Sunday, March 29--Rites of Spring

Today we took part in a favorite Japanese springtime ritual—the hanami party. As you know, Japan is famous for its sakura, or cherry blossoms, and the natives are as anxious for their appearance as American kids are for Santa Claus. As winter turns to spring, people eagerly await the forecasters' most up-to-date predictions about the blossoms’ peak so they can plan their cherry blossom viewing (hanami) parties. I’m not sure whether the blossoms themselves are the big draw (although around each tree you will see dozens of cell phones raised high in the air to capture an obligatory photo of the fragile blooms) or whether it’s the chance to be outdoors in the sunshine and the fresh air, drinking sake with your friends, after a long, cold winter.

The party we attended was hosted by the staff and students at JMSDF, and though the sun was bright and the air was fresh, there was still a winter nip in the breeze. In fact, it has been so cool the past couple of weeks that only a handful of brave blossoms had opened on the cherry trees at the school. Nevertheless, the festivities went on as planned. There were speeches and toasts as we enjoyed a picnic lunch of curry, tempura, sausages, and fruit. Afterwards, there were games for young and old alike. I noticed that as the children played musical chairs, not a single Japanese kid pouted or cried or threw a fit if he didn’t get a seat, even if he technically got there first and an American brat pushed him off. Times like that make me feel embarrassed about our country’s increasingly bad manners and poor sportsmanship. (I realize that I am painting all Americans with the same brush here, and that not everyone acts this way, but after living eight months in a country where courtesy and respect are so prevalent, misbehavior becomes glaringly obvious. Anytime we have witnessed a scene here, an American has been at the center of it.)

Turns out the Japanese have found a way to improve upon the classic American church-hall game, BINGO. Rather than fussing with special daubers or plastic chips to cover the numbers, the Japanese have BINGO punch cards. Each number is perforated on three sides, so when it is called, the player can poke the numbered flap through to the back side. No mess, no chips to keep track of, and players can be mobile during the game (which was played for about 20 minutes on the same card—this lowers the cost for supplies and provides ample opportunities for winners). As mentioned above, the Japanese are unfailingly courteous, so when a player needs just one more number for BINGO, he shouts, “Reach,” to let the other participants know they are about to lose. Unfortunately, a “reach” does not guarantee a BINGO, and after ten minutes of needing I-20, the game ended with me one number away from a spectacular assortment of prizes.