formal gatherings, not only parties in the teahouses, but 
swimming excursions, sightseeing tours, Kabuki plays, and so on. During the heat of summer 
when everyone felt most relaxed, these casual gatherings were often quite a lot of fun, even 
for those of us supposedly hard at work entertaining. For example, a group of men 
sometimes decided to go floating in a canal boat along the Kamo River, to sip sake and 
dangle their feet in the water. I was too young to join in the carousing, and often ended up 
with the job of shaving ice to make snow cones, but it was a pleasant change nevertheless. 

Some nights, wealthy businessmen or aristocrats threw geisha parties just for themselves. 
They spent the evening dancing and singing, and drinking with the geisha, often until well 
after midnight. I remember on one of these occasions, the wife of our host stood at the door 
to hand out envelopes containing a generous tip as we left. She gave Mameha two of them, 
and asked her the favor of delivering the second to the geisha Tomizuru, who had "gone 
home earlier with a headache," as she put it. Actually she knew as well as we did that 
Tomizuru was her husband's mistress, and had gone with him to another wing of the house 
to keep him company for the night. 

Many of the glamorous parties in Gion were attended by famous artists, and writers, and 
Kabuki actors, and sometimes they were very exciting events. But I'm sorry to tell you that 
the average geisha party was something much more mundane. The host was likely to be the 
division head of a small company, and the guest of honor one of his suppliers, or perhaps 
one of his employees he'd just promoted, or something along those lines. Every so often, 
some well-meaning geisha admonished me that as an apprentice, my responsibility-besides 
trying to look pretty-was to sit quietly and listen to conversations in the hopes of one day 
becoming a clever conversationalist myself. Well, most of the conversations I heard at these 
parties didn't strike me as very clever at all. A man might turn to the geisha beside him and 
say, "The weather certainly is unusually warm, don't you think?" And the geisha would reply 
with something like, "Oh, yes, very warm!" Then she'd begin playing a drinking game with 
him, or try to get all the men singing, and soon the man who'd spoken with her was too drunk 
to remember he wasn't having as good a time as he'd hoped. For my part, I always 
considered this a terrible waste. If a man has come to Gion just for the purpose of having a 
relaxing time, and ends up involved in some childish game such as paper-scissors-stone . . . 
well, in my view he'd have been better off staying at home and playing with his own children 
or grandchildren-who, after all, are probably more clever than this poor, dull geisha he was 
so unfortunate as to sit beside. 

Every so often, though, I was privileged to overhear a geisha who really was clever, and 
Mameha was certainly one of these. I learned a great deal from her conversations. For 
example, if a man said to her, "Warm weather, don't you think?" she had a dozen replies 
ready. If he was old and lecherous, she might say to him, "Warm? Perhaps it's just the effect 
on you of being around so many lovely women!" Or if he was an arrogant young 
businessman who didn't seem to know his place, she might take him off his guard by saying, 
"Here you are sitting with a half-dozen of the best geisha in Gion, and all you can think to talk 
about is the weather." One time when I happened to be watching her, Mameha knelt beside 
a very young man who couldn't have been more than nineteen or twenty; he probably 
wouldn't have been at a geisha party at all if his father hadn't been the host. Of course, he 
didn't know what to say or how to behave around geisha, and I'm sure he felt nervous; but he 
turned to Mameha very bravely and said to her, "Warm, isn't it?" She lowered her voice and 
answered him like this: 


"Why, you're certainly right about it being warm. You should have seen me when I stepped 
out of the bath this morning! Usually when I'm completely naked, I feel so cool and relaxed. 
But this morning, there were little beads of sweat covering my skin all the way up my body-
along my thighs, and on my stomach, and . . . well, other places too." 

When that poor boy set his sake cup down on the table, his fingers were trembling. I'm sure 
he never forgot that geisha party for the rest of his life. 

