The Laughing Grass
...written on 06.30.03, @ 2:46 p.m.
Sun June 29, 2003
Last week Min conveyed a message to me from his ex-wife. We had met about a week before at the mall and had dinner together with their 15 year old son. His ex-wife wanted me to come over to her place for dinner and . . . a sleepover.
Min and I have talked about the first thing that attracts most Japanese to me, my being a foreigner, and that many Japanese people don't have the opportunity to meet one so up close and personal.
I remember the first time I was in Japan in 1985, I was walking along a country road with my host family. I found a pair of prescription glasses and wondered what to do with them. My host father indicated the police station a few feet ahead and I went in alone to drop them off.
The four policemen on duty immediately surrounded me, sat me down, got me tea, got out the "lost glasses found on the side of the road by a foreigner" form and the one with the best English, joyfully interrogated me with a good 45 minute mixture of broken English, dictionary look-ups and charades, his colleagues beaming on in awe.
"How many meters from the road did you find the glasses?" "How was the weather when you found the lost article?" etc. and other non-lost article questions. My host father came in twice to inquire as to the hold up and was politely shooed outside with the promise that it would be over soon. The third time he came in however, he was all puffed up with anger and was assured they were wrapping things up. Fifteen minutes later, I emerged to continue our walk and was told not to find anything else along the way.
Min assured me that in regards to his ex-wife, Naoko's, invitation, my being an American, was not a factor. Yeah, like THAT was reassuring. HA!
Dear Readers, I jest. I knew the invitation to be a genuine one and was touched by it and told Min I'd be happy to go. Min said that Saturday, after my classes, he would drop me off and then pick me up the next day.
I packed a change of clothes, toothbrush etc. I also threw in some of my pictures of me, family and friends, and, a game that I had made for English class I thought we could play.
Saturday however was a rough day of classes and my lower back was in knots. I took a hot shower and then called Min to tell him my back was "broken". He came over to massage it and suggested calling things off. I said "No way!" and for him to please not mention it. I didn't want Naoko to worry.
When we arrived, Naoko was busy preparing dinner. Gradually the table was set and I smiled as I remembered Matt's advice to switch the plates when noone was looking (oh ye of little faith).
After dinner we passed around old pictures, Naoko being particularly enamored of one of me in my video jockey days in the Dominican Republic, with my jazzy black hair, make-up and colorful outfit and oh yeah, about 60 pounds thinner. I like that picture too.
After we played the game I brought, the nighttime ritual began. Naoko put on the Titanic DVD while we all took turns taking a shower and getting ready for bed. Min decided to stay the night and Naoko set up a futon for him in another room.
I slept for about 4 hours and tried to stifle my coughs in the too bright dawn, waiting another two hours to get up before I heard anyone else stir. Min and I spent some time together in his room talking about recent happenings and communications between us and many things became clear and not so scary anymore.
What a gorgeous day! The sun bounced off puffy cotton clouds and a strong cool breeze wafted the curtains to and fro. After breakfast, Naoko set about doing the laundry. We're in the rainy season now, so any sunshine must be taken advantage of. Min suggested a little field trip while Naoko got some housework done, so we went to Kokubunji, a neighborhood temple.
I was in the heart of Min's world. His parents lived straight down the street from Kokubunji, his ex-wife and child, a stone's throw away as well. He pointed out the mounds that were once topped with temple buildings destroyed perhaps by lightning and the ensuing fire, and the large boulders more than half buried in the ground that served as foundation for the long gone ancient structures.
It was here that he and his elementary school friends brought their lunch, had daily school exercise outings, where they played "protect the castle from the ninjas" and where as a father, among the grassy fields, he taught his young son how to play soccer.
The wooden temple still standing on the hill amidst newer buildings, was built over a thousand years ago and long white flags decorated with flowing black kanji flapped snappily in the wind, the attached bamboo poles creaking and swaying.
Min greeted a woman caretaker at the front of the temple. Like some elderly Japanese women, due to osteoporosis, her back was permanently bent to almost a 90 degree angle, she squinted her eyes curiously and then said Min's last name with a questioning tone. Min nodded and the woman exclaimed, "Ohisashiburi!" (Long time no see!).
Arm in arm, we walked the trail of the 100 monks that wound its way through pine, cedar and bamboo groves. Low-to-the-ground cement turrets housed pairs of small stone statues of monks, each with a different name and purpose, bedecked with many colorful cloth bibs, faded by weather and time.
The swish swish of the leaves and the rich thick green stalks were so entrancing that I didn't want to leave the bamboo grove, but we finally emerged from the forest trail and perched upon rocks warmed with sun to enjoy the view.
Min pointed out the geographical landmarks, Gifu Castle high on its own mountain perch, the twin towers of the Nagoya train station, and over that western mountain range lay Yoro and Kamiishizu. I tried to count the myriad shades of green and had to stop at twenty-six, but the most intriguing thing was the pattern made by the wind in the limber rice fields below.
The undulating blades alternated from fire to water. At half mast they were fire creeping slowly and dancing upwards in invisible plumes, but when the wind would huff through in strong short puffs, they bent all the way down and appeared to flow like a river of water rushing around rocks under the swirling weight of the air. When we descended and were side to side with the green stalks, the fields oped their emerald lips in stepped gales of laughter to my immense delight. They were happy rice fields indeed and I could have watched the rice and wind dance duo all day long.
Koshiro had to study for a test, so we grownups headed to the mall to see a movie. We had a couple of hours to kill, so we had lunch, where I beat Min at thumb wrestling (did I say grownups?), but had to call it a draw with Naoko. We went to the pet store where I saw a beautiful Russian Blue kitten for US$1000! It was pretty folks, but not THAT pretty! Purebreed pets are very expensive in Japan.
Then we went up in the ferris wheel and peered at the city scenery to our left and the country scenery to our right. The piped-in reggae music inspired us to dance and one by one (we would have tipped our cabin to do it all at once) we showed our best island dance style.
We didn't get to see the movie afterall as we were all kind of pooped, so we went back, Min and I said our thank-yous and goodbyes and headed home.
I took a shower and slept for about half an hour and then Min called me over to show me his vintage 56 year old Martin guitar. He played some tunes and then we sang my song a few times.
At 8:30 p.m. we left on the train for Nagoya. Had dinner at the Hard Rock Cafe where Min had a blast looking at all the Rock Music Memorabilia. I bought him a T-shirt there and then we walked to Nagoya station and snuggled together on the train ride home.