great solacers

i didn’t really want to hear of any more news about the global gloom of economy, telling us to save money, if any, for a rainy day. it was a rainy sunday. but we had spells of bright, calm and warm weather (around 2o centigrade!). a typically sunny day of november is called “a fine little spring day 小春日和” in japan. indeed, it was spring-like and the sun was inviting everyone to be outside. still, the air was autumnal, fresh and clear, and the colours of roadside-trees as far as i could see from my window were red, yellow and brown. how could i resist going out? even when i got something to work at home, it must be a great shame if i did not take a long walk in my park on such a fine little spring day.

the reasons i can live in this (sort of like culturally barren) middle-class suburbia are my mother and my park. as i’d always lived miles and miles away from my mother before, i am happy about living within striking distance of my mother’s flat now. also, as i’d almost always lived near a park, i chose to live here within shouting distance of a park when i decided to settle in osaka. my park is not as fashionable as urban oases like central park of new york or hyde park of london. it is, however, the largest lush green area in this city. it has cascades, a huge pond (we don’t call it a lake) and lovely paths along them. people would go there for walking, running, walking their dogs or taking pictures of birds.


the park lays there for flora and fauna, too. it provides birds a perfect sanctuary. i now know which branches a beautiful kingfisher would perch on in winter. i saw a raccoon family gingerly popping out of a bush by the pond for the first time in september. crows and cats are the modern inhabitants in the park that are only on the increase among them. crows have become urban trouble-makers in big cities for rubbish disposal all over in japan, because they can live on a “mixed-diet”. as for cats, people would go dump their cats there when they no longer want to or cannot have them at home. on the other hand, many people have found solace in feeding those cats, who have multiple names that vary according to their feeders.


when i walked in my park on friday, i found a sakura 桜 tree in blossom every autumn, but there were only a few momiji 紅葉 (japanese maple) trees changed colour, while cherry leaves started to fall. so i headed for another park some 1 km away. i remembered its maples would usually turn red earlier than momiji. i was a little too late to get there, actually. i missed its best. but, all the foliage was still glowing with scrumptious colours: cardinal, vermilion, burgundy, crimson and amber. as i was walking back home, i was thinking about last year when in convalescence -- back then, i felt increasingly appreciative of the autumn i was able to enjoy again. a walk on a lovely day always gives solace to me. i was hoping that my brother, too, was having a pleasant and peaceful autumn day before his hospitalisation next week.

on thursday, my brother and i had visited our mother together to inform her that he was diagnosed esophagus cancer. we did our best to play it down, though. her shock seemed miner than when she got in my case. that was a real relief. she appeared to have learned to be fully aware of the possibility since i fell ill last year, which was utterly shocking news to all my family. as i’ve survived, i can be something that makes her believe her children will certainly make a speedy recovery. yes, she should believe it. he is my brother. i do believe it, too. my heart, meanwhile, aches whenever i imagine how sad a mother can get when she finds herself useless before her child left in a critical situation.

after my brother left us, my mother looked heavy-hearted, though we both tried to look as normal as possible. she handed me a pinch of saffron threads she grew and harvested for me this year, too. i simply hope that she will plant bulbs of saffron for me next year and this little happiness will last forever. after wondering around the globe alone, family values are my quite recent discovery, as it were. especially, i treasure the closest ever bond with my mother and another with my daughter in my entire life. i should make her paella, using her saffron. or, some seafood stew like bouillabaisse would be nice to bring her on a cold evening. i would make either one when shion, my daughter, stays with me next time, hopefully soon.

soul-searching november 9

i received the bad news first on wednesday. it was a sad day. i learned that the result on my brother’s medical tests was not as good at all as i’d hoped. when i talked to him on the phone, he was in good spirits as usual, though. he’s got to be ready for a long fight against cancer. my brother’s always a gentle soul, but i detected a bit of irritation in his voice. i know very well how he feels. he must be angry about himself having neglected to have check-ups even when he noticed some symptoms. maybe, all i can do now for him is care for him as his only sister.

on the previous night, an expat friend of mine phoned me from london. we had a long chat, exchanging gossips and updating information about our own lives. naturally, who’d be the next american president was among our topics. she said she didn’t want barack obama to be elected because his grandmother (step-grand mother to be precise), sisters and brothers (half-siblings) live in the slums of kenya and fellow african people’s high hopes would be big trouble for his future as president. -- how? i couldn’t help feeling sad as i heard her making such remarks. she was very generous friend of mine who was always there for me when i lived in london. but, yes, i remember our own world views were different.

