The Fourth of July on the Fifth of July?

For me, the Fourth of July conjures up the sugar-sour of tricolor popsicles, the smokey sweetness of fireworks, and the sizzling white burns of a sparkler held too closely. Since I was very young, I have celebrated the 4th with my family in Connecticut. The huge picnic at Grandma's, fireworks with Jon and Sammy in Yalesville, and stargazing from Mem's pool. Admittedly, the four hour drive to Connecticut, in the cloying heat of July, generally leads to squabbles and snipes. However, there is nothing better than arriving at my Grandmother's doorstep, welcomed by a bowl of garden-grown sugar-snap peas, and breathing in the true return of summer.
Of course, this year, all of that is a little different.
Firstly, I'm in Japan, so I wasn't able to attend the yearly 4th of July celebrations. (This was bittersweet a realization-- wandering through Terumachi in Kyoto, I spotted some sparklers. It dawned on me that, in America, my parents, sister, cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents were probably readying themselves for the festivities. As beautiful as Kyoto is, there are few greater pleasures than fireworks on the Yalesville hill.)

Secondly, my beautiful Meme passed away this year. The yellow Victorian, whose cloistered backyard serves as Yalesville's best view of the 4th of July fireworks, will never be the same house. The lady of the house-- my namesake, Eloise-- no longer waits for me in the kitchen, ready to load my arms with packages of peanuts, bananas, bagels, peanut butter, licorice, and curiously antique soda. This same lady, who quietly enjoyed the presence of her children and grandchildren, will not sit with my mother and my aunts as they watch the yearly firework display (though, as I'm sure they would tell you, her presence will be felt). No, wandering the alleyways of Terumachi, I realized that the 4th of July, which, in my world-wanderer haste, I had all but forgotten, would be a very different holiday this year.

This morning, my 4th of July quickly passed without any sort of patriotic pomp or circumstance, I awoke a little sad. It was 7am Japan time. Jon and Sammy were probably getting ready to walk up the hill to the fireworks. My grandmother's picnic was probably finished. All of these things had happened without my presence and, I figured, they had probably been well enjoyed. I decided to brush it from my mind and set to focusing (unsuccessfully) on the buckets of homework with which JCMU burdens its fourth year students.

Luckily, my 4th of July, perhaps more appropriately titled the 5th of July, was saved by the kindness of strangers (though they're strangers no longer).

As part of the JCMU program, we are able to sign up for conversation partners. We help them with English, and they help us with Japanese. My conversation partner is a lovely young woman named Akiyo-- she has already taken me to Osaka and Takarazuka, not to mention welcomed me to her country with open arms. This Sunday, Akiyo invited me to a barbecue at her family's house. I, along with a small army of other JCMU students, gladly accepted the invitation, eager for an opportunity to practice Japanese in good company. What an amazing night it turned out to be.

When we arrived at Akiyo's house, we were greeted by her okaasan and obaasan, both of whom were busily fanning the coals of a hibachi grill. We were ushered into the family tatami room and served cold ice tea. However, the formalities ended there. The dinner itself was a traditional hibachi dinner. The makeshift tables and benches were loaded with homegrown produce, fresh seafood, and the full spectrum of pork, beef, and chicken. Basically, you snatched what you wanted and cooked it yourself (though Akiyo's family helped many of us avoid charred potatoes and undercooked shrimp). For the next three hours, we feasted-- the food was never ending and the company was amazing. Akiyo's mother taught me how to grill live snails-- the chewiest and briniest snails I have ever had (and I mean that in only the most delicious way). When our stomachs were fully ippai, Akiyo's parents delivered three trays of watermelon, melon, and plums. Our fruit-deprived brains (fruit is expensive here) kicked into impulse mode (despite how full we all were) and we gladly excepted the home-grown fruit. Of course, throughout this entire meal, we got to know Akiyo's family, extended family, friends, pets, neighbors, and really whoever else wandered into the backyard. It was exactly what I needed-- for a few hours, a wonderful family welcomed me into their home. Happily chewing my perfectly cooked ikayaki, I soaked in the obvious love and laughter of this family. Loneliness disappeared.

Yes, it wasn't quite the 4th of July, but, the 5th of July is a new tradition I would not mind repeating. However, while Akiyo's wonderful family certainly cured any feelings of loneliness I may have had, I am now a little bit homesick. Surrounded by a joyful and generous family, I couldn't help but think of my own, a thousand miles away.

My favorite picture from the evening: