Weekend #2 Wrap Up
Well, my faithful readers, you already know that we visited the Giant Buddha at Kamakura this weekend. I am thrilled to report that we had a fairly successful outing. I would give it solid "B", and that's pretty dang good when my kids are regularly scoring in the 50-60% range. Everyone was reasonably well behaved, except for the one moment I turned my back on Will and before I could blink, he had hopped the rope barrier around Buddha and was standing on Buddha's version of the Ten Commandments. There was a distinct intake of Buddhist breaths all around before I warped over and removed him.
Thankfully, Buddha's tablets are behind Buddha and not in front of Buddha, where many more people would have witnessed this horrifying faux pas.
The picture that didn't make it to Facebook was of William after he had finished his chocolate ice cream cone, the one in which I am growing red-faced with anger as I watch him stick the ice cream cone in his mouth, then his hair, then his cheek, then his forehead, oh back in his hair. All while giving me that cocky little smirk. I couldn't discipline him because there was a nice young Japanese family back in the tiny corner of the restaurant and I didn't want to go all crazy in the little space.
One of the nice things about most Japanese restaurants is that they have a nice little sink where you can go and wash your hands before (and for us, after) eating. It's right out there with everyone, so I guess...one should wash their hands before eating.
Pretty sure the Japanese put the Germans to shame in the cleanliness department. I don't see Germans putting on slippers inside the house and then different slippers to use the bathroom.
Also, the Japanese are much more easygoing about the noisy American kid thing. On the train ride home from Kamakura, the kids were being fairly quiet, but still a little noisy for the train. People would look, but the Japanese think staring is impolite and I certainly didn't get any Japanese Look of Disapproval (much like the GLOD). We will see if this holds true over the course of our time here.
There is a Japanese word for the sort of "barrier" that Japanese people erect around themselves that helps them to deal with the fact that they are intensely private and respectful of others' space and feelings. Well, that and the fact that in the cities, there are a bazillion of them all up in each other's tiny space. I think that most Japanese are very good at getting on the train and putting up their barrier. Half of them are asleep and somehow sleep until their designated train station and through any noise...even exuberant and chocolate covered American preschooler noise.
Sigh.
Well, I'm glad that I made the effort. The older kids were not overly enthusiastic about the Buddha, but then again, at age seven and nine, I probably was not overly enthusiastic about whatever Air Force base Dad was taking us to. I just hope that someday, they remember that they saw the second biggest Buddha in Japan...
And that somewhere, in some random Korean woman's photo album, there's a picture of them.
Thankfully, Buddha's tablets are behind Buddha and not in front of Buddha, where many more people would have witnessed this horrifying faux pas.
The picture that didn't make it to Facebook was of William after he had finished his chocolate ice cream cone, the one in which I am growing red-faced with anger as I watch him stick the ice cream cone in his mouth, then his hair, then his cheek, then his forehead, oh back in his hair. All while giving me that cocky little smirk. I couldn't discipline him because there was a nice young Japanese family back in the tiny corner of the restaurant and I didn't want to go all crazy in the little space.
One of the nice things about most Japanese restaurants is that they have a nice little sink where you can go and wash your hands before (and for us, after) eating. It's right out there with everyone, so I guess...one should wash their hands before eating.
Pretty sure the Japanese put the Germans to shame in the cleanliness department. I don't see Germans putting on slippers inside the house and then different slippers to use the bathroom.
Also, the Japanese are much more easygoing about the noisy American kid thing. On the train ride home from Kamakura, the kids were being fairly quiet, but still a little noisy for the train. People would look, but the Japanese think staring is impolite and I certainly didn't get any Japanese Look of Disapproval (much like the GLOD). We will see if this holds true over the course of our time here.
There is a Japanese word for the sort of "barrier" that Japanese people erect around themselves that helps them to deal with the fact that they are intensely private and respectful of others' space and feelings. Well, that and the fact that in the cities, there are a bazillion of them all up in each other's tiny space. I think that most Japanese are very good at getting on the train and putting up their barrier. Half of them are asleep and somehow sleep until their designated train station and through any noise...even exuberant and chocolate covered American preschooler noise.
Sigh.
Well, I'm glad that I made the effort. The older kids were not overly enthusiastic about the Buddha, but then again, at age seven and nine, I probably was not overly enthusiastic about whatever Air Force base Dad was taking us to. I just hope that someday, they remember that they saw the second biggest Buddha in Japan...
And that somewhere, in some random Korean woman's photo album, there's a picture of them.
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