Easter in the One Percent

Though it's been a few days since Peter Cottontail came hopping down the bunny trail (riding on the monorail?), I wanted to share a little bit about Easter in Japan before the last jelly bean is plucked from its bed of plastic grass. The clock is ticking on that one!

The Easter Bunny did indeed weave through our crooked streets to find us in this city of twelve million. This was much to the delight and tremendous relief of children who were not oblivious to the fact that Easter is not a big deal here, at least in terms of candy and bunnies and eggs and baskets. But thanks to some clever imports from Gram Pat and Aunt Eileen, beloved Easter traditions were not to be missed. Saturday was a raucous affair of egg dying prior to leaving for the Vigil Mass where Easter was a very big deal. A nearly four hour big deal which I will remember for so many reasons.

In my experience with the Catholic Church, Easter has never been a time of ceremonial skimping and I can't help but love it. I have always been especially captivated by the Vigil Mass and its mighty mood swing from start to finish. What starts as a somber candle service outside the church after sundown ends in giddy exaltation sometime before midnight, with the entire affair awash in incense. It's the same wherever you go! But there was an added bonus this year that has left a permanent stamp on my heart: Patrick and Evelyn led the singing for the first responsorial psalm. Lord, send out your spirit and renew the face of the earth. I can still hear it, and I hope I always can. What sweet little messengers!

Please forgive my use of a picture not quite in focus, but this was the vision of
Evelyn jubilantly lending her voice to the refrain of the psalm.

Gifts of the Holy Spirit perhaps?

Despite a nervous practice the day before, 

Patrick sang sweetly and earnestly at the actual Mass. 

Worried that the trains would stop running before the alleluias ceased resounding, we joyfully joined in the final applause of the Mass but then scurried for the station. Children were tucked in tight at the child-friendly hour of 12:30 a.m., only to gleefully arise mere hours later with their own alleluias at their Easter basket discoveries. Yaaawwwnnn! This made for a rather long Sunday, but a yellow princess dress went a long way in improving a certain young lady's mood - so we went with it and headed for brunch.

Evelyn definitely turned some heads in this little number.

Western hotels in downtown Tokyo know how to sand the rough edges of holidays away from home and this is not the first time we've sought their familiar hospitality. Despite the groggy fog enshrouding our little foursome, we hopped back on the train and headed back to mid-town where we enjoyed a beautiful brunch, wonderful views, and a surprise visit from the Easter Bunny. Who knew?!

Just as we were finishing brunch, the kids were corralled by the
maitre de for an Easter egg hunt in the hotel lobby. Adorable!

While it's true it may have been just another day for 99% of the people in Japan, in no way did this diminish our celebration. We count ourselves lucky to have found Easter joy in big and small ways here in Tokyo. 

Nothing says "He is Risen" like an Easter Sunday stroll through Ginza.
Evelyn and Patrick created quite a stir with this friendly group
eager to capture their picture.

Dreaming in Vermilion

Fifty minutes off the coast of Hiroshima and about a world away lies the quiet island of Miyajima. Standing sentry in its tranquil waters is a torii that has had my name on it since I shamelessly pilfered its picture at the start of Torii Gate nearly seven months ago. Secretly, I've been chasing it ever since. 

After the intensity of Hiroshima, I can imagine no better place to regroup than this island. Though plenty of people know about it, there seemed to be a peaceful, unhurried pace on the day of our visit, and it was fun to wander the corridor of shops along the main streets of its only town. Never mind the numerous deer unabashedly sharing that corridor with you! 

Itsukumisha Shrine -
built on stilts to prevent footprints from defiling the island.
Now there's some forethought!

Gram Pat and Patrick...leaving a few footprints. ;-)

Miyajima's vermillion shrine and spectacular 'floating' torii are truly something to behold against the natural background of mountains and sea. The highlight of our visit was undoubtedly the sunset boat tour Chris arranged so that we might see the torii as it captured the last light of day. (Clever, isn't he?!) For reasons I cannot explain, we had the boat and guide nearly to ourselves - no complaints there! We all watched in quiet admiration as the sun dipped below the horizon, briefly bathing the gate in its light before slipping away. How exciting and satisfying to have this among our final adventures in Japan!

