Japan Story Around Yokohama

Japan Story

My mother and I walked everywhere.  In Yokohama the shops were within walking distance, so we would go forth to buy whatever personal items we needed: new socks for Valerie, sewing needles or knitting 'wool' for my mother.  Since she had servants, they purchased  and transported all the household needs, groceries, and other essentials. 

Usually we walked back up a steep hill through the International Cemetery.  Here were buried Westerners from many countries, mostly Europeans.  It had been established the century before. It was smaller in the '30s , and I do not remember the huge trees that flourish there today.  It was a rather scary place, especially when my mother would hide  on me!  But it led up to the Bluff Road, and home.Hiding on little Valerie was an amusement indulged in by both parents.  I did not like it.  

My father had another trick.  We would be riding in a public conveyance of some kind, train or tram, and in front of all the passengers my father would seize my hand and place it in his palm. Then he would admonish me loudly slapping his palm, but missing my hand.  The passengers were amazed that I did not burst into tears.  What strange people these Gaijin were, hitting their children.

Another favorite stunt of his was used to impress small children. He would bend his thumbs, place one knuckle next to the other and hiding the place where the two came together, pull what appeared to be the top half of the thumb away.  I was amazed, but since there was no blood, knew it had to be some kind of trick. He had exceptionally large hands, with long, sensitive fingers.  Musician's hands, not workman's.  He was hopeless with a hammer or screwdriver, and when something needed fixing my mother would declare,

"We'll have to get a man in."

Which, needless to say, infuriated my father!