Thursday, August 14, 2008
A Taste of Okinawa
Tonight after dinner I took Gabe out for an evening stroll. Usually we walk in the morning, but now with the heat being so intense, I’ve changed up my routine. As it turns out it’s much better now. During the day it’s pretty quiet. But in the evening it’s all action. The neighborhood is alive.
Tonight we left pretty late. It was about 7:30 and getting dark, but I wanted to take Gabe out to my favorite spot, a little lookout point where you can see all the way past Kadena and down to those two red, white and blue towers that look like rocket pops. In the evening it’s really lovely, with the twinkling city lights and all. So, off we went, walking our way through the tiny little alleys. Those huge fruit bats were swooping around. I’m sure Gabe was like, what the hell mom?…It’s dark, there are big-ass bats out everywhere. But hey, I’m exposing him to Japanese culture – enriching his young life. So he can’t complain.
We passed the church, hung a right down a small lane, bid “konbanwa” to a couple of kids biking by in baseball uniforms, and then passed a house with several cars out in front. Hmmm…something was happening. I looked into the window of another house and saw a large-ish family gathered together in their tatami room. Behind them was their family shrine with what looked like food in front of it. That’s when I remembered that today was the first day of Obon, holiday in which families pay respect to their dead ancestors and welcome them for a three day visit from the spirit world.
Since it’s so hot out, practically everyone keeps their windows open and because of the dark you can see right inside everyone’s homes. You can hear everything inside too. Pots clanging, fans whirring, people chatting. Okay, so this is probably terrible, but I was totally slowing as I walked by people’s windows and peeking (staring) inside. I’ve read about Obon, sure, but what really happened? What was going on in these houses, down the street from mine, but a world apart? Houses where people sat on pillows on the floor at their low tables and pictures of ancestors hung at an angle from the wall. Where rice cookers and pineapples sat on kitchen counters and little kids chatted comfortably with their grandparents. Or maybe great-grandparents?
Gabe and I kept on walking and I kept trying to play cool as I peeped into people’s homes to find Obon evidence. In some houses there were family gatherings. In some, nothing. (Usually, the eldest son has the family shrine in his home, so during Obon the family members come together at his house to pay their respects.) A few homes had electric candles at the foot of the front door or real candles lit inside and food set out. Here and there I caught whiffs of incense. Not as much doing as I thought I might see, more just a feeling. A feeling of preparation and family. Kind of like the day before Thanksgiving.
So, we just walked around and took in the neighborhood and before you know it we found ourselves back on our street. It was dark and time to head back inside. I walked the stroller up the steps and through the gate, opened the front door and a blast of air-conditioned air hit me. Joe was sitting at the computer. The Olympics was on TV. And just like that, Japan was gone and I was back in the U.S. again.
Tonight we left pretty late. It was about 7:30 and getting dark, but I wanted to take Gabe out to my favorite spot, a little lookout point where you can see all the way past Kadena and down to those two red, white and blue towers that look like rocket pops. In the evening it’s really lovely, with the twinkling city lights and all. So, off we went, walking our way through the tiny little alleys. Those huge fruit bats were swooping around. I’m sure Gabe was like, what the hell mom?…It’s dark, there are big-ass bats out everywhere. But hey, I’m exposing him to Japanese culture – enriching his young life. So he can’t complain.
We passed the church, hung a right down a small lane, bid “konbanwa” to a couple of kids biking by in baseball uniforms, and then passed a house with several cars out in front. Hmmm…something was happening. I looked into the window of another house and saw a large-ish family gathered together in their tatami room. Behind them was their family shrine with what looked like food in front of it. That’s when I remembered that today was the first day of Obon, holiday in which families pay respect to their dead ancestors and welcome them for a three day visit from the spirit world.
Since it’s so hot out, practically everyone keeps their windows open and because of the dark you can see right inside everyone’s homes. You can hear everything inside too. Pots clanging, fans whirring, people chatting. Okay, so this is probably terrible, but I was totally slowing as I walked by people’s windows and peeking (staring) inside. I’ve read about Obon, sure, but what really happened? What was going on in these houses, down the street from mine, but a world apart? Houses where people sat on pillows on the floor at their low tables and pictures of ancestors hung at an angle from the wall. Where rice cookers and pineapples sat on kitchen counters and little kids chatted comfortably with their grandparents. Or maybe great-grandparents?
Gabe and I kept on walking and I kept trying to play cool as I peeped into people’s homes to find Obon evidence. In some houses there were family gatherings. In some, nothing. (Usually, the eldest son has the family shrine in his home, so during Obon the family members come together at his house to pay their respects.) A few homes had electric candles at the foot of the front door or real candles lit inside and food set out. Here and there I caught whiffs of incense. Not as much doing as I thought I might see, more just a feeling. A feeling of preparation and family. Kind of like the day before Thanksgiving.
So, we just walked around and took in the neighborhood and before you know it we found ourselves back on our street. It was dark and time to head back inside. I walked the stroller up the steps and through the gate, opened the front door and a blast of air-conditioned air hit me. Joe was sitting at the computer. The Olympics was on TV. And just like that, Japan was gone and I was back in the U.S. again.
