The Cherry Blossom Rarely Smiles

by Ioana Lee

  “Otoosan, it’s not your fault. Your family and mine have the most special and understanding parents that a child could have. It’s not Ken’s fault. It’s not my fault either. It makes no sense to waste our time and energy apologizing for what has happened. Ken is an exceptional man but I want something else from life. I have a good soul, but I don’t seem to know how to be a good wife. Things are simple. We are separating because being together doesn’t make us better people. We all have to learn how to become strong again. I can’t live with a man who always makes me cry and Ken can’t live with a woman who makes him sad. Now that things are clarified, let’s enjoy the next few days “Ichigo Ichi E.”[xxxix]

  Ken and I, Ayumi, her husband and their three children went to a famous spa resort. We all acted as if nothing had ever happened. I noticed that Ken and I got along much better since we became “brother and sister.” We both agreed to keep the last name, Kurosawa, so that I could still be a part of the family, if only in name. The sole condition was to give it up if I ever married again. The rest of the day was wonderful. We laughed a lot and enjoyed each other’s company.

  That evening I packed a small bag, while Ken and the little girls played around me. As soon as I closed my suitcase Ken became very anxious. The whole scene was like a déjà vu…

  “I had a book that I was reading and I can’t find it anywhere. Have you seen it?” he asked me.

  “No, I haven’t seen it. I only took a few books with me that I really wanted. There are books all over the house. Did you look everywhere?”

  “Yes I did. It is nowhere to be found. I remember bringing it into this room… You must have put it by mistake into your luggage.”

  That’s impossible, I thought to myself. I opened the suitcase, just to assure him that I didn’t take his book.

  “It’s not in here,” I told him.

  He became more and more agitated.

  “I looked for it everywhere and couldn’t find it. I’m convinced that it’s in your luggage. Let me check again.”

  His behavior made me remember why we were actually divorcing…

  “No Ken. I don’t find it normal for you to search my luggage.”

  “Why? Are you hiding something?” he asked, in a snappy tone.

  “Why are you asking me this question?”

  “Officially, I’m still your husband.”

  I was both sick of him and happy at the same time that I had to leave soon.

  “You can check my luggage if you want to.”

  He looked at every piece of clothing and searched in every small pocket.

  “I’ve never seen this lingerie? Why do you have new lingerie? Who bought it for you?”

  It was a yellow set with orange flowers that I had bought in Tokyo.

  “Ken, you were looking for a book, not for my lingerie.”

  “And this dress? This is not from me.”

  I was sick of it all.

  “I have a lover Ken. You caught me. Please put all my stuff back and leave the room… otherwise I’d tell Otoosan what you just did.”

  “Oh, no Ioana! I was just kidding. I just wanted to tease you…”

  That was Ken’s typical behavior. I refused to get upset. I knew that I wouldn’t be seeing him again. Never… That was the moment when never didn’t scare me anymore.

  Other Nipponese days

  It was a beautiful warm summer day. We drove to the spa resort for a few hours, listening to music and enjoying the breathtaking views. Once we arrived at the spa (Ryokan) we saw people wearing yukata (summer kimonos) or pajamas and sleepers or soori (wood Japanese sandals). There were two separate rooms for women and men. The women’s room was traditionally designed and had a tatami on the floor, overlooking the mountains and a big Japanese garden. It was wonderful.

  We checked in, unpacked our bags and went out to eat. To describe the richness of the Japanese cuisine requires certain abilities: either to be a chef, or know international cuisines, or to like to eat, or to be a painter. Since I’m not part of any of these categories, the only thing I can say about food is that it inspires me visually more than it inspires me by its taste.

  After a delicious meal, we came back to our room and got ready for onsen, the Japanese thermal springs, designed just like pools, which are very healthy for the body. In Japan there are two bathing rituals—one is ofuro and the other one is onsen. Ofuro is a Japanese bath in which family members dunk into the same water. It’s a ritual through which family members share intimate moments and become closer to one another. I refused to ever do this. I was more open to onsen (mineral bath).

  This type of bathing requires you to undress completely and then take a shower with many other people in the same room. I found it shocking to see that some of them even tried to socialize while showering. After you shower you got into the bath. It was very relaxing and enjoyable. Because I had to undress completely I often avoided the onsen, not because I was embarrassed but because it bothered me is to see other women naked (from 3 to 103 years old) and realize that God didn’t always send perfect people into this world.

  The showers didn’t have any curtains and were right next to each other. Ayumi and her daughters were showering freely. They seemed comfortable with the whole setting, mostly because nudity was seen as something normal in their culture. I wasn’t fully comfortable seeing my sister in law naked, even though she was pleasant to look at. I got into the shower and started washing my body quickly. I wanted to leave that embarrassing scene as soon as possible. I had a nude g-string on, which I was hoping no one would see. Unfortunately some Japanese women saw me and came straight to me, telling me why I must be completely naked. I acted astounded, as if I didn’t know any of that, and thanked them for the advice. I didn’t like seeing them partially waxed or shaved… I had the constant feeling that everyone was looking at me. The women around me were staring, without even trying to be subtle. I was the only foreign woman there. Ayumi and the girls preferred the baths inside, while I preferred the ones outside.

