Happy New Year

Akemashite Omedetō Gozaimasu. (2023 is the Year of the Rabbit)

That’s how you say Happy New Year in Japan. But unlike in America where we start saying it near the end of the year, you can’t use this expression until the second the clock hits midnight. If you’re watching Japanese tv, then that’s the moment you’ll see the announcers bow and say this. Until this moment, what you can say is “Yoi otoshi o” which means Have a good year.

My first Oshōgatsu in Japan was in 1976. I was with my boyfriend and a group of Japanese people. Everyone was drinking. I think we were in Gion. It was a nigiyaka group and nobody noticed that the clock had struck midnight until about twenty minutes later. Quite different from what I was accustomed to.

My boyfriend had claimed that I’d have to move in with him during these holidays. He and my homestay program had claimed that nothing would be open for a week. I was living in a tiny room with no cooking facilities other than the ability to boil water. The shelf outside my window functioned as a reizōko. (The whole room could have done that since there was no heat.) The thing is, I didn’t believe that everything would be shut down. Maybe on January 1, but surely a few shops or gurosarii would open the next day.

A leftover New Year card from 1981
Example of a sign announcing hours for end and beginning of the year

Nowadays they do. But in Kyoto in 1976 every shop really was shuttered and had pieces of paper on it announcing closure until January 7th or even later. The shrines and temples were bustling but normal life had stopped. There was a reason why women were cooking boxes full of food. Would they really last seven days? Actually, no, but three days was definitely possible. I found that out in later years when I prepared the osechi ryōri myself. We’d be thoroughly sick of these boxes as they’d be brought out for all three meals, but we made it through snacking on osenbei and mikan.

Almost everyone would gather round to watch the NHK Kohaku Song Show. This year was the 73rd year of broadcasting it. I think it gets worse every year, but people my age are simply bound to say that. But the tradition of families gathering together to watch it as they did in years past seems likely to fade out. Still, though, it is some of the most incredible staging you’ll ever see. Check out Youtube for some clips. Or watch this as an example:

  • Akemashite Omedetō Gozaimasu – 明けましておめでとうございます ”Happy New Year” or literally, “Congratulations on the opening [of the year]. Isn’t used until the clock strikes midnight and the new year arrives.
  • Yoi otoshi o – 良いお年を ”Have a good year.” This is used at the end of December to people that you think you won’t see again until the next year arrives.
  • Oshōgatsu – お正月 New Year’s
  • nigiyaka – 賑やか lively, merry
  • reizōko – 冷蔵庫 refrigerator
  • gurosarii – グロサリー grocery store. There is a more Japanese word for this, but I think even this is old; so many shop at a suupaa now.
  • osechi ryōri – お節料理 New Year’s food, aka “the boxes.” Google it.
  • osenbei – お煎餅 rice crackers
  • mikan – みかん Japanese tangerines. So so good!

Japanese Christmas

I struggle to write about kurisumasu in Japan. What else can I possibly add to the multitude of articles already written about it? Gaikokujin new to Christmas in Japan first get an inkling of differences when the notorious kurisumasu kēki start to appear in bakeries. Each year they become more glamorous though “traditionally” they are white decoration cakes with ichigo. And “traditionally” they are eaten on Christmas Eve along with a bucket of Kentucky Fried Chicken because everyone knows that the tradition dictates one have chicken for dinner. It’s been that way for oh so long now. (Since 1974 according to this accounting.)

Perhaps a little less known is that Christmas Eve is for romance and the pressure is on for couples. I’ll leave it at that.

It is unknown how Santa delivers presents since there are no chimneys in Japanese homes. I’l leave that at that as well. Not to mention that old chestnut about how a woman is like a Christmas cake on the day after Christmas. (Google it if you’re interested.)

I do remember my first Christmas in Japan which would have been in 1976. It was a Saturday and as I hadn’t been downtown in a while, I thought I’d go look in shop windows since I presumed everything would be shut down. I hopped on a basu and was shocked to find that downtown was bustling. On Christmas Day! In America, at that time, everything would have been closed except a few chūka ryōriya restaurants and maybe the movie theaters. But in Japan… gasp… it seemed like any other Saturday! How could that be? The cultural shock was immense for me. And that was my first introduction to what it was like living in a non-Christian country. I have to admit it was tanoshii for a Jewish girl! Japan was where I first ate panettone, in fact. A little bakery that I frequented in Tokyo was where I first had it and I still search for panettone that tastes as good as that one did to me. Alas.

