Your Daily Moment of Zen

Your daily moment of Zen is brought to you today by a 3nensei (9th grader) at Nuke Junior High School...

I was impressed with the evening sun.

 It was the most beautiful of all things. 

The sky was dyed by the sun.

I was tired, but I became fine.

(Olivos, Portugal / Summer 2009)

Turns out he did have clothes...

Okay, after recently publishing a facebook album in just under 36 hours from the time stamp of the last photo, I have renewed motivation to be more timely in my internet endeavors. So here goes the second half of my Emperor saga:



The Imperial Palace is long and low and sleek like a 1960's rambler that Frank Lloyd Wright might have designed. I snagged a spot near the front and immediately felt bad for the people stuck staring at my shoulder blades. Almost as immediately I decided that I didn't care. Consider it karmic revenge for all those brain cells I have lost on short doorways. (on a side note: As I was standing, spine pressed to the back railing at a concert and enjoying my uninterrupted view of the stage, a tall friend of mine leaned down and whispered, "JET - my years standing at the back of rooms.")

When the Emperor finally appeared, Empress and Imperial Family in tow, I strained to get a better view of Princess Masako, the Harvard educated diplomat who is the subject of severe public censure as a result of her inability to produce a male heir. Yes, this is the modern world... though I do wonder. On the other hand, Michelle Obama would likely get a serious tongue lashing were she to show a hint of upper arm fat.

Princess Masako is on the far right next to her husband, Crown Prince Naruhito of the flowy hair.



Anyway, the fam came, they waved, we all stood as his royal highness gave a birthday speech. Then the real fun started as the entire crowd launched into the customary shouts of "banzai!" and frantically waved their flags.

I wonder how many times his highness gives that speech per birthday and if he changes it up just to keep himself from dying of boredom.

Probs not... might disturb the wa (和).










We were filed out post speech at which point I suggested to my new found companion that we head to the station Starbucks and camp out for some quality people watching. It was just a half second before he rearranged his face into the look that we have all acquired for dealing with particularly confusing, frustrating, and just outright obnoxious JTE's. The "oh, okay, that's what you want to do? hmmm, well, *deep breath* alright, I guess we can work with that" look.

He was obviously horrified.

I should have realized that he was the kind of guy who was genuinely excited that he got to stand in line at the crack of dawn in the freezing cold to go watch an old, short Japanese man give a 4 minute speech that he couldn't understand. Don't get me wrong, I am just tickled that I got to see an emperor, or I should say, since he is currently the only one in the world, and I have been trying to explain to my students the difference between "a" (one of many, nonspecific) and "the" (unique, specific), I got to see the emperor. How ridiculous is that? I saw the only emperor in the entire world. Well, obviously there is only one because it is such an absurdly fairy-tale-esque title. Like saying you went to see the local hobgoblin or the sorceress next door. Ridiculous.

If there is one truly amazing thing about Japan, it is the ability of Japanese people to take the most seemingly phantasmagorical things with the utmost seriousness and ceremony.

My friend, coworker, and fellow tall gaijin often jokes that he feels like a giant, stomping through this island country with an Arnold Schwartzenegger like slowness to his speech, destroying doorways and centuries of tradition with even the slightest sudden movement.

We are elephants learning to walk on eggshells.

The Emperor Has No Clothes

The word "emperor" is mentioned, and I just can't help but think of a vain old man parading naked in front of the unwashed masses. Maybe that is just me though. I'm sure that that was not the thought process of the thousands of Japanese people queuing to see "His Imperial Majesty the Emperor" on December 23rd when the big guy turned 76.

After an 8 hr night bus ride, I arrived in Tokyo at 6:00 a.m. on December 23rd. Seeings as it was the current emperor's birthday and one of the two days per year that he and The Imperial Family come out to greet said masses, I wandered my unwashed self on over to the Palace to check out the shindig for myself.

All I could see were layers upon layers of barricades and traffic cones. There didn't appear to be anyone around. Was it possible that I, Maggie McCarron, gaijin extraordinaire, was the most patriotic person in all of Japan?

Inconceivable.






the 12 most patriotic people in Japan








Then, across the stillness of the morning, I heard a hearty chuckle that could only belong to the second most patriotic gaijin in Japan. He was at a corner across the street from me, chatting to several older Japanese folk who alternated between looks of terror and looks of absolute befuddlement. Turns out that Sandy and I tied for 13th most patriotic. He, a JET from some village north of Tokyo, had also arrived on a night bus with time to kill before his afternoon flight. So we killed some time.

We killed a lot of time.
















The line grew, people queuing down the block like ants behind a particularly insurmountable twig. A man passed out paper Japanese flags. I snacked on my box of combini chocolates. My toes went numb. The sun crept across the intersection toward us, carefully warming inch after slow inch of asphalt.

Finally, we moved. It was after ten in the morning. I had waited almost 3 hours to see a guy whose name I still don't know.















After a quick security check, we were on the lawn. We waited. The sun warmed my back. I saw people trying to inch out of my shadow's reach. Sometimes it is good to be tall.

I ate more chocolate.

















And then all of a sudden it was here, the moment for which we had spent all morning waiting. We were crossing the bridge into the Imperial Palace, Tokyo sprawling in every direction from this ancient grassy knoll.

As the crowd swelled across the bridge and flowed up the curving driveway though yet another set of gates, I wondered if this was what the Russian peasants felt like when they stormed the Winter Palace.


Yeah, it was probs a little different for them.