Gion Matsuri…Why?

It’s Gion Matsuri time in Kyoto. There is no doubt that this is worth attending despite the heat and crowds. There is simply nothing like it. And I’m very grateful I had the opportunity so many years ago to soak it all up.


And soaking it up is exactly what I did. I never took a single shashin (didn’t even own a camera back then… gasp). It makes me wonder whether people are experiencing it now or photographing it.
I love looking at the photos of Gion Matsuri and watching videos. But I wonder how it is for the person behind the camera. How does filming it impact their own experience?
Another thing I wonder about is the commercialization. Some of it is traditional, some of it is promotional, and a lot of it is just plain old fun. For example, a Chinese restaurant has a shimidare nikuman for just three days. You can only get it at that time. Are there lines out the door for them? You bet!

How about the people of Kyoto? Are they avoiding it? Are they enjoying it? I’m sure there are both types of Kyotoites though I think that after a few years of COVID, they are happy to be free to celebrate without fear, albeit wearing a masuku… still… for many of them. But there are those Japanese who attend with a specific purpose.

If you have a gakusei at home and they have an important entrance exam coming up, you may want to visit the Hakurakutenyama [float] and purchase one of their souvenirs. In fact, I recently read about a family that simply purchases a pair of 500 yen chopsticks at this season and then the student uses them everyday until the day of their exam. It is meant to bring academic success.

Now, that’s personal. Maybe that’s just as Gion Matsuri should be—at least for the locals.

  • shashin – 写真 -photograph(s)
  • shimidare nikuman – しみだれ 豚まん A kind of dumpling literally called a stained dumpling. The stain is soy sauce. In this case it is a speciality of a certain Chinese restaurant and is only served a few days a year.
  • masuku – マスク mask, a face mask. Ubiquitous in Japan even before COVID.
  • gakusei – 学生 student
  • Hakurakutenyama – 白楽天山 That’s a mouthful, isn’t it! It’s one of the floats of the Gion Festival. Read more here.
A short clip I took at an exhibit at The Kanji Museum in Kyoto.

What?!?

The seventies in Kyoto were special. And I know there is a tendency to romanticize them now, but hey folks, it wasn’t all good. I have no lost love for non-flush toilets and rooms with no heat or AC. And… we didn’t know very much.

Imagine coming to live in Kyoto with maybe a little nihongo speaking ability, but certainly zero or a very low reading ability. That left a lot of us lost. We had to rely on eigo sources. But, remember, this is before the internet. So what was there?

For me, there were just three sources of jōhō available in English. The first was The Japan Times. This English shinbun was about ten pages long and a far cry from American newspapers, I thought. But that wasn’t the entire problem. It was very expensive for a poor student. I’d have to get on my bicycle and go into town to get a copy. It was sold in the lobby at both the Kyoto Hotel and the Royal Hotel. I metta ni indulged. However, both hotels also had nice clean Western bathrooms off the lobby. When my mother visited me, we’d make regular stops there since she wasn’t a fan of my squat toilet.

Another source of English information was the Kyoto Tourist Bureau. They had a few publications and would answer questions. But it was located across the street from Kyoto Station and I rarely headed down that way. Also, I wasn’t a kankōkyaku and it was slightly embarrassing to go in there and collect pamphlets that would tell me how to use a Japanese toilet, ohashi etc.

There was one more source of English information. The Armed Forces radio station didn’t come through very clearly on my cheap rajio, but I sometimes caught the news or some music if the air waves were right.

So, one day, I was cleaning my room and I put the radio on to see if I could catch the Armed Forces radio. I did and the DJ was a talkative one. I don’t remember what song he was playing, but he said “… and the late John Lennon.”

WHAT?!? John Lennon was dead? How could I not know such an important thing? When had he died? Why didn’t I know? How could he be dead without me knowing it? I was shocked.

Can you imagine not knowing something like that today? You’d have to be totally off the grid, so I guess it is possible, but the shokku was great and it still remains as a strong memory of the isolation that I didn’t fully realize I was experiencing until that moment. And, by the way, this is why I was compelled to learn to read in Japanese.

  • nihongo – 日本語 the Japanese language
  • eigo – 英語 English (language)
  • jōhō – 情報 information
  • shinbun – 新聞 newspaper
  • metta ni – 滅多に rarely
  • kankōkyaku – 観光客 tourist(s)
  • ohashi – お箸 chopsticks. Note the honorific “o” here as well.
  • rajio – ラジオ radio
  • shokku – ショック shock(s), surprise

Don’t eat cucumbers in July

Now why on earth would I say that? And to be clear, the rule only applies if you live in Kyoto and if you’re a true down-to-the-bone Kyotoite. And I wonder if today’s wakamono even know about this.

