Japanory

Sogetsu Ikebana - First Certificate

May 2008

(Yes, out of chronological order again, sorry!)

How wonderful! I've passed my first certificate in Ikebana! I haven't had a certificate for anything since I was at school so I'm rather proud of myself. Well, it takes about 3 months to actually receive the certificate but I've finished Book 1 and Sensei has sent off for the paper.

There are twenty lessons in each exercise book; four books to complete before attaining a diploma and then, in theory, I am able to teach this elegant art. I really hope I will have time to complete this. The classes aren't every week and shut down completely throughout the summer so it will be a bit of a trial to find enough time. We'll see.

Books 1 and 2 cover the basics of creating arrangements using the plant materials and containers. Fixing the plants in a shallow basin called a suiban is moribana style and using a kenzan - needle holder. Securing branches and flowers in a tall vase (nageire) is a lot harder and sometimes very unladylike language comes out of my mouth when everything topples out.

Often I don't quite 'get' what I am supposed to do. I think this is a twofold problem; no direct translation from Japanese into English of a specific concept and my lack of a natural Japanese eye for style. But I really enjoy finally being able to arrange a few flowers in an attractive way at long last.

This photo is not one of my creations though, I can only dream of being as good as this.

 

Mini Harajuku Girl - Japanese Day 2008

Wednesday 21^st May 2008

The school's annual Japanese Day is here again.

Parents are invited to join in the big assembly at the start of the day, where we will see performances and our lovely kids.

As it is so hot now, I discouraged Rhiannon from wearing kimono again. She was perfectly happy about this as she remembered from last year how restrictive this outfit was. So this year, she is dressed as a Harajuku girl. As this is how the older Harajuku girls try to look anyway, I didn't think it was at all inappropriate and Rhiannon looked gorgeous, relaxed, cool and happy.

We all file into the hall before the children came down from their classrooms. As it's a hall that belongs to the adjoining Japanese school we have to remove our shoes before entering. Several hundred shoes were abandoned at the entrance! We had no seats so had to stand around the edge of the hall.

We were amazed at the fabulous outfits the children and teachers wore. Many colourful kimonos as usual – it's easy for the girls. But for parents of boys a lot more imagination has to come into play. There were martial arts outfits, a few ninjas and lots of happi coats. Rhiannon's teacher raised a cheer as he bounced in dressed as a Japanese school girl!

The children demonstrated their Japanese language skills in a year by year sing-song. And then we were treated to a performance by a musician from (if I recall correctly) Okinawa. He went on a bit too long, to be honest, but the children were very well behaved and patient.

My camera wasn't up to taking decent photos inside the hall so I won't inflict them on you.

Then the kids returned to their classes for a day of Japanese activities including ikebana and calligraphy.

The parents scrambled to find their shoes in the enormous pile and headed off for coffee. As usual.

Shopping, Cocktail Parties and Credit Card Fraud

Wednesday 12^th March 2008

Why does everything happen when Tim is away? He's off on business again.

I have to go to a cocktail party at the Embassy tonight on my own. Merle, my helper, is to babysit Rhiannon, but I have no intention of being late so she shouldn't be too troubled by Rhiannon playing up.

I fancied a shopping day so went to "my" antique store and bought a lovely granite frog for my garden. As you do!

Real frogs always return to spawn in the pond from which they hatched. So the frog is a symbol to ensure your family always come home to you. I couldn't resist this! 

I'd also paid a visit to Tiffanys and treated myself to some silver trinkets. Can't resist those turquoise boxes either.

A very nice day by my standards!

In the evening I spent a couple of hours self-consciously standing around at the cocktail party before making my escape and got home in time to put Rhiannon to bed, albeit a bit later than she'd normally go.

Did some work on the PC to get a head start on the dreadlines before the Easter Holidays begin.

Then the phone rang. At 1am. Luckily I was still up. I panicked when it rang - it being so late here. Amazing how many dreadful thoughts can run through your mind in a few seconds.

It was my bank.

"Did you make these payments to xxx and xxx for £360 and £750?"

"NO!!!"

Some bastards have taken my credit card details off the internet for the 2nd time in a year. But well done to my fabulous bank for noticing the fraud so quickly. Luckily my bank is run by human beings who are on the ball and they know where I am (apart from thinking about the time difference) and recognise my spending habits… hmm!
 
So, all is well. But for now, I now have no credit card as I had to cut it up, but that's OK considering the past couple of days spending spree!

Kappabashi Shopping Trip

9^th March 2008

Yeah, another one!

I just love this area and the prices are so reasonable compared to the heart of Tokyo. Peggy and I tend to go together as we have almost identical tastes.

We both went for the same bowl (the one Raymi is sleeping in here) but there was only one left in the shop. I deferred to her as she was the one who found it first – just! But she asked the shopkeeper if he had another one in stock.

"Oh yes. of course".

But 'in stock' meant he had to send a runner to his store room several streets away. We waited nearly half an hour – I was going to have to buy it now, wasn't I?

When he returned the two bowls were different blues – one was darker than the other. Secretly I hoped that Peggy would want the darker one so I could have the one she'd found in the shop. She did! So we were both very happy.

We also found a lacquer store where we'd heard the owner didn't like serving gaijin. But we were determined to visit. The reason being we had seen some very cute bento boxes and wanted to get our daughters one each. These aren't small enough for packed-lunch-bento-boxes, but more suited to general meals.

Obviously the person who told us about the grumpy shopkeeper was an awkward gaijin customer (plenty of those around…) as we had absolutely no problems with her at all and came away with one of these gorgeous creations.

As you can see it separates into compartments – rice or soup in the bottom and other foods in the upper layers.

Rhiannon loved it.

Asakusa & Tree Bondage

January 2008

Mum wanted to go on a quick trip back to Asakusa as she remembered there were lots of fabric shops in the alleys around the temple. At home, she has an entire room full of pretty materials and uses them to make all kinds of appliqué things such as pictures and cushion covers. She also makes three dimensional creatures – she once made a dainty white dragon that ended up on the Christmas tree in Buckingham Palace. Not entirely sure how that happened, but she is very good at whatever art or craft she turns her hand to. So she wanted to try and find some off cuts of Japanese kimono fabric. She did and was very happy.

Whilst there, we discovered a rather fabulous stationery shop: not your standard stationery, this contained lots of Japanese woodblock prints, reams of washi paper and some pre-framed blank paper ready for calligraphy. Mum spent ages in there and bought some of the latter to experiment with her botanical watercolours.

It was a bit too busy for me so I came outside to snap a couple of photos while I waited for her.

Then I spotted this incredibly intricately roped tree.

What on earth was that all about? It certainly wasn't anything to do with Bonsai. Yes, they do manipulate large trees into stylised shapes too, as you can see through the ropes. But this rope wasn't moving the branches anywhere. The branches were trapped in a kind of roped cage. Tree bondage? Very strange. It took me a very long time to find out the answer.But what an incredible work of art!

Can you work out what it is for? (the answer is below)

 

 

Further below...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keep scrolling!!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

This is called yukitsuri. Yuki means snow and tsuri means suspension. It's to protect the branches of the tree from breaking off under the weight of snow. Something we don't get much of in Tokyo (so far!)

