COVID-19: The Gift that keeps on taking

O Sakura, My サクラ!

Around this time two years ago things were looking up. We were still trying to make the best of our remaining time in Addis Ababa, with plans for several domestic trips in the works. More importantly, we were going to visit Japan and Taiwan in the summer, followed up by a long-awaited sojourn to South Korea at the end of the year. And we were going to go on safari at some point before we had to leave Ethiopia.  

Of course, as it did for millions around the globe, life went off the rails in the spring of 2020. We caved in to pressure from the front office and found ourselves going nowhere quickly in Arlington, Virginia, spending six months doing next to nothing on the upper floors of an apartment complex in the Ballston area. The girls were eventually able to spend time in Taiwan, but I returned to Ethiopia, questioning what I was doing with my life, having lost much of my enthusiasm for the work I'd been doing prior to the pandemic (not that it was entirely the fault of the virus - bidding in the fall of 2020 was such a soul-crushing experience that were I younger and without a family to support, I would've moved on from the State Department by now). Although we were reunited as a family at Christmas of that year, the deteriorating security situation in Tigray meant our final months in Addis were largely confined to our residence and the immediate neighborhood, with a planned safari trip to Tanzania having to be canceled over concerns the government of that country wasn't taking the coronavirus seriously enough (it's even rumored Tanzanian president John Magafuli died of COVID-19). And now having to endure language training yet again at the Foreign Service Institute, I find myself with hours upon hours of unused leave that will most likely be lost forever by the end of this year. 

One thing, however, that was helping to keep things in perspective (and to keep me from too much privileged whining) was the comfort in knowing that we as a family had remained free of the coronavirus. Until now, that is.

A couple of weeks ago I went into a local CVS to receive a fourth booster of the coronavirus vaccine. While I was there, the pharmacist convinced me to get a first dose of the shingles vaccine at the same time. That evening I started to feel like I had the flu, which I assumed was just a reaction to the two vaccines. However, when the symptoms didn't abate after several days, I went to a different CVS to have myself tested, and the result was as I'd feared: positive. Not only that, but Shu-E and Amber soon after also tested positive for COVID-19. Thanks to our being fully vaccinated, both my wife and I felt like we only had bad colds, while our daughter insisted she had no ill effects. That was the good news; the bad news was that the timing couldn't have been any worse. Coming on the eve of Amber's spring break from school, our family outbreak meant that my sister had to cancel her plans to visit us on what would've been our first time together in more than two years (since our father's funeral), and her first trip to our nation's capital.

The disappointment has been bitter. Instead of spending time with Karen, we had to stay cooped up in our apartment for the most part. And although my daughter and I are negative again (at the time of writing, my wife is still positive, but feeling fine), I'm left wondering what the point of everything is. Shanghai is currently locked down and the Chinese government is giving no indication that it will abandon its Covid-zero policy anytime soon, so do I really want to spend the next few years only being able to shuttle back and forth between Beijing and the U.S., especially as everyone else I know in the Foreign Service seems to be out of quarantine and seeing at least some of the world again? Considering the various non-coronavirus health issues both Shu-E and I have faced in the past year, aiming for a numerical score on an ultimately pointless language exam has fallen pretty far down the relevancy list. 

Still, one has to focus on the positive, right? Spring is here and the cherry blossoms were a-bloom in the Washington, D.C. area. Seeing the サクラ is one of the things my wife looks forward to during our periodic stays in Falls Church (fourth time now), and this time around was no exception. Unfortunately, our 花見 did not get off to an auspicious start: two days after the vernal equinox (while we were still coronavirus-free as a family), we took the advice of "Jeff the weatherman" (so named by Shu-E because a certain afternoon weather reporter on a local news channel bears a strong resemblance to a friend of ours) who was advising viewers to go down to the Tidal Basin to see the blossoms while they were at peak bloom 満開, and before the rainfall predicted for the day after. So following a long family visit to the dentist, we drove into the District of Columbia...along with everyone else heeding the same advice. We spent more than two hours stuck in traffic at the Tidal Basin - by the time we reached the parking lot the sun had already set, and it was too dark to see any bloomin' flowers. At least my wife was able to take some photos from her passenger seat vantage point:

