Attack of the Cherry Blossoms

It happens every spring, just when the air starts to warm for good and everyone seems to walk just a little bit brisker. For just two weeks, a new pinkish-white color spreads itself across Japan, in people's backyards, near rivers, along the train tracks, covering parks. And for the Japanese, there's only one proper way to celebrate the arrival of the cherry blossoms:

Drink. Drink a lot.

During ohanami -- the exuberant festival of the arrival of sakura -- everyone seems to stop going to work, school or whatever they're supposed to be doing, and instead hunkers down for giant tailgate parties under the closest cherry blossom trees they can find. Most of the drinking starts -- seriously -- at 10 a.m. For two weeks. In a row.

My host mother took me first to a park in Chiba where the cherry blossoms drape over a road lined with food stands and games. Cars drive right through the middle of them, and the road leads to a farm with horse stables. Wafting through the air were the collective smells of grilled meats, fried octupus balls, blossoming flowers and springy wind.

Mmmmmm, octopus ...

My next hanami rendezvous was in Shiba Park, right underneath Tokyo Tower, with some Japanese friends who know how to do it right. We had vegatables, an egg thing, chips with guacamole, wine and a bunch of other food and drinks. We sat near some cherry blossoms that swooped down to practically touch the ground. Near us, groups of people young and old were doing the same.

I also took a walk through the park toward the towering Eiffel Tower look-a-like, where a funny young man was performing yet another monkey show. This monkey, though, had more comedic punch than some of the best stand-up I've seen on Comedy Central.

As the afternoon darkened, I noticed that a few groups away from our picnic site was a hilarious bunch of young men playing "traditional" drinking games and going through endless bottles of sake. They were also using one bottle as a baseball bat, and the low-hanging cherry blossoms as, I guess, a baseball.

In the end, everyone wound up on the ground. Including the monkey.

My third and final ohanami event was the next day, when I met up with a British mental-health counselor whom I had interviewed for a sociology project about Japanese suicide. From his office in Shimakitazawa (where Kohei and I once strolled the by hipster clothing stores), we met up with his Japanese wife (and giant white labrador), a Korean colleague and her French husband. The five of us could have been a United Nations delegation.

The park we camped down at was practically overtaken by cherry blossoms, and floods of people were pouring in as early as 11 a.m. A lively baseball game was taking place next to us. The weather, for the third straight day, was thankfully gorgeous.

But, sakura celebrations can do amazing things to the body's stamina. And because I had lots of classwork and other things to take care of during the next week (last week of classes, amazingly), I took it easy and just enjoyed the beautiful sights of spring.

Here are some of the highlights ...

The cherry blossoms were particularly charming on a warm, calm day near the Imperial Palace ...

... and even right in my backyard, a park near the Hiraos' apartment ...

... and, of course, as the moon rises to say goodnight ...

The weather is still perfect, but the cherry blossom season will be over in a few days, unfortunately. All those trees lush with smiling white and pink flowers will be bare for another 11 months.

And now for something completely different: The week prior to the ohanami parties, I trekked down to Ryogoku, a quaint district of Tokyo home to the famous sumo stables that are electric with excitement when the tournaments happen here. Now the matches are in Osaka, so it was practically vacant at the stadium.

And right next to the famous sumo center is the Edo-Tokyo Museum, one of the best-designed museums in the world that chronicle a major city's history. The entire exhibit from the samurai Edo period to modern Tokyo time could take a whole day to see everything, including all the life-size walkthrough areas and the incredibly detailed (and well-translated) accounts of history. Visitors start by walking across a replica of the Nihonbashi Bridge, from which they can see a towering samurai statue and two enormous buildings from the floor below, one of which houses a kabuki theater display inside.

After enriching my brain with valuable Tokyo history, including a wonderful presentation of the city's modernization following its defeat in World War II, I took a train a few stops south to catch a flea market that is held only three times each month, on certain days. It was serendipitous.

Flea markets in Japan, by the way, can include everything from handmade jewelry and clothing to wooden slabs and construction materials. But walking along the main and side streets of Kiyosumi got me a wiff of both the most salacious and least-desired foods from vendors. Including this:

I ended up at a temple just as the sun was setting and the wood-sellers and clothing-hawkers were packing up their stuff in trucks. As I walked back to the train station, I couldn't help but think about everything I've seen and done over the past three months, and how I only have a few weeks left. Over those next days, I'll be visiting some extraordinary places -- both historical and quirky -- so stay tuned.