Chapter 61: Land of the Rising Sun, Part VII

July 10, 1994, Oguni, Yamagata Prefecture, Japan

On Sunday morning, I was surprised when Hiroshi came to ensure I was awake. I just said ‘good morning’ in Japanese and went about my exercises, and then out for my run. My side was feeling OK, without the liniment, though it was very tender to the touch, and probably would be until the angry purple, red, blue, and green bruise healed. I’d been hit much harder than I thought at the time, and counted myself lucky not to have had a broken rib.

I was down to ten days to go, and I was both looking forward to going home and wishing I could stay. I wondered, distractedly, how difficult it would be for Jessica to practice medicine in Japan, Kara to teach in Japan, and the kids to adapt, then laughed at the sheer lunacy of such an idea. Then again, it would give Jesse a whole new playing field for girlfriends, so he might sign up in an instant, so long as he could see Marta and Larisa occasionally. After all, he had mentioned he thought Japanese girls were pretty!

I noticed that as time was growing short, I was thinking more about home. I’d experienced the same phenomena when I was in Sweden, though that hadn’t been a retreat, but an escape, and so my thinking had been quite different. I wasn’t dreading going home as I had been fourteen years earlier, but I was certainly going to miss what I was leaving behind. And, unlike with Sweden, I wasn’t sure when, if ever, I’d be back.

As I ran towards the crossroads, my mind wandered back to the idea of burnout, and recharging my batteries. In the future, I decided I was going to find a way to take longer vacations. It would be tricky with Jessica’s schedule, but she needed it just as much as I did. And, come to think of it, so did my staff at NIKA. I began to see the wisdom of the lengthy vacation offered by Swedish companies, though shutting down for an entire month, as they did in August, was nigh on impossible. But after my experience in Oguni, I wanted everyone at NIKA to have some time to truly decompress.

As I reached the store at the crossroads and turned back, I cleared my mind to focus on handling my time with Sakurako. I had no idea what she had planned, and I would have no clue what to say or do until I discovered it. One thing was certain - I needed to focus all of my senses on discerning what was going on. And I had to figure it out, despite having almost no cultural references to work with. My brief time here, as well as the time with Sensei Ichirou, Ailea, and Mitsuko had barely pricked the surface. Not to mention I didn’t have a Japanese mindset.

I reached the compound and walked around the garden to cool down, then headed into the cottage. I wasn’t sure when Sakurako would arrive, so I took my briefs into the bathroom with me, bathed, dried myself, and put on my underwear. She hadn’t arrived, so I quickly dressed in my red gi, and sat down to wait. It wasn’t long before she came into the cottage with what was obviously breakfast for two. That was a first; she’d never eaten with me, at any time, during my stay. In fact, I hadn’t eaten a meal with a female since breakfast on the plane from Los Angeles.

“«Ohayō gozaimas», Sakurako-chan,” I said, using the friendliest form of greeting I knew.

“«おはようございます» (Ohayō gozaimas), Steve-chan,” she replied with a smile.

“Are you joining me for breakfast?” I asked.

“If you permit me, yes.”

“Of course. You are welcome to eat with me at any time!”

“Good. I have lunch planned, and I hope you will permit me to do a «茶の湯» (chanoyu) for you later. If you permit, it will be a «茶事» (chaji).”

“I’m not familiar with either of those words,” I said.

“A «茶の湯» (chanoyu) is a tea ceremony,” she said. “And the form would be «茶事» (chaji), which would include a full meal. You might call our shared tea in the morning a tea ceremony, but it would be «茶会» (chakai), which is basically simple hospitality in serving tea. I wish to perform a full tea ceremony for you.”

I nodded, and responding in English, but using Japanese form, “I would be very pleased to accept your hospitality.”

She smiled and we sat down to eat.

“«Itadakimasu»,” I said, knowing it was my place to give what amounted to the Japanese food blessing.

