Of course we arrived in Osaka to see all of the other women wearing black dresses- formal ones like they wear to weddings or at work parties. I was pretty angry at Motoaki but he told me not to sweat it because I am a foreigner who doesn't know better. Though I know this is true (this is the one country where everyone is honestly looking at my hair and eyes and not my chest and thighs), I was mad because I really wanted to make an effort to "fit in." Whenever Motoaki comes to the states I more or less pack for him- not because I am bossy or don't approve of his clothing, but because I know what the various occasions (church, dinner in Texas, Christmas parties, etc) call for. Oh well, Motoaki's family is super nice and no one seemed to care.
The actual ceremony was held in a tatami (bamboo flooring) room in the house of his uncle. The room was the size of a small kitchen in the US but we had to fit about 21 people in it. This being Japan, the room was filled with floor cushions and then four chairs in the back. Everyone insisted that I sit on a chair since I was foreign and not used to sitting on the floor but I held my ground and gave the chairs to the "older people." I then proceeded to sit seza, or where you sit on your knees and then lower yourself so your butt touches your heels. To most foreigners this is the worst and I can say that when I came to Japan I wasn't a fan. But, after five years I have gotten used to sitting like this (we had to do it in Kendo, we do it at certain restaurants, and I do it when I teach little kids on the floor) and can do it for a fairly long time. Of course, it helps that I am stubborn and was determined to make an impression that day that I could be just as Japanese as the rest.
The walls of the room were bare but on one side was a small wooden cabinet that Japanese people use as an alter in their homes for prayer and the deceased. After looking online, I believe it is called a butsudan but I am not sure. I wanted to ask Motoaki a million questions but I didn't want to bother him. Anyway, inside the alter there is usually an array of things that the gods and the deceased like, such as fruit, sake, and traditional sweets. Of course, in less formal houses there will also be cans of beer, packaged snacks (think like little Debbies), and even toys if the person was young when they died. They look something like this.
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We all sat facing the altar and a monk/priest in a white and purple robe sat in front of us, facing away from us. I was surprised at how young he was- he looked early 20s or 30s. I get a little confused in Japan because they have two major religions, Shinto and Buddhism, and often times families will carry traditions from both. Maybe like explaining protestants and catholics in America- similar and yet not. The monk/priest handed out small prayer books and then we proceeded to chant in what sounded like Indian music. Because the words are hard even for the average Japanese (think of some older editions of the bible or Shakespeare), the books had kanji (the complex alphabet) and hiragana (the easy one) side by side so that I could follow along as well. This was a big help because I could participate and, because I was concentrating on reading, I didn't have to think about the pain slowly creeping up in my legs.
We chanted and repeated for about 40 minutes. I did ask Motoaki later if understood everything and he said not really. At the end the priest/monk turned around and had a conversation with everyone while they served him tea and traditional sweets. This was the hardest part to sit through because when he closed the book I thought we were done and could move. To find out that, no, we had to sit another 30 minutes was pretty bad, but I toughed it out. I couldn't really stand up when we finally were, "allowed to move," but the same could be said for all of the cousins as well.
The ceremony was a little surreal as it made me realize that I am in Japan and that I am part of a Japanese family now. I mean, I KNOW that I am in Japan but it can be pretty easy to forget as I get used to day to day life and as my language ability improves. I realized that there is a lot more I want to know about Motoaki's families and traditions. For example, later when I was asking Motoaki if they had this same ceremony for his other family, he said that no, they didn't because his father's father had been a shinto priest which had different ceremonies.
One thing that really shocked me was that, when I asked Motoaki what his grandma's name had been, he didn't know. He also didn't know what his grandfather's name had been. We asked his mom in the car and when she told me (grandma Toyo grandpa Mataichi) Motoaki's sister said that she hadn't known their names either. Of course, I mentioned this to my Thai friend and my Vietnamese-American friend, they said they didn't know their grandparents first names either. Interesting cultural difference.
So after the ceremony we all left the room to have fruit, snacks, coffee, and beer, and then we headed out for a lunch party that I will talk about next time.
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