Frank Deaver Peace Editorials

     What is a “haori”?  And what does it have to do with “friends around the world”?  Perhaps it’s best to hold the answers until the scene is set.

     In April 1990, District Governor Mark Maloney called to ask if I would serve as adviser to a Rotary scholar from Japan who would enroll in graduate studies at The University of Alabama.  Of course I would!  In weeks that followed, I had exchanges of correspondence with her, as well as with Gov. Mark and with Rotary International

     Overflowing with enthusiasm, Yoriko Koizumi arrived in late summer.  She had an undergraduate degree in communication from a Japanese university, and expected to return home with a masters in journalism.  Because she would study in my department, I was also assigned to be her academic adviser and thesis chairman.  Obviously, we would spend considerable time together.

     Her visits to my office were not only for academic concerns, but frequently just to share things of interest.  (Not surprisingly, she soon had a local boyfriend!)  She occasionally attended Tuscaloosa Rotary Club with me, and she presented programs for several clubs and for district conference.  She was in our home often and occasionally she would prepare a Japanese meal for us.  She was more like a member of the family than a guest, and soon she was calling me her “Alabama dad.”

     Twenty months later, it was as much parental as academic pride that welled up inside me as she crossed the stage to receive her degree.  Her parents came from Japan for her graduation..

     Not long after Yoriko returned home, I was in Japan for an academic seminar, and of course the Koizumi family insisted that I visit them in Shizuoka, a coastal city midway between Tokyo and Osaka.  To employ the trite phrase that they “entertained me royally” would be an understatement.

     Among other things on our itinerary, we visited Shizuoka Rotary Club, the club that had sponsored Yoriko’s scholarship.  The president invited me to speak briefly and bring greetings from Tuscaloosa Rotary Club.  With Yoriko’s efficient translation, I was glad to do that.  We exchanged banners, and the president thanked me for “taking care of Yoriko.”

     Yoriko’s dad is in the lumber business, and owns considerable timber land high in the mountains, about an hour’s drive into the “Japanese Alps.”  He spent a day taking me into some of the most magnificent mountain country, where we explored forests of giant cedars, an ancient Shinto shrine, lush hillside fields of green tea, and a tea-processing plant.

     On the return trip, we stopped at a small restaurant whose building straddles a mountain stream.  As the waters rushed literally through the building, mountain trout were captured, cleaned, and broiled to perfection on freshly-cut cedar skewers.

     With the fish, we were served Japanese noodles, a chopsticks challenge since they’re very long and in a watery broth.  I had minimally mastered chopsticks for bite-size solids, but this seemed impossible.  Mr. Koizumi jovially demonstrated—bowl in hand, chopsticks urge some noodles to lips, then slurp, sip, slurp, sip----.  We laughed our way through the feast.

     Back in Shizuoka, Mrs. Koizumi served a traditional fruit dessert, and we visited late into the evening.  Then came the haori.

     A haori can best be described as a man’s kimono coat, worn on very formal occasions over other historical and traditional garments.  It’s typically black, very sheer, with deep sleeves drooping from forearms.  Obviously, it’s not worn for warmth but for symbolism.  In former times, it was commonly worn by elderly men, in recognition of their seniority.  Now its use is reserved only for very special occasions.

     Mr. Koizumi brought out a beautiful hand-made haori, and presented it to me.  “This was my father’s haori,” he said.  “It’s more than sixty years old.  I want you to have it.”  I could not believe that he would part with such a memento.  Gently I inquired, “but shouldn’t this remain in your family?”  (I had learned that to decline Japanese generosity can in their society be taken as an offense.)

     “It will remain in the family,” he said.  “You and I are fathers of the same daughter.”  It was hard to know if I was more touched by his gift or his words.  I continue to treasure both.

     What is a “haori”?  Now you know, it’s a formal Japanese kimono coat.  But to me it’s much more than that.  It’s a symbol of friends—no, family—around the world.