How is high school graduation like childbirth? Once in the actual moment, all careful preparation falls by the wayside. Three dear, generous tomodachis (friends) converged from points around Tokyo at Motomachi Chukagai eki (Chinatown station) to help parents applaud as musume-chan accepted her YIS (Yokohama International School) diploma on a Thursday evening. With a 7 PM ceremony two joined our family for an early bird supper; the third opted to meet at the school. Only the Trattoria at Barney's Yokohama was open for business at that unsophisticated hour, which turned out to be perfect. (Barney's is a popular label among Tokyoites.) The graduand (as seniors are called at YIS) changed into her evening clothes in the loo.
Yokohama, where the Queen Mary docks, boasts an ocean breeze no matter how high the temperature climbs. Sadly, the breeze was not invited to the ceremony: Looking crisp upon entry into the gymnasium, parents in kimono and serious finery soon wilted with just a Kyoto-standard issue fan blowing down in the enormous space. Soon guests unfolded hand fans, and before long programs turned into impromptu fans. The heat took its toll on our camera, which meant relying on generous tomodachis to record the event. After the student orchestra scratched out a prelude, school administrators expressed gratitude for all their colleagues-- except each other. Headmaster, in his final address before a transfer to Munich, described the circuitous path of his career from failed med student to school administrator; parents understood. By contrast student speeches were witty, irreverent and suitably sarcastic. Remarks in English from the guest of honor, the Governor of Kanagawa, were pithy and pertinent to the host country.
After 90 minutes the red-robed graduands strode to the stage for the handshake and leather bound diploma in two languages. High School Principal introduced each by name with a sentence about future plans, covering an enormous gamut ("Interpol agent," "science teacher," "pharmacist," "stock broker," "ski instructor," "model," "artist," many "don't yet know"). Musume expressed the desire to perfect her nihongo in order to become an interpreter and translator. After another musical interlude, hats thrown high, 59 international students embraced each other in a sweaty group hug and little ladies with trays served bottles of mineral water and Coke. A final nonalcoholic toast with everyone raising a glass of Appletizer, and finally in their status as graduates the whole gang took off into the cool wilds of Shibuya not to be seen again until long after sunrise.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Rainy Season (tsuyu)
Full attendance of five ladies in gray tones around the table for English Conversation on the Wednesday that marked the start of rainy season. Composer-san, 15 minutes late as usual, has been in the kitchen since 5 AM stirring vegetable soup and preparing obento (lunch boxes) for her grown daughters and husband-- isogashii (busy). Two ladies slipped out of raincoats (one black, one white). With musume (daughter) about to graduate from high school, I circulated a prom photo. How grown up Western girls of 18 with lipstick appear! Thanks to Hollywood, our group has witnessed proms on the silver screen. Nihon no onna no ko (girls, literally : little women) are mere babies! Musume has an enviable alabaster complexion, they noted. (Drugstore shelves are laden with skin whitening products.) Like Princess Masako, I revealed, I needed medical intervention to have a baby; I pulled out the book I wrote 10 years back that describes my adventures in fertility treatment.
"What is the English word that describes how you must feel now?" asked obaasan (grandma) of five. "Grateful" was the best my limited vocabulary could muster; nihongo offered a richer variety of adjectives (kangai, bugai) for feelings of joy, pain and reaching a goal after much hard work. Current events provided two hot topics: the premiere of Sex and the City 2, and the appointment of a new prime minister. Since Composer-san's family is busy making music, they have no time for television; in fact, she does not own a TV so just smiles broadly as she often does. Who is Sarah Jessica Parker? she wondered. Obaasan objected to the nudity, Chef-san looked forward to the fashions and Traveler-san chuckled at the prospect of light comedy. Driver-san was most informed on the actresses, perhaps since her daughter now lives in New York. All voted Kim Cattrall the most attractive of the bunch.
As for the government shake-up, the group had high hopes for the new leader, Naoto Kan. "Our last prime minister and many of his cabinet members come from rich backgrounds," said Chef-san, leading to a discussion of the idiom "born with a silver spoon." Humorously, Kan's unofficial slogan is "Yes we Kan." Obaasan elaborated: "Mr Kan comes from a regular family and his wife is very intelligent. We call her the Japanese Hillary. Every night she debates with her husband and he usually loses." Then why isn't Mrs Kan prime minister? I carefully posed. Obaasan replied," It is not in our culture." In the US we tell girls they can grow up to run for president, why not here? "Our lifestyle will change," was the consensus of these accomplished, well-traveled women. What of the Sex and The City roles? "Yes, we have more career women in Japan now but...it is a slow process." Yet how quickly the past 18 years have flown! At sundown tomorrow parents of 50-odd students will attend Yokohama International School graduation ceremony.
