Four Ideas for Celebrating Cherry Blossom Season Next Year

This is my final - or, gosh, maybe second to last - post about cherry blossoms for this year because I really need to get on with my life and I know you're anxious to hear about the Oedo Antique Market, the Recycled Kimono Sale, and how the Ancient Mariner survived four days of being bossed around Tokyo before fleeing to South Korea where he hopes to catch up on sleep during those interminable meetings where even the most innocuous comments must be repeated by a translator. 

Next spring will be my last chance to experience hanami in Japan. Instead of just wandering around with a camera as is my habit, maybe I will "go native" and approach the season from a new angle.

A cherry blossom scavenger hunt might be fun. I could try to track down all the different varieties of cherry trees pictured on the signboards scattered around the parks.

These two women are chanting in unison. Isshii-san tells me her father teaches this traditional Japanese . . . I am desperately searching for a noun here . . . art? sport? thing? entertainment? . . . at a local community center. Surely we can work up a charming little routine by next April.

Surely the easiest way to enjoy the sakura would be to invest in a ground tarp and a few bottles of sake like these men I saw at Mitsuike Park. Isn't it adorable that they doffed their shoes before stepping on that mat? Their mothers and wives trained them well.

Or maybe I should invest in a wooden flute like the only other gaijin I spotted among the thousands of cherry blossom celebrants in Yokohama on April 10. He was one of three flautists scattered around the park that day but the only one referring to sheet music. The others were either playing from memory or extemporaneously.

Frankly, I was a little embarrassed for the guy and found myself hoping he was German or French or Australian or any nationality other than American. I have a hunch he is what Dr. T would call a henna gaijin which roughly translates to "strange foreigner". (To put this in context, Dr. T was warning me that people were going to start calling me a henna gaijin if I didn't get a grip on myself.)

According to my subsequent research, henna gaijin creep out the Japanese by acting too Japanese, even though they blatantly look like foreigners. Henna gaijin can speak Japanese (no), use chopsticks (yes), eat natto with relish (not if it was the last food on earth), know more about Buddhism and garden landscaping than most Japanese people (maybe), and even use the elevators correctly (okay, lately I've been hitting that 'close door' button the second I step inside).

Upon reflection, the tarp and sake is probably the best option.