お花見-Ohanami

With the sakura (cherry blossoms) in full bloom, I’ve come to observe what I’ve interpreted to be a sacred Japanese tradition.  When the sakura bloom, it is the Japanese tradition of hanami to go out to look at them.  And that’s it.  Sometimes people plan a picnic or the city plans a festival, but many Japanese people simply go out to look at the sakura and appreciate their beauty. 

I didn’t realize what a big deal it was until this past week.  The newspapers have detailed maps of what percentage of blossoms the sakura trees in various cities have and which areas have lights on for night-time viewings.  The tv news covers stories about “hanami gone wrong” and shows off products that resemble sakura.  Anytime you pass by an area with some cherry trees, you’re bound to see people just standing and looking at them.  My mother loves sakura so much that a couple years ago she had three of them (representing her three daughters) planted in our backyard in Oklahoma (the picture below actually is of our cherry tree, but I pasted my face onto my little sister's so the perverts won't come looking for her or something). 

My host parents went to look at sakura yesterday, and today, they went to separate locations to see more.  I believe my host dad is going again tomorrow.  How many times a year do they go to hanami, and how many years have they done it, and how many photos of sakura have they taken in all that time?  Yet they’re still going and taking pictures.  The fact that these people admire these trees and make a day out of going just to look at them shows the kind of values these people have.  Of course, Japan has its problems, but isn’t it amazing that so many people go out to appreciate trees and that they do it year after year?  I don’t know what kind of historical or cultural symbolism that sakura hold, but I’m deeply touched by the Japanese people’s general reverence of them.  感動しています。

I myself accidentally hanami-ed this past weekend when I happened upon a sakura festival while hanging out in Kobe.  There weren’t very many trees there, but they were beautiful nonetheless, and the general festival atmosphere was pretty fun.  I’m really glad that I was able to experience that, but after having heard today of other people’s hanami experiences from over the weekend, I really want to go again and appreciate it even more.

バレンタインデーとワイトデー

On February 14, the women of Japan celebrate Barentain dee.  Based on the Western Valentine’s Day, barentain dee has the uniquely Japanese tradition of only women giving gifts to men (at least in the heterosexual context; I don’t know if and how Japanese homosexuals participate). 

The most popularized gift to give is handmade chocolate, and it’s kind of a big deal.  There’s the honmeichoko, which you give to the person you like.  There’s the girichoko, translated as “obligation chocolate,” which is like the Valentine’s Day cards you had to give to everyone in your elementary school class.  Girichoko is typically given out to classmates and co-workers, and it is a very popular joke theme for barentain dee episodes of dramas, especially those set in the office.  And recently, there have been two new types of choco: the tomo(dachi)choko or “friend chocolate” and, my personal favorite, the ji(bun)choko or “chocolate for oneself.”  I guess every day is barentain dee for me.

On and around barentain dee, I got to try out all types of choco.  First was a test-piece of honmeichoko, which my friend made for her boyfriend. 

Next was the girichoko that my sensei (teacher) handed out to the class.  Pudding flavor, wootwoot.

Then I spend balentain dee at my host parents’ son’s house, and I got to try the grandchildrens’ tomochoko.  The granddaughter unexpectedly received a lot of tomochoko, so she stressfully spent the afternoon making tomochoko to give in return to everyone the next day.  The grandson received some fancy crocodile-themed “tomochoko” (I think the girl who gave it to him might have been crushin’ on him a little). 

I thought that was to be the extent of my barentain dee experience until I got a surprise tomo-candy that my friend Kimmie* brought with her from America.

And now it’s White Day, part of the Japanese twist on Valentine’s.  On March 14, a month after barentain dee, the men must return the favor to the women who gave them chocolates.  As far as I understand, on White Day, men can’t just give women chocolates or something and be done with it:  They must make an extravagant date of it, complete with romantic meals, lots of sweet pastries, and probably a 6-foot-tall stuffed animal of some sort. 

One of my friends has planned a day out to the onsen (hot springs) with his girlfriend.  Now what will I plan for my Kimmie?? . . .

*Name changed at the person’s request in order to protect her identity

節分 Setsubun!

Today is setsubun, the day before the change of the seasons on the Lunar calendar. On this day, the typical Japanese family celebrates with several rituals. First, the father of the household dresses up as an oni or demon. The children throw roasted soybeans at the oni, chanting oni ha soto, fuku ha uchi: "Demons out, fortune in." Then, as papa oni is driven out, the children shut the door behind him. It's not clear to me whether they let the father back in.

I wasn't able to celebrate this specific ritual with my host father, unfortunately, but I was able to participate in a different Kansai region-specific ritual. Here, it's tradition to eat an uncut roll of makizushi (pictured below in splices) on setsubun.

But here's the kicker: You eat it silently while facing a direction that is specifically designated for that year (at least that's my understanding). So as I picked up my roll of makizushi, my host father pointed to the direction of seinansei (west southwest), and we turned out bodies that way and ate our rolls without speaking. When I took my first bite, all the juices from inside spilled down my arms. I wondered how long we would do this, and after a minute, my host mom somewhat impatiently said that that was enough. The rest of the dinner passed by normally. I asked my host parents what the origins of this tradition were, and they had no idea. They kinda shrugged and told me that they do it just because you're supposed to do it.