"What is the English word that describes how you must feel now?" asked obaasan (grandma) of five. "Grateful" was the best my limited vocabulary could muster; nihongo offered a richer variety of adjectives (kangai, bugai) for feelings of joy, pain and reaching a goal after much hard work. Current events provided two hot topics: the premiere of Sex and the City 2, and the appointment of a new prime minister. Since Composer-san's family is busy making music, they have no time for television; in fact, she does not own a TV so just smiles broadly as she often does. Who is Sarah Jessica Parker? she wondered. Obaasan objected to the nudity, Chef-san looked forward to the fashions and Traveler-san chuckled at the prospect of light comedy. Driver-san was most informed on the actresses, perhaps since her daughter now lives in New York. All voted Kim Cattrall the most attractive of the bunch.
As for the government shake-up, the group had high hopes for the new leader, Naoto Kan. "Our last prime minister and many of his cabinet members come from rich backgrounds," said Chef-san, leading to a discussion of the idiom "born with a silver spoon." Humorously, Kan's unofficial slogan is "Yes we Kan." Obaasan elaborated: "Mr Kan comes from a regular family and his wife is very intelligent. We call her the Japanese Hillary. Every night she debates with her husband and he usually loses." Then why isn't Mrs Kan prime minister? I carefully posed. Obaasan replied," It is not in our culture." In the US we tell girls they can grow up to run for president, why not here? "Our lifestyle will change," was the consensus of these accomplished, well-traveled women. What of the Sex and The City roles? "Yes, we have more career women in Japan now but...it is a slow process." Yet how quickly the past 18 years have flown! At sundown tomorrow parents of 50-odd students will attend Yokohama International School graduation ceremony.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
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.
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.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Count Kabayama's Granddaughter
Funny thing about living abroad is that names don't ring a bell to the foreign ear. For example, to a New Yorker "Rockefeller" rings a bell (former governor Nelson, his missus Happy, Japan Society, etc). Serving on the board of a Tokyo ladies club founded in 1949 at the suggestion of Count Kabayama, the tip-off is the fellow board member who identifies herself as the Count's granddaughter. Despite her lineage she is homesick for Manhattan. "It was heaven to live there," she confided in the type of gravelly voice that betrays a former smoker. "In Japan wives are never included in business dinners but in New York it was just the opposite! What fun we had socializing with American colleagues. And what fun I had filling the closet with bargains from Woodbury Common. I do remember thinking once: Not another dinner at Le Cirque! How spoiled I was."
When the count's granddaughter extended an invitation for tea in Hiro-o at Paper Moon, with another shop on East 77th Street, the only answer is: Hai. (Many NY eateries have Tokyo outposts, enabling the former Manhattanite to satisfy her appetite for the Big Apple.) Portions and prices are American style. Although our gracious hostess gained two stubborn kilos this year, she suspended her diet for one afternoon of reminiscing about her family. The owners of the patisserie greeted her warmly, exchanging a few words about the sudden resignation of prime minister Hatoyama this week as well as his righthand man Ozawa. The count's granddaughter lamented today's lack of statesmen such as her grandfather. "Our leaders need to be decisive," she said, like a true New Yorker.
Bites of cake alternated with bitesize tales of how John D. Rockefeller and Mr. Kabayama (as he became after 1945) co-founded International House in 1951, an active cultural center just a stone's throw from the Manor. Typical of Meiji era well-to-do nihonjin, all the Kabayamas studied in the US so it came as no surprise when in 1929 his younger daughter, Masako, made a love match with a Cambridge graduate by the name of Jiro Shirasu."My father moved us to the seaside resort of Oiso after the war, since Tokyo was completely burned to the ground," recounted the Count's granddaughter. "I was playing in the garden one day when a jeep pulled up and out stepped General MacArthur. He was the first American I ever met." Nihonjin know of Mr. Shirasu as the man who dared to talk back to MacArthur; at Cambridge he became an expert debater, which served him well with the Supreme Commander for Allied Powers (SCAP). Digesting the story and the rich cake, the afternoon closed with a promise to meet for a second slice of Mille Crepe at Paper Moon on E 77th Street.