And I went on to really appreciate the secular Christmas in Japan. In 1976 it was just another day but since then Christmas gets bigger and brighter in Japan. I imagine it might be offensive for true Christians, but the quirkiness of how it is celebrated and the beautiful decorations warm my heart. And I imagine that they find some of the real spirit of Christmas through college Messiah sings and kyōkai activities. But for me I’ll always remember the joy of a Japanese Christmas and the feeling of, for once, not being an outsider to a holiday that wasn’t mine.

  • kurisumasu – クリスマス Christmas
  • Gaikokujin – 外国人 foreigner, i.e. non-Japanese
  • ichigo – 苺 strawberry (ies)
  • basu – バス bus
  • chūka ryōriya – 中華料理屋 Chinese restaurant. Note that there are other ways to say this.
  • tanoshii – 楽しい pleasant, enjoyable or fun
  • kyōkai – 教会 [Christian]church

Thanksgiving

It’s both easy and muzukashii to celebrate American Thanksgiving in Japan. The easy part is finding a day for it. As it happens, there is a Japanese national holiday called Labor Thanksgiving that falls in November. So finding a day to cook and celebrate is easy. A nice coincidence!

Almost forty years ago I was living in Tokyo and regularly celebrated Thanksgiving with two other kazoku. Though we all lived in Tokyo, we were located far from each other at different ends. The three of us women were all Amerikajin and our husbands were Japanese. They had little in common but were resigned to American celebrations with us and the kodomotachi.

The year I hosted it required some amount of maneuvering. Japanese homes didn’t come with ovens, but we’d recently bought a very small one. How would a turkey even fit into it? That is, if I could even find a shichimenchō. It wasn’t a food that was eaten in Japan back then at all. So, I’d have to get on the train and go to the market that catered to the rich expat community. There were a couple, but Meidi-ya was where I thought I had the best chance.

So, I took a ruler and measured the inside of my ōbun. Then I stuck the ruler in my bag. Yes, I was going to have to measure any turkey I found! Stealthily of course. It would be a little embarrassing in front of the expat shoppers who all had American-style housing with big ovens, I imagined. So, there I was looking at turkeys, glancing around, and slipping the ruler out of my bag. Done! I had a nice five pound turkey.

Just big enough to bake five croissants!

But wait! How did I even know if it was a turkey? Maybe it was really a chicken. I’d never seen a five pound turkey in America. Did they have turkeys that small? At any rate, I bought it, cooked it, and it was a success.

The Japanese husbands politely ate their meal each year. After one such dinner, when we were walking back to the train station one of the Japanese husbands turned to the other and said, “Do you want to stop for ramen?” I guess it just didn’t feel like enough for them, though we all felt stuffed. And my own mother would put soy sauce on the table for my husband at the Thanksgiving meal, knowing that the entire meal was not his favorite.

My very first Thanksgiving in Japan was when I was in the Associated Kyoto Program (AKP) in the autumn of 1976. Our director had secured an invitation from the American Consulate in Kobe (Now relocated to Osaka) to join them for their celebration. Nobody said anything about how we should dress and most of us were in our jeans, flannel shirts and hiking boots. We took the train to Kobe and it started to rain. By the time we arrived at the Consulate, we were soaking wet… and still dressed in our jeans and flannel shirts. You might imagine the state of our hiking boots!

We entered the ballroom (I swear that is what it looked like!) like a swarm of maggots. The other guests were in evening gowns and fancy dress. They were older established types and people of status. We were in elite company.

More importantly to us was the incredible spread of food. Most of us made a beeline to the buffet tables. It was a little surprising to see sushi at Thanksgiving but it was an array of food the likes of which you’ve never seen before. (Sorry, but that is how T–P would describe it and he’d be right for once in his life.)

I got a little curious about OUR impact on these fancy folks. I went on Facebook to the alum group for AKP and asked. Had any other years gone to the consulate for Thanksgiving? The answer was no. I guess the Consulate didn’t invite our program back ever again. Can’t really blame them….

  • muzukashii – 難しい difficult
  • kazoku – 家族 family
  • Amerikajin – アメリカ人 American (person or persons)
  • kodomotachi – 子供達 children, i.e. more than one
  • shichimenchō – 七面鳥 turkey
  • ōbun – オーブン oven. There is no V sound in Japanese so it usually converts to a B sound.