I was able at least to get an up close look at some blossoms in full bloom on the grounds of FSI, thanks to the powers that be decreeing that the threat from COVID-19 had lessened to the point that we can attend classes in-person on one day a week for now (and even though new cases are being reported at State Department facilities on an almost daily basis):

While the cherry tree gets all the attention at this time of the year, Cornus florida, Virginia's official state tree, insisted on getting noticed as well:

On mankai +1 (i.e. the day after the blossoms were officially at peak bloom on March 25) we made another attempt at seeing them, and this time succeeded, thanks to using the Metro to get into D.C. The temperature was an unexpectedly chilly 48°F/9°C (with a wind chill of 45°F/7°C), but at least it was sunny...at first:

This stone lantern has been standing beside the Tidal Basin since 1954, but it actually dates back to the early 17th century and the funeral of Tokugawa Ieyasu 徳川家康, as this Washington Post article explains:

By the time we had made a circuit of the Tidal Basin and were heading back to the Smithsonian Metro station, the weather was starting to take on a foreboding tone:

The older she becomes, the more reluctant my wife is to be photographed, especially if said images are going to end up being shared on social media. On the other hand, she can be an enthusiastic shutterbug at certain times of the year when flora is involved, and so the following are a few of the images she took and shared with me on Line. You make the call as to who has the better eye:

This 17th-century pagoda was a gift to Washington from the city of Yokohama 横浜 in 1957. Though the cherry trees were first gifted by the city of Tōkyō  東京 way back in 1912, there was apparently a flurry of goodwill gestures made in the years following the end of the Second World War:

We made it to the comfort of the underground before presumably the rain started to fall. On the way back to Falls Church we stopped off in Clarendon to have lunch at Hanabi Ramen, because eating Japanese food after seeing the cherry blossoms just seemed like the obviously cliched thing to do. Amber wasn't too pleased that I switched her Ramune ラムネ for my Kirin Ichiban キリン一番搾り just before Shu-E snapped the pic:

The repast started off with takoyaki たこ焼き and agedashi dōfu 揚げ出し豆腐 serving as appetizers:

I ordered the tonkotsu rāmen 豚骨ラーメン:

And, of course, we couldn't let dessert escape undetected, so the girl and I shared an imagawayaki 今川焼き, served with a helping of azuki red bean ice cream 小豆アイスクリーム. Might as well go all the way if you're going to go cliché!:

Once back safely at home, the clouds let loose with a quick but intense release of hailstones - by the time I had grabbed my phone and stepped out onto the balcony, the downpour had ceased, but the evidence was on the ground:

A Sunday with the girl. I asked her to choose where to have lunch, and she decided on a return visit to Borek-G: Turkish Mom's Cookin' Cafe & Market. It was an excellent decision as she had the doner on pita, I brunched on the Turkish sausage with egg, and we both shared some pastries (chocolate, pistachio and walnut) for dessert:

It was an afternoon of strong winds, cold temperatures and occasional snow flurries as Amber gained further experience behind the wheel. At one point we stopped at the National Memorial Park on the Lee Highway to have a look at the Buddhist Memorial Garden there, where we were both put off by the creepy, drained fountain (though the site of a large fox chasing after squirrels brightened my daughter's spirits somewhat):

I also had Amber pull off the road so we could check out this house. She thought at first it was the home of someone with an Asian fetish, but it turned out to be a functioning Vietnamese Buddhist temple called Chua Di Da:

A bit of "excitement" occurred one evening when my phone started buzzing with an emergency alert for a tornado warning in our area. All the network affiliates interrupted their regular programming for live weather reports alerting viewers of tornados and severe thunderstorms, though it was all over within a half-hour. Apparently there was a possible twister that touched down not far from us, but things were relatively quiet in our neighborhood. The only time I've ever seen a tornado was back in the early 1980's, when I saw a funnel cloud off to the north while driving west along Greenback Lane in Citrus Heights, California. News reports later confirmed that a tornado had gone through nearby Roseville, where it caused some damage to (what else?) a mobile home park:

