LET'S GIVE THANKS

This week marked Thanksgiving, and eager to celebrate any occasion centering around food, some friends and I decided to organize a large feast.  There were nine of us in all, the four Americans outnumbered by our Commonwealth (and other) brethren: an Aussie, a Kiwi, a Scot, an Irishman, and a Brit.  However, the holiday was almost scuppered on Monday, when I returned from school to find that the electricity had been shut off in my apartment.**  No hot water, no way to light the gas stove, and no warming defenses against the 40 degree weather outside.  However, the biggest problem was the refrigerator, and more importantly, the variety of foods housed in said fridge, including the turkey.  I quickly packed up the essentials and headed to my friend's apartment, where he gave asylum to the turkey et al.   Saved!

Makeshift cornucopia

The feast, part 1

Wednesday was a national holiday, so we gathered at noon to partake of an epic meal that included turkey, stuffing, meat pies, cheese, salad, three kinds of homemade bread, cranberry sauce, wine, homemade pie, chocolates, mashed potatoes...and some other things I can't remember at the moment.  Oops. The EPA? We played games, talked about what we were thankful for, and stuffed ourselves silly.  Even better, Wednesday also happened to be the day of a huge festival for my village, and the procession passed right by my window.  Who needs the Macy's Thanksgiving parade when you have people singing and dancing, all while dressed in traditional Japanese clothing, such as samurai armor?  The best part of the day (other than not giving anyone salmonella poisoning from the turkey) was the cultural exchange. For the non-Americans, this was their first Thanksgiving, and they all seemed to enjoy it, while making fun our pronunciation of words like "banana" and "herbs."  We all agreed that on a day typically reserved for family and close friends, it was really nice to be able to come together as a surrogate family. 

One of my students was dressed up as the "princess" of the parade.

**It turns out that the automatic payment system for the electricity had not been set up (even though I had been told it had), and the statements I had been getting in the mail were not to help me keep track of what was being deducted from my account every month. 

KANE NO KIREME WA EN NO KIREME: "WHEN POVERTY FLIES IN, LOVE FLIES OUT"

My dad recently sent me an interview with an American named Donald Keene, who spent a lifetime translating Japanese literature into English.  He became a celebrity in Japan shortly after the Tohoku earthquake, when he announced that he was going to become a Japanese citizen and live out the rest of his days in Japan. I brought the article to my latest session with my adult eikaiwa group.  The Japanese are fascinated by perceptions of Japan in other cultures.  What are they known for?  What interests us about them? Basically: how have they impacted the larger world?

When I first brought up Donald Keene, I wasn't sure if anyone would have heard of him, since I hadn't until I read the article.  However, not only did everyone recognize his name, but they all had an opinion on him.  Most people smiled benignly at the mention of his name, but one of my ladies spoke up and said, "Oh, I don't think he speaks Japanese as well as everyone says he does."  "That's interesting," I responded, surprised, "I actually wanted to ask you all about something he said in the interview."  Quoth Keene: "The most important words in English are 'I love you.' When you translate that into Japanese, there is no 'I' and no 'you.'"  The group applauded wildly- "Yes! That is so true!" The Keene objectioner said begrudgingly, "Well, I guess he speaks Japanese better than I thought." I asked them why people express themselves that way. 

"We only use the verb.  When you say it to someone else, they know what you mean." 
"Because it's obvious? What if you're talking about someone you're going to marry, and you say to someone, 'I love him/her'?" 
"No, you still would only use the verb.  They would understand." 

Somehow the Japanese have managed to make love less proprietary, but also more impersonal.  There aren't different degrees or variations of love, it just exists.  And when you use the word, it should be obvious to the other person what your intent is. 

Two boulders are placed several meters apart at this temple.  According to the brochure, if you can walk blindfolded from one rock to the other, you will soon find your love.

The lone male in my adult eikaiwa group keeps asking me if husbands and wives in America talk to each other once they're married.  "I guess it depends," I say. "I think a lot of couples complain that they don't."  He always seems relieved whenever I say that.  "Japanese people too," he says.  Mr. M retired last year and found that while he had a lot of time on his hands, his wife was constantly busy, taking care of the house and doing other projects.  When she announced that she would not be making his lunch everyday, he signed up for a cooking class.  I love how progressive and flexible Mr. M is, especially since other Japanese men don't seem to adapt as well when they realize that being the main breadwinner doesn't necessarily make them the boss at home.  "My wife-y, she has no love for me anymore.  Before we are married, she very nice to me.  But now, nothing.  We have no love between us," bemoaned a teacher at my school after his wife forgot his birthday.  Ah, marriage.

Pumpkin cheese cake