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?!

Unavoidable

Sigh…. How can I avoid writing about the last day of GW? After all today is Boy’s Day. Oops. I mean Children’s Day. Huh?! There is some confusion about this. Kodomo no Hi does translate into Children’s Day. But traditionally it was the counterpart to Girl’s Day, which falls on March 3. There’s something about odd months that brings out the Japanese holidays. 1/1 is Oshōgatsu, 3/3 is Girl’s Day, 5/5 is Boy’s Day or Children’s Day, 7/7 is Tanabata (not a national holiday, but widely celebrated). 9/9 and 11/11 have their own peculiarities based on puns, though, again, not national holidays.

So, koi nobori are flown on and around Kodomo no Hi. You used to see huge ones flying high from rooftops, but these days the smaller ones flown from tiny outside spaces are more common.

koinobori

I had a surprise when I went to the sentō my first year in Japan and found “stuff” in the bath. I was with an American friend and she was on the verge of tossing these greens out and then a kind obāsan explained it to me. This was shōbuyu and these iris roots were meant to be there and had significance. It is said that they ward off evil spirits and foster the warrior spirit in little boys. Who knew?

Found in the bath on 5/5

Though I have a huge set of dolls that I purchased for my daughter for her holiday, I only have this small display for my son. He has plenty of warrior spirit!

  • Kodomo no Hi – 子供の日 Children’s Day or Boy’s Day in Japan. It falls on May 5. Note that Girl’s Day is NOT a national holiday, but Boy’s Day is. Which may be why it is now diplomatically called Children’s Day.
  • Oshōgatsu – お正月 New Year’s. The Japanese celebrate it on January 1, i.e. not when China does.
  • Tanabata – 七夕 a festival that generally falls on July 7, but varies from region to region.
  • koi nobori – 鯉のぼり carp kites on a stick. See illustration. If you have a son, you’ll display them.
  • sentō -銭湯 public bath
  • obāsan – おばあさん grandmother, granny, or any old woman of this age. (I am one now and I wear it with pride)
  • shōbuyu – 菖蒲湯 Bath with iris bulbs in it for Children’s Day

Topics I’d like to Avoid

But it is hard to ignore the fact that we are in the midst of gōruden uīku right now. But what is there to say about it that someone else hasn’t said already? Yes, a holiday-studded week that gives impetus to travel both locally and abroad depending on how the holidays fall. Yet, gōruden uīku is sometimes more trouble than it is worth, particularly if you live in Tokyo.

Bus, train, car…..

During my first year in Tokyo, everyone told me to avoid travel during gōruden uīku because the densha would be packed. They said it was a great time to STAY in Tokyo because the city would empty out. This was fine for me, but your average working class folks feel very compelled to travel to their hometowns since it could be such a long vacation. And when I married a Fukui fellow, we did make the trek a few times. And yes, the trains were horrid. But not quite as horrid as during Oshōgatsu.

If you’re wondering if someone will yield a seat to a nursing mother on a crowded shinkansen, the answer is nope. I thought I’d have to sit on the floor of the train to nurse my akanbō. But a conductor came by and let me know that there was a special junyūshitsu. It was a small cubby that he let me into at the end of one of the train cars. What a relief!

This is a nice modern one.

But with trains being the main mode of transportation for me, I did end up nursing my akanbō a few times on a commuter train. And got nothing but looks of approval from older women. And let’s face it. Nobody likes a crying baby and if nursing in public will quell the cries, then it is The Done Thing!

  • gōruden uīku – ゴールデンウィーク Golden Week or these days abbreviated down to “GW”. Three national holidays fall between the span of a week and when you add a weekend in, you get a nice period of vacation. Avoid visiting Japan from abroad during this time because trains between cities can be very crowded.
  • densha – 電車 train
  • Fukui – 福井 a prefecture in Western Japan in what is called the Hokuriku Region
  • Oshōgatsu – お正月 New Year’s
  • shinkansen – 新幹線 bullet train
  • akanbō – 赤ん坊 baby
  • junyūshitsu – 授乳室 nursing room. If you have a nursing baby or toddler, watch out for signs that will lead you to a nursing location. Department stores have quite nice ones.