Sakura, Sakura

In the case that reincarnation is the truth and I randomly wake up as a flower in Japan for my next life, I could only hope that I’m not any species of flora other than a sakura (aka a cherry blossom), at risk of feeling like Jan Brady every late March/early April.

Truth is, the Japanese do love their sakura.  Although there are indeed plenty of other floral sources of beauty in Japan, the whole country has a special affinity for those cherry blossoms.  Every year during the one or two early weeks of spring that the flowers are in bloom, Japanese people flock to various parks and temples for hanami (literally: “flower viewing”) to picnic, take pictures and celebrate all-around.  But although the sakura petals are quickly blown away and replaced with standard green leaves, the sakura still manage to maintain an enormous presence in everyday Japanese life—through sakura songs, sakura ice cream, sakura cakes, sakura candy, sakura stickers, sakura hair accessories, sakura phone accessories, etc., etc.

Sakura, sakura, sakura! (Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!)

Anecdote: At the height of the sakura season frenzy, one of my Spoken Japanese classmates actually racked up the audacity to ask our professor why Japan is so sakura-crazed. 

“I don’t understand...I mean, they’re nice and all, but why are they such a big deal?  They’re just...flowers,” said the Italian girl, hesitantly, as she knew putting forth such an inquiry was a little, well, awkward.

There certainly was a sense of awkwardness that descended upon the room.  But rather than offended, my professor appeared contemplative.  He took a step back, looked out the window, scratched his head, and appeared to genuinely consider why exactly he and his people find so much joy and excitement in this tiny pink (or white, sometimes) flower.  I admit that I suddenly became a little excited, anticipating a great story—one after which the whole class would sit briefly in silence before letting out a unanimous “Ohhhhh.”

I’m sure there is a reason Japan loves its cherry blossoms.  I’m also even surer that I can easily google this to find the answer in less than five seconds, depending on my Internet connection of course.  But my professor’s conclusion beats any ancient legend or history lesson.  After much thought and consideration, my professor lifted his arms, took a deep breath of air, and shrugged.

”Pretty??” said my professor—in English. 

And that was all. 

Anyway, I knew at the time of my January arrival in Japan that some spots in the country would not live up to their full beauty potentials for a while, but I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal.  But apparently seeing places at their peaks of perfection is a big deal.  A huge deal, actually.  Pre-springtime, everywhere I mentioned I went—or was thinking of going—was received with an enthusiastic “You MUST go there during sakura season too!”

Now sakura season has already come and gone.  To say the least, it admittedly all turned out to be much more “stressful” for us than it was supposed to be.   Between trying to extract the best places from the long list of sites we just “HAD” to visit and dodging the cold, rainy days that proceeded each and every warm, blue-skies one, we had our hands full.  Add to the equation the lurking reality we felt that all the flowers could wither away and be dead the next day, and clearly we were initially not in the same cherry blossom bliss as everyone else seemed to be. 

Yet just as we thought we might miss out on the magic, things started to turn around.  The weather was perfect and we chose a few key sites to tackle.  Highlights included a gorgeous day in Nara, a serene dusk at Ginkakuji/the Philosopher’s Path, and a lively night at Kiyomizu.  Sights were stunning.  Spirits were high.  Festivities were fun.  We even fell victim to taking picture after picture of merely flowers—something that we frequently questioned prior to being in the situation ourselves.

Now that I have lived through sakura season to tell the tale, I can credibly say that one of the most special things about sakura is the sole fact that they are special.  And no, I did not just mistype.  Sure, the flowers are aesthetically fantastic (my Japanese professor’s “pretty” description is certainly accurate), but the hype comes from more than that.  It’s the sakura’s fleetingness that makes people want to take full advantage of them and thereafter hold onto them even longer.

I only have a little over a month left in Japan now.  On multiple accounts, this is extremely sad.  But the short-lived yet well-lived sakura season has reminded me that the freakishly/obnoxiously fast-ticking clock just makes each and every day I have here all the more exciting and worthy of enjoyment.   Instead of viewing the time crunch as a negative, I am now trying to label it as a positive; it’s a catalyst, if you will, for me to not only try everything or go everywhere I can but also to enjoy it the most I can.  Here’s to one more month of my own little sakura season!