When the count's granddaughter extended an invitation for tea in Hiro-o at Paper Moon, with another shop on East 77th Street, the only answer is: Hai. (Many NY eateries have Tokyo outposts, enabling the former Manhattanite to satisfy her appetite for the Big Apple.) Portions and prices are American style. Although our gracious hostess gained two stubborn kilos this year, she suspended her diet for one afternoon of reminiscing about her family. The owners of the patisserie greeted her warmly, exchanging a few words about the sudden resignation of prime minister Hatoyama this week as well as his righthand man Ozawa. The count's granddaughter lamented today's lack of statesmen such as her grandfather. "Our leaders need to be decisive," she said, like a true New Yorker.
Bites of cake alternated with bitesize tales of how John D. Rockefeller and Mr. Kabayama (as he became after 1945) co-founded International House in 1951, an active cultural center just a stone's throw from the Manor. Typical of Meiji era well-to-do nihonjin, all the Kabayamas studied in the US so it came as no surprise when in 1929 his younger daughter, Masako, made a love match with a Cambridge graduate by the name of Jiro Shirasu."My father moved us to the seaside resort of Oiso after the war, since Tokyo was completely burned to the ground," recounted the Count's granddaughter. "I was playing in the garden one day when a jeep pulled up and out stepped General MacArthur. He was the first American I ever met." Nihonjin know of Mr. Shirasu as the man who dared to talk back to MacArthur; at Cambridge he became an expert debater, which served him well with the Supreme Commander for Allied Powers (SCAP). Digesting the story and the rich cake, the afternoon closed with a promise to meet for a second slice of Mille Crepe at Paper Moon on E 77th Street.
The Gotoh Museum in Setagaya
"Would you like to visit the Gotoh Museum?" invited tomodachi san, referring to the family-owned gallery in the southwest corner of Tokyo known as Setagaya ku. "There is a calligraphy exhibit and afterwards we can stroll through the garden." Hai, the automatic answer to every question, meant a thirty minute ride via two trains to Kaminoge eki on a summery morning. Tomodachi san brought two parasols since Tokyoites never allow the sun to touch their skin. A short walk through tree lined roads led to the Gotoh, formerly the private home of a railroad magnate. In another part of town visitors flock to the Nezu Museum, once home to another railroad family. With train lines privately owned in Japan, railroad families collect items that the government deems National Treasures and Cultural Properties that train travelers may enjoy for a price not much more than a train ticket.
Shodo (the way of writing), the ancient art imported from China, has no Western equivalent. Poems on exhibit currently at the Gotoh date from the Heian era (ninth and tenth centuries); mounted on patterned textiles they hang vertically like window shades. Impressive that the paper and legible, vivid ink are a thousand years old. As tomodachi san translated, our voices lifted a notch triggering the security guard to request that we keep down the volume. Outside in the garden, visitors are free to speak at any decibel. On a slope, Japanese stone lanterns of different designs lead downwards; my favorite was the "snow viewing lantern." Beyond the hill lies the Tama River, dividing Tokyo from Kanagawa, the neighboring prefecture of which Yokohama is the capital.
En route to tomodachi's home for a spot of lunch we passed the last remaining farm and even a vineyard; both used by NHK television crews when seeking local color. In her large garden tomodachi has many fruit trees including the native biwa (loquat), in full bloom now. "Here, try one," she offered, peeling it. Resembling an apricot, it is a closer relation to the apple. Lunch included many tasty treats from the garden; as we ate in the formal dining room, her ancient mother-in-law busied herself outside with weeding. The meal ended with the presentation of a furoshiki (cloth) wrapped box: a calligraphy brush from Tokei-ji, the temple of the family and a refuge for battered women since 1285. Ichi go, ichi e (one time one meeting) she wrote on the card, the slogan of tea ceremony. Our singular chance to spend an afternoon together properly savored, only five days remain until the Class of 2010 say farewell to Yokohama International School.