I also knew she wouldn’t eat before I started, so I began eating. Once I’d taken two bites, she started eating her breakfast. We ate quietly, and when we finished, I returned my chopsticks to the small holder, and arranged the plates and bowls as they had been when she’d brought them in. I’d observed that at the dinner table, and copied that in this more intimate gathering. Normally, I would thank her in English, but given the circumstances, it felt right to use the Japanese phrase I had heard Sensei Hiro speak to his wife at the end of our midday and evening meals.

“«Gochisōsama deshita».” (“Thank you for the meal.”)

“«どういたしまして» (Dō itashimashite),” Sakurako replied with a smile.

She poured green tea for each of us and I sipped mine quietly while I considered my next words carefully.

“Did you have something in mind that you wished to do today?” I asked.

“I am happy to do anything you ask,” she said with a smile.

I returned the smile, “Then I ask you to decide. You requested I ask your grandfather for permission to have the day off.”

“But not in front of everyone, Steve-chan!” she said. “I was so embarrassed!”

“That was the right time and place,” I said. “Your grandfather with his black belts. His inner circle, if you will.”

“Inner circle?”

“His closest advisors. I have listened to the conversations. Your grandfather listens to them and considers their opinions. I’m curious, who will lead the school when your grandfather is unable to do so?”

“He will lead until he is gone, even if he is unable to participate.”

“He’s about 80, right?”

“82, as of May. Other than his kidney problems, he is fine.”

“What problems?”

“He has stones. They can be quite painful.”

“But otherwise?”

“You have seen him, Steve-chan. Does he look ill?”

“No, not at all.”

“His doctor, the one Huong works for, says his heart is healthy for a man his age. Obviously, he is not able to do as much as when he was younger.”

“Does he have other children besides your dad?”

“Yes. There are three sons. My father is the youngest. My first uncle works for the government in Kyoto, but will soon receive a pension. My second uncle is a senior officer in the Japanese Self-Defense Force.”

“Are they as conservative as your grandfather?”

“Very much so. But they selected careers that took them away from here. Grandfather is happy with them, as they can have influence on many people.”

“Our military officers tend to be quite conservative. I assume that’s true here?”

“Very much so. Grandfather had hoped that his other sons could visit while you were here, but it was not possible.”

“What happened with your dad?” I asked.

“In university, he became friends with a leader of the school socialist party. He met my mother at one of the functions. Grandfather did not have a problem with socialism, but with their complete lack of respect for the old ways. By the time my father graduated from university, he rejected everything Grandfather stood for.”

That called to mind something I’d read in the Lotus Sutra, that echoed the story of the Prodigal Son in the New Testament. In the Japanese version, the father grows old, and is quite wealthy. The son, destitute, happens upon his father’s house without knowing the rich man is his father, and the father not knowing the beggar is his son. After a time, he recognizes the son, and the son recognizes the father, and they reconcile.

I hoped, somehow, that might happen with Sensei Hiro and his youngest son. As I thought more about it, now, I realized that could well have been me. Had I taken my sister’s course, I would have shunned my dad, and the gulf could easily have grown so wide that we might never have bridged it. I had vowed, before Jesse was born, to never let anything come between me and my children. And that was a vow I hoped I could keep.

“What does your grandfather think of America?” I asked, redirecting the conversation away from the difficult topic.

She smiled, “It is fine, so long as Americans are content to keep their culture in America, and not export it to Japan! You gained respect in his eyes because you honor his beliefs, even if you do not agree with them.”

“As I said to Sensei Robert, the Japanese people are free to run Japan as they see fit. I strongly prefer our system where everyone is equal, and much more informal. But I am not so arrogant to think our ways are the best for anyone else.”

“But you are very formal, and it does not seem to upset you to be so.”

“I think a better word is ‘polite’. I am an honored guest, and as such, I would be rude to refuse to respect my host. And that would be true even if he were not my Sensei. I’m sorry, but I’m still curious about who will run the dojo in the event...”

“That Grandfather dies? That will happen, Steve-san. But his «kami» will live forever. Before this week, I would have said the most likely person to lead the school would have been Mitsuo. But I’m afraid his rash behavior will prevent that. So I do not know. I’m sure you understand it cannot be Robert-san.”

“I do.”

