11 February 2012
We went to Yokohama to see our old friend from 20 years ago, Junko, and to meet Junko's mother and her younger sister Ritsuko. We were given a huge dose of Japanese graciousness and "over the top" generosity. Junko came to our hotel and took us to her mother's house in a taxi. The house was about average size by Japanese standards, in the suburbs of Yokohama, which means that small farms are still around. Most of the farmers have too little land left in agricultural use, in such locations, to make a living off it, but they often rent out housing they have built on the rest of their land, and continue to farm small bits as a sideline.
As soon as we had entered the house, taken off our shoes, and exchanged bows with Mrs. Inokuma and Ritsuko, we were asked to come and "say hello" to her husband. I half expected to see an elderly man in bed, but, in the room, there was a photograph of a distinguished parliament member, looking in his 70's, and, next to the picture was a small alter with some greenery and incense. Then I remembered that Junko's father had died. I'd forgotten when, but was reminded that it was about five years ago. We knelt at the alter, bowed with our hands together, and lit incense sticks which we left burning in a tray of sand. Mrs. Inokuma beamed and said she knew he was very glad to meet us.
Then we went upstairs in our slippers. The "family" room is cozy and small. It has not only the dining table, and all the books and DVDs, but the "big screen" as well. There is no central heating in most Japanese houses, but there are electric space heaters and, if you move under the warm comforter that is under the dining room table, and stick your feet into the clandestine foot well (it looks as though you are sitting on the floor, with your legs tucked behind you, as if you were a proper Japanese, but only you and your hosts know that you are "cheating"), you will stay warm. I even took off my jacket, whereupon the patriarch's honored sweater was brought out and put over my shoulders.
Japanese people are not fond of conversation, so, before dinner, Junko had us do calligraphy, which is a quasi-ceremonial thing people do to welcome in the New Year. We see endless possibilities, and have already bought beginners' sets for use at home. Then came dinner which was an endless number of small and large dishes, some Western, and most Japanese. I couldn't, and won't list them. The evening was sentimental to a degree we aren't used to, but to which we responded like kids.
When we left, we weren't allowed to pay for the taxi home. We learned from Junko, who has risen in the government and is now working internationally to attract other Asian investment to Japan, and Ritsuko, who is a journalist, expert in Japan's problems with the "greying" of its population, about "giri", and "ninjo", which consider the inter-weaving of the emotions related to "gratitude" and "obligation" and emotions related to "generosity" and "dependent intimacy".
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