Tsugino Shingo WO Hidari ni Magatte Kudasai!

My imagination has prepared me for more experiences than I can possibly cram into one lifetime. If I'm ever handed an Oscar, for instance, that brilliant acceptance speech delivered with the utmost humility will not be quite as extemporaneous as non-relatives in the audience might think. Ditto for the Nobel Peace Prize, Grammy, Emmy, and Congressional Medal of Honor.

Yet I was completely unprepared for my assignment at the Ikebana holiday program held at the New Sanno Hotel in Tokyo this month.  They asked me to don a Santa Claus hat and stand on a busy street corner across from two subway exits in the world's most populous city, holding a placard bearing the words 'Ikebana International' in both English and Japanese.  Fortunately the three to seven people most likely to be mortified by this sight currently reside on the other side of the planet. 

Had I known about the hat in advance, I could have set the alarm for twenty minutes later and foresworn the hair ritual.  This miffed me enough to insist on a speaking role.  "I ought to tell them to turn left at the next major intersection.  How do I say 'Please turn left at the next light' in Japanese?"  Bi-lingual Midori-san grabbed a notepad and wrote it out for me.  In Japanese.  "Um, sumimasen, but I can't read these little squiggles."  She re-wrote my line in romaji (Roman letters) - Tsugino shingo wo hidari ni magatte kudasai - and then had me practice reciting it faster and faster until it sounded like this: Tsuginishingo WO hidarinimagattekudasai.  A long-suffering bellhop served as my dress rehearsal audience and then I marched a quarter mile to my appointed corner, nodding benevolently to the thirteen hundred rush hour pedestrians I encountered enroute.  Fortunately the three to seven people most likely to be mortified by this sight currently reside on the other side of the planet.  Oops!  I already mentioned that, didn't I?

Every single Japanese member and guest turned left at the next light and arrived at the New Sanno Hotel in time to see and hear the Kinnick High School Show Choir perform.  That was gratifying, certainly, but having mastered this Japanese tongue twister, I am now searching for opportunities to repeat my performance.  With or without the hat.

This one's for Kate




Miles and Andrew flank the Queen Bee

 The Show Choir sang like angels, especially Mimi's son Andrew, a senior, and a miniscule freshman with a pure and powerful voice.  His last name is Davis and his mother named him Miles.  Trust me, music lovers have not heard the last of Miles Davis.

The next time you turn left at a light, I hope you will think of me. 
  

If I Wanted to Wear a Costume, I'd Audition for a Play

There's only one thing I like about Halloween and that's doling out candy to little princesses, Power Rangers, and wizards. Everything else -- scraping goop out of pumpkins, the color orange, and adult costume parties -- stimulates my gag reflex.

But here I am, living in a foreign country, doing my best to be an ambassador of good will for my native land. And the Japanese ladies think it's fun to wear costumes and carve pumpkins in October so that's that.

In an uncharacteristic display of good sportsmanship, this year I went the extra mile and ordered a costume on-line. The costume did not arrive in time for the Shonan party last week so some circa 1962 ingenuity was in order.

Witches, witches, and more witches

Pippi Longstocking arrived in Japan a few months ago. Our oldest sons were best friends in second grade at Star of the Sea School in Virginia Beach in 1993. It's been fun reconnecting with her at Shonan, book club, and Ikebana events.

Yoriko and Reiko attack their pumpkins

Medieval Wench Susan chats with Sumo Mimi. Inside the sumo costume is a little battery-operated fan. The menopausal women were orange with envy.

We dubbed this trio the Aladdins. The Genie is a former softball and basketball standout at Wayne State University. She'll put on the costume again to entertain Japanese children at the Yokosuka Community Center. Tia is Jasmine and you'll be seeing a lot more pictures of Tia because she's vice president of Ikebana this year. Cory the Sheik is the mother of two of Matt's friends; our paths first crossed in 1992, shortly before we both met Pippi Longstocking.

