Hanami

This year is the third time I've been in Tokyo when the cherry trees bloomed. As I mentioned, the arrival of sakura involves some serious picnicking. My first hanami, or flower-viewing, was a work party in a cemetery three years ago. That was long ago, when I considered parking a rotisserie chicken truck next to centuries-old family plots slightly rude. Silly, young grasshopper.

Hanami is welcome in nearly any public place, including cemeteries, shrines, parks and malls.
The Aoyama cemetery near our office is full of cherry trees, and tour buses bring in visitors. Vendors set up carts selling fried things on sticks and heaps of kakoyaki, round octopus fritters. Why is it that 'round the world all fairs and festivals involve dropping food into kettles of oil? Whatever our shared humanity, nothing says summer is coming like piping hot octopus balls.

I was invited this year to a hanami at Ueno park. So was every other single person in Tokyo. The sidewalks were so crowded, it felt like an endless subway car. Luckily for us, a friend of a friend got to the park at 5:30 a.m. to reserve a tarp for the day. We had a prime location, between the baseball park and the zoo. We had beer, chu-hi (a popular fruit-flavored cocktail that comes conveniently in cans), and, by the time I got there, a smattering of empty potato chip and McDonald's bags.

I wasn't worried; I'd already had lunch. But we did look a little lame next to some of the other picnics. A group next to us had brought platters of sushi, salads, fried snacks and at least half a case of wine. They had not, however, thought of a beer funnel, which another group of foreigners had brought along. When they demonstrated its use, it stopped all movement on the sidewalk and drew a round of applause and a television news crew. If only we'd managed to drive in another chicken truck.

Happy hanami!