If you go to Nishiki Market now, you’ll see kyūri being sold on a stick as a snack. How refreshing and nice for a hot day, right? Even in jūichigatsu, my daughter enjoyed her cucumber greatly.

The problem with the cucumber, it seems, is the katachi that you see when you slice it. Apparently it resembles the crest of Yasaka Shrine. So, just as one might fast on Yom Kippur, or give up something for Lent, the people of Kyoto give up cucumbers for the month of July so that Gion Festival will come off successfully. Or, at least that’s one theory.

Any other green vegetable is fine….

On another note, one hot summer in August I was visiting my in-laws and my giri no okāsan and I were preparing lunch. An old uncle came into the daidokoro and got alarmed to see the sōmen.

Hosonagai no wa dame desu…” he said. His wife was very thin and ailing and giving her a very thin noodle would be bad luck.

One more. When I had my daughter in 1984 we were told at the hospital to eat white food to bring in our milk. But there’s a basis for this. The ideal white food would be omochi. Back in the day when food was scarce, mochi was a good way to get some nutrition, i.e. karorī. In fact, that’s why to this day, a bowl of udon with mochi in it is called Chikara Udon!

  • wakamono – 若者 young people
  • kyūri – きゅうり cucumber
  • jūichigatsu – 十一月 November
  • katachi – 形 shape, appearance
  • giri no okāsan – 義理のお母さん mother-in-law
  • daidokoro – 台所 kitchen
  • Hosonagai no wa dame desu – 細長いのは駄目です。”No long and thin foods, please.” My uncle considered this to be bad luck because the noodles could easily break, as could his wife’s health.
  • omochi – お餅 We know what this is, right?
  • karorī – カロリー calories or calorie
  • Chikara Udon -力うどん a type of udon that usually has a piece or two or mochi in it.

Summer is so hot!

I think July was the worst month for humid heat when I lived in Kyoto. That’s not to say that August was much better, but by the end of August you could feel a whispering of aki in the air. I wonder if that still holds true.

Of course I had no air conditioner in the 1970’s. I depended on a fan kept within a foot of me when I was in my geshuku room. And I’d hightail it out to get some kakigōri at the peak of the day. Back then there wasn’t the enormous variety that you see now. It was simply strawberry, lemon, and a Kyoto speciality of Uji green tea with either dango or anko or both. That one was always more expensive and seemed very extravagant to me.

A few of my well-worn hankachi from many years ago.

I also was grateful for all the hankachi I had to daintily (?) pat the sweat from my face. I never once had to buy a handkerchief because they were such a common gift. You always had to carry one because public bathrooms had no paper towels or other devices for drying your hands. For that matter, toilet paper could be iffy as well, so you’d always have both a hankachi and a packet of tissues in your bag. Since tissue packets were given out at train stations with ads written on them, you never really had to buy those either… at least not in Tokyo.

Towelket for a child. Snoopy was and is always popular in Japan.

Commuting to work by jitensha was definitely a plus in the summer. Kyoto is pretty flat and you’d feel the wind on you as your pedaled. And upon arriving home, I’d head for the public bath each night and then turn on the fan and lay out my futon, of course with just a taoruketto in the summer.

I still love my taoruketto and think it is one of the better ways to sleep on a hot summer night!

  • aki – 秋 autumn
  • geshuku – 下宿 boarding house. Rare, these days, but poor students usually lived in these. It would usually be one room, a shared toilet area and a nearby public bath.
  • kakigōri – かき氷 shaved ice. Nothing like a snowcone though. We’re talking major upgrade from that!
  • dango – だんご dumpling. In this case they are small white mochi-like dumplings.
  • anko -あんこ red bean paste
  • hankachi – ハンカチ handkerchief. Very popular in Japan. I wonder why we Americans don’t use them as much.
  • jitensha – 自転車 bicycle
  • taoruketto – タオルケット a summer blanket made out of cotton towel material. They are wonderful on a hot summer’s night and are often given as gifts.

My Generation

I am from the generation who grew up with the mantra “Don’t trust anyone over thirty.” (It was a little bit shocking when we all turned thirty and realized we could no longer trust ourselves! ) But I quickly learned that in Japan, oyako could be friends.