Tattoo in Japan – part 3 (I think)

January 10^th 2008

So it's time to get my cover-up mentioned here finished once and for all. The ground work was done with some colouring in of the main arm piece and now it's time to finish it all off in one go.

I've decided to add a bit to it so that it runs over my shoulder and across my back. I like the curlicues the tattoo artist has put into to the design so this will be continued to include a name…

Oh no! The first rule of getting a tattoo is not to ink a name into your skin. After all, who knows the future? Obviously someone should never have the name of their partner, favourite rock band or celebrity tattooed on them – how crass.

But this is to be my daughter's name. Whatever happens in the future, she will always be my darling daughter. The text is somewhat disguised, too.

Another 4 or 5 hours under the needle passes in a flash – the conversation, as ever is stimulating and completely fascinating. He chooses music he knows I like too, so we discuss bands, history, politics… everything, you name it, we've probably chatted about it.

Because it's a cover-up he doesn't photograph it to include in his album but sent me the photos anyway.

Tattoo in Japan - and a Side Trip to Bolivia

Thursday 15^th November 2007

It's time for another visit to my lovely tattoo artist.

We'll be finishing the cover-up in January, but in the meantime there is a design I've wanted as a tattoo for a very long time. You'd better get some of the "back story".

Let me take you away from Tokyo for a while...

Way back in 1996, when I was young(ish), free and single I backpacked around the western coast of South America for about 4 months. It was my second visit to this, my favourite country in the world. My first visit was a month in the jungles of Venezuela in '94.

After visiting Costa Rica, Venezuela, Ecuador, The Galapagos and Peru, I finally ended up in Bolivia where I paid a visit to the amazing ruins of Tiahuanaco.

While there, I had, what can only be described as a spiritual experience. I cannot put it into words - it's all a bit weird - but it was a fantastic place and the entire trip was one of the best times of my life.

Fast forward to December 1999. I was working in the delightful city of Florence, Italy; living in a romantic old, typical Florentine apartment overlooking the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore - the Duomo.

One day, I passed a sign advertising an exhibition of objet d'art from Tiahuanaco! Of course I went. And still felt the same spiritual connection to the place.

I spotted a smooth stone recovered from the area, and on it was a spiral design that caught my attention immediately.

Scrabbling around in my handbag for a note book, I scribbled the design down and kept it with me for the next 8 years - through two major house moves, meeting Tim, childbirth and of course, to Tokyo.

Luckily, my tattoo guy was able to translate my dire drawing into the perfect tattoo.

The spiral represents the spiral of life - according to my Aymaran guide at Tiahuanaco - although many other meanings are attached to it.

I just love it. And I love the way it's been interpreted as a gentle piece of skin art.

It's on the base of my neck.

 

 

Japanese Symbols and a Brilliantly Timed Flashback

November 2007

I went to a little antique shop in Azabu Juban for a look-see.

They had a lot of very reasonably priced articles as well as some completely incredible and very old antiques – some dating as far back as the very early Edo era 1615-1868, possibly even the Azuchi-Momoyama period 1568-1615. With prices that had too many 0's to count. These were museum quality and therefore behind glass.

The cheaper items were obviously meant for daily use and many had a little damage or could be considered "seconds" with kiln marks or mis-painted patterns.

A couple of elderly ladies were in the shop and were happy to show me around, but spoke no English. I was in a phase of trying to identify certain extremely stylised symbols incorporated into the porcelain. We got on well with items such as "sakura" – cherry blossom, "ume" – plum blossom, "tsuru" – crane and "koi"… well, I think you know that one!

With some hysterical sign language they explained a pattern based on octopus tentacles, "tako-karakusa". (Further research tells me this is actually now considered to be a plant called the Octopus Vine). And taught me a load of Japanese names for other common symbols too.

We had a great time, and they wanted to learn the English for these words, so we went around the shop with me doing the teaching – as far as I could recognise the pictures. "This is a crane, this one is a plover, here's bamboo and pine. Oh, this is a cloud." When we came to koi, they were surprised and delighted that we use that word in English too. They diligently made notes and we had a wonderful time.

Then we came a bit unstuck. The symbol on a pretty plate was quite clearly a chrysanthemum. As Japan's national flower this appears regularly and is very recognisable.

"Aha", said I, "This is a chrysanthemum"… producing very blank looks and a lot of discussion between them. They obviously had never heard the word before in their lives. I recalled Mum mentioning a confusion when discussing the national flower with some Japanese people at an art exhibition. Again, the word was unrecognisable to them.

Suddenly from the depths of my mind came a vision of a bilious yellow perfume set from the 1970's (my parents owned a pharmacy where I spent a lot of time as a child). It had the same symbol on it. What was it called?? I wracked my distant memory and somehow it popped back.

Oh yes… "Kiku!" I exclaimed rather triumphantly.

"Ahhhh, Kiku!" they said, somewhat relieved. Then one of them trotted behind the counter, returning with an electronic translating machine commonly used here (see my previous post about how many kanji they have to learn!)

They typed in "kiku" and jumped back in horror at the word in English. Valiantly they tried to pronounce it, but all those consonants together proved too much for them.

 

You see, the Japanese language, whether written or spoken, has a vowel between each consonant. My last name is pronounced "Harretto Mobb-us".

You can understand why chrysanthemum was a little too much for them with five consonants in a row!

Children’s Hall and Children’s Castle

November 2007

Each ward in Tokyo has a place called the Children's Hall. Entrance is free and is an activity based centre where children of all ages can join in various activities. For example, there is a music room where children can experiment with all kinds of instruments; a few arts and crafts areas where a different project is available on a daily basis. These are wonderful places. And, as I say FREE!

As an aside, entrance fees to all attractions, museums and so on here are extremely cheap if not free. When we go back to the UK during the summer we are astounded at the outrageous prices charged to gain entry to theme parks etc.

Although the areas are supervised, the children are encouraged and expected to just get on with it rather than be hovered over by their parents. Parent who hover and fuss over their kids are viewed as a bit odd, to be honest!

I highly approve of this. The first time Rhiannon went there she made something from wood (I can't recall what) but she was expected to use a hammer and saw – at the age of five. And this wasn't considered a problem for the health and safety brigade. This is the way kids should learn. I really think, in general, we pamper "our" (ie British) children too much these days.

Children's Castle is pretty much the same set up. It's called Kodomo-no-Shiro. As well as the activities on separate floors there is a large climbing gym, a computer playroom and a teen corner with table tennis. There's also a swimming pool. Children's Hall is more geared to younger children.

When we go now (2010), I sit in the rather sparse canteen and drink tins of coffee and do some research, study or read while Rhiannon runs all over the 6 floors partaking in whatever activity takes her fancy and making friends on the way.

The school had a little trip to the Children's Hall this month and learned a bit about another culture. I admit, my memory is not working this far on, and I can't recall which culture was being taught then. Anyway, she had a great time.

We still like going there.

Although I do get a bit bored after more than three hours sitting on uncomfortable chairs.

But it's free! Did I already say that?

Picking Pearls at the Polynesian Cultural Centre

After dinner, we had to do some shopping of course!

Something that really caught my eye was a stall near the exit where you could choose an oyster for a few dollars, have it opened with due ceremony, and keep the pearl guaranteed to be inside. This turned out to be horribly addictive! I can highly recommend it – but do exercise restraint – having the pearls set can turn out to be rather expensive… It's called Maui Divers Pick a Pearl.

As the blurb from the website says – "the excitement starts when you select an oyster from an assortment presented to you. Anticipation builds during the ritual Aloha blessing of the chosen oyster. Then, the magical moment: a luminescent jewel emerges when the oyster is opened before you." Even though I knew it to be a given that there would be a pearl inside, Rhiannon was completely entranced.

The sales people were extremely skilled too – when you get your first pearl, you're offered a draw ticket, which amazingly enough entitles you to another FREE oyster. YIPPEEEE!! Only this next oyster contains TWO pearls ('coincidentally' in matching colours to the first pearl) and obviously intended for earrings.

And so it continued… we ended up having to set 11 pearls. No, I don't know when to stop! All my pearls were black and Rhiannon's were peachy pink.

As Rhiannon doesn't have her ears pierced, I pocketed the twin peach pearls with the intention of having them set in a necklace for her as a surprise. I knew that the shopping mall in town had a stall which did this so managed to set them before the holiday finished. When I presented the necklace to her at Christmas she was so thrilled she actually cried! Awww!

Hawaii - part 2

One of our big day trips was to the Polynesian Cultural Center. This is a sort of theme park without the roller-coasters that showcases the various cultures that make up Polynesia – New Zealand (Aotearoa), Fiji, Hawaii, Easter Island (Rapa Nui), Samoa, Tahiti, Tonga and others.

Very much geared towards children as well as adults, there were plenty of activities for Rhiannon to enjoy. The "countries" are set out in "villages" and you follow a trail to each one. Once at the "village" there are people there dressed in their traditional clothing and showcasing their culture and skills. For example, in the New Zealand village, we learned how to whirl balls on ropes around without knocking herself out. Poi balls – these were great fun and we bought a pair home with us which we still play with. We also played a game with sticks which was originally used to help hand-eye co-ordination for warriors. 

Rhiannon also had the opportunity to "fish" at one point on the route – using a bent paperclip on a length of string baited with a ball of stale bread. Being Rhiannon, she actually caught one! The tiny tiddler managed to get trapped in the loop of the paper clip – apparently nobody had ever caught a fish here before! Let's hope Rhiannon's luck continues like this throughout her life.

I was intrigued to discover that this lavish place was created by Scientologists  Mormons – in fact one could take a special train to their church some distance away. We didn't.

A colourful display was put on in the afternoon with watercraft full of people "from" the relevant countries sailing up the river. Lots of music, dancing and all in all the day out was a fascinating and vibrant experience. (More babble after a load of pictures of the parade)

We had dinner there too (well, it was all included in the rather high price). The hall was enormous and we had to eat at a set time; it seemed like thousands of Americans were there too. We were placed at a long table with a number of other people, ate pretty bland food and watched a show from a great distance.

All the people we met were absolutely astounded to meet Brits in Hawaii. It's a heck of a trip to make from the UK, but not so bad from Japan.

Apart from Work, Work, Work…

October 2007

Although I am incredibly busy with work, I do manage to make time to attend a couple of classes. Not language training, sadly – this requires too many hours for me to commit to.

Of course I continue with my Ikebana. I've got the bit between my teeth now and am really enjoying myself. Finally, I can make flowers look pretty in the vase!

Also, I went to a Cloisonné enamelling class which was rather fun and left me with a very amateur pendant and a small, rather attractive but ultimately useless pill box; and a yearning to get my own kiln!

Another "class" I went on was a field trip to an antique Imari porcelain shop. Well, I say "shop" but after meeting the group at Shibuya station (a miracle in itself!) several changes of Metro followed by a bus journey and a long walk, we ended up climbing a couple of flights of stairs in an anonymous tower block to a room containing a fine selection of small items.

The other members of the small group were all American and snapped up some interesting (to them) cups. They were made for the export market and if you held the cup to the light, the gently carved face of a geisha shone through the translucent china. They were marked "Made in Occupied Japan". Ouch!

The others pretty much swept the shelves clear, grabbing everything they could – especially the most expensive stuff. But for relatively little outlay, I managed to snag a nice little cup with paintings of Susuki - Japanese pampas grass - which is a favourite theme of mine, a nice rice bowl with circular emblems and a dinky little plate with unusual markings.

I am pleased with my little collection and even more so when the owner of the shop told the leader that out of all the buys, mine were the best and classiest choices.

Me smug? Yeah, a little bit!

Shopping – Antiques and Japanese Screens

2^nd October – 3^rd October 2007

After our regular Tuesday coffee morning we all take a trip in Peggy's large car to a shop she's found called Yamamoto Antiques. This is not just a shop; this is an emporium of wondrous items from true antique tansus to modern replicas via second hand relatively modern chairs, clocks, coffee tables and beautiful porcelain hibachi. Items are piled on top of each other from floor to ceiling and sometimes it's hard to actually find a way through this large store. I can highly recommend a visit! One of the stranger items I discovered in this maze-like shop was an old British telephone – one of the dial ones just like we used to have in the "olden days".

On this occasion I didn't purchase anything but I went back on another occasion with Tim and we bought a small modern tansu which ended up being commandeered for Rhiannon's extensive art materials.

Then on Wednesday, Peggy and I make a trip to a very special shop on Omotesando, Fuji Tori. I was on a mission. For many years I have wanted to own a screen. And Fuji Tori sells screens – amongst many other beautiful Japanese items. I love this shop. One of the reasons we made our regular coffee mornings on a Tuesday was that Fuji Tori is not open on Tuesdays therefore saving me a weekly spending spree!

As I have visited this shop many times, the owner, Naohiro Kurihara, treats me as a valued customer and seems to admire my appreciation of Japanese art. He flatters me, telling me I have "black eyes" meaning I see the art as a Japanese person, not a gaijin. It's a fantastic ploy to encourage sales! He writes a column in one of the English language papers here and showed me some of them, including a picture of how Omotesando used to look – no shops!

Here is an excerpt from an article written about him:

Mr. Naohiro Kurihara is the proprietor of Fuji-Torii, a Japanese artworks and antiques shop located next to Kiddy Land, Omotesando. The shop was established in 1949, some 60 years ago. He has long watched the changes taking place in Omotesando. We interviewed him.

Before World War II, my father had a store in Ginza. After the war, he moved and started his business here. Harajuku was originally a "temple town" in front of the shrine. But the town burned to the ground during the war.

The area of Yoyogi Park, the south side of Meiji Shrine, was once a parade ground for the Japanese Imperial Army. After the war, the place was requisitioned by the occupation GHQ, and they built the Washington Heights housing area for the Occupation forces. Each residence was for a high-ranking officer and it had a broad lawn and a nice house, and this brought many customers to our store, so we often visited the place by delivery truck. I was only a child at that time.

Kiddy Land, next to us, was a foreign bookstore, but the store also started to carry quite sophisticated toys as foreign customers had often asked them if they dealt with toys, which they wanted to buy for their children. The place where the GAP store is now located used to be Central Apartments. There were many restaurants such as Italian, steak house, Chinese, Philippine. These restaurants also catered to Americans living in Washington Heights.

In 1964, when the Tokyo Olympics were held, the Washington Heights site was returned to Japan. Later, the media started reporting about small apparel makers in the area. Gradually, Harajuku began to draw attention as the city's latest fashion center. Beams, one of the well-known apparel makers, was there at that time. Takeshita-dori Street used to have many shops carrying reasonably-priced clothes for import and export. Years ago shops owned by TV "talents" were popular. Harajuku is a popular tourist spot for school trips from all over Japan. In the 1990s, after the so-called "bubble economy" burst, the number of shops managed by foreign-affiliated companies began to increase. "Ura-Hara" ? the small alleys that comprise "backstreet Harajuku" ? attracts fashion-conscious young people these days. Harajuku has been continually and dramatically changing for the past 60 years. Maybe, only our shop still exists among those shops which were open 60 years ago.

In the winter of 1971, I remember we enjoyed skiing the next day after a big snowfall. I guess people hearing this today would think it was unbelievable.

Omotesando in the early 1970's

Omotesando today

 

 

 

 

 

 

In my head, I have an idea of the type of screen I want – something gold with possibly bamboo on it. I love bamboo. I don't want people or scenery.

Peggy and I take a seat, accept the offer of green tea and watch while screens are displayed in front of us. Screens of all sizes and colours soon surround us but still nothing shouts "take ME home". Incredible paintings of branches of plum or cherry blossom stretch across the panels; the bamboo doesn't seem quite right somehow and gaudy flower carts don't appeal to me at all. The gold seems too… gold, too over-the-top, too bright. We are there for a good couple of hours looking, discussing and dismissing. The screens are all hand-painted by professional artists so each one is different.

Then, ever patient, the assistant brought out one I had specifically said I didn't want – scenery. Instantly I fell in love. The gold is a soft colour – not as garish as some of the others. The painting is exquisite, subtle yet strong and compelling. I feel I can look at it for hours. This information is copied from a similar screen on the Fuji Tori website:

"A four-panel folding screen made of multi-layered Washi paper pasted onto a wooden frame.  The background is finished with square gold leaves put on to the Washi, over which beautiful silk is stretched. Tranquillity is expressed in this waterside landscape depicting a pagoda and pine trees, painted in Sumi-ink and light coloured paint.Borders of silk brocade and a black lacquered frame tone up the entire work.  The artist's signature is on the bottom right." The artist is a woman called Sazanami Suzuki.

Entirely happy, I bought it. It was packed in a wooden box with special hangers if I want to hang it on the wall, and then gift-wrapped as is normal here in Japan.

I have enjoyed gazing at the beautifully peaceful scene every day since. The perfect choice!

Quick Round up to Finish September 2007

Oh lord, I am NEVER going to get this blog finished am I? Ah well, I can but try my best.

 

Tim and I start making decorations for Rhiannon's party. This involves trips to the fabulous Tokyu Hands to buy huge pieces of cardboard to cut out fish and other undersea creatures. An international supermarket called National Azabu has an upper floor selling all kinds of decorations so I invest in several miles of sea-coloured streamers, many packets of balloons and a series of party bag fillers.

Out of the blue, Tim arrived home one day with a 6 foot long inflatable Orca. As you do! We will suspend this from the ceiling of the hall.

We plan a set of activities with the intention of rotating groups of kids around the room. Pin the necklace on Ariel, face-painting, decorating mini-buckets, food, dancing and so on. I create a playlist on my Zen MP3 player and make sure the thing works with the PA system. It does. Goodo!

Everything seems to be going well in this respect. Apart from some people not RSVP-ing. This does irritate me – apart from manners, we need to have their details for the security guards on the gate to the area where the party will be held. I also need to know how many goody bags to make, so I email everyone who hasn't replied thus far and get all but one to reply – most are coming, which is fabulous! I have to assume the person that didn't respond won't be coming.

I have a hair appointment for a recolour. This takes AGES! But well worthwhile. My hair is extremely strong and resists bleach so it takes several attempts to get it light enough to take the cerise colour. But I'm very happy with the result… after four hours!

Rhiannon has joined Rainbows, but it really doesn't suit her at all. In general she just doesn't "get it" and I can't see her staying long, but we were in the waiting list for ages so we'll continue for now. There are a couple of girls who steal from her which required a nice chat to all concerned. This parenting lark is bloody hard work sometimes.

Friday mornings are a slog to get Rhiannon to gymnastics at 7.45 am, but the team who run it are absolutely fantastic and I can recommend them to anyone in Tokyo – it's ICan Gymnastics – run by the extremely charismatic and capable Mr Lee. Sadly the school has no gym equipment so all the kids can do is learn to tumble, which is good in itself, but not worth getting up at silly o'clock for. We look into getting her into other clubs with more equipment.

Saturday is a run-around with Aikido in the morning and a kid's party in the afternoon. While Tim and I have coffee in Starbuck I manage to not put the top on the coffee cup properly after putting in my 16 bags of sugar… a litre of hot coffee all over me. And I'm wearing cream trousers. Lovely.

I'm writing a Tokyo Tales article about something that I decided would be good with a photo of Maneki Neko - the "Beckoning Cat" so arranged these teeny ornaments for a photo that I don't actually recall using! They are about 1.5cm high.

 

And here is a gratuitous photo of a somewhat larger Raymi!

 

Imari Porcelain and Kyodai… aka SHOPPING!

Tuesday 25^th September 2007

After our regular "girls coffee morning" - enormous Latte, breakfast and a gossip at Starbucks, Peggy and I take a trip to a wonderful little antique shop I've discovered. Okura Oriental Art is a tiny little room situated just off a main road near Roppongi. I can't emphasise just how tiny the shop is (the pictures on the website are of a mysterious display building somewhere or taken with a very wide-angle lens). You have to be very careful just moving around in there in case you knock something ancient and beautiful off of a cabinet.

Antique tansus (chest of drawers and cupboards) are display cabinets for porcelain and storage for miscellany. These stunning tansu are also for sale. I wish I could get one, but sadly the terms of our stay here mean we are not allowed to ship any furniture. All our furniture in the house is rented and we gave away most of our furniture in the UK.

But there are many, small items I covet.

My soft spot is, and always has been, blue and white ceramics, pottery, porcelain - call it what you will - but here is the home of the best blue and white in the world. Imari.

The owner speaks English to a certain degree, and I have been doing my research, so we get along very well.

I am entranced by the numerous symbols of Japan. Stylised and zen-like brushstrokes take the painting of these icons to a subtle, yet strong level.

We spent a happy hour or so exploring this fascinating shop and I made my first foray into what would come a bit of an obsession. I bought the soba choku pictured above. This is a small cup that's filled with sauce to dip soba noodles in. It's about 6cm high. To my amazement I'm told that this delicate piece of porcelain is over 200 years old! In a land regularly shaken by so many earthquakes, how can something like this survive so long?

