Stories circulate within the JET community about a most curious and wonderful phenomenon called “obāsan adoption” (obāsan = grandmother). From the moment a new JET enters Tokyo, rumors of old Japanese ladies and their incredible kindness towards lost and confused foreigners are heard and remembered. JET publications seemed filled with tales of foreigners who couldn’t find their train or the grocery store and are then suddenly rescued by an old lady who takes it upon herself to adopt the JET and provide a year of hot meals and guided trips around the countryside.
These stories are heartwarming and pleasant…and to those who have never experienced obāsan adoption, these stories are enviable.
I’ve been in Japan for about 16 months now and have been on the look out for my obāsan every single day. When I walk around town and see an old lady, I’ll act lost or injured or look really sad in hopes she’ll take pity on me. When I’m at the train station, I’ll stare at the time table and kind of whimper if a grandmother is near. And sometimes I ask my students, “Does your grandmother cook you dinner? I’m a bad cook…do you think she could cook me dinner?” But alas, I’ve never found my obāsan.
That is, until just last week!
I was touring around Kyoto and had decided to take the subway instead of the exploding-capacity city buses. When I reached my stop and exited the train, I heard a soft but confident voice ask, “Are you a visitor?” I turned and saw no one…but then a strong hand pulled on my sleeve and I looked down to see a smiling old Japanese lady. “Yes, I am,” I said, and then she showed me a ticket for a bonsai tree exhibition (bonsai trees are the little, crafted trees whose beauty is found in their tranquility and strength). “It’s very near,” she said and then I did my awkward smile-puzzled face.
After a short Japanese-English exchange, I discerned that she was learning English and wanted to practice with a native speaker. She also had an extra ticket to a bonsai exhibition and was inviting me to go with her. I had plans to see other things in the city, but I knew I couldn’t pass up this shot at obāsan adoption…so I left the subway station with her and confidently jaywalked to the exhibition hall (she was really excited and just ran across the street…I followed hoping no one would ticket an old lady/foreigner duo).
Once inside the hall, we joined about 200 Japanese adults who were in their 50s, 60s, 70s…90s…Japanese people remain active well into their senior years…in a tour of about 150 bonsai trees and other amazing rock carvings and carefully crafted plants (all very Zen). My obāsan taught me all the different tree names and I taught her words like “acorn” and “squirrel”. I really enjoyed looking at all the trees—many of them having a fantasy world appeal—and I think the old Japanese people enjoyed seeing me and obāsan chatting together in English.
Afterwards, obāsan treated me to lunch and repeatedly interrogated me to make sure I was safe and knew how to get to my hostel and how to get back home later. It was great! We parted ways and I resumed my touring schedule feeling well cared for.
These stories are heartwarming and pleasant…and to those who have never experienced obāsan adoption, these stories are enviable.
I’ve been in Japan for about 16 months now and have been on the look out for my obāsan every single day. When I walk around town and see an old lady, I’ll act lost or injured or look really sad in hopes she’ll take pity on me. When I’m at the train station, I’ll stare at the time table and kind of whimper if a grandmother is near. And sometimes I ask my students, “Does your grandmother cook you dinner? I’m a bad cook…do you think she could cook me dinner?” But alas, I’ve never found my obāsan.
That is, until just last week!
I was touring around Kyoto and had decided to take the subway instead of the exploding-capacity city buses. When I reached my stop and exited the train, I heard a soft but confident voice ask, “Are you a visitor?” I turned and saw no one…but then a strong hand pulled on my sleeve and I looked down to see a smiling old Japanese lady. “Yes, I am,” I said, and then she showed me a ticket for a bonsai tree exhibition (bonsai trees are the little, crafted trees whose beauty is found in their tranquility and strength). “It’s very near,” she said and then I did my awkward smile-puzzled face.
After a short Japanese-English exchange, I discerned that she was learning English and wanted to practice with a native speaker. She also had an extra ticket to a bonsai exhibition and was inviting me to go with her. I had plans to see other things in the city, but I knew I couldn’t pass up this shot at obāsan adoption…so I left the subway station with her and confidently jaywalked to the exhibition hall (she was really excited and just ran across the street…I followed hoping no one would ticket an old lady/foreigner duo).
Once inside the hall, we joined about 200 Japanese adults who were in their 50s, 60s, 70s…90s…Japanese people remain active well into their senior years…in a tour of about 150 bonsai trees and other amazing rock carvings and carefully crafted plants (all very Zen). My obāsan taught me all the different tree names and I taught her words like “acorn” and “squirrel”. I really enjoyed looking at all the trees—many of them having a fantasy world appeal—and I think the old Japanese people enjoyed seeing me and obāsan chatting together in English.
Afterwards, obāsan treated me to lunch and repeatedly interrogated me to make sure I was safe and knew how to get to my hostel and how to get back home later. It was great! We parted ways and I resumed my touring schedule feeling well cared for.
4 comments:
After reading your blog, I immediately opened up iTunes and began listening to Air's "Lost in Kyoto." In fact it's playing right now. I always think about you when this song is on, and now, well, I imagine that won't change.
You see Justin, you were never lost in Kyoto. You were found. And that, that's the heartwarming moral.
I think all of my posts should have heartwarming morals.
Baker
Ahem. Substitute all of my above "lost"'s with "alone".
It's "Alone in Kyoto"
We can only picture the images of you and your adopted grandmother hurrying down the street to the exhibit - what a sweet and refreshing moment. Glad it worked out.
Love - Mom & Dad
i love everyone!
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