My Japanese summer

Washington state or Mie Prefecture?

It's been an amazing summer, traveling across the United States (and making a brief incursion into Canada) and reconnecting with family and friends, a litany of experiences and impressions that we'll be taking with us to China next month, negative COVID-19 tests willing. One of the more unusual stops on our lengthy itinerary was at the Tsubaki Grand Shrine of America アメリカ椿大神社, the first Shintō shrine 神社 to be built in the mainland U.S. following the end of the Second World War. Originally located in Stockton, California, the shrine was relocated to its present location in Granite Falls, Washington in 1986. While I've come across several Buddhist temples in this country, it still came as a surprise to drive up to a genuine torii 鳥居 gate in a rural city in Snohomish County:

The American jinja is a branch of the Tsubaki Grand Shrine 椿大神社 in Suzuka City 鈴鹿市, Mie Prefecture 三重県, a shrine which I never visited despite living in neighboring Yokkaichi 四日市. The Washington version is laid out in the manner of many jinja in Japan, beginning with the temizuya 手水舎, where I rinsed my hands and mouth in a ritual purification rite:

The honden 本殿, where the main kami 神 is enshrined: 

My daughter makes a request of the kami in the proper manner:

Shimenawa 注連縄 and gohei 御幣:

A pair of komainu 狛犬. The one on the right has its mouth open pronouncing "a", the first letter of the Sanskrit alphabet, representing the beginning of all things...:

…while the shape of the mouth of the one on the left was of an "um", the last Sanskrit letter, symbolizing the end of all things. Whoa:

Ema 絵馬 votive tablets. Unlike in Japan, visitors to this shrine are asked not to read the various wishes:

The girls gaze at the Pilchuck River, which flows behind the shrine buildings:

The decision to locate the jinja in the Pacific Northwest was the correct one. It's difficult to imagine Stockton providing the appropriate atmosphere:

Various small sub-shrines dot the grounds:

Just as in Japan, we couldn't leave without purchasing some omamori お守り talismans. Mine is on the left, beseeching the kami to keep me healthy; Shu-E's is in the middle, for prosperity in business; while Amber's on the left is for success in her studies:

Visiting the Tsubaki Grand Shrine of America wasn't the only Japan-themed experience we've had during Home Leave (see this earlier post which includes our stop in Los Angeles' Little Tokyo district). There was the afternoon spent at the Alderwood Mall in Lynnwood, Washington, where I was bitterly disappointed to discover that a shop called Box Lunch didn't sell bentō 弁当; instead, it was a Gen Z version of Hot Topic or Spencer's:

This store was just sad - is this what a "Japanese lifestyle" means to a lot of people?:

Things greatly improved upon discovering there was a Daisō ダイソー outlet in the vicinity of the shopping mall:

Also close to the mall (and a local branch of H Mart) is a Katsu Burger. My daughter and I debated over the meaning of "Japanese-style burger". Amber took it to mean hamburgers with Japanese-type ingredients, while I argued the term should be applied to what you find on the menus at Japanese burger joints like MOS Burger モスバーガー or Lotteria ロッテリア. We're both right:

No trip to the Seattle area is complete without a visit to the Uwajimaya 宇和島屋 grocery store (for my wife) and the Kinokuniya 紀伊國屋書店 bookstore (for my daughter and me):

So many books, so little luggage space for them. In the end I bought one of the titles pictured below:

Amber's small purchase:

And, of course, reconnecting with America doesn't mean abstaining from Japanese food. One night at our Airbnb our daughter made us okonomiyaki お好み焼き for dinner, using a starter kit she picked up at Daiso:

We went out as a family for dinner to celebrate 20 years of marriage to Shu-E:

The spoon belongs to my wife, while the chopsticks are being wielded by my daughter as they both attempt to seize part of my omurice オムライス while eating out in the food court at H Mart:

And, finally, many a day has been concluded with a Japanese craft beer 地ビール or two, purchased from various Asian grocery stores:

The purpose of Home Leave is to reacclimate one to life in the U.S. With a Taiwanese family, roots in the British Isles and Canada, and an (unhealthy) obsession with Japan, the program is struggling to have the desired effect. Still, it's been a great summer, though I do miss the sounds of the cicadas: