Home Beckons

Image by chikache

The window fan merely moved the stifling July air around the living room as sweat gathered on my forehead, but I still considered fixing a cup of hot green tea.

A few minutes earlier, while searching for a photo of our new house shutters to send to my aunt in North Carolina, a stray picture fluttered to the floor. “How’d that get in there with these new pictures?” I wondered, staring at hundreds of rooftops spanning out as far as the edges of the photo would allow. Tokyo! Tokyo taken a few years before from the window of my room at the Royal Park Hotel in the southern Chuo-ku area of the city – ah yes, that was the day…

“Dang, I wish I could have scheduled my business meetings all in one week so that I didn’t have to stay the weekend,” I thought, on that hot, hazy July morning in Tokyo. Though tempted to stay in my room all day, I picked up my wallet, put a city map in my pocket, and started out the door.

This was my fourth trip to Japan, but the first traveling without a colleague from the U.S. The previous four days had flown by in a whirlwind of trains, planes, buses, and taxis as our agent and I visited customers from Tokushima in the south to Hakodate in the northern island of Hokkaido. Now, a long weekend in Tokyo yawned before me as my usual sense of adventure lost out to loneliness and a strong urge to go home.

I walked aimlessly down the busy sidewalk. Gray skies and monochrome buildings towered over hoards of black- and gray-clad strangers; colors to match my mood. Should I take the train to Shinjuku or Ginza to shop? Find a temple or museum? I stopped at a corner pastry shop, but the daifuku, with its azuki bean paste and sticky rice, while tasty, only reminded me of how much I wanted a Krispy Kreme. Turning around, I started to retrace my steps. “I’ll just go back to my room, work on the computer, and watch 12 hours of CNN,” I thought gloomily.

Halfway back to the hotel, I paused in front of a small pottery shop. The open doorway beckoned to me and two old women called out a welcome in unison. “Irashimase!” The beautiful Japanese handy work lining the walls and center table also drew me into the shop. I moved slowly around the small room admiring teacups, sake sets, rice and noodle bowls, teapots, chopstick holders, and sauce plates. The two women followed me with watchful eyes.

Without saying a word, I marveled at the rich colors, mainly in multiple browns and blues, with an occasional piece in deep blood red or moss green. I admired cups and bowls with traditional Japanese themes hand-painted on them, some boldly, others delicately – sailing ships, koi fish, cranes, cherry blossoms, dragonflies, and intriguing written characters whose meaning will always remain a mystery to me.

Circling the room again, I smiled at the animals etched into the children’s ware – cats, dogs, rabbits, and dragons; all recognizable, yet with a distinct Japanese artistic twist. Picking up several items, I fingered the different finishes of the pieces; the rough stoneware and the incredibly smooth porcelain, and wondered why typical American dinnerware is so predictably smooth and symmetrical. Why not uneven, and odd-shaped, and wonderfully unique like these?

My mood softened as an hour slipped away in quiet exploration. Finally, I pointed to four small blue and white bowls with a tiny painted dragonfly flitting across each center. The women prepared them in typical Japanese style – placed carefully in wooden boxes, and then beautifully wrapped, as though intended as a present especially for me.

I reached for the package, beginning to bow and back toward the door, but they motioned for me to sit. Confused, I nevertheless, sat down, while they disappeared into the back of the shop. Several moments passed, and I began to think that I had misunderstood. Just as I rose to leave, they returned with a tray and three rust-brown teacups filled with hot green tea! And so, with sweat on my forehead, I sat and drank hot tea in silence with these two old grandmotherly women…suddenly not so alone after all and not really so very far from home.

Unable to communicate through words, these two ladies touched me by sharing their tea time with me. After finding the photo of the Tokyo rooftops, I rummaged though the back of my cupboards, finding the bowls from this memorable day in Japan. They will reclaim a spot in the front of my cupboard again – ready reminders of a good day and a welcome cup of tea.