Shameless pilfering no longer required -
thanks, Chris!

A Thousand Paper Cranes

Another lifetime ago, back when I was still working as a teacher in a middle school in upstate New York, there was a novel we used quite regularly with our students.  The story, set in the 1950's, is of a young girl in Hiroshima, sick with leukemia but intent on her goal of folding 1000 paper cranes, in hopes that her wish to be well would come true. Many of you know this touching story of Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes, and perhaps like me, your tears blurred the final pages.  It never occurred to me that years later, one spring day would find me again with tears in my eyes as I gazed at her monument, its backdrop a virtual blanket of thousands of folded cranes sent from children around the world.

I knew the visit to Hiroshima would be difficult. How could it not be difficult?  The very name of the city evokes unspeakable sadness, and it's nearly impossible to fathom the complete devastation of that August morning. And yet, it was important to go and see and hear.   

 The Cenotaph for the A-Bomb Victims contains a registry
of all who have died from the bomb or from related illnesses.

The Peace Memorial Park, with its thoughtful and deliberate design, allows for many contemplative opportunities. Monuments, inscriptions, and an occasional ruin weave the story of that day and the days and years to follow. 

Once a crowning jewel of Hiroshima, this building - now known as the
A-bomb Dome - was one of the few buildings whose outer structure partially survived the blast.

Near the entrance of the park is the Peace Memorial Museum, though one guidebook forewarned, "It will ruin your day".  No exaggeration there! The visit left me with images and stories I'll never forget, and I suppose that's as it should be. At the end of our tour, our guide presented me with a paper crane, with a soft-spoken request to take the message of peace back to students in the U.S.  

Hiroshima, for all of its heartache, is once again alive and bustling. The hills cradling the city have witnessed an impressive rebirth, and the wind carries whispers of never again. You cannot leave Hiroshima without this fragile hope.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game...

...and not just any ball game.  Take me out to a Yokohama Baystars ball game and I'm a happy girl. Ever the clever planner,  Chris arranged for a night at the ball park last week that was lots of fun for all of us, from grandparents to kids. 

I'll confess to knowing only the absolute basics of baseball, despite the fact that my mother was an ardent card-collecting, statistics-taking fan of the game. Nor did the gene rub off by marriage, as my father-in-law, Neil, is also an enthusiastic fan. But even though I may not know the ins and outs of the innings and outs, I do love a good event, and a baseball game in Japan was easily that.

Instant fans: Just add baseball caps
(Go Baystars!)

Pay no attention to the more than half empty seats you spy in the pictures. While it's true the Baystars could use a few more fans, those that were there made sure to fill in any empty spaces with their enthusiastic chants, robust singing, and wild cheering when good fortune came their way. And although the stadium never came close to full capacity, what initially appeared to be a meager crowd was gradually augmented with the arrival of the salarymen, fresh from work and still in suits, bentos in hand.

Those of us who arrived without bentos in hand were suddenly ravenous by about the third inning, and luckily there was no shortage of ballpark fare. I'll admit that eating sticky rice with chopsticks at a sporting event is new to me, but I wasn't complaining. Others in the group went for the more traditional "France Dog". Were you to find this offering in a different continent you might confuse it with a "hot dog", but it is equally delicious, I'm told.

Besides the France Dogs, carmel corn, and bento boxes, another popular item in our group was the draft beer offered from the most adorable beer girls you have ever seen. Bright, smily, efficient, and hard-working, they hustled through the stands with kegs on their backs, cheerfully tapping beer and posing for pictures with their bright eyes and sweet smiles. If they were tired from lugging their lager from stair to stair, it never showed. Impressive!

