Saturday I made a trip to my favorite Asian grocery in Minneapolis. Only my youngest, Mr. Man, was interested in joining me for a shopping outing.
We had a good trip, he loved his treat: Peach Calpis (which, I have to say, is really an unfortunate brand name. Sure, カルピス is fine in Japanese, but in America, it sounds to my ear ever so close to "cow piss", y'know?).
In any case, recently Mr. Man has been in love with the Shimajiro Potty training - because he's just recently switched to being a "pa-pa-pantsu man!" himself.. And especially while we were at the Asian grocery and he was hearing different languages - for whatever reason he got very interested in Japanese for a change. (Side note: I am not raising bilingual children. They are uninterested, for the most part, in learning Japanese. Believe me I've tried.) At first, though I was REALLY confused.
Mr Man: "Mama, mama. Talk 'sheen to me."
Me: Machine? huh?
MM: Yeah. Talk a-ma-sheen to me.
Me: Like Motors? Bruum Bruum?
MM: (Getting upset) NO!! Ma-sheen!! You know..like using the potty...
Me: Machine?? Like computer?
MM: Yeah.. like on the computer! SHAKA!! SHAKA ganuzu!!!
Me: Huh?
MM: SHAKA GA NUNU!
Me: Oh, wait! You mean: Talk Japanese to you?
MM: (Relieved that his idiot mother is finally making sense) YES!
Me: Oh, like Shimajiro: お仲がむずむずする? Onaka ga muzu muzu suru?
MM: YAH! SHAKA!!!!Shaka ga nu nu.
Me: uh huh. よく出来たね。Yoku dekita!
MM: Shaka! Shaka!
Me: (laughing) Chaka Khan! Chaka Khan!
----
He didn't get my Chaka Khan reference at all, of course.
After this interlude of talking Japanese / 80s music to each other (and Michael likes it, to a point, then tells me to "talk like his mommy" instead) we stopped for lunch. There's a Culvers near us that has a group of folks (The Culvers Jammers) that meets and plays Blue Grass each Saturday afternoon. It's wonderful to sit and hear the mandolin, banjo, fiddles and bass (and some assorted zither players..but maybe that's called the auto-harp?). It feels like a sweet little slice of small-town America and the walleye sandwich isn't bad either. Michael swings his legs on his too-big-for-him chair and picks at his cheeseburger, I sigh as they fall into the chorus. And then it hits me: I truly have the best of all possible worlds.
I have the city - because I work downtown and we can basically have our pick of any kind of fine dining or cultural outing we desire. (And the Twin Cities does seem to be a hot-bed for theatre and has a lively music scene..)
I have the country - because we live on 2.5 acres where it isn't unusual to see people ride by on their horses or hear the occasional whine of a dirt bike or ATV...or hear nothing but the wind in the trees. And at the neighborhood "National Night Out" talk was more on coyote sightings and keeping deer out of our gardens then on break-ins or vandalism. We can grow flowers and plants, burn stuff in our fire pit.. and the kids ride around on the John Deere tractor and in the '73 Chevy pickup and call themselves "Country Girls" without a trace of irony. (Well, not Mr. Man. He just rides his bike around and around making dirt bike noises and announces that he's riding his motor bike.)
I still have tinges of my Japanese life. We take our shoes off and store them in the genkan. (Even if the kids don't know what a genkan is..) My rice cooker is used plenty frequently and we eat 焼肉 complete with real 焼き肉のたれ at least once or twice a week. We have a deep tub and family style お風呂 complete with Japanese bath salts. (Note to those who don't know about Japanese ofuro: In a Japanese bath an extra-deep tub is filled to the top with very hot water in which you sit submerged up to the neck. Most people spend about half an hour in the bath every night. Most children take their baths with their father or mother until they are in the upper grades of elementary school. The family tub is an important place for parent-child communication.) My kids know a smattering of Japanese words and want to eat with chopsticks. They like rice. And Miyazaki movies such as: Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi (千と千尋の神隠し).
And, I still have the comfort of all that is familiar, too. My favorite tea, incense and all the books I could hope to read. Clothes that fit, and that are cheap, too!
Everything that was a bit difficult about life in Japan is something that is easier here in the States. I don't stick out like a sore thumb, I blend in. I'm free to mix and match from cultures and holidays and beliefs and perspectives - and my kids are all the richer for the diversity. And, when I want my kids to have an experience like I did as a child (riding bikes on their own around the neighborhood, Sunday School, Christmas Caroling, Girl Scouts) - we've ended up being fortunate there, too.
For all the angst and worry I had when I was younger trying to figure out where to make a life - what I forgot is that life would be what I (we) make it. (Sheesh. Now I'm quoting Talk Talk : "Life's What you Make it.") It's amazing that it's ended up being exactly what I would have wanted. Little by little, bit by bit. As if I'd drawn up a wish list and one by one every wish has been granted. Even ones that might not have occurred to me in all my infinite wisdom in my 20s. And still. Life has turned out so much better than I could have planned on my own.
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