Today I'm grateful. While I'm alone on Christmas Eve, staying in a hotel destroyed by the tsunami back in March, this newly rebuilt and refurbished building is a reminder of birth and rebirth. It's like Christmas meets Easter all in one season.
Today I'm grateful. I'm grateful to be alive. I'm grateful for my family who arrives in Japan in two days. I'm grateful for my new adopted brothers here in Ofunato who have taken good care of me and shown me incredible generosity. I'm grateful for those here who are trying hard to move on with their lives, as each day brings a mixture of hope and frustration. I'm grateful for those who stayed behind to continue with the rebuilding of Tohoku through sheer devotion to the prospects and plans for economic recovery.
I'm grateful for family and friends from near and far who have continued to offer help in the form of concern, time, support (emotional, financial, and spiritual), laughter, harsh words, and love.
I'm grateful for my husband who has let me go with the understanding I will come back. I'm grateful for my son who questions what his mother is doing but not enough to complain.
I'm grateful for the kids who squealed with delight as a city council member dressed up as a reindeer entered their classrooms ringing bells, announcing the arrival of presents.
I'm grateful for grown men who can dress up as reindeer for the kids in their town. I'm grateful for men who take a day off from work to help deliver gifts of candy.
Yes, I miss my family. Yes, it's hard sitting in a hotel room once destroyed by a giant wave. Tonight, gratitude outweighs any sentiment of loneliness or grief. For that, too, I'm grateful.
Showing posts with label reindeer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reindeer. Show all posts
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Ofunato Stories: Part 1
My fifth trip to Ofunato this year showed me a very different town. Not having a "before" image to compare it to, I can only see the progress made as the city worked to clean up the massive amount of debris left by the tsunami. The part of the town near the port is now completely cleaned up. The foundations of houses and buildings remain but the everything else is gone. The few remaining buildings, those made of concrete and strong enough to withstand the waves are back in business or still being repaired.
Those I spoke to still speak of the event in March as if it was yesterday. There is hope for the future, but there is also a profound sense of loss, confusion, frustration, and those who wonder what to do next.
I met with the gang of relief-supply deliverers. The group is as jovial as usual, teasing each other, making fun of how skinny one is or how fat another is. I am again humbled by the fact they let me into their tightly-knit bonds of friendship. I think of them as my adopted cousins, and uncles. They matter.
We shared stories. Our hopes for what is to come, their grief over what they lost was mixed with laughter, food, and the prerequisite alcohol.
"Tell me about this Mrs. Claus thing we've heard about," the youngest of the group says. I grin.
"Well," I begin, "I'll be here again next week. I have a Mrs. Claus costume that makes me look like a plump grandmother."
"Not one of those skimpy things?" the eldest of the group asks.
"I'm handing out candy to kids, so no. Not the skimpy-looking thing. This isn't something I'm doing for middle-aged men, you know." I grin again.
"I think she just called you 'old'," Kazu-san says.
"I did not!" I object. Everyone laughs.
"So, Mrs. Claus, candy, kids. You know where you're going?"
"Kazu-san set things up for me. I'm going to three day care centers and the orphanage."
They all nod.
"That's a good thing you're doing," the balding Taro-san says, suddenly serious.
"It's for the kids," I reply. "I'd do anything to make them laugh. Even if that means I dress up like a frumpy looking grandmother. Oh, and I'm going to pretend I don't speak Japanese. Kazu-san's going to interpret for me. I figure I might as well try to be the real Mrs. Claus, right? There's no way she'd speak Japanese."
"Kazu's going to interpret for you? That won't do," Susumu-san says.
"Hey!" Kazu-san objects. "We've got it all worked out. She's giving me a script."
"You're not going to read from it, right?" Taro-san says and they all laugh again.
"I'll be fine. Where's the trust?"
"Trust? Trust you? We know better." More laughter.
"I've got it!" The city council member bangs the table.
"You need Kazu to wear a tux."
"A tux? No, not a tux. An elf, maybe." My dead-pan and totally serious comment is met with cheers.
"What does an elf wear?" Kazu-san asks, not sure he likes this.
"Well, green tights, for one. A green or red shirt, and shorts or something." I try to conjure up an elf in my mind as I say this. Everyone laughs. Taro-san falls over he's laughing so hard.
"Okay. If Kazu's going to wear green tights then I'm in, too," the city council member says.
"Really? What are you going to be?" I ask.
"A reindeer."
Taro-san, now upright says, "I'll be the hind legs. The butt!"
"Good! I'll be the front and you be the butt." With that, the city council officer and Taro-san start planning their costumes.
Enter Kazu-san's younger brother.
"Sorry I'm late!"
"Elf Two!!" Kazu-san yells.
"What?" Younger brother is clearly confused.
"I'm going to be Amya's interpreter for the Mrs. Claus thing. You go, too. I'm Elf One. You're Elf Two."
"Okaaay," Shige-san agrees very cautiously and then is told about the green costume he has to wear including the green tights.