In another sign that things were easing up (little did we know at the time that our situation would soon take a turn for the worse), my daughter took part in her first in-person Go 囲碁 tournament in more than three years. The Cherry Blossom Tournament took place at the National Go Center in Washington, and Amber did very well, winning three of four matches, and coming away with a book prize for her efforts. Or so I was told. I was supposed to have gone with her (as I'd done for previous tourneys), but this was two days after simultaneously receiving both my 4th COVID-19 booster shot and the first dose of the shingles vaccine,  and I was still feeling miserable (a feeling which would lead to the coronavirus test that would came back positive), so my wife instead gave up a Saturday to accompany Amber:

And then we were contaminated. Not only did we miss out on having my sister in town, we also had to scrub our plans to attend this year's edition of the Sakura Matsuri さくら祭り. And so we spent my daughter's spring break largely indoors. "Largely" because there were a couple of occasions where Amber and I went out so she could get some fresh air and spend more time learning how to drive. We made sure to only go places where we could easily avoid close contact with other, presumably healthier people, and always made sure to be masked. One spot was Jones Point Park in Alexandria, site of the last remaining riverine lighthouse in Virginia (1855):

Another day the two of us drove into Maryland, going as far as the Monocacy National Battlefield, before my daughter took the wheel and guided us safely home (and socially distant) through the Maryland countryside:

The girl also found the time to do some baking, preparing a batch of maple bars that turned out well:

Finally, with ⅔ of the family now officially healthy again, it was time to reenter society, which is why on this Saturday afternoon Amber and I took the Metro into the District of Columbia to visit the Hirshhorn Museum, and more specifically, One With Eternity: Yayoi Kusama in the Hirshhorn Collection:

Having obtained a pair of timed passes prior to our collective bout with COVID-19, it was fortuitous (for once) that we were able to attend - and, yes, we wore masks the entire time on the train and at the museum, and did our best to maintain social distancing, though it wasn't easy in the busy gift shop:

Yayoi Kusama 草間彌生 is an artist you should be familiar with. My daughter knows her for the pumpkins...:

…though she was surprised to learn Kusama is still alive and (relatively) well at age 93:

It's a small exhibit, but one that can be overwhelming on the senses. Here we are in the first of the two Infinity Rooms that visitors can experience - Amber wasn't aware of the what the figurines on the floor are supposed to represent. Ah, the innocence of youth!:

The second Infinity Room was more of a psychedelic experience:

Flowers-Overcoat (1964):

And because it wasn't far from the Hirshhorn (and because I insisted on going), the two of us afterward stopped at the National Museum of Asian Art to check out two new exhibits there. The first one was at the Freer Gallery of Art: Mind Over Matter: Zen 禅 in Medieval Japan. The Japan Times recently ran an article on the exhibition, which can explain what we saw far more coherently and intelligently than I could ever hope:

The more controversial Sackler Gallery is currently featuring Underdogs and Antiheroes: Japanese Prints from the Moskowitz Collection, featuring "subjects that are not commonly associated with traditional Japanese print culture but were nevertheless central to the interests of an early modern public", such as sumō wrestlers 力士…:

…fire fighters...:

… and kabuki 歌舞伎 actors and plays...:

Personally, I felt the curator is trying too hard to develop a theme that ties in a varied collection of 木版画. Also, many of the prints on display are from after the ukiyoe 浮世絵 heyday of the mid-late Edo period 江戸時代, and I don't find Meiji period 明治時代 prints to be as interesting. This 18th-century print of two wrestlers at a sumo fundraising tournament is much more to my liking:

Amber showing off her Yayoi Kusama pumpkin pin, a reward for having been dragged out to "appreciate art" a couple of days before she has to go back to school:

I'll be back in class from Monday. I could've continued studying Mandarin when it became clear Karen wouldn't be able to visit, but I wasn't in the mood. I'll probably end up hopelessly behind in my studies, but in a year of viral infections, irregular heartbeats, mini-strokes, clogged arteries and who knows what else lying in wait, perspectives change - some things become more important, others less so. As the armchair Japanologist would tell you, the cherry blossoms are a symbol that life is brilliant, but also fragile and transient, while Buddhism serves as a reminder that we are all mortal, and need to be mindful of living in the present. It's difficult to see how having to do a three-minute presentation in Mandarin on cybersecurity and technology fits into the grander scheme, but I doubt my teachers would let me talk about Zen Buddhism 禅宗 because such a topic doesn't serve the needs of political/economic officers. All cones may be equal in the Foreign Service, but some are more equal than others.