7

SNACK TIME

The subway ride took forever. Mom and Dad were on their phones. Sophie read her book. I had nothing to do because nobody had told me to bring my book. I could not talk. That was very hard! In our car, I counted people to pass the time. Ichi, ni, two businessmen in suits. Ichi, ni, san, shi, four students in school uniforms. I looked at the posters and signs in the subway car but they were all in Japanese.

Finally finally finally, we got to our stop. I held Dad’s hand as we got off. Once we made it outside to the street, I asked, “Am I allowed to talk now?”

“You’re allowed to talk, Jasmine,” Mom said, “but try to do it quietly and only if necessary on the subway.”

It was always necessary when I had something to say, but I would try to talk less on the subway.

As we walked, my shirt got damp from sweat. It was super-hot and sticky. It was so hot and sticky that I didn’t want to hold Dad’s hand anymore. I let go and skipped ahead.

“Matte!” Dad called.

I didn’t know what that meant so I kept skipping. Even though it was hot the air felt good as my ponytail swished and bounced.

“Jasmine!” Sophie caught up to me. “Dad said to wait.”

“How was I supposed to know?” I asked.

“If you had studied before we came, you would know stuff. Like not talking on the subway and not pointing and what matte means.”

It was hard to remember the rules in Japan. They were not the same as back home. Sophie and I slowed down to let Mom and Dad catch up with us, and we all walked together to the temple. It looked like everyone around us was going there, too.

“Why did you choose this place for your thing to do in Tokyo?” I asked Sophie.

“Well,” she said, “I really wanted to see Mount Fuji because it’s famous, but Mom and Dad said we don’t have time to do that this trip. I did a lot of research and Sensoji Temple is one of the most popular and well-known places in Tokyo. And it is the oldest temple in Tokyo. The pictures of it were awesome. And I have never been to a Buddhist temple before.”

I had never been to a temple before either, but knowing Sophie, it was something to be studied. Something to learn. That sounded boring. I was just about to tell her so when suddenly Sophie stopped walking. In front of us was a little building with tall columns and a fancy roof. Hanging right in the center was a ginormous red lantern with Japanese kanji in black written on it.

“This is the Kaminarimon,” Mom said.

“That means Thunder Gate,” Sophie said.

Whoa. It was the fanciest and biggest gate I’d ever seen, that was for sure. I wished our gate to the backyard at home looked like this. That would be awesome!

We walked through the gate onto a long road crammed full of people. It was like the whole city was here today. Lots of shops selling souvenirs and food lined either side of the road.

“What’s going on there?” I asked, pointing at a crowd. Then I remembered that pointing was rude, so I lowered my hand.

I followed my nose to something delicious. Sophie, Mom, and Dad followed me. I stopped at the group of people looking in a window. Inside was a man standing at a grill. He spooned batter in perfect circles, like cookies, onto the grill. Then he took a little spatula and flipped them over to cook. Oh! They were little pancakes, golden brown.

A few people stepped in front of me and I couldn’t see very well anymore. I peeked between two women and watched the man take two pancakes and smear chocolate between them! YUM!

“Can we get a snack?” I asked Mom.

She smiled. “Yes! I love dorayaki. Dad already got in line to order some for us.”

It smelled so sweet and delicious. I couldn’t wait to bite into fluffy, chocolate-filled pancakes!

Dad joined us and handed me a warm pancake sandwich in a white paper wrapper. I started to walk back down the shopping street, but Mom stopped me.

“It’s not polite to eat while walking,” Mom explained. Another new rule I didn’t know about. It was confusing not knowing things.

Mom nodded her head to where a few people were huddled next to the side of the shop, eating their dorayaki. We stood with them, and I bit into my chocolate pancake. I chewed. Wait. This wasn’t chocolate!

“It’s anpan!” I exclaimed. It was a sweet paste made from azuki. The red beans are my favorite mochi filling.

“What did you think it was?” Sophie asked with her mouth full.

I did not point out that she was being rude. Maybe in Japan it was okay to talk with your mouth full? There were a lot of things I didn’t know—the manners, the language, the city, and now, the food.

Not knowing so many things made my stomach wobbly, like I was walking on a tightrope. I thought I knew a lot about Japan, but maybe I didn’t.

Sophie had studied all summer to know things, but at least now I knew about dorayaki. Even though I had never had it before, it tasted familiar. Dad made pancakes at home every Sunday. Azuki was my favorite mochi filling. The flavors of pancakes and azuki together were delicious. I gobbled up my treat and felt a little better.