Finishing up the details of a kitchen remodel takes almost as much time as tthe big stuff, like choosing cabinets. And, for me, it also takes a friend. If I'd paid for the Mercedes Benz of kitchen designers or cabinet suppliers, mine would have found and ordered the spice rack for me and the insets for the drawers.
But I was on my own and I don't feel competent or confident to make decisions like this on my own. To the rescue came Mutsuyo, a Japanese friend who's lived in the US since her college days and is married to an American.
After discussing what to do regarding my forty bottles of spices and what she'd done with hers through the help of a kitchen designer years previous, Mutsuyo volunteered to go shopping with me and to research on-line where to buy the rack. What a treasure I received in her help, not only on this matter, but also about where to arrange furniture in my changing living room.
I have many American friends with whom I've spent countless hours, many more than with Mutsuyo. She's a fairly recent friend. But those other friends are busier, with jobs, school or writing their own novels.
But I think there's another element too that has to do with contemporary California urban culture—they just wouldn't think of taking time to help me. This is my responsibility to bear alone, or pay someone else to help.
The concept of close friendship varies between cultures. In Japanese culture people assume that they are interdependent, that they need one another. In American culture, our myth is that we're independent, that it's weak or lazy or imposing on others to ask for help—except in dire circumstances.
But I do need help in many areas. I'm not strong in design or arranging items or researching on-line. I hate the loneliness and confusion I feel when I go shopping by myself at Ikea or Home Depot.
So I am very grateful that I have Japanese friends with whom I can admit my need and who will gently come in with understanding and gentle support.
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