Driving into Tokyo in the cab, the only clue anything catastrophic had
happened here, was the lack of lights. The utter dimness, as it were.
Tokyo is usually amazingly vibrant at night. Drab buildings during the
day metamorphose into dazzling spires at night. The view of Tokyo
from the Rainbow bridge is usually awe inspiring. The bridge is a
lighted gateway, like the tunnel of love at a carnival or the entry to
the Texas State Fair. Beneath the bridge brightly lit flat boats twinkle
merrily in ferris wheel colors. These are just an introduction to the amazing
light show of Tokyo - neon sky scrappers and digital billboards everywhere.
This time the bridge wasn't lit, except for those necessary for the
motorway, there were no boats, and only the most essential lights
in the buildings were on. What happened to all the neon?! It was
like Disneyland had been turned off.
Thankfully the flight was uneventful. Ranger wasn't quite as good as he
was last time while waiting to board. He did lunge at a couple of people
who tried to pet him. But there weren't any injuries....to others, which is
good. Even before we made it to our apartment he recognized the
neighborhood. He ran directly to our apartment. After a quick inspection
of each room, he immediately found one of his fleece beds and started
humping it. That's my boy!!!
It was like we never left, literally. It rained the first four days. It was
dreary. The jet lag didn't help. I really need to find a way to overcome
this darkness because it's amazing how much my mood is tied to the
weather. I guess that's what happens when you grow up in sun
drenched Southern California. It seems to rain here 45% of the time and
be overcast the rest of the time. Sunny days are like a holiday.
But then one of my neighbors invited me over to her apartment for lunch
out of the blue. She was having a few of her Japanese friends over and
wanted to introduce me. My neighbor is a trailing wife with no kids -
a TWNK like me. Hey, I just made that up - I like it.
Lunch was in less than an hour. I hadn't showered. I immediately went
into panic mode. What would I wear?!!! I had no make up on.
I was so unprepared! I was wearing jeans and a peasant blouse. Ineeded to dress demurely for Japanese women. This is hard for me
to do because it seems no matter what I wear, my chest sticks out like
a banner for lasciviousness. I'm not kidding. A turtleneck looks
obscene on me compared to the girlish modesty of Japanese women.
Ultimately I worried myself out of time and decided to follow my
hostess's lead. She was wearing jean capris and a t-shirt. So I put on
some mascara and a zip up hoodie to cover the breast baring peasant
shirt and headed next door with a bottle of chardonay. Hopefully they
drink during the day; doesn't everybody?
The experience was very enlightening. We made pretzels of all things.
They were great. That was the best part of the lunch.
Sometimes I wish I weren't so intuitive. The Japanese meliority thing
is really oppressive. I seriously don't fit in with my vivacious personality
and natural exuberance. Or maybe they don't prefer blonds.
One of the Japanese women is a radio newscaster and a part time chef who
teaches classes on Japanese and French cooking. She studied at the
Cordon Bleu school in Tokyo. Very impressive. Course it would have
been more impressive if she stopped reminding me and suggesting I
take her cooking classes and not in a friendly, inviting way.
She made a point of telling us she brought a "hand made" cake for dessert.
When I asked her if "hand made" was the same as "home made" she
practically sneered at me. I must have offended her by asking. I tried to
explain that in the U.S. "home made" means you made it at home; as opposed
to buying it at a store, so I assume "hand made" means the same One of the
other Japanese women who teaches Japanese to English people, said, "Don't
American women make cakes from boxes? Does that mean home made?"
Was she truly asking or making a statement? I said, depends on the
woman and smiled.
The Japanese teacher kept trying to sell me on her services. She couldn't find
her business card fast enough. Although it was pretty amazing watching her
ask my hostess questions in Japanese and then hearing my hostess answer in
English. I may have to give her a call.
The third Japanese women was from Kamakura, a local beach town. She's a
friend of the Japanese teacher. She studied at Stanford. She is the first person
I've met who didn't tell me she was from Stanford within the first five minutes
of knowing her. Most people from Stanford find a way to get this in. Hi" my
name's Dawn; I went to Stanford." Is this like warning: threat of intelligence
pending. Be warned. I actually had to ask where she went to school.
She brought the most amazing vegetables from Kamakura. Sounds odd but
the baby carrots, pristine turnips and lettuce were like art - so lush , so
colorful and fresh. You didn't even need salad dressing, they were
so amazing. Apparently there's a farmer's market in Kamakura chefs from
Tokyo frequent daily for their superior produce. I didn't see the farmer's
market when I was there - just a giant buddha.
Anyway, I was the only one who asked questions, otherwise it was silent
or the Japanese women conversed in Japanese. I kind of thought it was
rude. Ok, not kind of. I thought it was really rude. They spoke in Japanese
most of the time even though they knew I don't speak any. Russell
suggested they didn't speak English very well. Um, one teaches Japanese
to English people and the other, the newscaster, spoke English better than
her. Perhaps this is a taste of our own medicine. Americans are always
indignant when foreigners come to the U.S. and don't speak the language.
Hmmmmm. Perhaps I was the one being rude?
Mostly I asked my hostess questions about her. She was engaging. She's
from Philadelphia. She has three cats. She's lived in Geneva, Stutgart,
Colorado, Washington D.C., New Hampshire, Tokyo and Sicily. Oh, and
the South Pole. What!? She met her husband, who was a doctor in the Navy
at the time, at a science facility in the South Pole. He was the doctor
stationed there and she had several positions including research assistant,
search and rescue technician and even, cook. Facinating.
Lunch consisted of a salad made from the amazing vegetables, grilled
sausages and pasta with arugula pesto. This was followed by the
home-made pretzels we all helped to make. It was intriguing to watch
the chef/newscaster correct our efforts to roll out the pretzel dough,
(maybe her superiority wasn't just about me). I marveled at how calm
our hostess was while cooking under her scrutiny. They had an amusing
exchange on the proper way to frost cupcakes.
My neighbor has four groups of friends she's cultivated while in Tokyo,
most of them are Japanese. Quite a departure from the other xpats I've
met who just seem to hang out with other xpats. She teaches a form of
exercise I've never heard of which is a combination of Yoga, Tai Chi,
and meditation. This form of exercise is supposed to strengthen your
inner muscles, not your outer muscles, thereby making your entire body
and your mind stronger. And apparently it solves world peace.
She had us get up after our lunch and do four of these exercises. It was
very surreal standing there with the three Japanese women, making sure
my cleavage doesn't pop out, while performing these exercises, which
are more or less stretches. If I wasn't so self-conscious, they actually
would have felt good.
I was very flattered to be included and went home with some of the left
over vegetables, pretzels and cakes. But when I got home I felt oddly
misplaced and sort of depressed. I concluded it was due to the lack of
connection and energy. Usually I feel energized when I spend time with
people. But since they never really engaged with me, just superficially
or tried to sell me, and the energy was so low compared to my natural
cadence, it sort of fell flat.
But I liked my hostess, a lot. Plus she makes great pretzels.
No comments:
Post a Comment