Shodo (the way of writing), the ancient art imported from China, has no Western equivalent. Poems on exhibit currently at the Gotoh date from the Heian era (ninth and tenth centuries); mounted on patterned textiles they hang vertically like window shades. Impressive that the paper and legible, vivid ink are a thousand years old. As tomodachi san translated, our voices lifted a notch triggering the security guard to request that we keep down the volume. Outside in the garden, visitors are free to speak at any decibel. On a slope, Japanese stone lanterns of different designs lead downwards; my favorite was the "snow viewing lantern." Beyond the hill lies the Tama River, dividing Tokyo from Kanagawa, the neighboring prefecture of which Yokohama is the capital.
En route to tomodachi's home for a spot of lunch we passed the last remaining farm and even a vineyard; both used by NHK television crews when seeking local color. In her large garden tomodachi has many fruit trees including the native biwa (loquat), in full bloom now. "Here, try one," she offered, peeling it. Resembling an apricot, it is a closer relation to the apple. Lunch included many tasty treats from the garden; as we ate in the formal dining room, her ancient mother-in-law busied herself outside with weeding. The meal ended with the presentation of a furoshiki (cloth) wrapped box: a calligraphy brush from Tokei-ji, the temple of the family and a refuge for battered women since 1285. Ichi go, ichi e (one time one meeting) she wrote on the card, the slogan of tea ceremony. Our singular chance to spend an afternoon together properly savored, only five days remain until the Class of 2010 say farewell to Yokohama International School.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Getting Naked Together
Hot topics at English conversation this week: Minutes earlier Mr. Hatoyama stepped down and reports came out that the Gores untied the knot after four decades. Eleven on the dot on a Wednesday at the Manor transported three sophisticated ladies out of shoes and into self-assigned seats around the table. Composer-san arrived typically 15 minutes late, while family illness kept driver-san away. "We are so embarrassed about our lack of leadership," said obaasan (granny) of five, echoing local newscasters. Hatoyama-san's bow exceeded the minimum 15 degree angle, which reflected the gravity of his apology. Promising to move the US base off Okinawa torpedoed his term after a mere 10 months; the skirmish between the Koreas underlined possible consequences. A samurai would have faced seppuku (self disembowelment), while Hatoyama may be faced with a life term in academia. As heir to the Bridgestone Tire fortune, can he understand the average nihonjin?
Al and Tipper led to the question of the Clinton marriage. "How could President Clinton remain in office after such public embarrassment?" posed chef-san. "I could not forgive my husband." Faced with evidence of adultery, they agreed that a prime minister would step down without an argument. The issue is the shame, not the cheating: Japanese couples often remain under the same roof for financial reasons, while leading separate lives (divorce rate is a mere 3%). Without revisiting that unhappy chapter of American history discussion moved on to the verb "to flirt," which did not translate directly. The performer Tamaki Koji , a well-known womanizer, is considered to have a psychological problem, since playful banter with the opposite sex is not part of the local culture.
Thanks to Mr. Milne, this week's installment of Pooh-san included the adverb "modestly." How surprising for Westerners to find that nude public bathing is widely practiced in the form of onsen (hot springs). People of all ages --even musume-chan (daughter)!--indulge in group nudity for the pleasure of sitting in ofuka with strangers of the same sex. After showering and washing off, with only a washcloth as protection, the onsen goer hops into the mineral water. Yakuza (gangsters) not welcome, which means no one with tattoos. How often do the ladies at the table visit onsen? "Never!" said obaasan, who is so thin that she fears critical eyes. Chef-san and husband head out of town to the outdoor onsen, where she admitted to holding the washcloth modestly in front. Composer-san and Traveler-san admitted to a healthy devil-may-care attitude about stripping down and enjoying the company of naked friends in the pool. Not much time for soaking in onsen before the graduation ceremony at YIS on the 10th.
Al and Tipper led to the question of the Clinton marriage. "How could President Clinton remain in office after such public embarrassment?" posed chef-san. "I could not forgive my husband." Faced with evidence of adultery, they agreed that a prime minister would step down without an argument. The issue is the shame, not the cheating: Japanese couples often remain under the same roof for financial reasons, while leading separate lives (divorce rate is a mere 3%). Without revisiting that unhappy chapter of American history discussion moved on to the verb "to flirt," which did not translate directly. The performer Tamaki Koji , a well-known womanizer, is considered to have a psychological problem, since playful banter with the opposite sex is not part of the local culture.