        

Despite the ongoing entertainment of a cheerful crowd, the mascots and cheerleaders, and numerous fan participation opportunities (a command of the Japanese language would have been helpful here), our wee fans soon tired of shivering in the evening air. We coaxed them into staying till the 7th Inning Stretch and I think they were amused at the spectacle of balloons that fans sent zipping through the air. We left with the game still in the balance, and unfortunately learned later that our newly beloved Baystars had lost by a mere run. But it wasn't for lack of cheering from six new fans!

No Shrine Left Behind (Reprise)

During our nearly seven-month stay here, when precious little has been familiar, we've had the luxury of family visits to salve the scuffs and scrapes of homesicknesses. With the departure of Gram Pat and Grampa Neil earlier this week, the last of our visitors have come and gone, but with plenty of happy memories to bridge the gap to home. Their ten-day whirlwind of a visit included four cities and we were happy to join them for some of the fun!

No trip to Tokyo is complete without a stop at Senso-ji in Asakusa - just ask the thousands of other people visiting that day! And if you time it just right, you'll only have to wait an hour to try the famous Japanese sweet bread for sale by a local vendor.  Just look for the line that is a block and a half long and you've found it!

We held our breath in hopes the cherry blossoms would be kind enough to remain until their arrival, and we were thrilled to be able to share glimpses of this special season together. The sheer volume of people intent on taking part in hanami (cherry-blossom viewing) was a cultural encounter in and of itself, and though we have become accustomed to crowds here, the crush of humanity was surprising even to us at times!  Pictures of cherry blossoms, no matter how carefully composed, became pictures of cherry blossoms plus someone's head. April can be a tricky time to visit for that reason, but Pat and Neil were good sports about going with the flow. And it was quite a flow!

Showing Gram Pat and Grampa Neil the sights
on the three-train trip to church

Time flew, but I can't imagine extracting even one more thing from the visit.  There were train rides and torii gates, ball games and beaches, and boat rides down the Sumida River's corridor of pale pink blossoms. Meiji Shrine did not disappoint in its offering of wedding processions - I believe we saw at least five on the day of our visit. Gram Pat has a keen sense of observation, so despite the fact that some of these were repeats for the kids, it was like going for the first time! There were art museums and Andy Warhol, though I'll confess that 15 minutes was more than enough fame for two young museum-goers. :-) There was Hiroshima, but that is a post in and of itself. Best of all, though, was time spent together - no matter the continent! 

Twist our arms!
We don't need much of an excuse to return to the
helicopter pad on top of Mori Tower.

Feeling breezy on the top of Mori Tower

Pomp & Circumstance, Beanies & Backpacks: 1st Grade in Japan

Added to my growing tally of Areas Where the Japanese Excel is the art of ceremony. True, I could have made that assumption based on our recent graduation experience, with its elegant speeches, music, and conference of PhD-quality diplomas upon the graduating kindergartners at the close of their academic experience at the yochien. Shouldn't I have guessed that the same careful attention would be given to the official commencement of their primary school studies?

None of it should have come as a surprise. Not the decorated hall, nor the procession of new First Graders into the venue, nor the welcome speech delivered by the tux-clad principal.

And why do I even raise an eyebrow anymore when the program goes on to include a concise and informative performance by the Second Graders, demonstrating the various things the younger students can expect in the coming year? Or when the students are ceremoniously introduced to their teacher who, prior to this point, has been seated by herself in another section? But raise an eyebrow, I did. The deliberate and careful consideration of each small piece made for a powerful and beautiful ceremony!

Pomp and circumstance complete, the parents joined their children in the classroom for a brief meeting and explanation of the numerous items awaiting the students on their desks. It's times like these when I really appreciate what Patrick does on a daily basis - the continuous trying to make sense of things. Fortunately, a middle-school teacher with some English proficiency quickly observed my utter confusion and promptly came to my aid. Lucky for me!

Number 27 of 35

We were then dismissed to the play yard for a formal class picture of students and parents. It was a beautiful spring day, with just enough of a breeze to encourage the cherry trees to dust us with the last of their petals. A confetti of good luck, perhaps?

