Spring: Petals on a wet, black bough

Spring is universally known as the season of new beginnings, but in Japan, I feel it even more so than I did back in the States. The white-pink petals of cherry blossoms flutter in the wind, settle to the ground and sail in the streams. Beneath them, there are people sprawled on tarps, drinking and laughing or otherwise passed out in a drunken heap. (Drinking in public spaces is legal in Japan.) Spring is also the start of a new school year in Japan, and at night, there are huge groups of students blocking the streets on their way to “compa,” or drinking parties to welcome new club members.

This week was also Waseda University’s “shinkan” event, meant to welcome incoming freshmen. You could hardly see the campus for all the new students and club booths, filled with sempai (senior members) calling for recruits. The international circle I am apart of was there too, in its characteristic bright pink t-shirts, handing out bright pink flyers, and asking, “How would you like to participate in cultural exchange?” I wandered around, occasionally picking up flyers and listening to explanations of various clubs, with activities ranging from star-gazing to music to stroll-taking.

At night, I went to a “hanami,” or flower-viewing session with three other close friends. The four of us sat on a bench, opened up our cans of sake and drank to friendship and the start of a new semester. Looking at their faces and at the white cherry petals scattered about us like snow, I felt a little sad all of a sudden. Cherry blossoms in Japan are beautiful, but also mean ephemerality, and are thus often seen to represent human life or fleeting events. I don’t want to think that my own time in Japan is fleeting, but I know it is. For now, at least, it is spring and I am welcoming a new beginning and a new semester.