Periods of Japan are named depending upon the Emperor or Emperors ruling at the time. Most antiques here are from the following dates:

1603 - 1867 is the Edo era, generally sorted into 'early', 'mid' or 'late', without a particular date to these names. Tokyo used to be called Edo. For much of this period, Japan was completely closed to the rest of the world, allowing the arts and crafts to evolve in their own special and particular way. In 1854 the Japanese government was forced to open some port in order to trade with the world.
1868 - 1912 - the Meiji era.
1912 - 1926 - the Taisho era.
1926 - 1989 - the Showa era.
And, for reference, from 1989 to now, the Heisei era. But of course, no antiques from this one - yet!

So I guess my little cup is from the late Edo period - around 1807. Wow!

I also like boxes. Not sure why, but as the saying goes - what do you give someone who has everything? A box to put it all in! By no stretch of the imagination do I have "everything", but perhaps I am saving these boxes for when I do? I'm working on it!

Numerous little boxes exist in this shop. Suzuribako - inkstone boxes for storing calligraphy equipment, inbako - stamp boxes. I don't know what sort of stamps, but they have little compartments inside. Haribako are sewing boxes with an upright fixture. The small box at the top housed a pincushion and is thought to have acted as an extra 'hand' when sewing kimono.

It's hard to decide what to treat myself too. But then I spied the cutest little box with a hidden secret. 

When closed, it looks like a plain box, but lift up the front and there's a mirror! It's called a kyodai and is a dressing table box. At just 22cm high, this is the perfect size.

 

 

"Kore kudasai" ("I'll take this, please" - one of the first phrases I learned…!)

More than pleased with my visit and purchases, I head home happy and educated. Retail therapy is the best! It is, unfortunately, more expensive than a regular therapist, but it works for me! And you don't need to do it regularly. Allegedly.

This shop becomes "my" personal heaven over the next few years, so look out for more shopping posts to come!

Tattoo in Tokyo

Friday 21^st September 2007

I've mentioned my tattoos in a previous post. Now here's a bit more detail.

After several discussions and meetings with a tattooist recommended to me, I have decided on a way of getting my unsatisfactory piece sorted out. He's a true artist and a fabulous character.

There are very few pictures of me, so this is the only one I can find of the original. It's the Nazca Lines tree surrounded by an intertwined Celtic dragon and a snake.

This is what it looked like before it was coloured in, I should have just left it like that but I didn't.

 

After the tattooist in the UK coloured it in so badly.

 

 

 

 

My appointment is at 11am but before I can go and be 'me', I have to be 'mum' and attend the class assembly mentioned here. It all went well and I managed to whizz home, leave the car and catch a cab to the studio.

It will take a couple of sessions of about 4 hours each to sort it out.

We got on like a house on fire and the time just flew by accompanied by enervating chat about religion, politics and music.

I got back in time to do the school run wrapped in clingfilm. Rhiannon helped me clean it up and apply the ointment, bless her. She was very gentle, but I don't feel the pain really.

Next appointment on 15^th November.

Painted Lady - more tattoos

Woo Hoo! I've finally finished May 2007!

I thought I'd just pop this in here after talking about tattoos in the previous post.

A friend of mine recently asked me to write a guest post on her
blog called Typecast which I've copied here - the original link can be found at the end of this post.

 

I like tattoos. No, scrap that. I LOVE tattoos.

My fascination with skin art started many years before they became so commonplace that every man, woman and dog has one. Nowadays it seems non-tattooed people are rarer than the decorated.

 

I resisted the urge to get tattooed until I turned thirty. Choosing the perfect indelible design for me took a long time. Finally a particularly nasty boyfriend, whom I had trouble getting rid of, said he’d leave me if I got a tattoo. So I promptly booked my appointment with a local studio in south London and waved the vicious boyfriend off.  

My first tattoo was a peacock on my left shoulder blade. I was inordinately proud of it and showed it off as often as I could.

There’s a saying that once you’ve got your first tattoo, you will get more.

Some years later I went to Hong Kong on a business trip. Fuelled by alcohol and a defiant need to shock my strait-laced colleagues, I got my second tattoo. We visited a famous but rather seedy parlour late one night. While my friends looked at the pictures on the walls, I plonked myself down and had my Chinese star sign inked onto my ankle. That one hurt like hell due to it being on a bone. But it was worth it just to see my friends’ faces. Frankly, a pretty poor reason to get a tattoo!

 

 

Number three was created in Thailand. This was a completely different experience. For a start, no rebelliousness was involved. It produced my favourite piece of all. I followed customer recommendations rather than picking a random studio. The artist interviewed me first before allowing me to make an appointment. At the appointment, he just drew a design directly onto my arm, I made some changes and off he drilled for about three hours.

 

The bug (and ink) was well and truly in my system now.

 

But life intervened. I had a baby, and my beloved Dad died.

My head was all over the place and some madness prompted me get a tattoo on my other arm. I designed it myself and it included a lot of personal symbolism. Unfortunately, the tattooist was no artist. The outline was just about OK but I should never have asked him to colour it in. It was a disaster and for the first time I regretted my tat. Do not get a tattoo when you are grieving.

 

Then my husband got a job transfer to Japan. The home of beautiful tattooing! But also a country with the greatest taboos about skin art. 

Before we left the UK, I found another tattooist for ink number five - a colourful compass on my right foot meaning “a step in the right direction”. But I wouldn’t recommend enclosing foot tattoos in shoes and socks while packing up your entire house. It got badly infected and I ended up taking strong antibiotics for a while.

Once in Japan I quickly discovered my decorated skin was not appreciated. One man verbally attacked me about the Chinese writing on my ankle. He seemed satisfied that I knew its meaning. I’m also not allowed into public swimming pools or gyms. I can live with that. What does sadden me is that I am not allowed to go into onsen, the natural hot spring pools that Japan is famous for. Tattoos here are a sign of the Yakuza, organised gangs. It makes no difference that I am a Caucasian female; tattoos are “bad”.

 

However, there are plenty of tattooists around. I’ve found a fantastic, gifted artist who entertains me with intellectual discussions and wonderful artistry. Yes, I’ve had more work done… 

 

He spent a total of about ten hours blacking in my disastrous tattoo and adding decorations to it so I’m no longer ashamed of it. I also broke the golden rule of skin art - “do not have a name tattooed on you”. But as it’s my daughter’s name I will never regret it.

 

 

The last piece I had done was another of strong symbolic significance to me, a spiral at the base of my neck, pictured at the beginning of this post.

 
Am I finished at seven tattoos? Of course not! I’ve just booked another appointment with him to have more work done.

 

The only difficulty now is deciding where to place it.

 

My thanks to Nickie at Typecast for allowing me to be her guest.
Here's the link to the original post on her blog.

http://typecast2000.blogspot.com/2010/07/painted-lady.html 

How to Wear a Kimono…

Wednesday 23^rd May 2007

Today, school is having its annual Japanese Day. The kids dress up as something typically Japanese and participate in various cultural activities such as Ikebana, Sho-do (Japanese calligraphy) and origami.

The note from school made comment upon the types of outfits the children could wear - presumably to get more variety and imagination. Suggestions include manga characters (I have no idea about these and no real interest to be frank), aikido Gi, and various uniforms worn by most workers in Japan.

However, a five year old girl is, of course, going to want to wear a kimono.