Classes started bright and early the next morning. New First Graders know that their title comes with the responsibility of walking to school on their own. If you happen to be casually standing along the street in front of your apartment watching for cars, say, at 8:00 in the morning (not that I would know this, a-hem) you'll find the first graders easy to spot: pairs or trios of yellow-beanied, sleepy-headed 6-year-olds industriously winding their way to school and wearing backpacks that seem easily in excess of half their body weight. When Patrick returned this afternoon he observed that he "was carrying the world in that backpack". Right now his world includes a thorough variety of textbooks, everything from Japanese writing to math to science to music to art, among others. 

He's off to a good, if brief, start. With our return to the States set for mid-May, his days as a first grader are numbered. He'll be back in kindergarten before he knows it! :-)

Under the Clouds of Heaven

Spring is a wily sort. It teases with anticipation, dropping tempting hints of warmth and sunshine, then mischievously hides without the faintest hint of where it's gone. Spring is like that. But what joy when it seems that Spring is here to stay! 

Add another layer to that here in Japan. The build-up to Cherry Blossom Season is nothing like I've ever seen. The first blossoms bewitch anyone in spotting distance to giddily clutch their neighbor by the arm, eager to point to the happy discovery. With each day, excitement thrums as a patient audience cheers the transformation of an ordinary tree into an elegant spectacle of white and pink. And for the briefest of moments, it would seem that heaven is sharing a bit of its glory. It's beautiful!

So much anticipation, and then suddenly it's over. The season is tragically brief, and this year was quicker than usual. But Chris was able to capture some happy springtime scenes, and it seemed only fair to share this little bit of heaven with you!

A walk through the campus of Tokyo Tech at
the start of the season

The same walk just a few days later. Note the number of people
is in direct proportion to number of blossoms!

Tokyo Sky Tree viewed from Asakusa Temple

Patrick and Evelyn...they bloomed where they were planted :-)
Good job, you two!

Shinjuku Park

Small, Small World

Never mind the stupefyingly large crowds. Forget the sensory overload that comes with dueling strains of piped-in music battling for the attention of your ear. Pay no mind to the menu offerings masquerading as a proper lunch or dinner. Miraculously, none of this matters when you are under the spell of Disneyland. Somehow it mattered even less in Tokyo Disneyland, and who could emerge without some magical memories from two days in that fantasy land with a four- and six-year-old who had never been?

Only through the generosity of a Corvallis friend
(and former Disney employee) did Evelyn acquire this heavenly dress.

Though the park is a mere 20 km from our home, Japan's Magic Kingdom has seemed a bit out of my grasp up to this point - the logistics and timing were always a bit tricky. But Chris gets the credit for helping me pull the trigger late one evening during our recent spring holiday, and how fun was it to wake the kids the next morning with a Who wants to go to Disneyland? (Having never been and with no point of reference, their tentative reaction was priceless: Sure, we'll try it.) Backpacks on our backs, we caught the first of four trains and headed for the bay.

School girls always take a special interest in the kids.
This trio literally screamed in unison when I consented
to their request for a photo.

While I'm not going to lie and tell you Disney is my thing (the crowds! the sensory overload! the food!) the kids' enjoyment was so worth it. Patrick literally danced his way into the park and stifled tears on the way out.  (I'm going to miss this special place!) Evelyn was absolutely spellbound by the Electric Light Parade and I can still see her little face bathed in its light, her small hand shyly waving at each dazzling character rolling by. I practically had to cover her ears when Snow White twirled our way..."Some day my prince will come and all my dreams will come true."  What?! Is she still saying that after all these years?! Luckily, the bilingual format of the parade saved us from other fairytale gaffes, because if anyone else was yearning for a prince to make her dreams come true, we couldn't understand the expression of her wishes. 

Oh, but my words seem so harsh and cynical, don't they?  Exactly the reason that sometimes you just need to drop everything and simply be a kid again, if only for two magical days! And come to think of it...I've got a pretty good prince myself.  :-)

Photo Disclaimer - I take full responsibility for the unfortunate quality of these pictures, which is what I deserve for the foolish notion that an iPhone would suffice for all my photo-taking needs! If only my Prince had been along to capture the magic!