If you ask me why most of these parties were so dull, I think probably there are two reasons. 
First, just because a young girl has been sold by her family and raised from an early age to 
be a geisha doesn't mean she'll turn out to be clever, or have anything interesting to say. And 
second, the same thing goes for the men. Just because a man has made enough money to 
come to Gion and waste it however he chooses doesn't mean he's fun to be around. In fact, 
many of the men are accustomed to being treated with a great deal of respect. Sitting back 
with their hands on their knees and big frowns on their faces is about as much work as they 
plan to do in the way of being entertaining. One time I listened to Mameha spend an entire 
hour telling stories to a man who never even looked in her direction, but just watched the 
others in the room while she talked. Oddly enough, this was just what he wanted, and he 
always asked for Mameha when he came to town. 

After two more years of parties and outings-all the while continuing with my studies and 
participating in dance performances whenever I could-I made the shift from being an 
apprentice to being a geisha. This was in the summer of 1938, when I was eighteen years 
old. We call this change "turning the collar," because an apprentice wears a red collar while a 
geisha wears a white one. Though if you were to see an apprentice and a geisha side by 
side, their collars would be the last thing you'd notice. The apprentice, with her elaborate, 
long-sleeved kimono and dangling obi, would probably make you think of a Japanese doll, 
whereas the geisha would look simpler, perhaps, but also more womanly. 

The day I turned my collar was one of the happiest days of Mother's life; or at least, she 
acted more pleased than I'd ever seen her. I didn't understand it at the time, but it's perfectly 
clear to me now 
what she was thinking. You see, a geisha, unlike an apprentice, is available to a man for 
more than just pouring his tea, provided the terms are suitable. Because of my connection 
with Mameha and my popularity in Gion, my standing was such that Mother had plenty of 
cause for excitement-excitement being, in Mother's case, just another word for money. 

Since moving to New York I've learned what the word "geisha" really means to most 
Westerners. From time to time at elegant parties, I've been introduced to some young 
woman or other in a splendid dress and jewelry. When she learns I was once a geisha in 
Kyoto, she forms her mouth into a sort of smile, although the corners don't turn up quite as 
they should. She has no idea what to say! And then the burden of conversation falls to the 
man or woman who has introduced us-because I've never really learned much English, even 
after all these years. Of course, by this time there's little point even in trying, because this 
woman is thinking, "My goodness ... I'm talking with a prostitute . . ." A moment later she's 
rescued by her escort, a wealthy man a good thirty or forty years older than she is. Well, I 
often find myself wondering why she can't sense how much we really have in common. She 
is a kept woman, you see, and in my day, so was I. 

I'm sure there are a great many things I don't know about these young women in their 
splendid dresses, but I often have the feeling that without their wealthy husbands or 
boyfriends, many of them would be struggling to get by and might not have the same proud 
opinions of themselves. And of course the same thing is true for a first-class geisha. It is all 
very well for a geisha to go from party to party and be popular with a great many men; but a 


geisha who wishes to become a star is completely dependent on having a danna. Even 
Mameha, who became famous on her own because of an advertising campaign, would soon 
have lost her standing and been just another geisha if the Baron hadn't covered the 
expenses to advance her career. 

No more than three weeks after I turned my collar, Mother came to me one day while I was 
eating a quick lunch in the reception room, and sat across the table a long while puffing on 
her pipe. I'd been reading a magazine, but I stopped out of politeness-even though Mother 
didn't seem at first to have much to say to me. After a time she put down her pipe and said, 
"You shouldn't eat those yellow pickles. They'll rot your teeth. Eook at what they did to mine." 

It had never occurred to me that Mother believed her stained teeth had anything to do with 
eating pickles. When she'd finished giving me a good view of her mouth, she picked up her 
pipe again and took in a puff of smoke. 

"Auntie loves yellow pickles, ma'am," I said, "and her teeth are fine." 

"Who cares if Auntie's teeth are fine? She doesn't make money from having a pretty little 
mouth. Tell the cook not to give them to you. Anyway, I didn't come here to talk with you 
about pickles. I came to tell you that this time next month you'll have a danna." 

"A danna? But, Mother, I'm only eighteen . . ." 

"Hatsumomo didn't have a danna until she was twenty. And of course, that didn't last. . . You 
ought to be very pleased." 

"Oh, I am very pleased. But won't it require a lot of my time to keep a danna happy? Mameha 
thinks I should establish my reputation first, just for a few years." 

"Mameha! What does she know about business? The next time I want 