Painting flowers on laughing soil

My mom and my younger brother recently came to Japan on a flying visit. They were here for a week and it was absolutely wonderful to see them. It was fun getting to show them around my world, but I’ve only really just recovered from a month long cold (coupled with a few weeks of intense stress from my personal life that I don’t want to go into detail about just yet), so I was exhausted.

It's not a Japanese experience unless you make weird faces!

My lil brother is not so little anymore! But we have a mutual love of boba!

 They don’t speak a word of Japanese, so it was interesting coming home from work to hear about how they managed to navigate around. All in all though, it seemed like they had a good time!

In fact, they arrived just in time for one of the most beautiful acts of spring revival I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing (twice now): The blooming of the sakura trees.

The Japanese celebrate this fleeting beauty, this transition, blah blah blah, by having what are known as “Hanami” parties. The kanji for “hanami” is a combination of the characters of “flower” and “to see”, so it’s roughly translated as “Flower Viewing”.

Honestly, I hate hanami.

Wait, before you kick me out of the country or bite my head off Mortal Kombat style, let me explain. I halfway take it back. I don’t hate the act of going outside, relaxing, marveling at the change of seasons and looking at the flowers, I hate the “parties” associated with it. Traditional “hanami” entails hordes of people descending on parks and riverwalks, laying garish blue tarps all over, getting mad drunk and leaving behind a mess of cans and echoes of unruly noise.

Ladies and Gentlemen, this is ugly hanami

 Call me crotchety, but that’s not beautiful at all. It’s irritating. It’s not necessarily the crowds, because I don’t mind them at the beach whatsoever. The atmosphere of the seaside is much more conducive to that sort of boisterous energy.

I think I get frustrated because I have I very idealized and romanticized notion of hanami. To me, it should be like sitting outside and watching the arrival of a summer storm. I enjoy that stillness, that reflective period. Sakura flowers exude quiet beauty and grace. They are small, they aren’t fragrant, and when they die it’s like the streets are swept with soft pink snow. They glide into full bloom and then drift away.

Luckily, in the wanderings I made with my family across Tokyo, I believe I’ve found my new favorite place to go and take in the sakura. In the middle of Roppongi- that sleazy den of foreigners scouring the clubs for hot Japanese chicks – is a sprawling cemetery. There are some notable graves there, but the only one that is coming to mind at the moment is the loyal dog Hachiko.

Because it’s a cemetery, most folks don’t bother going in because of ghosts and ghoulies, but the place is filled with sakura trees. I was able to take some great photos, enjoy the shade and meander around in near perfect serenity. This will be my hanami spot from now on!

"They are all perfect"

Serenity and sakura.