At a sake and sushi bar Dave, Jane, and I met up with two cute twenty-something Japanese girls and a staff of sushi chefs about the same age.  We chatted away the evening in a mixture of Japanese-English and sake-induced fellowship. Cards were exchanged and then drinks.  One of the girls pulled a tiny heart shaped clip from her hair to put into mine.  Then I took off my necklace of a glass bead I’d made months ago and gave it to them.  Next, purses and backpacks were emptied out and gifts flew.  Part of a typical Japanese evening.

The following morning I had several plastic hair clips, a mirror with pink kittens all over it, a floral patterned nail file, a panda charm for a cell phone, a Minnie Mouse pen that lit when you wrote and other items not exactly essential to an American woman of a certain age (not even close to twenty).  But I will keep and cherish them all.

At Tanpopo-ne-ye Arts Center we were treated to an amazing dinner cooked on the premises, T-shirts big enough for American men and assorted gifts from individual staff members and artists.  More importantly we took away a renewed passion for what happens at Creative Clay and an inspiration for what can be created in our own studios.

I brought one bag specifically for gifts this trip.  Among them I brought a stack of opening day pamplets from Tropicana Field with Akinori Iwamura on the cover.  To the baseball loving Japanese these have been a popular gift.  Japanese TV only cover teams that have Japanese players, so thanks to him I can see game highlights and get scores.  I even saw a whole game against the Yankees on nasty and rainy day in Kyoto.  Excellent gift! 

Hugging or even shaking hands in Japan is rarely done.  When I was in Uruguay in February, I got used to being embraced and kissed on the cheek as part of an introduction to new people.  This, I am certain would flip out an ordinary Japanese person. 

They give gifts instead.  Sometimes they are little trinkets, candy, or in our case, fabulous items made by persons with disabilities.  We’ve also received extraordinary craft items, many lavish dinners, and experiences that can never be duplicated.  Each hotel we leave has a small pile of sacrificed clothes to make room for gifts and we’ve shipped home several boxes.

Last night as we left a forum on Japanese and American ArtLink experiences at the National Museum of Modern Art, my American impulses took over and some of the younger staff members of Tanpopo-ne-ye who I’ve known now since 2003 allowed themselves to be lightly embraced in farewell.  They might have been slightly nervous about it, but it felt good to me.