Saturday, April 21, 2012

Cherry Blossom Viewing

It’s one of those things that just doesn’t translate well: Hanami. Literally meaning, “Look at flowers,” the concept of Hanami embodies much more than a stroll through a garden. Last Sunday David and I went with Kazuyo, my boss, to a park called Kamiyama. There we joined dozens of families having picnics, playing games, and enjoying a day out in the beautiful sunshine.

 It looked like any Sunday outing, with one major difference: the sheet of pink above our heads. Japanese cherry blossom trees in bloom are like no other colour. They aren’t the dark pink of tulips. They aren’t the garish hot pink of a nine-year-old girl’s bedroom. For one very brief moment in spring the whole country of Japan is the soft shade of a baby’s blanket. But babies are small; hence their blankets are small. Early April in Japan is the only time I’ve ever seen such an unbroken line of baby pink.

The school year in Japan begins during cherry blossom season. The promise of new life and fresh flowers carry over into the promise of a new school year with fresh opportunities to learn and grow.

Cherry blossoms represent the life cycle in miniature. They bud, flower, and whither very quickly in early spring. Since their peak time for viewing is very, short cherry blossoms also represent a fleetingness in life. So, for one day, people take time out of their busy schedules. At the height of the blooming, families and friends pack up picnic lunches and have a party under the trees.

 Hanami doesn’t translate well into English. Yet the concepts of taking a break from overly busy schedules, enjoying beauty in nature, and celebrating life cross national boundaries. Maybe we should find a word for Hanami in English. Along sakura (cherry blossom) road.



David's picture of sakura.


David and I with Momo, my boss' dog.

Monday, April 02, 2012

The First Week

This is from March 28th. I'll post it today, even though it's not current. I don't have anything current, but soon.

We arrived one week ago today. I think we’re mostly getting switched over to a 16-hour time difference. I’m sleeping through the night now, although come around the middle of the afternoon, I’m ready for bed again.

Tokushima is Japan. Everything I remember about Tokyo, with fewer people. The same type of buildings, the same restaurants, the same advertisements I can’t read. The difference comes in its surroundings. Where as I lived in the heart of Tokyo, and rarely saw greenery, Tokushima is at the base of Mount Bizan, and is surrounded by fields of vegetables. Most of the students’ families have either large gardens or farms. In the few days I’ve been at the school, I’ve received spinach, carrots, cabbage, and broccoli more than David and I could ever eat.

And then there’s the bicycle. I don’t cycle. Everyone who knows me knows I will walk for an hour to avoid cycling for 15 minutes. When that hour long walk is at night, even in a safe country, I am a little hesitant. Mainly because at 9:00 at night, I just want to be home in bed! So, I’ve been biking to work. And I’ve only fallen into one field (don’t worry, the field hadn’t been planted yet), and been the bane of only a dozen or so cars.

But, then, I’ve only biked to school twice. I am sure I’ll find many more people to run over as they days progress.