidity. A delicate combination of bamboo and washi, lovely L-san of Yokohama presented me with a stunning sensu so elegant in its box that I am reluctant to disturb it. Ding-ding! Closing time at 2 PM cut our hunt short. Will there be a local eatery to provide a late lunch?

    Only a block away, Mme G slid open the door of a soba (Japanese noodle) place. Absolutely empty, the hostess beckoned us in and we ordered the lunch set at Y 750 (about $9) with warm udon (wheat) rather than cold soba (buckwheat) since the day turned raw. The tray arrived with spring roll, udon, dipping sauce and small salad. The hostess told us her aunt lives in Los Angeles and that her younger brother owns the restaurant. As if expecting us, she was fully made up and camera ready. Since the shop has no business card, she gave us the take-out menu and we promised to return. Will there be time before musume-chan's high school graduation in two weeks? Time is running short.

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)

Graduation season

     "Did you notice loads of girls in kimono at Omotesando eki (subway station)?" was the topic at nihongo conversation. Since the Japanese school year ends in March, these young ladies were decked out for graduation ceremonies.  Floral and fan patterns with full-length sleeves hanging almost to the hem, an obi or Japanese sash (as crossword solvers know) with an obijime (cord) and obidomegane (clip) to hold the kimono closed. Excellent way to improve posture when properly tied. Hair is worn swept up with the occasional flower, feet enclosed in tabi (mittens for feet) inserted into zori (sandals) that create mincing steps.

     Twelve months of the year commuters spot kimono clad women riding the subways of Tokyo. "How many more seasons do I have?" sighed calligraphy sensei, who sensibly wants to get her money's worth from this pricey outfit. What occasions require formal wear? Obvious ones like weddings and funerals, followed by classes in the traditional arts such as ikebana (flower arranging) and temae (tea ceremony), which takes decades to master.

      By season and age the kimono system follows a strict code with the turning point at arou-fo (around 40):  Older kimono wearers must select muted tones. Once I took a fan dance lesson, strapped into a kimono. (Twirling and kneeling were a challenge.) For optimal shape, beneath the kimono lies an undershirt or hadagi , the underskirt or susoyoke, waist pads and bow pads. Is it all right to carry a handbag that doesn't match the zori? (Sometimes.)

      Spring is a bank holiday and a signal for the spring kimono to make its appearance. Let's see what the Kyoto natives wear as we count down to the March 29th Bob Dylan concert.