Generations at the Kamo River

Take Rie, one of my students who was just a year younger than me. She spoke Eigo well and I’d inquire about her weekend. One day she told me she’d been to a hosuto kurabu. I was immediately intrigued. Japan was pretty well known for hostess clubs where women in beautiful or sexy gowns would coyly entertain otoko as they plied them with drinks. They weren’t prostitutes but they weren’t lily clean either in some cases. Hostess clubs could be very expensive. They were the domain of business men who tended to entertain clients there.

From Wikipedia Club district in Kyoto

But what the heck was a host club? I’d never heard of them, and Rie was happy to fill me in. She said that these clubs were for women and had handsome young men who would dance with them and shower them with attention. Rie then casually dropped the bomb that she had gone to the hosuto kurabu with her mother! Her mother!

Picture me really shocked at age 22. I went nowhere with my mother if I could help it and I couldn’t imagine hanging out with her outside the home and, well, a host club? I was startled by Rie’s casual comments and dug for more. Rie said she liked her mom and they hung out regularly, like friends. Unheard of; her mother was over thirty, after all.

After some time in Japan, I began to see the relationship between parent and young adult child was totally different. Japanese parents respected their young adult children and saw them as complete adults–adults who sometimes knew more than they did. To my own parents, I was a “kid” until the day they died. In fact, they always said that I’d always be their “child.”

Popular in Japan, even today

Post-war Japan brought so many changes and at a high speed. One of the more difficult ones for older folks was the profusion of “katakana words” or English words for things. New things often had English names and the older generation couldn’t keep up. So it would be the younger generation that would help them with the bombardment of change and new words such as: shanpū, nekutai, makudonarudo, arerugī and hundreds more.

I’m close with my own daughter now like Rie was with her mother. It’s a different relationship from the one I had with my mother. I wonder if it is because of the technology boom that has made her sedai the ones with the—for example—phone knowledge. I do turn to my kids sometimes with questions about my overly-intelligent phone. To me, they are fully adults and have knowledge that I do not have.

So here I am comparing the relationship between generations citing post-war Japan and new-tech America. If this makes any sense at all. Dō omoimasuka?

  • oyako – 親子 parent and child. There is also a rice dish called oyako donburi, which is chicken and egg on rice. Get it?
  • Eigo – 英語 English language
  • hosuto kurabu – ホストクラブ host club
  • otoko – 男 man or men
  • katakana – カタカナ syllabic alphabet. Compare with hiragana. It is used primarily for borrowed words like the ones below.
  • shanpū – シャンプー shampoo
  • nekutai – ネクタイ necktie
  • makudonarudo – マクドナルド McDonalds (hamburger chain). It’s a mouthful in Japanese! Which is why it gets shortened simply to maku マク these days.
  • arerugī – アレルギー allergy. I bet it took you a minute to get that one!
  • sedai – 世代 generation. Used to specify a certain age range.
  • Dō omoimasuka - どう思いますか? “What do you think?” A question hardly ever asked in Japan.

The Colors of Showa

I watched an interesting dokyumentorī on the NHK English channel. It’s a bit slow, but I’d recommend it to anyone with an interest in Japan. Some of it felt so incredibly natsukashii to me. The colors of the Showa Era in the 1970s were very distinctive and it reminded me once again of the ubiquitous karā bokkusu.

Color boxes were the best friend of any student trying to live cheaply. You could put them upright or on their side. They worked for books, as a pantry, clothes etc. They were yasui and came in a variety of sizes. Of course I had a green one. And an orange one. The colors were almost neon in their intensity.

The current asadora had a shot of a Showa room this morning that could have been my room. I could swear I had this very table.

Screenshot from the current asadora

Being a curious type, I tried to find out more about the color box. It first appeared on the scene in 1970 and came from a company called Kuroshio. Apparently it was one of the first pieces that required at-home construction with a screw driver. The chairman of the company saw colorful plastic goods in a depāto and thought it would be a nice change if furniture (mostly wood up until that time) could have those bright Showa colors as well. They had instant appeal among young women who thought they were kawaii.

Timing was everything here! They were a huge hit and eventually were sold around the world. With the current “Showa Boom” maybe the original iro are in again! Sorry, but those colors are still kind of hideous to me.

