My husband and I and our four kids recently took a road trip to
Northern California to spend time with both of our families. We planned on going to the San Francisco Cherry Blossom Festival in San Francisco with my parents. To find parking, we had to brave the crowded and narrow streets to find a lot close enough with a walk to Japantown without having to take a breather. But since I managed to forget an important toddler necessity, we took a break at the local Safeway to buy diapers. And because I am married to the smartest guy on the planet, we enjoyed two warm lattes to help us battle the brisk city winds. Heavenly.
The sights and sounds of the festival brought back memories of my local cultural center's summer festivals that my sister and I participated in during our childhood. Back then, we danced in the traditional Japanese Obon, a custom to honor one's ancestors. I recall the dance practices, the kimono fittings, and how tight you had to tie the obi around your waist to carry all the noisemakers. My favorite things were the dainty Japanese fans and the sparkly silver and pink hair ornaments you were fortunate to wear if your mom remembered to bring them.
But here, in San Francisco, we followed the beating of the drums to the center stage to watch the talented Taiko performance. The ornate and artistic backdrop possessed certain beauty to the entire crowd of excited onlookers, from every walk of life. The style and flair of the exhibition was amazing, although the drums were a little too loud for our three year old. Yes, our adorable kids love the stage!
A few of us entered the Katana exhibition of the Japanese sword. Our eight and ten year old had many questions about the majestic swords. I was somewhat wary of them getting so close to exotic but deadly weapons, but it turned out to be a learning experience for them.
After splurging on some chicken and sushi, we ended our day with observing the karate demonstration. The best part of this entertainment were the kids that were up on stage enjoying the limelight. I thought our 8 year old son would plead to learn martial arts, but it was our 10 year old daughter that urged us to sign her up.
Our trip to the Cherry Blossom Festival in San Francisco was a taste of Japanese culture that I had enjoyed growing up. Thank you mom and dad for raising me to be a American citizen, proud of our country. And thank you mom and dad for also giving me the opportunity to cherish the Japanese heritage to which I was born. Thank you mom and dad, I am grateful.
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