"Don't elves have those pointy shoes?" he asks.
"Right. That and a hat. The hat has to have a bell on the end of it," I say.
"Where am I going to find a hat like that?" Shige-san is not sure he likes being volunteered to wear tights in public.
"You make it, idiot," older brother scolds him.
"Oh."
The rest of the night was spent planning the route, negotiating whether or not I could get a sleigh ("with bells and lights?" I ask), which schools were located on top of a hill ("downhill would be better if we're going to pull you") and adding two high schools to the mix of places we'll visit.
I did not see this coming. My plan was to go to Ofunato on the 22nd dressed as Mrs. Claus, handing out Christmas candy to kids who've had a very tough year, and hoping to make them smile. That I'd end up with a sleigh, two reindeer, two elves, and drivers to shuttle us to and from these various facilities, I'm again humbled.
Be careful what you ask for. Indeed.
Those I spoke to still speak of the event in March as if it was yesterday. There is hope for the future, but there is also a profound sense of loss, confusion, frustration, and those who wonder what to do next.
I met with the gang of relief-supply deliverers. The group is as jovial as usual, teasing each other, making fun of how skinny one is or how fat another is. I am again humbled by the fact they let me into their tightly-knit bonds of friendship. I think of them as my adopted cousins, and uncles. They matter.
We shared stories. Our hopes for what is to come, their grief over what they lost was mixed with laughter, food, and the prerequisite alcohol.
"Tell me about this Mrs. Claus thing we've heard about," the youngest of the group says. I grin.
"Well," I begin, "I'll be here again next week. I have a Mrs. Claus costume that makes me look like a plump grandmother."
"Not one of those skimpy things?" the eldest of the group asks.
"I'm handing out candy to kids, so no. Not the skimpy-looking thing. This isn't something I'm doing for middle-aged men, you know." I grin again.
"I think she just called you 'old'," Kazu-san says.
"I did not!" I object. Everyone laughs.
"So, Mrs. Claus, candy, kids. You know where you're going?"
"Kazu-san set things up for me. I'm going to three day care centers and the orphanage."
They all nod.
"That's a good thing you're doing," the balding Taro-san says, suddenly serious.
"It's for the kids," I reply. "I'd do anything to make them laugh. Even if that means I dress up like a frumpy looking grandmother. Oh, and I'm going to pretend I don't speak Japanese. Kazu-san's going to interpret for me. I figure I might as well try to be the real Mrs. Claus, right? There's no way she'd speak Japanese."
"Kazu's going to interpret for you? That won't do," Susumu-san says.
"Hey!" Kazu-san objects. "We've got it all worked out. She's giving me a script."
"You're not going to read from it, right?" Taro-san says and they all laugh again.
"I'll be fine. Where's the trust?"
"Trust? Trust you? We know better." More laughter.
"I've got it!" The city council member bangs the table.
"You need Kazu to wear a tux."
"A tux? No, not a tux. An elf, maybe." My dead-pan and totally serious comment is met with cheers.
"What does an elf wear?" Kazu-san asks, not sure he likes this.
"Well, green tights, for one. A green or red shirt, and shorts or something." I try to conjure up an elf in my mind as I say this. Everyone laughs. Taro-san falls over he's laughing so hard.
"Okay. If Kazu's going to wear green tights then I'm in, too," the city council member says.
"Really? What are you going to be?" I ask.
"A reindeer."
Taro-san, now upright says, "I'll be the hind legs. The butt!"
"Good! I'll be the front and you be the butt." With that, the city council officer and Taro-san start planning their costumes.
Enter Kazu-san's younger brother.
"Sorry I'm late!"
"Elf Two!!" Kazu-san yells.
"What?" Younger brother is clearly confused.
"I'm going to be Amya's interpreter for the Mrs. Claus thing. You go, too. I'm Elf One. You're Elf Two."
"Okaaay," Shige-san agrees very cautiously and then is told about the green costume he has to wear including the green tights.
"Don't elves have those pointy shoes?" he asks.
"Right. That and a hat. The hat has to have a bell on the end of it," I say.
"Where am I going to find a hat like that?" Shige-san is not sure he likes being volunteered to wear tights in public.
"You make it, idiot," older brother scolds him.
"Oh."
The rest of the night was spent planning the route, negotiating whether or not I could get a sleigh ("with bells and lights?" I ask), which schools were located on top of a hill ("downhill would be better if we're going to pull you") and adding two high schools to the mix of places we'll visit.
I did not see this coming. My plan was to go to Ofunato on the 22nd dressed as Mrs. Claus, handing out Christmas candy to kids who've had a very tough year, and hoping to make them smile. That I'd end up with a sleigh, two reindeer, two elves, and drivers to shuttle us to and from these various facilities, I'm again humbled.
Be careful what you ask for. Indeed.
Labels:
candy,
children,
Christmas,
elves,
Iwate,
Japan,
Japanese culture,
Mrs. Claus,
ofunato,
orphanages,
reindeer,
Tohoku
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