Japanese Food, Culture, and the Tanabata Festival

The Soba Incident by Duncan Dixon Moving to a new country and concourse a new culture al trends has the potential for incidents that are inept at the time, but humorous later. The following incident happened to me several weeks later I arrived in lacquer. I was in Odawara around noon and I decided I wanted to consume almostebi soba. I put up a restaurant display that looked good and, because I could not articulate Japanese, carefully copied down the characters under the display, on a piece of paper. I went into the restaurant and gave the paper to the waitress.She read it, gave a nod, and pointed me to a seat at a table in the middle of the restaurant. A lacquer lash topped with soba soon appeared. It came with a bowl of broth leaving me with the line of what to do with the broth. I knew I had to get the noodles and broth together somehow. I debated with myself for a hardly a(prenominal) minutes, do I pick up the noodles and drop down them, or pour the broth everywhere t he noodles? I finally came up with what seemed a suitable solution pour half the broth over the noodles.I did this and watched to my dis may as the sauce ran our of the bottom of the noodles, across the table, and began dripping onto the floor. The different customers looked at me with thinly disguised amusement and I began to wish I had ordered something simple like katsu-don. About this time the waitress appeared and looked at me and the mess I had made. She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a fork. By now I was completely embarrassed. I ate quickly and discovered the reason for my line of work the bamboo mat so cleverly hidden under the soba.I paid my note and fled. To this day one thing puzzles me I never did get the half-pint that were supposed to be on top of the soba. My First Tanabataby Duncan Dixon * instruct the two versions of my paragraph almost Tanabata. * Which is for readers unfamiliar with Japan and which is for readers who know Japan? Version 1 Every July when the Tanabata festival arrives, I remember my beginning(a) Tanabata. Tanabata is the Star Festival, traditionally celebrated in Japan July 7. In some cities people hang elaborate decorations from bamboo poles.To the poles they also attach papers on which they have written their wishes. Some friends told me that Tanabata in Hiratsuka was price seeing so I took the bus downtown. I had been living in Japan for about(predicate) nine months and didnt speak much Japanese yet. The downtown vault of heaven was packed and I was constantly bumping into people. As I was making my way with the crowd, my kick in b hie the shoulder of a young little girl about three years old who was walking with her mother. Without looking up at me, the girl reached up and took my hand. Immediately, I was in a quandry.If she looks up and sees whose hand she has, shell panic and start crying, but if I pull away(predicate) quickly, she may also look up and panic. If her mother sees I have h er by the hand, how can I explain what has happened? Ill be arrested for attempted kidnapping. exclusively these thoughts rushed into my head as I walked along. Finally, after a few more metres, I was able to release my hand from the grasp of my run into and pass off away into the crowd, undiscovered. Even today, the thought of what might have happened, makes me shiver. Version 2 Every July when the Tanabata festival arrives, I remember my first Tanabata.It was the year I was almost involved in an international incident. Some friends told me that Tanabata in Hiratsuka was worth seeing so I took the bus downtown. I had been living in Hatano, Kanagawa for about nine months and didnt speak much Japanese yet. The downtown area was packed and I was constantly bumping into people. As I was making my way through the crowd, my hand brushed the shoulder of a young girl about three years old who was walking with her mother. Without looking up at me, the girl reached up and took my hand.Im mediately, I was in a quandry. If she looks up and sees whose hand she has, shell panic and start crying, but if I pull away quickly, she may also look up and panic. If her mother sees I have her by the hand, how can I explain what has happened? Ill be arrested for attempted kidnapping. All these thoughts rushed into my head as I walked along. Finally, after a few more metres, I was able to release my hand from the grasp of my escort and melt away into the crowd, undiscovered. Even today, the thought of what might have happened, makes me shiver.