Good Evening Mr. Samurai

KONBANWA SAMURAI SAN (GOOD EVENING MR. SAMURAI)

I saw it the moment I entered the living room, proudly displayed where you can’t miss it, above the western style sofa which was oddly out of place in the Japanese setting. Nicely framed, its lavish hilt reflecting the light, was a katana, a magnificent samurai sword, in its scabbard. I dared touch it. I felt it was calling my name.

No one minded as I gazed at it imagining swordfights in the moon light. I imagined talented actor Hiroyuki Sanada in Twilight Samurai as Sebei Iguchi preparing his short sword for his task to kill a fellow samurai who refused to commit seppuku. The western sofa, the samurai sword, the Japanese décor gave the room a surrealistic atmosphere. “Ikea meets Takashimaya”, I said to myself.

It was my first night at my Japanese foster family’s home in Moka City. I left my dusty shoes in the getabako, the shoe cupboard at the entrance neatly aligned facing inwards. Entering a Japanese home, I learned was literally like stepping up and leaving the shoes was symbolic of casting off the worries and troubles.

“Douzo kudasai” I was ushered in. My otosan (father) and okaasan (mother) introduced me to an assortment of relatives and neighbors who waited for us to finish our orientation at the community gymnasium.

”Minna san kon banwa”- Good evening everyone. “Ogenki desu ka?” How are you? “Hajimemashite” –Nice to meet you, I managed in Japanese. I’ve picked up the tradition of bowing in greeting and Ioved it.

Already my foster mother was pointing out to all and sundry how long my legs were compared to my torso. I could hear tsk tsking and mmm,mmming all around and saw nodding of the heads. I heard kirei desu – very pretty, and fancied it was me they were talking about. Then they were gone.

“Tabemashou”, Let’s eat! We sat down on tatami lined floor facing a low table for a typical Japanese dinner. “Itadakimasu”, we said to ourselves before eating. My foster mother served me first, then her husband and kids before she ate. It was pleasant. Conversation was a lot of one syllable Japanese words mostly oiishi desu (delicious), arigato gosaimasu (thank you), hai (yes), iiee (no), nani desu ka (what) and aa sou desu ka? (Is that right?) on my side and bowing of heads.

Thank goodness I had the foresight to go all the way to JICA, the Japan Information and Cultural Agency to attend Japanese language classes for a semester. Of course, it helped that Japanese exchange students from Sophia University frequented our college and the university across the creek.

Moka City was in a rural prefecture outside of Tokyo, far from the Keio, Waseda, Sophia and Tokyo University crowd we have been hanging out with for the past three weeks. Our group of exchange students took the Shinkasen Super Express, a bullet train with a maximum speed of 285 km/hr.early in the morning. At the city’s gymnasium earlier that day, we laughed when someone asked if we lived in trees back home. Toshi-chan, Maryjoy’s totemo kawaii (a real cutie) foster brother said the chap was just kidding and asked the question for some laughs.

Terri told me later that my 8 year old foster sister spoke like a yakuza. Maybe she meant it wasn’t polite language but yakuza seemed more exotic. Hahaha. I am still wondering how she figured that out. Was it because the little girl said baka baka ne (stupid or fool) repeatedly?

Anyway, after dinner my foster mother led me to the bathroom and gave me a good scrubbing then told me to soak myself in the wooden hot tub. I obliged, soaking away the tiredness of the day. Tomorrow, we were going to go strawberry picking at a nearby farm. I immersed myself in the hot tub, not knowing that I had the privilege of first dip. The rest of the family will soak in the tub later when I had finished.

My mind drifted off to the events of a week ago when Marissa and I were at the ryokan, a typical Japanese inn near Kyoto. We decided for the heck of it, to do what the natives did. Adventures in the Japanese bath, we called it. We went to the communal hot tub, but no one was there. There were loads of people in Tokyo when we decided to soak in the hot tub at Nihon Shinpan.

We washed ourselves very well then soaked in the tub, watching a few pubic hair floating in the murky water. We laughed knowing the high temperature killed any germs around. We heard the rustling of leaves outside the room. Through the open window we glimpsed the shocked face of a Japanese guest in a yukata, peeping with great curiosity into the room. He hurries away. We relaxed. Then,we went back to our room where everyone else was either playing mahjong or sitting together for warmth keeping out the nippy spring night air. Soothed by the warm bath, Marissa and I drifted off to sleep earlier than everyone else.

But now I’m in Moka City in Tochigi Prefecture, the cotton gin of Japan. I entered my room which was sparsely decorated with a futon and a thick coverlet which I embraced like a love sick lover and swiftly dozed off. I lost track of time until I woke up with a start. I sensed a presence, an undeniable energy lurking in the dark room.

I looked around me and saw in one corner of the room directly across me someone sitting quietly staring at me. I thought I saw the devil, the chap had horns! I closed my eyes again and felt myself starting to hyperventilate, I was trembling. “Oh my God”, I prayed ,”please make this vision that of Shinichi Tsutsumi is one of my favorite Japanese actors, otoko mae ( handsome man) to the max, intense, award winning, brilliant and a serial dater of young women.

I took another peek and this time, I could make out a man in a shadowy costume with what looked liked a scaly armor and something on his head resembling horns. “Ok God”, I bargained “I will make do with an apparition of actor Joe Odagiri and his quirky hair styles in his various films. No, make that Satoshi Tsumabuki, the cho kakkoii (handsome) Jdorama and film actor and one of the handsomest men in my universe.” OMG, did this vision have long hair too? Then, I clearly heard the vision telling me…”Why did you touch my sword?” And pouf, he was gone.

“Was he ninja or samurai? Mmmm,” I thought,” ninjas were cool and supernatural to boot, especially if they look like Joe Odagiri sporting a modified mohawk hairdo as Gennosuke in the movie Shinobi.” But this one looked definitely like a samurai warrior. I drifted back to sleep, safe in my alternate universe, dreaming of Satoshi –kun and oddly enough of angels in kimonos. Next morning I was in the strawberry field picking the largest most luscious strawberries I will ever see in my life.

Sword in the moon and

Samurai warriors dancing.

In my dream,

Angels in kimonos prancing.