onigiri serendipity

on saturday night i went to see kamome diner.

for free.

the result of a random brochure find at the cinema nouveau in brooklyn mall a few days before.

serendipitous for sure, because instead of walking home that day like i had planned, i wandered around the mall looking at the various fluorescent-lit, bright, and glass window boxes, waiting for a car to be cleaned so i could go home.

and like a fated plan, i picked up a flyer below the stuck up-papered movie reviews between perspex in the cinema lobby.

a flyer advertising the movie listings for the 17th annual japanese movie festival, in celebration of 100 years of japanese-south african foreign relations.

and the blurb for kamome diner, in the centre of the brochure fold, caught my eye, differently laid out with a green background and more than one tiny movie still.

a movie about a japanese lady who sets up a diner in helsinki, finland, and although she initially struggles to attract customers, she soon grows her business with the help of two japanese tourists, an anime-loving regular, and an unfailingly positive attitude.

a story of cultural juxtaposition that appealed to me.

especially considering the appealingly poised, well presented and almost calm element i've always perceived about the finnish and japanese.

even though there was comparative south african mass confusion as we entered the cinema on saturday night, with patrons unsure of how to behave and which seats to take at this free screening.

but after waiting, politely, we eventually made our way past bent legs to two open seats.

which contrary to the general pre-movie seat-choice panic, were not taken at all.

which made me think that maybe we're just not used to things being free.

like the regular morning cup of coffee that the main character, sachie, gives to her first ever geeky finnish customer at her newly opened seagull diner, beautifully minimalist in half- blue and white slatted and painted interior walls, with perfectly polished, light wood tables and chairs.

which remain empty for a month while she meticulously dries glasses and smiles hopefully at passers-by, but which are soon steadily filled up by local clientele.

first with her consistent japanese-speaking teenage regular, and then the three inquisitive ladies who eventually take a pew after staring at the storefront several times, and are finally lured in with the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls.

and, as the plot progresses, and popularity of the diner increased, and more characters entered and left through the glass door, i felt myself becoming more and more engrossed in the story.

the interaction between japanese and finnish characters.

the meticulously clean helsinki city, with its fresh produce markets and bicycles.

and the serenely decorated interior of the seagull diner.

something i wish i owned.

and which i guess i could if i learnt how to make onigiri or rice balls, the principle dish, spooned and hand- shaped balls of rice stuffed with a filling like salmon and eaten with a rectangular strip of seaweed for grip.

which were surprisingly and enthusiastically dished out freely on trays by the japanese organisers of the event, after we exited the movie.

after i had also just mentioned out loud my desire to eat one of them, after watching them being eaten by most of the characters in the film.

and seeing its profound effect as an underestimated social glue.

so maybe having legitimate and engaging exposure to a cultural experience can be just a matter of dedicating time to watching a film in a dark, enclosed cinema.

and that to sample genuine cuisine, you often don't have to go very far.