  • dokyumentorī – ドキュメンタリ documentary (the kind you see on tv)
  • natsukashii – 懐かしい nostalgic. This word gets a LOT of use in Japan.
  • karā bokkusu – カラーボックス color box (used for storage and favored by students)
  • yasui – 安い cheap (adjective)
  • asadora – 朝ドラ literally morning drama and refers to dramas that are broadcast in the morning (duh)
  • depāto – デパート department store
  • kawaii – 可愛い If you use one word to translate it, it is “cute.” But it is simply so much more and has unique parameters which is probably why it has been exported from Japan in reference to manga, Hello Kitty goods, etc.
  • iro – 色 color

Summer Tofu

Kyoto has the best tofu in Japan. No joke. There are still plenty of mom and pop mise that make it each day and even more resutoran that feature tofu. I’m guessing it would take over a year to try them all out. Maybe five years. I’m surprised that nobody has written an in-depth book on Kyoto tofu. It could probably be an hyakkajiten.

At my house. Hint: using a serrated knife to cut the tofu helps it hold the soy sauce.

For summer, the obvious choice is a dish called hiyayakko. It is simply cold tofu (a soft kind) garnished with green onion, katsuoboshi, perhaps a bit of shōga and eaten with soy sauce. There are a lot of variations with the point being that cold tofu is simply so refreshing on a hot day. Needless to say, the quality of the tofu counts big time here!

One summer day when I was riding my jitensha down some side streets in Kyoto, I noticed something curious at a small tofu shop. It was obviously tofu, but in a shape I’d never seen before. (Wikipedia calls it “dome-shaped.”) The top of it was dusted with some green flakes of aonori. I wondered what it was and asked the shopkeeper who told me it was called karashidōfu or mustard tofu. He also told me how to eat it.

You take your ohashi and gently cut it in half. That exposes the dollop of mustard inside of the tofu. Next you add soy sauce and swirl the mustard into it. And eat! So refreshing!

I wondered about the yurai, but I didn’t find much information from Ms. Google. It may have originated in Gifu Prefecture about seventy years ago. So it isn’t all that old. But if you should ever be in Kyoto during the summer it is worth looking out for.

And of course, here is where I get to gripe about modern times. I bet you can find it in a sūpā and I bet you can find it in many other cites in Japan. I hope you don’t find it in the winter. But we humans are now so intent upon getting what we want when we want it and where we want it. Kind of takes the “special” out of it.

I have not seen this kind of tofu in America. Yet. Have you?

  • mise – 店 shop or store
  • resutoran – レストラン restaurant
  • hyakkajiten – 百科事典 encyclopedia. Literally “100 category dictionary”
  • hiyayakko – 冷奴 cold tofu dish
  • katsuoboshi – 鰹節 bonito flakes. Used in so many dishes and also to make dashi.
  • shōga – 生姜 ginger. Please note that you can’t use this for the pickled ginger served with sushi. Sushi has its own vocabulary for things.
  • jitensha – 自転車 bicycle
  • aonori – 青のり green seaweed flakes. Often used on okonomiyaki. What does it taste like? Nothing really. But it looks pretty.
  • karashidōfu – 辛子どうふ mustard tofu. A speciality food of Kyoto in the summer months
  • ohashi – お箸 chopsticks
  • yurai – 由来 origin, roots
  • sūpā – スーパー supermarket

Brrrrrr

They say that in the summer you should think of cold or scary things to keep you cool. Perhaps a ghost story to make you shiver deliciously. Or in these more modern times, you can try going to sleep with the sounds of water dashing down a mountain taki.

The waterfall at Kiyomizu Temple

To keep myself cool, I go back to the omoide of a very cold winter’s day in January. I’ve woken up and am already shivering in my small apartment which has no central heat and indeed no space heater either. And no hot shower or even a bath at all. It’s 1979 and I’m living at the foot of the mountains in northern Kyoto.

It’s the first week of January and my local sentō has odd hours due to the New Year’s holiday. This morning they have asaburo. This is a rare event since usually the sentō is open from around 3 PM until 11 PM. I’ve never done asaburo before but I’m desperate to warm up. But first I have to get there. I reluctantly crawl out of the futon and get dressed.

The area is rural and has some magnificent old farmhouses. No doubt they all have their own baths and the local sentō is quite a walk away. Snow had been falling and it’s a quiet morning. Peaceful and beautiful–and cold.

I walk out of my apartment building, turn right and head down our tiny street to the intersection of three tiny streets. One leads to Midorogaike. One leads to a bus stop, and the one I need to take leads to Kamigamo Jinja after meandering for some minutes. It’s still very quiet as I pass our tiny grocery that is good for milk and bread. They won’t be opening today since it is still the New Year’s holiday. The road is covered with snow, as are the trees and roofs. It’s a quiet winter wonderland and I’m the only one out.

After walking for about seven minutes, I come to the block that houses a few shops. I breathe in deeply as it seems the soba shop is preparing dashi. There is simply no smell like it. Even today, the smell of dashi brings me right back to this street. The buildings are all old here; I could be back in the Meiji Jidai with this scenery. Maybe even the Edo Jidai. The appearance of a samurai would not be at all jarring.

Soba shop

And after I walk past the soba shop, I’ve come to the bath. And… snap. As soon as I enter the changing area, I feel the warmth from the steamy water.

And I need to stop reminiscing right here because this is all about conjuring up COLD memories this morning. Oops.

  • taki – 滝 waterfall
  • omoide – 思い出 memory or memories. A word that is used very often in Japan as omoide are considered very precious.
  • sentō – 銭湯 public bath. I will probably talk a lot about it in this blog because it was my life for many many years.
  • asaburo – 朝風呂 a bath taken in the morning. Traditionally, baths are always in the evening. With the advent of shower heads, the idea of a morning shower was introduced… and at first seemed a little bold. Like, why would you need a morning shower if you had bathed at night? So, when the public bath had asaburo during the week of New Year’s it was very special and different.
  • Midorogaike – 深泥池 The name of a pond in Northern Kyoto, but also serves as the name of the area around it. It literally means ‘deep muddy pond.’ Rents were a bit lower there because it was a hangout for ghosts. Really. But it was a nice place to live!
  • Kamigamo Jinja – 上賀茂神社 A very famous shrine in the northern section of Kyoto. You could google it.
  • dashi – だし a Japanese broth used for miso soup and other cooking. You can buy instant or make your own. If you walk through the streets early in the morning or right before dinner time, you can sometimes smell it cooking. There are so many kinds, but the smell evokes pure deliciousness for me.
  • Meiji Jidai – 明治時代 The Meiji Era (1868-1912) By the way, this is an utterly fascinating era since it is when Western culture started to be more prominent in Japan.
  • Edo Jidai – 江戸時代 The Edo Era (1603-1868)
  • samurai – 侍 I can’t even. You know this. Okay, warrior. Did you really not know this?!

August and Favors

I knew I was in for a hot summer, but it would end… soon.

Hachigatsu is always a poignant month for me when it comes to Japan. Both my first and second trips began in August.

That first trip was August, 1976. I don’t remember what day it was, but it was with the Associated Kyoto Program (AKP). As a group, we traveled from New York City to Tokyo—with a surreal layover in Anchorage—and then missed a connecting flight to Osaka and spent the night in a classy Tokyo hoteru, possibly courtesy of the airline? I was the odd loner from a daigaku that was not a member school of the consortium that ran the program, but my professor had led the program a couple of years previous to my year so I was permitted to join. The other students knew each other since there were five or so of them from each school. I did know two of them from my summer at the Middlebury Language School. That wasn’t nothing, thankfully.

My second trip, I made alone. It felt like a do-over because I’d ended up dropping out of the AKP program due to…well, I’m just not going to tell. But I went home to Kansas in April instead of June. And I was frustrated that I hadn’t done Kyoto very well. So after sotsugyō I worked hard to save okane and flew off on my own on August 14.

Keep in mind, this was 1978. No internet, not much information. Because if I’d known, I would have realized how baka it was to fly into Japan during Obon when everyone and his brother would be traveling. Sure enough, I landed in a VERY crowded Haneda Airport. What the heck? I had thought I would just be able to saunter over to a counter and get a kippū to Osaka. The lines were very long, though. It was not looking good.

Suddenly a middle-aged otoko approached me. He’d seen me eyeing the line for Osaka. He asked me if I needed a ticket. I said that I did. He said that he’d take care of it and he somehow got us on standby. That was nice. It was still looking dim, though.

But miraculously, some hours later, both of our numbers were called and we were able to get on the hikōki. I’m not sure why this was, but neither of us had gone through customs yet. So when we arrived in Osaka and before we went through customs, my new “friend” had a request. He himself was coming from Taiwan, he said, and he said he’d bought too many cigarettes and would I mind holding them and taking them through customs for him.

Popular brand of the time

Naive as I was, alarm bells went off! What was going on here and was I going to be smuggling? But he’d been so shinsetsu. Readers, I could not say no. (I am and always will be a total wimp.)

