I have been trying for a few of days to put into words the fantastic day we had in Tokyo with our friend Emiko. It has taken me a while, but I think this almost does it justice.
We arranged to meet at our hostel - Emiko making the 2 hour journey from her home in Tokorozawa City to meet us at 11am. I was a bit nervous but very excited to finally meet someone I have been exchanging emails with for 6 months. We are staying in a lovely hostel, but as you can imagine it is full of gaijin - foreigners. There are a few people around when this exquisite lady in a beautiful mauve kimono comes to the door, and we get a few stares as we greet her.
I have noticed a few ladies in kimono in Tokyo, but they have always been on their own, and I have noticed the quiet respect and delight that they get from Japanese and gaijin alike. We invite Emiko in and sit at the communual table to discuss what we are going to do. This turns into a discusion about kimono, and we spend some time looking at the books Emiko has thoughtfully brought with her and discussing (well, learning from an expert) some basics of kimono culture, design and meaning.
I am particularly interested in the various ways kimono styles have hidden meanings. Waving the long sleeves of the furisode kimono is very sexy and designed to 'attract a mans' soul', and unmarried ladies only fold their obiage, while married ladies tie theirs in a knot - very similar to the English phrase 'to tie the knot'.
Andy spent some of the previous day in a second hand kimono store and has caught the bug as well - he asked lots of questions about mens kimono, but was a bit disappointed to learn that the only time men really wear kimono these days is when they get married. Given that he wears his yukata around the house most of the time in England, I think he has got his mind set on a full kimono replacement. Emiko is very easy to talk to with a great sense of humour, and explains everything very clearly. Eventually we realise time is getting on and we decide to head to the kimono store for more advanced lessons before going to a lovely old garden in a different part of Tokyo.
As we walk for quarter of a hour to the store we chat to Emiko, who tells us the story of how Japanese ladies started wearing underwear. Apparently, what one wore (and still wears) under a kimono is an under-kimono. And not a lot else. This was fine for centuries, and the Japanese enjoyed the breeze. One day, not altogether a very long time ago, there was a fire in Tokyo and many ladies ran up to the roof. Mattresses were brought, but the ladies were too embarrassed to jump. After this incident 'undershorts' became popular under kimono, much to many a modern mans disappointment!
We spand a happy hour in the Kimono store having an illustrated masterclass in C20th kimono. Many of the kimono, both ladies and mans, were just pre or post-war, and we could compare styles (furisode, tomesode, homongi, kumon), fabric designs, including regional designs and techniques, under-kimono, formal obi, informal obi, crests, and lots else. Although we were very tempted, we did not buy - in particular I didn't buy a pretty, unusual dark red silk kimono, that was actually long enough for me! Very restrained, I thought.
Eventually we realised that we'd better go and do something else, so we wandered along the atmospheric Asakusa streets, stopping at a tofu shop to buy a snack of tofu, taro, ginko nut and shitake fritters (that's all in one fritter) and yuba. We eventually made our way to the water taxi to head to Hama-Rikyu Gardens.
The gardens are right by the river, so we wandered directly from the quay into a beautiful formal park, with lots of pools, elegant trees and an entire orchestra of insects. We chatted with Emiko and eventually end up at the Ochaya for refreshment. The beautiful tea house had it's paper screen doors open to catch the breeze and show the lovely view over the lake, set off by a seasonal ikebana arrangement.
Emiko arranged for us to have matcha tea, and taught us about the tea ceremony, how to sit, how to bow, how to hold and turn the bowl of tea to show off the pattern, and about the sweetmeat we were served before the tea. The particular design we had was called 'sound of insects' and is only served in early autumn. It was a scrummy, tooth-achingly sweet morsel made from green bean paste on the outside and red bean paste on the inside, and perfectly set off the bitter tea drunk immediately afterwards. Emiko was a great teacher, even when demonstrating how to be a dutiful Japanese wife fanning her husband (I am not sure the cheeky smile was in the rules!)
We admired the rest of the garden, and left to go to the Kabuki Theatre in Ginza via Tokyo's tortuous train system. It was a complete pleasure being with Emiko, as not only did her sunny and open personality shine, she was also endearingly unaccustomed to navigating around Tokyo, so would accost a random stranger every 100 yards or so to ask the way.
Eventually we found our way to the theatre, and had a quick drink before the play we were to see started. Kabuki, it turns out, is a little like restoration comedy, with hints of opera and pantomine. The plot was easy to understand thanks to a discrete earpiece and erudite advice from Emiko. The costumes were fabulous, the action stylised and intricate, punctuated by the clop of woodblocks that designated specific scenes - a fight, or a particular speech. The whole thing was enormously interesting and entertaining, despite the size of the seating in an historical Japanese theatre!
After the play we escorted Emiko to her station, and then had a quick and delicious tempura meal just off Ginza, before heading home after one of the most memorable days of the trip so far. What a happy Ellen I was!
Many, many thanks are due, not only to Emiko herself for giving up one of her days off to educate us, but also to Iain and his parents who made the initial introduction that brought about the meeting. I very much look forward to showing Emiko round the Cotswolds whenever she makes it to Britain again.