Rhiannon has a nice little souvenir-type of "kimono" which will do. Despite her protestations that she wants a Real Kimono, they cost a huge amount of money, so the answer is a firm "no"! I did buy some tabi - little white socks with a separate toe so they fit the zori. Zori are shoes with a wedge-type heel (shown on the left).

Geta (below right) are another type of sandal that has either a separate heel or blocks of wood at each end. The latter look impossible to walk in and are commonly worn by men in traditional clothing. I have actually seen men riding scooters wearing these!

I also bought a gold "obi". Again, this isn't the real thing but will certainly do for a small girl for what is, essentially, a fancy dress day. A real obi is the wide belt that wraps twice around the body and then tied at the back in an incredibly complex knot. Formal obi for women measure 4 metres long and 30cm wide and are made of silk brocade, often heavily embroidered. Young girls tie their obi in a butterfly bow, while older or married women use a simpler fold called a taiko because it is drum shaped. Like men's bow-ties, you can now buy pre-tied obi apparently.

Now, bearing in mind that we are in Japan, attending a school with many children of Japanese descent, I'm worried that I will not get the dress right. There are very specific rules to wearing this beautiful outfit and I am terrified about getting it wrong and offending someone. Getting properly dressed in the full regalia is extremely complicated and people can take classes on how to put on a kimono. There are also professional dressers for hire.

So I spent a LOT of time researching and reading about the subject. Absolutely fascinating!

We got up early in the morning to get Rhiannon ready. I was pretty sure she wouldn't want to wear the outfit all day. Plus running around at break time… so I made sure she had shorts and a t-shirt on underneath for the inevitable disrobing. I pinned up her flyaway hair with about 100 clips and consulted my book for the correct way to wrap the kimono… wrap the right side of the kimono over the body, then the left side wraps over the top. Right on top of left is only used to dress a corpse for burial.

So I checked and double checked. All good. Added the "obi" and tied it in a wonky bow (I've never been able to tie a nice straight bow), and put the belt of her kimono over the top of the obi. I was rather pleased with my efforts.

 

So off we went to school to be greeted by the striking sight of hundreds of little girls in colourful kimonos, looking like a rainbow of butterflies, but much louder. Such a beautiful change from their normal dull navy uniform. The boys were wearing a range of Happi coats and aikido gi, but the girls stole the day.

Then I saw my good friend Yoko and her daughter Natalie, my heart leapt into my mouth.

Oh my god! Natalie's kimono was wrapped the opposite way to Rhiannon's. Had I made a huge mistake? If anyone should know the correct way of wearing this, it would be Yoko, being pure Japanese and having studied her culture too. Yikes!!! So I asked her.

Laughing, she shrugged and said she'd always had someone dress her in kimono so hadn't taken much notice. She didn't know which way round and besides, she was running late and didn't notice.

 

I think I may have taken this a bit too seriously! But the research I did was interesting and absorbing and provided material for one of my Tokyo Tales articles.

At the end of the school day I collected a very dishevelled Rhiannon. It's already pretty hot here at this time of year, so although she was still wearing her kimono and obi, she was all disarrayed and extremely hot. She said "my tummy was too hot in the obi and I wouldn't want to wear this all the time! I couldn't run properly and my legs get tangled up".

The major highlight of her day was this:
"There's a MAN teacher in year one and he dressed up in a PINK kimono and had a pink wig too!!! He's really funny and I hope he's my teacher next year!"

 

(Note - Rhiannon attended a State school in the UK for a couple of months where there were no male teachers at all. She genuinely did not know that men could be teachers. I've spoken to other friends with children in the UK school system and they all say the same - there are few, if any, male teachers. What a sad reflection of the UK society that men no longer feel safe in a teaching environment. I fondly remember many of my male teachers - mostly for their eccentricity, sometimes for their teaching. How things have changed. And not in a good way.)

Sogetsu Ikebana

Monday 14^th May 2007

Today is a ME day. Well, I deserve it after last week…

Unfortunately it is also half term. For some ridiculous reason, this half term is only two days long, when the children are exhausted and could really do with a week off.

Tim's taken the day off work so Rhiannon will be spoiled rotten and will have a lovely day with Dad - at Disneyland again... while I spoil me.

It's my first Ikebana lesson today and I'm very nervous. It's held at the Tokyo Union Church Women's Society in Omotesando and starts at 10am. Tim needs the car so I catch the bus and hop off at Harajuku to walk down the road to Omotesando.

The church room the class is held in is obviously a children's classroom too, and the walls are decorated with painted stained glass windows and quotes from the bible. I felt very out of place. Until a wonderfully outgoing, warm and friendly Texan lady called Maria walked in and made me feel very welcome. Over the next couple of years, she became a very good friend and always brightened up the lessons with her repartee. The other members of the class were very genteel Japanese ladies so Maria and I often reduced ourselves to giggles with muffled swearing when branches fell out of the vase and so on.

Our Sensei appeared. Yoka Hosono is a Master Instructor of the Sogetsu Headquarters and a very famous lady in the Ikebana world. She travels the globe giving talks and demonstrations, even though she isn't very young. She will not reveal her age; she looks about fifty but is actually rather older than that - apparently.

I am told to buy a text book and a pair of snippers. For today, she lends me hers, but has come prepared with a new text book.

Although she teaches me and Maria in heavily accented English, there are times when she lapses into Japanese, especially when there is no readily available English alternative. It's terribly confusing.

She hands me a newspaper wrap of branches and three flowers and points to page one of the book. Page one is at the back of the book - because this is japan and everything is back to front.

There's another American woman student who demands Sensei's attention for every cut of a plant. Which means Sensei leaves me to make my first attempt with minimal assistance! EEEK!! I have NO idea what I'm doing at all. Maria points me in the direction of the vase cupboard, kenzan (needlepoint holders) and water and gives me a few hints and tips.

After an hour or so, I have a pretty passable copy of the picture in the book although I feel there are far too many flowers stuffed in there for Ikebana. I'd always pictured this discipline as minimalist.

(Apologies for the photo - I haven't got to grips with fading out the background. But this was my first Ikebana arrangement so it needed a prosperity picture)

 
Sensei is delighted with it! Apparently I have "a gift and an eye". I am absolutely amazed and rather pleased with myself. She also said it "looks like an English country garden". Oh. Not quite my intention, but she meant it as a compliment. So if she's happy, then so am I.

She's also rather taken with my looks as I'm not a "normal Sogestu student". At this point, my hair was pink, by the way, so I can see her point! Another source of fun for her is to compare her diminutive stature to my six foot frame…

Class over, it's time to reluctantly dismantle my arrangement and plod back up the road to catch the bus. But on the way, I visit a nearby Ikebana shop for a suiban - flat basin for flower arrangements, snippers and a kenzan, so I can attempt to redo the flowers at home. It's a gorgeous shop so I also bought a few more vases and a special bag to carry my flowers in.

On the return bus journey an elderly gentleman struck up a conversation with me and explained that Sogetsu means Sun, Moon and Earth. He congratulated me on starting this course and urged me to continue. I certainly intend to!

My "Me" afternoon continued with a rather fabulous facial treatment at Boudoir where I was treated by the beautiful Australian boss.