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the good news followed the bad one, though. barack obama (a brief but pretty lengthy biography of him on the guardian here) was elected as the new american president. if i were a voter i’d unconditionally stand by him: mostly because he seems to be scrupulously fair with everyone and, unlike usual fat cats, he shows a great deal of respect even for those who disagree with him; partly because i’m interested in his mix-raced and multi-cultural background and, needless to say, he is one of black (half) americans who were born to fight for unreasonable discrimination even in this 21st century. his, and all the unprejudiced americans’ triumph pleased and relieved me no end.


at the same time, it worried me over his safety. i already begun to fear that he should be the highest-profiled target for some crazy white-supremacists, as i watched the video of his impressive victory speech on the election night in chicago. anyway, he stood still before the sea of his ecstatic supporters, including emotional jesse jackson with tears in his eyes. barack obama’s inner equilibrium was incredible. it was the most beautiful and moving speech i’ve ever heard in my life. directly or indirectly, we all did share his victory. the scene of his speech became “a night to remember” for us. i was glued to the video on my pc for some 17 minutes. i was touched. i played it over and over again. what a historic night!

when barack obama visited berlin in july, he was cordially welcomed by berliners and 200,000 people turned up to hear his speech in tiergarten. and i noticed that in his victory speech he quoted the fall of the berlin wall. that was certainly a night to remember, too. on the 9th of november, 1989, when the wall came down, i was in london with my little kids. we were watching live tv news captured the euphoria of all berliners. then, the tension of the cold war faded out. meanwhile, my family eventually fell apart and my life, going back and forth between london and tokyo, changed a lot. and 10 years later, i was alone in berlin. i was there to share and celebrate the 10th anniversary of the fall of the berlin wall with berliners.

why? because i was a simpleton, like those local residents of a japanese city, obama 小浜 (means “tiny beach”) of which pronunciation happens to be the same as american president-elect, who gatherd to celebrate his victory with hula dance (what a joke!). in early september, 1999, i flew to berlin from tokyo and for 3 months i lodged with marianne, who was a costume designer, in her spacious apartment near savignyplatz, belonging to the posh neighbourhood. to tell you the truth, celebrating the anniversary was a pretext for my berlin trip. although i genuinely had sentiment towards the fall of the berlin wall, i wanted to leave tokyo, or rather, just wanted to change my spiritless tokyo life, feeling that everything i did came to naught.

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in berlin, marianne’s apartment was full of inspirations. i roamed around the city day after day. i loved galleries in mitte. i loved tiergarten. i loved taking #129 buses and s-bahn between savignyplatz and hackescher markt. i truly loved berlin. i met new people. i went to see exhibitions, operas and concerts with them or alone as much as i could afford. before flying back to tokyo, my sentimental journey was supposed to culminate with the special night of november 9th. actually, it was a bit of disappointment – i was there only to find berliners’ indifference to the celebration. they had to deal with reality first. the whole city stayed normal, except for the people hired to work for the celebration, well, for celebration’s sake.

marienne didn’t even mention the berlin wall that day. one of americans i met at the goethe insititute, pete, who lamented over his country’s unpopularity among germans (already in 1999!), flew home before the anniversary. it was drizzling but unseasonably a mild night. i went out alone to see what was happening at the brandenburg gate. when i got there, the celebration was officially over and the crowds already started to disperse. berlin’s symbol of freedom looked a little fragile in the misty rain. what a night... i’d never imagined the 10th anniversary of the fall of the berlin wall would turn out like that. but yet, no matter how things went, no matter what my motivation was, berlin provided me time and space for soul-searching. i needed to look back at my past 10 years in order to see where i was standing and where i was going.