Seen one way, my presence here had caused a rift in the space-time continuum. I had, in effect, violated the ‘Prime Directive’ and interfered with the natural development of this community. I wondered if there was anything I could do to repair it. But that wasn’t a question for Sakurako, or even Hiroshi. I could ask Sensei Robert what he thought, but my inclination was to speak to Sensei Hiro privately, and see if I could undo the damage I’d caused. But that was an issue for the morning.

“I’m sorry, but I led us down a different path,” I continued. “We’re supposed to be talking about what you wish to do today!”

“Do you know how to fly a kite?” she asked.

“I haven’t flown a kite since I was in third grade, so probably when I was eight. And I suspect you are not talking about a simple kite I used to fly when I was little.”

“No, my brother has a «六角凧» (rokkaku dako). It’s about a meter-and-a-half tall, and you need some skill to fly it.”

“It’s not something I ever learned, so that’s probably not a good idea. Do you play chess?”

“No. Do you play «囲碁» (igo)?”

“If you mean the board game, Go, then I’ve seen it, but I’ve never played it. Would you like to teach me?”

“I would have to ask Hiroshi to borrow his set. He would say ‘yes’ I am sure, but it is a very, very complex game, even though it has simple rules. It’s not something to be learned in one sitting. Perhaps you would prefer to do something else?”

“I don’t suppose there’s a mini-golf course or skating rink nearby that we could walk to.”

“Mini-golf course?”

“A game played with a golf ball and a single club - the putter - on a small course made of felt. Oftentimes decorated with buildings or animals you need to hit the ball through.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a thing. And there is no ice skating anywhere close. In winter, you could use the lakes. But now, I think the closest rink might be in Yamagata City.”

There weren’t really many options. Even if there were entertainment facilities close, I wasn’t sure we could get permission. And I’d never driven a right-hand drive car, which would take a bit of getting used to before I was comfortable enough to drive any distance. I decided it might be best just to spend the time talking.

“If you’re happy to just talk or sit together and read, or walk in the garden, that would be fine.”

“I prefer talking, if it’s OK with you.”

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go out to the bench by the stream.”

“I will clear away the breakfast things and return in ten minutes, in comfortable clothes.”

“OK,” I said.

We stood and bowed, and she gathered the breakfast dishes onto the tray, while I went to the garden to wait for her. She returned ten minutes later wearing a bright blue track suit. We sat on the bench and talked for a couple of hours, before Sakurako went to the house to bring back a tray with coffee and cookies. I hadn’t had coffee since I’d been to Japan, but when she’d offered it, I’d accepted. We drank and ate the cookies, and when we finished, she took the tray back to the house. When she returned, we walked slowly around the garden.

“I wish you could stay longer,” she said as we crossed the bridge over the small stream.

“I wish I could, too. But I have responsibilities back home. Or to put it in Japanese terms, I have a duty to my family and my business to fulfill.”

“I hope you’ll return to visit.”

“I hope so, too.”

We continued walking and talking and then sitting and talking, until she needed to prepare lunch. I took the opportunity to read more of the Lotus Sutra and write a bit in my journal.

Lunch followed the same pattern as breakfast, and when we finished, she cleared away the things, saying she needed some time to make some preparations for the tea ceremony. I decided to read my Swedish crime novel while I waited. I’d only read three pages when the door slid open and I saw Hiroshi standing there.

“My sister asked me to bring a few heavier items here. Is it OK to bring them in?”

I stood up and nodded, “Yes, of course. Do you need help?”

“No, thank you. I just need to set up the «七輪» (shichirin) for her to cook and heat the tea, plus the basin for washing. And then arrange the table.”

“I’ll just stay in the corner here out of your way.”

He brought in what looked similar to a hibachi grill.

“We call that a hibachi,” I said. “But you used a different word. I thought ‘hibachi’ was Japanese.”

“It is, but it refers to something filled with coals we use to heat a room, not cook.”

“Well, that figures,” I chuckled. “We do have a tendency to misuse foreign words. Do you know the word ‘entrée’?”

He laughed, “Yes. I studied French because it is important for a diplomatic job. I was amused to see that word refer to the main course when it should be used to refer to the first course of a meal, not the main course.”