So, I agreed. And felt like a nervous wreck as I went through customs. What was really in that bag?

After we got through customs, I found my “friend” and said, “Here you go. There was no problem.” (I was probably still quivering.)

He laughed and said, “Oh, you can just keep them. I really do have enough of them.”

So… what was that all about? I will never know. But it was a stupid risk to take and I wouldn’t recommend that anyone do what I did. But maybe, just maybe, he really was just a helpful guy!

  • Hachigatsu – 8月 August
  • hoteru – ホテル hotel
  • daigaku – 大学 university or college
  • sotsugyō – 卒業 graduation. Note that in Japan entrance ceremonies are a bigger thing than graduations. That is, it is harder to get in than to get out!
  • okane – お金 money
  • baka – バカ stupid or stupidity. This is the word that my five year old son taught to his kindergarten classmates in New Jersey so that they could understand Japanese. He refused to learn English for awhile and had a language crusade going on. American mothers would come up to me and ask, “Oh, is baka a word in Japanese?” What does it mean?”
  • Obon – お盆 an important holiday in July or August (depending on the region) where ancestors are honored… and everyone takes a vacation back to their hometowns or Hawaii etc. Google it.
  • kippū – 切符 ticket
  • otoko – 男 man
  • hikōki – 飛行機 airplane
  • shinsetsu – 親切 kind

Nariyuki/Fate

In the late 1970’s, as is true now, gaikokujin came to Kyoto with specific goals in mind. I met Robert, studying to be a Zen priest at Daitokuji. My friend Pat was destined to become a Japanese art history professor. Those studying Chado were many. Japanese gardens? Oh, yes. Cooking? I didn’t know anyone doing that, but I think they do now. Have I forgotten martial arts? There are always those, though purists in karate would go to Okinawa. Textiles? Absolutely, be it the wearing, designing, dying etc. of kimono, that was another approved route.

Ippodo, a famous tea shop

So, what was my bag? (Or my groove, maybe?) Well, I didn’t exactly have one. Since nariyuki had brought me to Nihongo and then Japan, the only thing I really wanted to do was learn the darned Japanese language. Actually, I was determined to learn to read it and that meant memorizing kanji and then making my way through different books with three dictionaries at my side. And a cup of tea, of course.

It meant starting my day at a kissaten with the ubiquitous morning set–and grabbing a shinbun from the rack near the door to try and read.

Yes, I really do know these terms and how it all works!

I quickly found a fun topic. Just kidding. It wasn’t fun, but my visa sponsor got me to help him with his work for the anti-nuclear power movement. So there I was reading newspaper articles in Japanese on genshiryokuhatsuden and being a covert part of the hangenpatsu movement. Later I would go on to translate a book called Genpatsu Gypsy. Though I’m not sure what happened to my translation (it is rumored that it circulated in Australia) I did get to meet the author and slightly astounded him with my list of shitsumon which showed him how closely I’d read his book. There I was, in my early twenties, translating a book on nuclear power. Not exactly why most foreigners go to Kyoto.

This necessitated me learning how to say maverick in Japanese. I think I’ll use the word kawarimono for that!

Later I’d try dabbling in a few of the more traditional arts, but mostly I just left it to fate to determine what to tackle next. No regrets!

  • gaikokujin – 外国人 foreigners. This is the polite form. In Japan, the shorter the phrase gets the ore casual or even rude it is. Because of that, it isn’t exactly polite when this gets shortened to gaijin. But it very often is shortened to the dismay of some.
  • Chado – 茶道 The Art of Tea, or the way of tea, or the study of the tea ceremony
  • kimono – 着物 It is not a bathrobe! It literally means thing that you wear, but refers to a proper Japanese kimono.
  • nariyuki – なりゆき fate. Literally how it unfolds is how I go… or something like that. A sense of destiny beyond one’s control.
  • Nihongo – 日本語 the Japanese language
  • kanji – 漢字 Chinese characters. If you learn them, it will help you slightly in a Chinese restaurant, too
  • kissaten – 喫茶店 coffee shop, but now refers to an old style coffee shop as opposed to a cafe. Us old folks like this style much better. Hipsters do not. Yet.
  • shinbun – 新聞 newspaper
  • genshiryokuhatsuden 原子力発電 – nuclear power. It’s quite a mouthful, isn’t it? Kind of fun to just casually reel off… 😉
  • hangenpatsu – 反原発 “against nuclear power.”
  • shitsumon – 質問 question
  • kawarimono – 変わり者 maverick, someone who is different