Mohawk Salad Days

9/8/09
Upon arriving in Kumamoto for our stay here, the grueling schedule of the first few days wore us out: lying around, eating, taking naps, going for walks, relaxing, taking more naps, eating more, and finishing the day by watching Japanese League baseball with Michiyo`s Dad Minoru while drinking sake. When the weekend came, we finally got out and about. Saturday night, I met up with Jason, my good friend from our JET days together, and we hit the town just like (well, sort of like) the good old days, going first to Charlie’s Country Bar, then on to Karaoke, and ending the night at Tapas, a Mexican restaurant with salsa music playing, and outside chairs to enjoy Corona`s on the street. Interestingly, I learned that “mohawk” is not a common word in Japan; they use the word “Mohican” to describe this hairstyle, because it resemblies an Indian. While Jason was understandably not a fan of the Mohican, numerous Japanese strangers let me know it was, among other things, “wonderful,” “cool,” and “handsome.” Love this country!

Sunday, Grandpa Minoru took us to Yabe-machi, a mountain town in the countryside having a festival. After enduring choppy, winding mountain roads, we arrived in time for the procession of, um, tsukurimono—sculptures people made. Hiroki had a lot of fun at this festival. He was fawned over by obaachans (Japanese Elderly ladies), and held tight to Mommy and me when the big sculptures passed.
Since I was probably the only foreigner within a few dozen miles, and had the ugliest Mohawk within a few islands, in addition to the fact that we were toting an American-Asian boy, we drew lots of attention. I wish I could explain these pictures. Really, I do.

But I cannot.
The best was the photographers. Apparently, there is some photo contest, and happily obliged several camera-people.