  It was night outside. The spa was in the mountains and the weather was quite cold. The thermal bath was warm and welcoming. It looked like a small lake, surrounded by stones, rocks, trees and flowers. Dipping my whole body in that therapeutic water was very relaxing. Lying on the rocks was meditative. The mountain air was fresh and crisp and I could hear the cicadas and the crickets singing in the background. The sky was dark and the stars seemed bigger than ever. I was alone. Most people either preferred the bath inside or had already gone to sleep, as it was fairly late. The contrast between the cold air and the warm water felt good. I somehow gained some new perspective on my life; there was a harmony between Nature and my being at last. I felt overwhelmed and content. My happiness was painful. I knew that that moment might be one of my last ones there. The stones, the crickets, the moon… Everything made me happy.

  Lonely silence,

  a single cicada's cry

  sinking into stone.

  Matsuo Bashoo

  The moon was big, round and pale, which made the place very mysterious. I found a big white rock and hugged it. Oh God, when you feel inspired there is no need for talent to write poetry. Everything around me was fascinating and writing about it brings back vivid memories… the silence of the night, the crickets’ songs, the pride of being young, feeling overwhelmed by happiness, the sadness of not having anyone around you, the feeling that I didn’t belong. I got lost in my own thoughts…

  Three women came into the pool and snapped me out of my reverie. They abruptly muddled my thoughts. I didn’t turn around to look at them; I wanted to be left alone. They started whispering, about me it seemed. I don’t know how they knew I was a foreigner, as I was still with my back at them. The moon was the only light we had. They talked about me and wondered if I spoke Japanese. No one dared to start a conversation.

  “Excuse me… I hope you don’t mind… How are you enjoying the onsen?”

  I smiled and turned towards them, saying:


  “Even a rock would enjoy being pampered by the warm water and the cold air of this beautiful evening. How do I like the onsen? This is like asking if I’m happy I was ever born.”

  I dipped my body deeper into the water and continued:

  I’m bathing under the clear sky

  And the summer moon

  Is shinning on my back.

  Morikawa Kyoroku

  After our spa experience we returned to Sendai. The next day I was scheduled to go back to Tokyo. My brother-in-law and his new bride were supposed to join me. I had to pack my bags again. Packing is like a curse and a blessing in my life. I’m always on the go. I had a lot more things than when I came, as my Japanese family offered me many presents, both for me and for my family.

  The vibe in the house was sad and heavy. I threw away everything from my old bedroom. The only things I decided to take with me were two dolls, Gavroche and Cosette. I stared for quite a while at every detail in that room so that I could always remember the moments lived there. I did the same with the rest of the house. I wondered if in the future the family would still say “This is where Ioana-san used to live.” I wondered if my name would still be written in the publications about Kurosawa family and its history. My name was written down at the museum—Ioana Kurosawa—in Japanese characters. On one hand my soul was in pain, yet on the other I was ready to leave. We sang, ate and had fun together that evening. Every moment was precious simply because it passed by. Before I went to sleep, Otoosan asked me to promise him that I would go on with my life. He wanted me to promise that I would remarry. I could have promised him anything else but this.

  The next morning my little nieces were very sad. They didn’t understand what was happening. They asked me “You’re coming back, right? … You’re coming back next year Ioana-san, aren’t you? We’ll see each other again, no?” I knew that that was going to be the last time I’d see them but I didn’t tell them anything. Otoosan asked that we’d all say our goodbyes without emotions and tears, without expressed pain or sad words… but more like “See you later!” I came to know Japanese fairly well after many years of living there. I sensed their pain from a distance, even though their facial expression didn’t let any of it out. Only when I got to know them I understood how sensitive they really were. I was devastated and I could have braved anything but that intense moment.

  I remember vividly that superb summer morning. There were lots of flowers and birds around. Even though it was sunny out, our hearts and minds were cloudy and dark. “Can you actually die on a sunny day?” asked the author James Joyce when he was only a child. Yes, you can die on a sunny day; I would have answered to him then. Mine was an inner death. I said goodbye to everyone, starting with the oldest and most important member of the family, Obaachama. We smiled at each and tried to hide our feelings as much as we could. I had to keep the distance (physically), as that was the expectation in Japan. I only hugged Ayumi and her two little girls. I was supposed to see Ken later on in Tokyo. I left.

