To a different drum

Like many of my experiences in Japan thus far, the coolest thing that has happened yet came as a surprise. The last night of the district conference was one big feeding frenzy, where platters of food that were set out were snatched up within about ten minutes. Our team, thinking that more rounds of food would surely come, sat back and relaxed. It always does. Wait for the fruit, right? That's our motto.

That never happened. But what did was even better. A drumline of girls in wildly bright outfits danced into the room. They were followed by dancers in pink. Then a flautist, then a singer. They were all so beautiful. Erin and I were tempted to join in.





The women here in general are beautiful. I was walking out of the hall when I saw the waitresses line up to bow as the Rotarians filed out of the hall. They were thrilled when I asked if they would take a picture with me. One of them whispered, "You're so tall." Yes, I am going to hold onto that one. It's the first, and likely the last, I will ever hear those words.


Lesson learned: Not only are Japanese women graceful, they know just what to say, even if they don't speak English.