19 years passed. the world has become more complicated than ever since the berlin wall came down. i really hope barack obama’s new america will regain its popularity from the rest of the world. and 9 years have raced by since i bade good bye to berlin. i’m reflecting on my personal life -- how many times have i started over since then? did i go wrong somewhere? are my children happy about me now? is my mother contented with her life much involving me? and, oh, my brother, when he came here last week for his cancer confession to make, did he expect me to cry? (i didn’t, in front of him) – november 9th has become, somehow, a day to search soul and heart for me.

wow. i's so nice to find your comments on my last post. thank you so much for kind words, which mean a lot to me. my brother is as strong as me ;) i'm sure he will win his fight!

the moment of truth

i’ve been waiting to hear some important news since this morning --- the news of two unrelated results that i will have to accept. i am no doubt getting more nervous as time passes.

one result is on the american presidential election, which i’ve no involvement, actually. but it is so much to do with the whole world, so that it can remotely affect even my life. that’s for sure. another one is way scarier to hear. last friday, my brother came to see me, saying “i’ve got something to tell you”. whenever i hear the line, it’s nothing good. my brother, the best role model of family-man: a devoted son; a loving father and a gutsy affectionate uncle to my kids, is always and exceptionally caring to me. this time, he is the one who needs to be cared by the family. he came to me to tell this straight from the clinic he’d visited: “i’ve been diagnosed with cancer.”

he has gone to a medical university hospital with his wife this morning to find out how risky his cancer condition is and what treatment doctors can give him. i know it’s not exactly our dna’s fault. anyone can be a cancer patient these days, can’t they? despite the medical survey and research, i feel as if my family is doomed: we lost our father to cancer and i’m a cancer-survivor, too. although my mother is no stranger to bad news like “cancer announcement”, we haven’t told her yet. i’ve started praying to god again for him since last friday, like i did for myself last year. please, please don’t take an ordinary family life from my brother, please let us go on this way, or even better way…

the moon in lagos

gosh. it’s already november. i can’t believe that we have only two months to go before the new year. but the low temperatures are still double-digit numbers (celsius), though. i go anywhere in light cotton top and pants during the daytime. lots of osakanians may be dying to show off their new woollies, i guess. “jack frost” seems to be having a whale of a time someplace else. in england, perhaps? i’ve noticed that the london’s weather has turned wintry, nippy and even had some snowflakes recently.

when lived in london, i quite liked finding fern frost patterns on my kitchen window and frozen petals in the garden on cold mornings. a crisp air could sharpen my senses. nonetheless, thick or wet weather made me go crazy missing a sunny place. and, i actually tried to escape from damned dim days. there were several holiday destinations i fancied. algarve, where there was a distinct possibility of sunny spells, came across my mid first, since i’d never been to portugal before. as it turned out, my instinct proved myself right. november in lagos, not the one in africa but in the algarve region, was a seashore paradise.

i stayed at a villa-styled hotel on the cliff and my room had not only a perfect ocean view but a perfect kitchenette as well. people would think it’s ridiculous if i said i’d love to cook on holiday. but i do. so the first thing i did in lagos was food shopping at a local supermarket. at the check-out counter – i found myself having no money with me. silly me. i’d left my wallet in my hotel room. while i was in a panic, i recognised the faces of a youngish english family, who took the same plane from gatwick airport and stayed in the same villa as mine, queuing up right behind me.

i explained the circumstances to the father and politely asked him if i could borrow some cash to pay and told him i’d returned the money as soon as i got back in the villa. but he refused. fair enough. who’d want possible trouble on holiday? to be fair, i was a complete stranger. after the awkward moment of silence, a man showed up, introducing himself in english as the shop owner. “where are you staying?” he asked me. i told him the name of the villa. “you can take the stuff with you” said the owner, “no problem. i’ll collect the money later.” i felt like shedding my tears over his kind offer. “obrigada,” i repeated my first portuguese word. i appreciated his trust in me. he made my day.


during my stay, i dined out at a small restaurant sometimes, while i kept visiting “my supermarket”. and also i shopped at a local fish market that inspired me to cook a cheap and cheerful spaghetti alla pescatora, which normally would cost me a lot in london. the only problem was, the fishy and garlicky aroma didn’t easily go away from my room. oh, i shouldn’t forget to mention the natural beauty of lagos: the crystal blue sea and the numerous grottoes that lagos especially boasts. not to mention the mediterranean climate i loved and the gorgeous praias (beaches) along the atlantic ocean with fewer holidaymakers.