  Once in the car I looked back and saw all of them. It felt as if I was leaving my youth and dreams behind. I rolled down the car’s window and bowed my head delicately to show them my respect… and I left just as I thought they would have liked to remember me forever—with long hair, pale skin, red lips and no tears. Sayonara![xl]

  The train ride back to Tokyo was enjoyable. My brother-in-law stayed next to me. We talked about Shinto, my life in Romania and the fact that I wasn’t fully happy there either. I told him that my desire was to work hard and find meaning in my life, and if things didn’t work out as I expected them to, it would be ok because there were many other countries to explore around the world…

  He and his wife got off in Omiya, the stop before the main train station in Tokyo. For the last part of the journey I was alone, staring at the dark sky filled with beautiful bright stars. What an extraordinary country, I thought to myself. Did I get to know it all? The traditional and modern aspects of it, the religion, culture, temples, imperial court, fashion agencies, clubs, museums, parks, karaoke bars, restaurants and bakeries…

  Uncle Koji and the driver waited for me at the train station in Tokyo. They welcomed me back and drove me to the hotel. Uncle Koji asked me if I wanted to spend my last few days in Japan at his house. I refused him politely. Things were too intense and I needed space to think and just be…

  I slept deeply that night. I woke up with the desire to enjoy my last days in Tokyo to the max. I called James and sadly realized that he was my last friend left in Tokyo. The others had either moved out of the country or to different areas in Japan. James came to pick me up from the hotel with his motorcycle. We took a tour of the city and crossed the Rainbow Bridge. I filmed a lot of footage to show my family and friends how Tokyo was. Initially, I wanted to film for my television show in Romania but decided that my personal life was best kept personal.

  I love riding motorcycles at a very high speed, especially in big cities. I enjoy feeling the wind slapping my face and the adrenaline waves taking my breath away. I like being in danger and sometimes, even being unaware. Die now or die at 60… What’s the difference? It feels better to die living too intensely than too quietly. It started raining and the streets got wet. My face was getting pelted by raindrops but I continued to film and asked James to go even faster. He said no. He took me back to the hotel instead.

  “You didn’t change at all… you seem to be even more wild, passionate and beautiful.”

  “Shut up!”

  “I apologize. I won’t say anything else. Do you want to join me and a group a friends for karaoke? We can go clubbing afterwards. Are you still crazy about dancing? Am I allowed to ask you this or not?”

  “You are allowed to say and ask neutral things,” I said laughing. “Yes, I’d like to come tonight but only if other people are coming too.”

  “I wouldn’t go out just with you. There’s a group of guys and girls that are coming. I believe that you even worked with one of them. She’s Russian.”

  “Perfect! What time and where?”

  “At 8 p.m. in Roppongi. I’ll come to pick you up.”

  “No, it’s not necessary. I’ll grab a cab. Let’s go to Castillio first. I’ll see you there at 8p.m.. Thank you for the ride! Bye James!”

  I left James and went inside the hotel. I had a creamy corn soup at the restaurant to warm me up and then I went upstairs. I showered and went to sleep. It was 4p.m. when I woke up. I decided to go to Kinokunia, a bookstore where I used to spend a lot of time in the past. I wanted to buy books for my students at the university. I rarely found good manuals to teach Japanese in Romania. I was very picky. When it comes to learning a foreign language, I believe that life is way too short to spend many years of your life trying to learn a new language. I spent three hours at the bookstore and left with a few great books on Japanese literature.

  I rushed back to the hotel and got ready to see James in Roppongi. James’ friends were all foreigners and worked in different industries. I remember that his oldest friend was 38. We all thought that he was too old to be clubbing… Too old to be living for that matter!

  It was a wonderful night. We danced and sang a lot. The “most talented” of us even made some customers from the karaoke bar we visited leave. That’s how well we sang! The guys drank a lot of Japanese beer. The Russian model smoked a lot. As far as me, I never drank or smoked.

  I arrived home at 3am. I was exhausted. The party was so well deserved. I hadn’t been partying for two years, and didn’t think that it would happen again soon… perhaps in two more years. After a certain age my priorities changed. Whenever I felt like dancing I just did it at home in front of the mirror. I removed my makeup and finally fell asleep.

  I heard someone knocking at the door early in the morning.

  “Moshi-moshi?”[xli] I answered sleepy.

  It was Ken. He had come to Tokyo to see me off. It was 11am. I wanted to sleep more after such a long night in Roppongi. I opened the door. My head w
as in a whirl.

  “I’m hungry,” I told him, forgetting that I had no right to ask him for anything. I was no longer his wife.

  “Alright Akachan. Do you want to eat in the room? Do you want food from the hotel’s restaurant or from the supermarket downstairs?”

  “I want quail eggs and maki-zushi.”

  He came back to the hotel room with lots of delicacies. We ate together in bed and laughed a lot. He told me that after I left Sendai, Kiku suffered an emotional shock and all her hair fell out. They had to take her to the doctor immediately. They had put her under treatment. I felt so guilty.

  We spent the rest of the day walking around, strolling through stores. Once the evening came he brought me back to the hotel. I was exhausted. He insisted on spending the night and sleep on the other side of the bed. He wanted to watch me sleep. I accepted. I fell asleep and felt his hand patting my head. He kissed me gently. His burning tears were falling on my face. I felt his pain. Even though I was awake, I still pretended to be asleep, hoping that he’d stop the agony. I knew that our relationship couldn’t be saved because he’d always make me cry. That wasn’t normal. A man should only make you happy. A man should only make you laugh, not cry and suffer.