Thanks to Mr. Milne, this week's installment of Pooh-san included the adverb "modestly." How surprising for Westerners to find that nude public bathing is widely practiced in the form of onsen (hot springs). People of all ages --even musume-chan (daughter)!--indulge in group nudity for the pleasure of sitting in ofuka with strangers of the same sex. After showering and washing off, with only a washcloth as protection, the onsen goer hops into the mineral water. Yakuza (gangsters) not welcome, which means no one with tattoos. How often do the ladies at the table visit onsen? "Never!" said obaasan, who is so thin that she fears critical eyes. Chef-san and husband head out of town to the outdoor onsen, where she admitted to holding the washcloth modestly in front. Composer-san and Traveler-san admitted to a healthy devil-may-care attitude about stripping down and enjoying the company of naked friends in the pool. Not much time for soaking in onsen before the graduation ceremony at YIS on the 10th.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Seven Lucky Gods
Born Shinto, die Buddhist, is the conventional pattern in Japan. In between seek guidance from the Shichi Fukujin (Seven Lucky Gods), which includes one goddess: Benten-sama. She's got a lot on her plate as the protector deity of knowledge and the flow of creativity, specifically words and music. With temples and shrines dotting the town, Tokyoites in search of spiritual guidance are well covered. Unlike Western places of worship, paying respects Japanese style takes place out in the open. Up the hill from the Manor the small temple provides what appears like a small booth with statues and flowers. The worshipper pulls the bell rope to alert the deities to a human request, bows twice, claps twice, prays and takes a final bow. Tossing a coin into the money box is the polite thing to do.
For supplicants with specific needs there are issue appropriate temples. Writers and musicians, for example, would do well to head to Tokyo Tower. In its shadow sits Benten-sama's temple, Shoren-ja. Created for a Tokugawa princess of the Kanei era (1600s) on the first and seventeenth of each month all are invited in to stimulate the flow of creativity. Stepping gingerly on the stone path, the altar to Benten-sama is flush to the end of a thirty foot long tunnel carved into a hillside. Candles light the curved path, which requires a flashlight for proper navigation. (During wartime Benten-sama's tunnel was a safe haven.) For best results leave an offering on the altar next to the melon and melon sized onion; a pound cake and a tin of loose tea made a nice balance.
Although the temple is a stone's throw from Kamiyacho (site of the 1995 sarin gas attack) even the nihonjin in a group from the academically oriented women's group were astonished by this secret treasure. What good fortune that after some prodding, the California-born daughter-in-law of the resident priest generously invited our crowd. Ushered into the small temple building, we stepped out of our shoes and squatted on the tatami mat. Ottosan (father-in-law) made a few opening remarks, including the fact that he never anticipated his son would marry an American. After sharing many ancient relics, all the visitors did our best to bow properly upon our exit. Out on the street it was business as usual as the Number 97 headed to Shibuya and the month of June barrel s along to graduation day at Yokohama International School.
For supplicants with specific needs there are issue appropriate temples. Writers and musicians, for example, would do well to head to Tokyo Tower. In its shadow sits Benten-sama's temple, Shoren-ja. Created for a Tokugawa princess of the Kanei era (1600s) on the first and seventeenth of each month all are invited in to stimulate the flow of creativity. Stepping gingerly on the stone path, the altar to Benten-sama is flush to the end of a thirty foot long tunnel carved into a hillside. Candles light the curved path, which requires a flashlight for proper navigation. (During wartime Benten-sama's tunnel was a safe haven.) For best results leave an offering on the altar next to the melon and melon sized onion; a pound cake and a tin of loose tea made a nice balance.
Although the temple is a stone's throw from Kamiyacho (site of the 1995 sarin gas attack) even the nihonjin in a group from the academically oriented women's group were astonished by this secret treasure. What good fortune that after some prodding, the California-born daughter-in-law of the resident priest generously invited our crowd. Ushered into the small temple building, we stepped out of our shoes and squatted on the tatami mat. Ottosan (father-in-law) made a few opening remarks, including the fact that he never anticipated his son would marry an American. After sharing many ancient relics, all the visitors did our best to bow properly upon our exit. Out on the street it was business as usual as the Number 97 headed to Shibuya and the month of June barrel s along to graduation day at Yokohama International School.
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