Sakura Zensen: The Blossom
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Sakura Zensen - Junko Okamura
Sakura Zensen
The Blossom
Junko Okamura
9781257448234
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Title reference and pronunciation guide.
Petals fluttered in the wind, as the sun kissed the air……….
…..but words will never hurt me……….
The Dirty Flower
Let it rain, Let it Pour
Strange, perfect
Gathering of the Maidens
Sentimental Journey
Silence is Golden….
Seasons change
Offering
Possession
O truant Muse what shall be thy amends For thy neglect of truth in beauty dyed?
Drift away………
Then let not winter’s ragged hand deface, In thee thy summer, ere thou be distilled……
Dishonor
Childhood promises……..
Under the milky Way…
Sakura Zensen
Title reference and pronunciation guide.
Sakura Zensen -------
A Japanese term for tracking of the Cherry Blossom trees as it blooms from south to north across the Island Nation.
All Japanese words are phonetically read :
A= ah
E= eh
I= eeh
O=oh
U=ooh
All consonants are as it is. Exceptions of R
, it maybe replaced with L
.
Example: Sakura is pronounced Sah-kooh-La
Petals fluttered in the wind, as the sun kissed the air……….
I loved Kanagawa……. We were close to Tokyo and our capitol Yokohama was full of culture, new and traditional. The perfect harmony of hills and the ocean completed the landscape making it easy for us to take advantage of what man and nature offered us………
My mother raised me on her own, taking care of others in the same situation. She was a former Hippie/Flower child in her high school days. She embraced the Western and the Eastern Philosophy, creating a perfect balance as an independent Japanese woman.
Her no-non-sense nature and her demure Japanese presentation is what attracted people to her.
Mother was the owner of our family onsen, a natural hot springs, a bathhouse…..a brothel to be exact in her case.
It was handed down to her by the women in her family.
It was small, yet it sustained a small village and we lived and loved in harmony with nature.
Murasaki Onsen…………..My home……….
My great –great-great grandmother named the compound after Murasaki Shikibu, Lady Murasaki, a classic Japanese poetess known for her feministic views back in the 11th Century.
She thought it would show her feminist side by using men as a tool for her social status.
Fitting name for such an establishment.
Sometimes, the older folks would give her a dirty look, as she walked with her 20 or more women in a procession announcing their new Geisha, the entertainer.
They were uncomfortable with sexuality and I felt sorry for them.
She said sex was a force of nature and those who can’t harness it, are at loss with who they really are.
I never really understood the power we had, I don’t know if I ever will………….
When mother became philosophical, I would sneak away while she talked.
Many days, I would just ignore her and hang out in the garden with some of the women that worked for my mother in the bath house
.
It was a discreet "(not so much) Gentleman’s Club for all the local and Global Businessman, Politicians and Military big-wigs.
There were probably about 20-30 women living there and working there for my mom at any given time. She also houses small children ,given birth by the women working there or sought her help, running away from their abusive husbands.
They were my family and I grew up not knowing anything else. I loved them and they put up with me.
e9781257448234_i0002.jpgI was an Ainoko
, as my grandfather would say.
He was a short, thin man, visited us often with his friends and partied on my mother’s dime.
The women in my family never , married after the 4th generation. The story goes, my great-great-great-great-great grandmother (you get the point, it goes back a bit) became a widow and lost her home. She wandered into the hilly town and decided to rest at the local Shrine. There ,the Priestess gave her a Cherry Blossom clipping. She didn’t know what to do, so she dug a hole to plant the clipping. The earth opened when she did unlocking the natural spring. With the aid of the Priestess and her Maidens, she built the bath house , used first as a place for lost women and the following generations added on to it.
It became a brothel after the Second World War.
As traditions were passed on, Cherry Blossom trees were planted when a girl was born to the village. So, since the sisterhood was stronger than any bond a man can have with a wife, they vowed never to marry. But, it wasn’t a written law and some women have married off into families to keep a business relationship. That was typical in Japan, I expected that, I too, will be married off one day.
I was named after my ancestor, and everyone called me Hana or Ohana-chan, a nickname that stuck with me since birth. I was my mother’s flower.
My grandfather… He hated that his only daughter, dropped out of school after being defiled by an American Servicemen, who left after she had me for his kind.
She didn’t mind. It was the only way he would come to see me. I didn’t like grandfather and stayed away. He was usually busy chasing the women around with a cup of sake, a rice wine, in his hand, spilling it as he fumbled.
I always thought the term Ainoko
meant a child of love. It actually means bi-racial but in a more hateful way. Being that I am an Ainoko, I was often harassed by the local children.
Their mothers would often fill their heads with nasty thoughts and they would taunt me.
One boy, in first grade, actually wanted me to perform oral sex on him.
I knew what it was, I’m not totally stupid or ignorant of what goes on, when I told him how it was done, he threw up all over the place in class and he was known since then as the puke-boy
.
He’s never forgiven me for that and holds a grudge still to this day. I thought it was funny.
Mifune was my best friend. He and I grew up together. His parents were prominent people in our small village
His family and mine, controlled most of the economy in the tri-prefecture area, making them one of the most powerful people in the country. His father was a Politician and his mother was a small Dutch woman. They met while he served as an Ambassador in Holland.
Mifune spent many summers with me, his parents were involved in Politics and traveled often, leaving Mifune under my mother’s care.
We had our mixed blood in common and I enjoyed his company.
We were often mistaken for siblings, with our big almond shaped eyes and chestnut colored hair.
We spent our days bugging the help or making up ridiculous adventures, pretending to be discoverers.
Hiking up to the hill was our favorite past time.
It helped me get away from the hurt and cleared my head.
Just about an hour from my mother’s compound, was a series of rolling hill.
The large hillside was a Holy ground and contained a small Shinto Shrine with a lovely courtyard. It wasn’t like the typical shrine. There were phallic symbols hidden everywhere. Mifune and I would try to find them all and giggle immaturely.
Each morning the Priestess would come out to the courtyard to sweep the grounds, or just to greet those seeking guidance from the Moon Goddess, Amaterasu.
The Order of the Shrine, had branches throughout Japan, with all