It's in the cards

They remember shopping at the Nakamura grocery store, and speaking Japanese to everyone in their Marysville neighborhood.

Now, on one Thursday each month, Hatsune Kadoi, 89, and a half dozen or so other ladies who once lived and attended school on B Street and in surrounding buildings east of Chinatown, gather in the community room of the Marysville Buddhist Church for several hours of craftwork and chatter.

They and several friends from a younger generation piece together origami and traditional handmade washi paper into greeting cards, which they sell to help raise money for maintenance of the church building — the sole remnant of this once-thriving Japanese-American community.

Kadoi checks the tiny swaths of colored paper that make up her current project to make sure she has folded them just so. But even meticulous handiwork does not stop her steady banter.

She reminisces about Mrs. Moriama, the midwife who helped bring many of her generation's Japanese residents — including herself — into the world.

Eight years later, Nancy Komatsubara, who sits nearby, had been born at a boarding house down the street from the church, also aided by a neighborhood midwife.

Komatsubara, 81, Kadoi exclaims, is "just a hioko (chick)." The comment prompts boisterous laughter from other ladies who sat side-by-side on Thursday, hands busy with tape and scissors and paper.

During World War II, Komatsubara, like most residents of Marysville's Japantown, was sent to an internment camp at Tule Lake, near the Oregon border. Kadoi spent time at a camp outside of Merced and at Granada (Amache) camp in Colorado.

Both remember returning to Marysville and finding nothing left of the Japanese businesses downtown.

Before, there had been restaurants, a barber shop, candy store, pool hall and mechanic's garage, all owned by Japanese residents.

"None of that, after we came back," says Kadoi.

The Buddhist temple, which was labeled a "church" so as not to call attention to cultural differences, had been dedicated in 1938 after the community worshipped for more than 30 years in temporary locations.

Yuko Hanson, 56, puts the finishing touches on a card that features a decorative image of a handbag. The card is designed so the bag can hold gift money. Hanson came to the San Francisco Bay Area in the 1980s from Tokyo, where she had been an English-speaking tour guide. Now she lives in Paradise and drives the hour to Marysville once a month for this bit of cultural bonding.

"I came to Marysville to learn flower arrangement, and here I am," she says, laughing.

Kadoi and the few early church members who are left say they appreciate the help and support they get from Hanson and other younger visitors.

Her own children, like most of her generation's kids, have all moved away. They visit Marysville and the church only on special occasions.

"They wanted us to get an education," says Lynn Yoshimura, 58, who grew up in Colusa and now enjoys the company of Marysville's once-monthly group. "So we all got educated and then went to jobs elsewhere."

Meanwhile, the Japantown's former residents have nearly all died. The church now has fewer than 50 regular, active attendees.

"My gosh, they're dropping like flies," Kadoi says of her own generation. "We just lost four recently."

Mostly, the conversation is light and jovial and focused on subjects other than card-making. But occasionally, the women comment on the activity in which their fingers are engaged.

"Some of these card (patterns) have jillions of pieces," Kadoi says. "If you're slow and pokey, it can take a very long time."

"We pretend to be crafty," she says, "but we're really here to socialize."

Contact Appeal-Democrat reporter Nancy Pasternack at 749-4712 or at npasternack@appealdemocrat.com.