This made me happy. The sight of two men sitting on a bench enjoying lunch in the park made me happier (so much so that when they whistled at me, it went almost completely unnoticed. The only thought it evoked was, "Hm, they must be Brazilian." Japanese men don't whistle at women, and Brazilians are the largest minority population in Moka.) As I rode my bike along the path, I tried to determine the spot from which my camera could best capture the scene. I finally chose a spot, stopping just after I passed two little old Japanese ladies chatting. While I snapped a few pictures, their conversation drew to a close, sending one little oba-san in my direction. Much to my delight, she not only acknowledged my existence, she greeted me and lingered a little, giving me an opportunity to strike up conversation, which I quickly seized in my best Japanese (read "complete butchering of the language"). I pointed to the lantern and said precisely "This, what?" She explained to me that the lanterns were hung for "hanami," the cherry blossom viewing party that would begin as soon as the flowers sprang forth from their buds. She estimated it would be in about 6 days. She told me that the lanterns all represented different business and organizations in the community, and that when the flowers began to bloom and the festival kicked off, there would be food stalls in the park, as well. She said all of this in Japanese. :-). Then she asked a few questions about me, where I'm from, what I do in Moka, if I'm married. When I answered no, she said my parents must have cried when I left. I admitted that my parents miss me a great deal, and she encouraged me to press on. Then she smiled, laughed, shook her head at my terrible Japanese, and continued on her walk. It was beautiful. I continued on my bike ride, which lead to crossing her path once more, and she smiled and said "Ja ne! Bye bye!"
Then I rode my bike to the shrine, hoping to find more pretty lanterns. I did not find lanterns, but I did find beautiful flowers. In my limited knowledge, I ascertain that they are cherry blossoms. However, this is my "hajimete" (first time) hanami experience. So maybe they're plum blossoms, who knows? Either way, the photos are quite nice. (exhibit B)
I must admit that until today, I really couldn't grasp what could be so wonderful about cherry blossoms that every town in Japan would have a "flower viewing festival" each year, where people put on their very expensive, traditional Japanese attire and walk along lantern-lit paths, surrounded by thousands of other people doing the exact same thing. I mean really? They're just flowers.
But I must also admit that today, as I walked under one of the trees, on a carpet of fallen pedals, and the wind blew just right causing a few more pedals to fall around me, there was something magical about it. And, as I said before, for all I know, these were just plum blossoms, and the cherry blossoms will be even more majestic.
The shrine is a really peaceful place. Sometimes I feel like maybe it should feel oppressive or uninviting to visit a shrine, but there was not even a trace of this at the Moka shrine today. I could have stayed for hours admiring the flowers, enjoying the weather, and taking in the peacefulness, but I was a little apprehensive about the clouds rolling in. So I continued on.
I took a little path I saw near the entrance of the shrine, and, man, did I find some interesting things. First, there were the pretty things. (See images below)
Just after crossing the train tracks, I noticed a fenced in area with a few people walking around, looking around, almost like they observing some sort of exhibit. Two of the people walked up to the fence, smiling from ear to ear, and said hello to me, in English. It was incredibly un-Japanese. It made me feel like I was the thing on display. It confused me, but I liked it. I always like friendly strangers.
I ended up taking a path that circled around this strange park, and was startled to turn a corner and see a donkey, an ostrich, and an entire rabbit farm. Just beyond these, I saw signs for a squirrel farm. Adding to the oddness, for the entirety of my park-circling, there was this music box-esque melody coming from speakers that I couldn't see. It was really strange. I felt like I was in a horror movie. I didn't stick around.
On my bike ride home, I decided to stop at Fukudaya, the upscale everything store that has the best selection of produce and a bakery.
As I park my bike in front of the store, I hear someone call out my name. I look up to see about 6 of my 1st year students sitting in McDonalds directly across from me. Two more are running up to me, and they invite me inside.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel a secret sense of victory when the surrounding Japanese people, who usually despise me for existing on their island or stare straight through me, were forced to acknowledge that their own kind desire to be in my presence, so much so that they will come running up to me to invite me inside.
The other side of the coin is that all but one of my girls were wearing their school warm ups, AND loads of makeup. Junior high school students aren't allowed to wear makeup, but here they are, wearing it with their school uniforms, loud and proud. Here are my girls:
I sat and chatted with them for a little, relying mostly on the one Peruvian girl, who typically speaks to me in Spanish, to translate.
Then I continued on to Fukudaya, where I discovered that I did not really want to pay twice as much for the things I could buy across the street for half the price. So I bought only the things I couldn't get at the cheaper store.
As I walked over to the cheaper grocery store, I passed the tiny little Thai store, where the first stranger in Moka to ever talk to me works. I said hello to him, and we chatted for a few minutes. I told him, in my still terrible Japanese, that my parents are coming to Japan soon, and we talked about that for awhile. It was an awkward conversation. I was grasping for any Japanese words I knew, but he is a kind man, and he held up the conversation, until finally I felt like more of a burden than a conversationalist.
I went on to the cheap store, and fell pray to the onigiri, a very important part of Japanese life. These delicious treats are essentially rice balls stuffed with various fillings and wrapped in seaweed. And they're surprisingly delicious. The problem I sometimes run into is that I can't read the Japanese writing that tells me what will be inside. So today, I bought three, completely clueless as to what I might find inside. It was an adventure. Then I headed home to eat my three tasty treats. However, my eyes were bigger than my stomach, and I was full after one. The one I chose was filled with a sweet soy-flavored substance that was most likely a type of seaweed. Admittedly, when I caught my first glimpse of the filling, I was alarmed, but, as it turns out, it was scrumptious. Take a look.
The remaining onigiri will be enjoyed at a later time. Yum!
And that, my friends, is a national holiday in the life of yours truly.
Cheers.
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