The title of this blog is a rough translation of the salutations exchanged after the passing of the New Year-serious business. I have spent this past week thinking about how different this year's New Year celebration was from previous one's. For instance, last year, I was in Mexico on the beach (or close to it at least, John, Jesus, Zach, ya'll know what I mean). Years before I was in Seattle on lake Washington living it up with a close crew of my good old friends, smoking cigars, all pretending we liked the taste, drinking a bit champagne, not knowing that tobacco and champagne isn't the best combination, and watching a firework show on the distant lake shore. From my past experiences on New Years in the Western world I have deduced that the hours between the closing and opening of a new year have become a glorified excuse to get together and party down with the people you love, care about, or met for the first time because you were wearing the same comical 2008 glasses. I'm not saying this is bad, by no means would I dare say that. It's that in Japan my experience was wildly different.
For one, on New Year's day, Kyoto was busy bustling, like I have never seen it. As I have stated before, when I went to the super market to buy fermented beans, noodles, and cabbage the store was a busy as I had ever seen it. This can be said for numerous places across the world-everybody has to prepare for a party, whatever form it may take. The party is what differed the most from my past experiences. Instead of running around like crazy to invite as many as of your friends to your temporarily open house flowing with dry snacks and cheap beer, a majority of kids my age go home, period. I asked one of my from Kana what she planned to do for the New Year and she gave me that same answer. She went home to Saitama-ken (ken is prefecture) to visit her family and chow down on the special foods made around this time of year. So, as a traveler in Japan, I did as the Japanese did: a group of my dorm mates and I got together and made nabe (hot pot) with cabbage, onion, tofu, mushrooms, renkon (a hard circular, perforated, white vegetable), udon noodles and the special New Year ingredient MOCHI. Mochi is pounded and reformed gluttonous rice. When added to soup is softens and makes for a starchy, yet delicious treat, and like rice, sucks up any and all flavours. WARNING: mochi is not easy to swallow! Every year, a handful of people die around the New Year holiday as a result of choking on mochi.
Nabe, and mochi, the culprit resting on the top of the savoury bowl of deliciousness
On a lighter, less deadly note, the nabe was delicious. So delicious that we even forgot about our friend who drank until he fell asleep before all the ingredients were cut for the festive meal. He's just fine, and hey who wouldn't want to lose a few pounds around the holiday season. After the nabe I biked, without drinking, two blocks to the closest temple-two and a half blocks away is the second closest temple-to meet our old friend Junko for a special midnight celebration. Waiting at that empty intersection was a really amazing experience, but don't worry I'm not that easily entertained. As I waited there for Junko and crew to show up, old men women, parents with babes in arm, and couples rushed past me to enter the temple just minutes before the clock struck twelve. Kyoto is known for its abundance of temples, and let me tell you, I came to realize this in a very interesting way that night. In the previous entry I said that people who go to temples on New Year line up to ring a ceremonial bell 108 times, symbolizing the 108 Buddhist sins. So, as I watched my foggy breath fade in the florescent street lamps, I was enveloped in the vibrations of what sounded like 100's of temples around me. It was a wicked ass few minutes before my crew showed up, just in time to count down.
3, 2, 1. Just like that it was over, not a soul in the temple made a sound when the year turned over, they just kept on ringing and soon it was my turn. I rang the bell and received a half-deep bow from the fine-dressed monk. Afterwards, we were served piping hot sweet sake (amazake) that had a very thick, mealy, yet enjoyable texture to it. The night finished out like anyother after our outing to the temple: sitting around the kitchen table, drinking, and telling jokes from our respective countries, about the nationalities that were present at the time. This is have found to be an amazing way of bridging cultural gaps, take note UN.
Just look at those robes
I am almost done with my classes for this term and am working as hard as I can to pass the time until I go home. On that note, a Shout Out to my hard working cousin Simone who is soon to be published in Seventeen magazine, Sam, and Mavis, the Mackoff crew from L.A. and some of my most avid readers. Love and miss you guys. I'll see you at the Scrabble table next time we meet, so start brushing up on your vocab.
Until Next Time.
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