Karaoke with a Japanese grandmother

When I was working as an English teacher in Japan, I met Nobuko. She was the mother of one of my good friends, and although she was in her 60s, she was always the life of the party. I’ll never forget the time she turned up for dinner wearing a figure-hugging T-shirt with a photograph of a naked woman’s chest printed on it, nipple rings and all. It was something I’d probably never wear, let alone expect to see on a woman who had grandchildren.

Nobuko didn’t speak English well, but she loved to sing in English. We often went to a karaoke box together, usually with her daughter and some of our other friends, too. We’d sing a few Japanese songs, her daughter and I would sing some Queen or maybe something off the current charts, and then always the discussion would turn to ABBA. Nobuko had an old cassette copy of ABBA Gold that she played in her kitchen when she was cooking.

Her favourite song from ABBA Gold was Chiquitita. Hands down, her favourite song. Every time we went out to karaoke together, she insisted that we sing it together – I was the native English speaker who was supposed to help her get the words right, she was the enthusiastic, super-cool Japanese grandmother who brought the right rhythm and soul to the song.

Sometimes I tried to explain some of the words of the song to Nobuko, but she wasn’t really interested. She loved the slow bits, especially “I’m a shoulder you can cry on”, which she always crooned much too high, but at least with passion. During the faster parts of the song she’d often give up singing and leave it to me to carry the tune. And at the end, she always gave me a quick hug and we’d laugh together.