reflection on japan 1: itadakimasu

One morning in Japan, after devouring our fresh-from-the-oven Japanese bakery pastries, S. headed to work and I set out for a neighborhood in Tokyo called Shinjuku.  My destination was Shinjuku Gyoen National Park, a large area of trees and ponds featuring an English-style grassy area, a French-style rose garden, and a more expansive Japanese garden.  I bought a to-go lunch from the train station before navigating my way to the gardens.

Once there, I wandered around a bit, finally settling under a tree in the Japanese gardens to eat my lunch, something like popcorn chicken with rice and a couple of BBQ meatballs.  

Breakfast

Some of the more adventurous lunch
selections.

An intersection in Shinjuku on my way from the train station
to the park.

A young couple in traditional Japanese
dress having a photo shoot in the Japanese garden.

My Lunch.

All around me, people were talking and laughing as they opened up their baskets and distributed food--young couples, groups of moms with their young children, girl friends and coworkers escaping from the city noise for a restful lunch.

Near me, two young women (my age?) settling under a tree, laid down their blanket, and unpacked plates, wine glasses, and chopsticks.

I glanced their way more often than normal, observing their behavior and etiquette--feet tucked to the side (I quickly shifted my legs from cross-legged to one side), a patterned plastic picnic blanket beneath them (I did my best to make my slip open plastic bag look like a blanket), their homemade food brought in reusable containers (I felt even more shame at my plastic disposable-packed lunch).

But when they finished setting everything up, before they started eating, my self-consciousness switched to excitement as they did something I was familiar with.

"Itadakimasu," they said as they each put their hands together and bowed slightly.  They said it in a way that was smiling and full of energy, almost singing, stressing the "maas" at the end of the word.

Aha!  I know that word! I thought, delighted at this real-world event that actually connected to something I had learned about before.  With hesitating, I used up a bit of my 100MB of international data to send S. a message about my astuteness. 

He had just taught me that word--which I had trouble remembering beyond the first syllable that sounded like "eat"--in the days previous, as the word used by Japanese before eating a meal.  He explained it to be kind of like saying grace, but not exactly, roughly translating it on-the-spot as something like "I have been given."

I like that, I had thought, and had told him so.  And now, after seeing it in action, I felt more confident about my desire to adopt this little piece of true Japanese culture, feeling it to be a rite-of-passage in my immersion.

I felt myself standing up a little bit straighter when crossing paths with other "tourists."  I earned it, after all.  I knew where to find the most delicious breakfast, I could navigate the trains, I knew how to enjoy lunch like the locals, and I could recognize Japanese words and recite them back if given a moment to recall them.

I had yet to understand that the true meaning of this little word was something quite contrary to the pride I felt at learning it.