A lovely day :-D

Golden Week 2007

May 2007

Golden Week is a week of public holidays in Japan. This is a very busy time and one does not want to travel anywhere unless absolutely necessary. Unless you are a hard-working Japanese person who has no other holidays to look forward to. The public holidays making up Golden Week are; Showa Day on the 29th of April, Constitution Day on the 3rd May, Greenery Day on 4th May and Children's Day on the 5th. Or something like that - as far as I can tell, public holidays here are pretty flexible and can take in extra days to make this week easier to manage.

The British School in Tokyo don't recognise it as a holiday, so it's school run as usual - apart from the lack of traffic. And the British Embassy only closes for a couple of days, so Tim has a bit of work before some time off.

I'm getting into a nice little routine now. Each Tuesday, after the kids have been dropped off at school, Peggy, Yoko, Deborah and I meet for coffee and chat at Starbucks near Omotesando. It's a lovely custom and I really enjoy the opportunity to chat to adults and learn about the different cultures and interest of Peggy (Indonesian) and Yoko (Japanese). Deb is a Brit, like me. Our kids have regular playdates too. We've chosen Tuesdays for our regular meet because one of my favourite shops is closed on that day, therefore saving me a lot of money!

Sometimes we wander around Omotesando after coffee. This is a particularly upmarket shopping street in Tokyo with all the designer shops lined up one after the other: Chanel, Gucci, Celine, Chopard, Louis Vuitton, Missoni, et al. As well as Kiddyland - a cornucopia of mayhem. It's a children's toy store and is always heaving with teens looking for the latest kawaii trend. The other main attraction here is Oriental Bazaar - a Mecca for all tourists to Japan. Once you've been here a while, you realise it's pretty much all overpriced tat but for now, it's a fascinating place full of typical Japanese gifts. I've bought a couple of antique obi from there which hang on my walls and it's an ideal place to find English books about Japanese culture.

The shop I love best is FujiTori which is the one that's closed on Tuesdays… I've spent quite a few hours in there chatting to the charming owner who seems impressed with my choices and recently acquired knowledge (through avid reading) on all kinds of Japanese arts and crafts. He compliments me on my "black eyes", meaning I see beauty in the Japanese way and understand the culture. No wonder I spend so much in there!

Fairy Letters

While I'm composing the next post (and digging around in my diary for notes!) please take a moment to visit my website http://www.dearfairies.com where you can order unique and personalised letters from the Fairies. An ideal gift for any believer of Fairies! These letters are highly personalised to suit the recipient and come with free postage and a free gift.

Please spread the word! Thank you!!

A Cloisonné Lesson

Wednesday 18^th April 2007

I'm leaving Mum to do her own thing on her last day in Tokyo. She will go shopping or to Shinjuku Gyoen garden. Or both!

Following the recommendation of many other expats, I've enrolled in a class at the Tokyo Union Church. Today I will be learning how to do cloisonné - the ancient art of making pretty things out of metal and enamel. It's only for one morning so I'm not sure how much I'll get done.

As it turned out, the lesson was very simple and I made a pendant and decorated a small pill box. If I knew where they were I'd photograph them for you, but I wasn't entirely impressed with my efforts so gave them to Rhiannon who was impressed.

There were about four students and a bouncy teacher who brought her own kiln with her. We soldered thin metal wire onto the pre-cut shapes, filled them with enamel powder mixed with water to make a paste then cooked them. As I'd already done this during metalwork lessons in school (sometime in the last century) none of this was particularly new. However, the enamel was different and the colours hard to gauge before firing.

The teacher wants me to apply to go to her next lesson and will bring me in a tile to enamel and display at an exhibition. How exciting!

One of those Busy Days

A slightly full diary: I've been invited to coffee at one of the school mum's homes. She has lived here for nearly 20 years so I go expecting an interesting morning.

Finding her home was an education in driving and trying to understand the GPS, but I got there in the end. Some of these streets are so narrow it defies belief that a car can actually go down them. And this narrowness is compounded by the strange habit of planting the many telegraph poles about 2 feet into the road. Her residence was in a very British looking cul-de-sac and I was puzzled to see the wall bordering her house covered in lots of black plastic padding. It transpired she was unable to manoeuvre her very large SUV in and out of the driveway without scraping it so her husband had padded the walls!

It was a nice, if rather bland coffee morning, translated as no imparted gossip or scandal. This woman has a lot of fascinating things to look at, mostly crafts she's done herself; like washi paper covered books and boxes and a particularly lovely doll all dressed in a miniature kimono, all dutifully admired.

And I found my way home again too! Then to "the office" to drop the car off for Tim. But that was a scary trip. There was one huge junction that, if I took the wrong road, I'd end up on the freeway heading off to somewhere far, far away. I had no idea where I was going: one drawback of the road system here is that there are roads underground and roads high in the air with a couple of parallel roads running at ground level. At these points, the GPS gets a bit confused as all the roads are on top of each other so you have no idea if you've taken the right one because they all merge together on the digital screen. So I shot across the massive junction and at one heart-stopping moment thought I'd gone the wrong way up a ramp. Thankfully I had taken the right road and swore to myself I'd never take that route ever again. Way too scary.

All this is because my lovely hand-carved lantern and bowl is to be delivered to work ready for him to bring home tonight, so he needs the car.

However, I forgot to tell him that it came apart into three pieces: a base, the main part and a little ball to cap it off. I also neglected to remind him that they were hewn from solid granite...

Oh dear.

It took three of them just to lift the bowl, probably giving them all hernias. Then the ball fell off the top of the lantern and chipped a little. But not too badly and I console myself that it adds to the aged character of it. Tim had to bring a friend home with him to help him carry the items around the side to the garden. I couldn't resist pretending to dither about the ultimate position of these items in my tiny space, but they both swore a lot at me so I relented quickly and made some tea.

Rhiannon has gone to for a playdate; (to the same family as mentioned here Playdate from Hell .) I'm not too happy about this as there seems to be some tension between the girls, but I need to time to work and Rhiannon really needs the companionship of kids her age in order to help her settle in and learn about peer relationships. And it was offered so I'm certainly not going to turn it down. We'll see how it transpires. However, I do send Tim to collect her as I don't want to spend more time with the mother than I absolutely have to.

I still can't put my finger on why she rubs me up the wrong way, but it appears I am not alone, from what I hear from other mums.

    

Stone Lanterns and Other Wonderful Things

6^th February 2007

What a fabulous day! I went on a trip with a few other mums from school, organised by a fabulously capable lady called Connie.

All neatly sandwiched between school hours and very slickly organised with regards to train times and connections, about ten of us went to a place selling Japanese stone lanterns and other gorgeous items. A mega-shopping trip!

From Shibuya station, we caught two trains and after an hour ended up at a place in the country called Zushi, which was even further away than Kamakura. At Zushi station, the son of the shop owner met us with a minibus and drove us to his father's small workshop set beside a narrow road.

What heaven! Already deeply admiring Japanese culture of most kinds, I had done a little research into these special ornaments and decided to treat myself to a small lantern. It has to be small as our shipping allowance wouldn't permit transporting many extras on our next trip, either back to the UK or to another country.

