Gay Times at Ikebana

Our instructions were clear: Take the JR line to Kita Kamakura, exit the station to our right, turn left at the T-intersection, and walk five more minutes to Kencho-ji Temple. Since I was walking at the back of the pack of five Americans, we did not wander off down any of those intriguing side lanes and actually reached the temple thirty minutes early.

Dragging young American military spouses to Ikebana programs is one of my many hobbies. Yesterday it was Jane, who finds my definition of "young" laughable since she is just a year younger than my brother Jimmy.

"Hey! I've been here before," said I. "The Japanese-American Friendship Society brought us here on a bus on St. Patrick's Day in 2007. There's a Starving Buddha statue in one of these buildings."

"Ah, there it is." (Finding this statue boosted my credibility immensely with the other American ladies, especially the ones who were on that ill-fated trip to Kamakura two weeks back when the waffle restaurant was closed and the "fabulous" fabric store was nowhere to be found.)

The Ikebana program was held in the main hall behind the temple. We stashed our shoes in little cubbies and padded around on stockinged feet (Note to Self: invest in some new socks).



Fortunately we arrived at the main hall ahead of the pack and nabbed bench seats. Those flat black pillows offer a great view but only if you can see straight after kneeling for 60-90 minutes.

The program was a demonstration by a third-generation flower arranger from Kyoto, Tenshin Nakano, who is the most emaciated young man I have ever seen outside the pages of a Japanese comic book (manga). His objective is to attract younger people to flower arranging. He tells his students to approach this art as if they were trying to assemble a fashionable outfit from the clothes hanging in their closet.

Nakano insisted on total silence (I was in the back row, fortunately) while he assembled five different arrangements in containers scattered around the altar. He bent and twisted some of those branches quite brutally, then held them to his forehead so they could "speak to him and tell them what they wanted to be."

My favorite part was the Q&A session at the end where he felt compelled to declare, "I am not gay!" Thanks for sharing, Nakano.

The only reason I know that's what he said is I asked the lady sitting next to me why all the Japanese ladies were laughing. Midori (at left with my old friend Diana) translated and then we got to talking and I found out she lived in "Mishi-gan" for two years. I think I might be the first "Mishi-gander" she has run into outside the mitten because she sort of adopted me. Which is why I now know more about flower arranging gadgets than I did 24 hours ago. And which is also why I have been tasked with writing an article about yesterday's program for the Ikebana yearbook.

This will teach me to be curious and semi-vivacious. Maybe.