>>> Item number 27067 from WRITERS LOG9403C --- (60 records) ----- <<<
Date:         Thu, 17 Mar 1994 18:35:02 JST
Reply-To:     WRITERS <WRITERS@NDSUVM1.BITNET>
Sender:       WRITERS <WRITERS@NDSUVM1.BITNET>
From:         Mike Barker <barker@AEGIS.OR.JP>
Subject:      SUB:  March 15th - A Japanese Train Ride

Background, a postcard in words, whatever - enjoy it.  no crit
necessary, I just thought I'd share the joy.

tink

    The cold and rain of winter is letting go, reluctantly, here in
Osaka.  This morning was chilly, but bright sunshine warmed the walk to
the train station.
    The morning train ride was brightened even more by a flock of high
school kids headed for their graduation.  The boys were unremarkable,
almost invisible, in new blue or grey suits, white shirts, and ties,
like any Japanese businessman.
    The girls made up for it.  Bright pinks, lively greens, pale purples
and violets, a rainbow of primary colors set off with pastel and red and
white linings in kimono-like tops above hakama, the old men's split
skirt-trousers, now adopted by many women.  The hakama were darker blues
and greys, but even they seemed to shine against the boring business
suits in the crowded train.
    Glowing young faces laughed and smiled as they compared outfits and
talked about the unfamiliar kimono style purses, or the difficulty of
walking in tabi (the white split-toed socks) and geta (those colorful
sandals worn with kimono and the older styles).  Some sat, erect and
careful to avoid crushing the folds and ties of the hakama.
    There were incongruities, of course.  For one thing, the hair, while
attractive with long flowing straight black locks and a bit of carefully
curled and arranged bangs in the front, really isn't traditional.  Of
course, the hour or two and the money it takes to get a beauty shop to
put your hair up in the traditional styles is perhaps too much to expect
for high school graduation.  Still, most had a hint of the old styles
left in colorful bows and bright metallic swirls used to hold a braid or
ponytail in place over the loose hair.
    Mitsuko, my wife, would have laughed at the sleeves.  She's one of
the last generations that really studied kimono styles, learning to tie
an obi from scratch (a little like learning to tie a real bow tie) and
how to put on a kimono by yourself if necessary or how to dress a friend
in more convenience.  However, she is quite aware that long,
floor-dragging sleeves indicate an unmarried woman, while the short
sleeves of a married woman also conveniently provide pockets for
carrying various odds and ends.
    Some of the girls in the train had the proper long sleeves for their
age, with all the bother of trying to handle them in the crowd.  Quite a
few, though, had short sleeves, perhaps for convenience in modern times,
perhaps to make it easier to reuse the expensive traditional clothing in
the future, or perhaps simply out of ignorance of the meaning.
    The train ride seemed shorter than usual today, with the sunshine
outside and inside.  I considered, briefly, riding an extra stop or two
to see where the flock of colorful young ladies would join the other
flocks and gather for the ceremonies marking completion of another step
towards adult life in Japan, but I decided reluctantly that I really
ought to go to work.  At least I got to see the flock for a while,
bright and out-of-place in the morning rush hour, like a piece of
Japanese history that hasn't quite caught up with the modern-day
humdrums.
--------------------------------------------------------