A witch poses with Trinity/Neo

This is Ingenuity, a Japanese cell phone charm. At least I finally got some use out of the Shinto priest's skirt that's been hanging in my closet for the past two years.

Exhibition of Sogenkai: A Guest Post by Flat Stanley

I was still giggling about our taxi ride when we entered the big brick building across from the train station. "The Exhibition of Sogenkai is on the third floor," Aunt Kathy proclaimed as she made a beeline for the elevator. We followed an elderly lady into the first elevator that arrived. "Why didn't those five Japanese men get on the elevator with us, Aunt Kathy?" "Maybe because we got on an elevator that's going down rather than up," Aunt Kathy whispered as we watched the elderly lady slowly exit on the basement level. We smiled sheepishly at those five Japanese men, now chuckling politely, when we picked them up on our way back past the first floor.

Whoa! The gallery lobby was teeming with Japanese people when we exited the elevator. Aunt Kathy stuck out like a cherry in a can of fruit cocktail which probably explains why an official-looking lady hustled over to greet us. "Takako?" Aunt Kathy carefully enunciated each syllable. The lady led us to a room off to the right of the foyer and pointed to Takako's painting just as a man began addressing the foyer horde in a loud, professorial tone of voice.

We admired Takako's painting for a few seconds and then Aunt Kathy spotted her friends at the far end of the gallery, across that foyer crammed with 50 people paying rapt attention to the art professor. We saw the official-looking lady tap Takako on the arm and gesture in our direction. We watched Takako approach us. We cringed as she scurried between the lecturer and his audience. Takako hugged Aunt Kathy then tugged her toward the far end of the gallery.

Aunt Kathy looked so funny crossing that foyer. She must have bowed at least 15 times before she reached the center of the room and then she just scuttled the rest of the way with her head bent to her knees like a nonagenarian with extreme osteoporosis. Mary Beth and Mimi were laughing hysterically when Takako left us with them.

Aunt Kathy saw a bench and decided to sit down for a few minutes to recover her dignity. A man wearing a Burberry scarf tapped Aunt Kathy on the arm, gestured at the paintings on the walls around us, then opened his program, raised one eyebrow until it looked like a question mark, and rattled off a string of words. "I don't have the faintest idea what you're saying," Aunt Kathy replied politely.

After the man repeated this exercise three times, Mimi took a crack at it. "He thinks you are an artist and wants to know which paintings are yours." Aunt Kathy reprised her careful pronunciation of "Takako" and the man found Takako's name in his program while I made a mental note: definitely get on Mimi's team if anyone proposes a game of Charades.

"Psst! Aunt Kathy! Will you please take my picture with that nice man and his wife?" The thing is -- and this is totally unfair to Kristen -- I suspect that couple had the distinct impression Aunt Kathy created me. They simply could not believe she is not an artist. "Do I have some sort of crazy Van Gogh glint in my eye?" Ummm, no, but you are starting to resemble Grandma Moses . . .

As you can see, Takako's painting is very lovely, quite green, and positively enormous. We admired it from every possible angle until Mimi's stomach growled a farewell to Takako and we wandered down the street to an Indian restaurant where the waiters were all wearing baggy silk pants and embroidered jackets.

Aunt Kathy was so busy admiring the waiters' clothes and shoveling naan in her mouth that she forgot to order lunch for me but she made up for this oversight by taking me to a bakery on our way back to the train station. Since 2010 is the Year of the Tiger, she bought me this tiger pastry. It looks like a cinnamon roll, doesn't it? Surprise! That dark stuff isn't cinnamon, it's chocolate. Yum.

In summary, riding around the block in a taxicab was a lot of fun and I liked seeing Takako's painting and meeting Aunt Kathy's friends and the man with the Burberry scarf and his cheerful wife, but the best part of the day for me was when Aunt Kathy encouraged me to play with my food. Grrrrrrrrr!