there were many other ways in lagos to find life’s simple pleasure by doing nothing, like sunbathing on the white and soft sandy beach (if you don’t mind the cold water, you can swim in november!), strolling into the washed-out coloured town, or looking up at the moon in the starry sky. though i had a chance to visit the dramatic southwesternmost point of europe, cabo de são vicente in sagres, for me it was purely a joy to take the same street on my way to the beach or on my way back to the villa, walking by the house where the branches of bougainvillea hung heavy with flowers in the full bloom over the stuccoed fence.

one afternoon, when i was walking along the marina, i heard someone whistling some sentimental but very familiar melody somewhere. i stopped to wonder what the melody was, looking for who was whistling the tune. as i saw a yachtsman busy pulling a rope on his yacht, i recalled that the tune was japanese: the old but popular song for schoolchildren, “kojo no tsuki (moon over the ruined castle)” composed by 滝 廉太郎 rentaro taki. the melody filled me with nostalgia. but, how and where did he get acquainted with that japanese tune? there could’ve been an interesting story behind his whistling the tune. i was too shy to ask the yachtsman, which i still regret even now. november moons always tell me i really should’ve.

colour pageant

on wednesday, i went to see “jidai matsuri 時代祭” in kyoto with my mother for the first time. i could’ve seen it once or twice before, but i was too little to remember. it’s basically a shinto festival that heian jingo (shrine) 平安神宮 inaugurated in 1895 as its dedication to the foundation of kyoto, but broadly an autumn festival for kyotoites organised by the local government.

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here is a brief history of our old capital of japan: kyoto as capital city was founded on october 22nd , 794 and the era reigned by emperor kammu and komei is called “heian 平安”. kyoto had been the imperial capital for 11 centuries until the imperial family moved to tokyo. the jidai matsuri reflects kyoto’s colourful history. the main attraction is a long procession, representing the eras dating back to the heian period from the meiji period. so, the festival also offers a bit of a history lesson to history-illiterate spectators like me. i cannot remember the names of key figures at all, though. there were too many emperors and shoguns (generals) who reigned over kyoto for 11,000 years.

i first imagined the festival would be like new york’s st patrick’s day. frankly, it was much smaller, much quieter and less fun than that. but yet, it was much more fascinating to see. some 2,000 people in various period costumes took part in the pageant. most of the costumes were rich in colour as well as pattern. if you had an eye for detail as a costume or textile designer, this festival would mesmerise you. it must be the best place for you to study. actually, i could not take my eyes off each foot wear they put on, some of which are so elaborate. even the saddles for horses come in all shades and hues and are made in an extravagant way.

the japanese court culture flourished in the heian period. from an aesthetic point of view, it was the period being ablaze with colour; the most vibrant colour and the most florid style were favoured and evolved by the aristocracy and upper samurai class. just like rococo, a decorative and showy maximalist manner was welcomed. that unique aesthetic value for the court life, including things like writing poetry, was called “miyabi 雅". i simply understand the coloration by its characteristic colour scheme. the flamboyant, still tasteful, colours were exquisitely applied to their fashion (it is kimono, of course) design when their textile technique reached already the highest even in the 8th century.

the people in richly coloured historical costume all walked in the procession along sanjo-dori and moved towards heian jingu. unfortunately, the weather wasn’t that cheerful for kyotoites and tourists to celebrate the special day. it became a drizzly afternoon by the time when the procession was to leave the starting point. i worried over their wet silk kimonos. spectators on the pavement had to hold their umbrellas as the procession passed by. as for me, my mother, our relatives and their friends who gathered for the festival, luckily my mother’s family house fronts on to the street so that we could watch the pageant from the window wide open, sitting on comfy chairs just like a box seat at the opera.

my first visit to the jidai matsuri was a personal discovery of our ancestors’ brilliant traditional sense to use colours. in particular, it rejoiced me with the triumph of “miyabi colour”.