But the choice was overwhelming and with more than just lanterns to choose from, we all found it very hard to make a decision.

I was astounded at all the other women being unable to make a decision without their husbands' approval. They were all taking photos of various items, then sending them via phone for hubby's opinion. Tim wouldn't have been at all impressed if I kept bugging him like this, and besides, he knows my taste is far superior to his!

It still took us all 2 hours to choose which of the beautiful, hand-carved stonework we would buy for our gardens. There were so many delightful styles to choose from, and what I really wanted wouldn't fit into my tiny garden. At one point, the son came out with cups of hot orange juice for us. Delicious and unexpected, it turns out that this is a particular type of Japanese orange called Mikan which grows in abundance here.

I chose a small dark-coloured granite lantern, and couldn't resist also purchasing a tsukubai, a little granite bowl traditionally used to rinse your hands before partaking of the tea ceremony. Eventually, we had all made our choices and arranged delivery, paid and rather dizzily drifted back onto the street.

However, the owner then kindly invited us back to his home for tea. Well, he had made rather an incredible profit that day – one lady alone had bought four huge lanterns. We were more than happy to accept, although some people made their own way back to the station rather than be sociable.

What an experience! This was my first sight of a 'real' Japanese home, both inside and out, all paper walls, tatami matting on the floors and a sunken fire pit called a hibachi. Hanging over the fire was a large iron kettle attached to a magnificent hook carved in the design of a fish. The lady of the house welcomed us with open arms and directed us to cushions placed around the hibachi. Kindly, she advised that she didn't mind if we didn't kneel as she understood it was hard for gaijin to do this! She served us delicious green tea and biscuits while her husband told us that the stone masonry is his 'side job'... his real job is moving Japanese houses. Yes, this is actually what he does - he moves the ENTIRE house, with all the contents in situ, including, (as he said) the fish in their tank. He somehow does it by piling the whole house onto pallets and moving it inch by inch. Not sure on the actual technique but apparently he is one of the last people in Japan who can do this.

They also kindly allowed us to look around their home. The windows had sliding shutters designed to present a perfectly framed view of the carefully manicured garden dependent on the time of year. Each ornament was striking in its beauty and strategically placed. Little alcoves displaying scrolls and special treasures adorned the immaculate rooms. It was an interior designer's heaven, yet normal life for these lovely people.

Sadly we didn't have much time there as we had to catch a train back to make it back to Tokyo in time to collect our children from school. And unfortunately, I hadn't thought to take my real camera with me, so these are taken with my phone and not great quality. Incidentally, those are reflections across his highly polished and gorgeous table, not smears on the lens.

Note to self - ALWAYS carry a real camera!

  

Taking Control of my Days

 

12^th January 2007

Today I made some life-progress!

I committed to two new things, both of which I have never done before.

To start, I went to a coffee morning at the school. Held in the large, sunny school library, it was completely packed with mums. Coffee and real English tea was available so I made sure I indulged freely in the tea. The librarian, a wonderful Swedish man, provided a feast of delicious home-made cakes which didn’t last long.

Feeling very much like the new girl at school (which actually, I was) I drifted around trying, and completely failing, to get included in conversations.  So I people-watched for a while; a mix of nationalities, including Japanese, is represented at the school but the people attending the coffee morning were all gaijin. Most had expensively highlighted hair, loud voices and enormous glittering diamond rings. I feel very different and most definitely a bystander. I wonder if this is a Mummy Mafia that has been much written about in the British press.

I discovered that someone was handing out booklets so I asked for a copy. It’s entitled “Tokyo ABC – A Parent’s Guide to Life, Living and Getting Out of the car Parks!” which bodes well for some useful and amusing content.

After an indeterminate length of time (three cups of tea) I decided to leave. There were far too many people there, all ostentatiously greeting and gossiping with old friends and not particularly interested in talking to newbies, apart from the typically female 'once-over' - the slow, top-to-toe sweeping look that is designed to make one feel inferior. Never works with me, just makes me laugh!

So, clutching my new book, I headed off to find something else to do.

I found a Starbucks, and grasped at the familiar to rediscover my equilibrium – and find a toilet after all those cuppas!

Settling down to have a flick through this interesting and useful book, the first page I looked at declared “don’t stay at home alone” and “find something to do”.

OK, let’s do that.                               

Many of the people that had taken the time to talk to me (not from the school) had mentioned a church that ran cultural courses as part of their Women’s Group. Now, I do not ‘do’ church, but seeing the list of classes they ran I decided to go and see what was open to me. I knew the name of the church so I hailed a cab only to discover that it was located just up the road! Luckily the cabbies here are very honest and he told me – in sign language and Japanese – where it was, rather than letting me get in and taking me on a scenic, money-making drive as they would in many other countries.

I always have a slight reservation in entering churches, fearing I’ll be struck down for my disbelief – which is a ridiculous statement if you analyse it. Venturing in I met Rose, the lovely receptionist, who handed me a brochure and I sat down to peruse the class list.

Between the school run times and finances, I narrowed my wish list down and booked in to learn Ikebana. I didn’t realise there was more than one school of this floral arrangement discipline, and two of the three were in the afternoons, making it tricky to get back to school in time to collect Rhiannon. So I chose the one that was running on Monday mornings – Sogetsu Ikebana. I also put my name down for a one day lesson on Japanese Gardens and another to do some enamelling. How refined of me!

Feeling very pleased with myself, I headed home so I would have time for a short rest before heading out for the much dreaded two-hour school run.

 

 

 

 

Tokyu Hands

1^st December 2006

We discovered the most amazing shop today called Tokyu Hands. 

It sells everything you could ever want and a lot of things you couldn’t imagine owning, ever. From acupuncture needles to aquariums, piano wire to paper, kitchenware to kitten toys, chopsticks to chemistry equipment, it’s all here. I foresee many happy hours spent in this shop.

It also sold some Christmas trees and decorations, hurray!

So, we now have a Christmas tree (fake), but upon returning home I remembered that one of the few things I hadn’t shipped over from the UK was… Christmas decorations. Oops! The reason I hadn’t sent them was that I was bored with them and thought, incorrectly as it turned out, that I would be able to get much nicer ones here. So we will be having a minimalist Christmas this year, which pleases me after the chaos of the unpacking yesterday after the lovely empty space of the previous weeks.

We also bought a load of picture hangers so Tim was able to put up our many pictures and make the house seem more like a home. It’s amazing the difference that one job made.

The walls appear to be made of cardboard and large pictures have to be hung from wires suspended from a rail around the top of the walls. I suspect this has something to do with earthquakes, a subject I am trying hard to ignore for now. Smaller pictures go up with just a pushpin holding them.

Being British, I feel I have to mention the weather. The only grey day was the one on which we arrived, and since then the weather has been glorious. Brilliant blue sky, sunny, crisp and cold, each and every day. The trees are turning, showing brilliant reds, oranges and yellow. Ginko trees are dropping their bright yellow leaves like snow and there are many pretty little birds bouncing and chirping in the hedges outside. I need to get a bird book, but I believe they are White Eyes and a Japanese version of a Great Tit, although this one is pinker than the British yellow version.