Heeeeeyyyy, Tanabata! [Now, tell me: how many of you have that goofy Macarena melody bouncing around in your heads now? Maybe not many, if it was a regional thing…]

Tanabata legend, loosely translated:
Princess Orihime (the star known as Vega) is a fantastic weaver and makes really fly robes for her father, King Tentei (ruler of the heavens), who is very proud of her fine work. But Orihime is always busy weaving and comes to the realization that weaving all day is no way to meet a man. She’s depressed. King Tentei feels sorry for her and decides to introduce her to Hikoboshi (the star known as Altair), a cowherd that lives across the Amanogawa river (Milky Way). Orihime and Hikoboshi fall in love instantly and marry shortly thereafter. But now both of them are so busy mooning over each other that they quit doing any work. There is no new fabulous cloth for King Tentei, and the cattle Hikoboshi was supposed to watch over have been wandering all over the kingdom. Tentei is furious and separates the young couple, forbidding them to ever meet again. Princess Orihime cries for days on end and King Tentei finally caves, saying that if Orihime works hard and finishes all of her weaving, he will allow them to meet again on the 7th day of the 7th month. On that evening, the boatman (the moon) will come to ferry Orihime over the river, but if Orihime has not finished her weaving to King Tentei’s satisfaction, he may make it rain, causing the river to flood so that the boat cannot make the trip.

I suppose because the Chinese and Japanese population have traditionally been very industrious, the custom for scores of generations has been to celebrate Orihime’s seemingly endless labor, working toward a quality product and a heartfelt goal. Part of the traditional celebration involves writing wishes on special strips of paper, hanging the paper on a bamboo tree, and praying very hard for the wish to come true… and in honor of Orihime and Hikoboshi, people traditionally wish for skills and talents that can be put to good use. Of course, other things get wished for, too.

Anyway, back to the shipboard bamboo tree – I believe it was a moderate success. I constructed a series of tubes made out of cookie boxes that I’d flattened and rolled up inside-out, and then I stuck a fistful of those tubes upright in a plastic container. I stacked each of the remaining tubes into the top end of one of the tubes that was already standing in the plastic container, so the “bamboo” stalks were then two tubes high. Then I hit a wall and couldn’t figure out how to make the branches. The lab techs were in and out of the office while I was constructing these stalks and each time one of them came back in they would comment on my progress. [“Oooooh, bamboo beeeeeeegahr!,” says Yohei. “It’s magic!” says I.]

Yohei Arakawa (the Curator) works in the office with me most of the day, and I really enjoy his company. He’s a goofy guy and he loves to laugh. My favorite kind of friend. While I was contemplating how to construct the branches, I decided to make more room on my desk by consolidating the number of partly empty water bottles I had there. So I started pouring water from one bottle into another. After a few seconds, Yohei whipped around in his chair, crying “NO, NO, NO!!!” I stopped immediately and raised my eyebrows at him in question. Then he laughed and slapped his knees and said “Ahhhhhh ha ha… when I hear dat sound… I teenk… you water… bamboo.” So now I’m positive he thinks I’m crazy.

Still contemplating branches, I prepared the tanzuku (special paper on which to write wishes) and was glad, once again, that I had broken down and actually purchased scrapbooking paper to bring with me. It worked out wonderfully. I cut the paper into rectangles, punched a hole in one end, and looped a length of embroidery thread through each tanzuku. And we were ready to go, but for the branches.

I finally decided to enlist the troops. I made and posted on the wall an A3-sized (darn near 11 x 17 inches) poster explaining the Tanabata Festival and the legend behind it, and a few flyers inviting everyone to come and help construct and decorate the Chikyu Tanabata bamboo tree. At the appointed hour, one of the Japanese scientists helped me roll some A3 paper into cylinders with leaf-like shapes cut into the outside edges and we inserted those cylinders into the cardboard tubes, two “branches” to a tube. A little tape in strategic places and the thing was relatively stable, if not completely bamboo-ish. Absolutely workable, although a bit like Charlie Brown’s christmas tree. I comforted myself with the thought that probably only 2 other people on board had ever seen the Peanuts christmas special, so maybe nobody but me would make that connection. Anyway, I could finally stop thinking about it and, even better, I could finally get rid of the stash of odd objects I had collected that at some point probably looked like they might bambooable.

So on the evening of August 7th, a few of us wrote out wishes on the tanzuku and hung them on our little tree. When I got up the next morning, I found that more wishes had been added, plus one of the scientists had cut some paper into a web and hung it on the tree to represent the Milky Way. Others had made origami (cranes, stars, fish, a kimono, a box, and even what I thought was an octopus, but was actually a frog!) and hung them in the tree. It was really great to see that they had enjoyed it after all.

Now I have to figure out what to do with the wishes now that the festival is over. It seems disrespectful to just leave them hanging there. Were we on land, we’d toss the wishes into the river and let them wash out to sea. I’m pretty sure we’re forbidden from tossing anything overboard out here. But, technically, the wishes are already out to sea. Hmmmmmm… I believe I may have to consult with the authorities on the subject.

Meanwhile, work on the expedition report is progressing and I’ve also been able to keep up with most of my other work, one of the benefits of working 12-hour days, 7-days-a-week. Things get done. But I’m still having trouble sleeping so I’m tired, tired, tired. The cabin area is too quiet. I need me some white noise, people! I have finally resorted to taking Advil PM, hoping it will make me drowsy enough to ignore every little sound that breaks the silence. In the interim, funny little things keep happening to remind me how goofy I get when I’m really tired. Here’s an example:

I took my PC laptop to my cabin last night to work on something and left the USB mouse plugged into the Mac laptop that I left in the office. So this morning when I was back in the office and working on the Mac I kept trying to move the cursor across the screen and nothing was happening. Finally, I looked down and realized that instead of moving the mouse, I was actually pawing at the table top with my index finger, still in touchpad mode. Luckily, I was alone at that moment. It would have been difficult to explain myself. “Um… the table looked really itchy.” “Nice desks you have here.” “It’s just a nervous tic. Honest.” Or, more likely, an all-encompassing and weary “I need sleep.” They would all understand. But they would still laugh.