Up By 5 am, Again

This jet-lag stuff is tough this time around. It’s one thing to jump continents, but traveling clear to the other side of the planet has thrown me for a serious loop. It is almost 5 am and I am wide-awake.

Although, I am pretty sure it’s the tummy ache that has me stirring. Maybe I lose the ability to eat fried foods like tempura upon arriving in Japan, and the ability to eat ice cream on my return home.

It's like one of those ridiculous hypothetical questions, “Would you rather never travel the world and enjoy eating all of your favourite foods, or travel but lose the ability to eat something you really enjoy every time you take a flight that is more than 10 hours long until you can only stomach lettuce, dry toast, and green tea?”


Tempura fried ice cream anyone? Forget about it!

I'm Home

I am in Toronto, Canada. It’s Wednesday here and I arrived late, Monday afternoon.

I would have posted a message sooner, but the 13-hour time difference has kept me pretty much keeled over for the last 48 hours. And, it’s cold here too. Only 22 degrees today, yet everyone still seems to have their air-con cranked. Burrrrrr!

It’s been nice to catch up with family. On Friday, I will make my way to Ottawa and Noah and set myself to the task of finding some sense of normal around here.

So far, I find the rice here to be very inconsistent, the streets amazingly wide, and the beds far too soft. But, the bread is good, the sunsets late, and the ground doesn’t shake, so I guess you win some and lose some in this moving game. I also have the familiar sound of the cicada for consistency.

How The English Club Tried to Kill Me: Saying Goodbye

On Friday morning, I will wake up, shower, inspect the apartment so that I can be sure I haven’t forgotten anything, and head for the airport.

The last few weeks have been all about goodbyes. My goodbye tour, I call it. Saying goodbye to the city and country that have been my home for the last year and all of the wonderful people I have met. And, it turned out to be very different from the tour I had planned. But, such is life. The girls’ trip to the beach didn’t happen and Fuji remains to be conquered (I was thinking about letting myself be talked into that one.)

Instead, my trip to Kanazawa with my friend Reina was my last far-flung adventure, and plenty of afternoons were spent at the hospital. There is, of course, the packing, but nothing could have changed that.


The first big goodbyes were said on June 27th. This was my last day of classes at Nitta Akatsuki and the teacher and students managed to organize a lovely surprise party complete with singing, snacks, presents, and tears.




After school that day, Maruhashi-sensei’s family hosted a sushi party. Giant platters of the stuff along with freshly, homemade udon noodles. It was so lovely to spend some time with this family. Three generations sharing a meal and laughs together. Just wonderful.


Ota’s city festival was on July 18th and 19th. I wandered the streets on Saturday afternoon watching the food stalls set up and visiting with my friend Minoru, a volunteer organizer for the day. He treated me to shaved ice and yakisoba. As the afternoon cooled off, my friends began arriving and we enjoyed the energy of the night outdoors and in local pubs.


On the Sunday, I headed off to meet my Japanese family, the Ueda women, for some farewell fun in Yokohama and Tokyo. Lunch was our first stop and we went to an all-you-can-eat dessert buffet. Then Chinatown. Then fireworks. But the fireworks ended early for us after the police decided we could no longer sit in the place they had seated us only 20 minutes before. So, we found a fantastic Chinese restaurant and savoured our meal before the crowds descended. We capped off the nigh with cocktails at a hotel bar with a view.


Tuesday was a double-header. At 4 pm, I was in the school cooking room flipping pancakes for students and working up a sweat. By 6:30 pm, I had showered and was running late for a yukata party organized by my cooking school teacher.


Otsuka-sensei had bought me a lovely blue yukata and red obi, along with gaita and the valuable time of a kimono teacher to help me put it all on. The women from my cooking group were there too. And, so was a cable TV cameraman!


The next night was my goodbye work enkai. About 30 of us piled into a second floor Japanese style restaurant for mountains of sashimi and bubbling hot sukiyaki. It was lots of great fun. But, by the end, I was too tired to go out and enjoy the second party.


One day of rest. The official goodbyes at school were Friday. There was a speech for teachers and staff and a big goodbye address to the whole school, which for some reason I forced myself to attempt in Japanese. It was nerve-wracking and incredibly hot. I think some of the students actually melted away. In my dress clothes, I was dripping with sweat and trying desperately to imagine life in an igloo. I survived the day. And, at four o’clock, a raucous thunderstorm helped wash away some of the stress and sadness.


Saturday was full of laughter. I ended up smack, in the middle of Japan, or so the people of Shibukawa claim, for the annual Heso Matsuri (Bellybutton Festival.) ALTs from all over the prefecture turned out and we took turns wishing each other well before setting off on our separate ways.

Sunday was lunch with my good friends in Ota, Minoru and Tsugio Urano. We went to a little café in the city centre and then sipped homemade ume juice at their home just chatting and swapping travel stories.


On Tuesday morning at 10:15, the English club threw a party in my honour. It was a candy party and we laughed and played games while indulging in all things sugar. At one point, I was instructed to mix a candy concoction. It turned colours and grew into a foaming mass of purple goo. I was then told to eat some, and so I did. It was awful! And I suddenly recalled the time my sister and I tricked my aunt into eating a fizzy candy. Oh, how the tables turn. But, I survived. And it was so touching to know that some students felt so strongly about my time with them. I am going to miss them a lot.

Tomorrow night is a little sushi party with friends.

I met my successor, packed up my stuff, gave up my bike, and will soon be on my way. I have so many memories to take will with me. I am a very lucky person.

(P.S. A couple of large cockroaches also came by to wish me well, but I put a stop to that by patching up the hole in the bathroom wall. YUCK!)

It’s HAWT!

The temperature climbs to about 35 degrees Celsius daily and I have become addicted to air-conditioning, a concept I normally hate.

I walked in the door about half an hour ago, exchanging the wretched and buggy humidity outside, for a hot and stuffy apartment. I stripped down, cranked the air, doused myself in cold water and downed several glasses of ice cold water (I normally avoid cold drinks along with air con.)

Giant and LOUD insects are taking over the city and I’m renewing my commitment to freeze my garbage to keep the toasty apartment from stinking up while I’m working at school.

Speaking of which, there is air conditioning in the staffroom, but that’s basically it. The fans are cranked and the widows are opened wide in the hopes of generating a little breeze. But then, there’s the giant insect issue again as the indoors and outdoors merge. Only, the students are less than eager to share their classrooms and lessons are suspended while bees, and even butterflies, find their way out.

Tuesday and Wednesday are sports days at school. The students will be exerting themselves in this unbearable heat.

Oh, and it gets hotter. Last year, the region of Gunma, Japan that I call home hit about 46 degrees. It was the hottest place in Japan – hotter even, than the southern prefecture of Okinawa.

This year, I have the advantage of warming up with the weather. Maybe it’s a little less of a shock to the system this way. Maybe.

But you know, the one consolation I have is that I’m not alone in my suffering. Even people here from hot countries like Trinidad and South Africa admit that the heat here is pretty intense. So there! See, it has nothing to do with me being Canadian, even if my students are shocked to learn that we get warm temperatures in the double digits. Now, where is that ice pillow…?

An Update…

Yeah, so I disappeared there for a bit again. Not as bad as the April blackout, but still a lengthy hiatus. Sorry.

There are reasons that I haven’t been blogging as much as I, and perhaps you, would like. (Yeah, I flatter myself, I know.) Usually, the whole blogging thing gets backlogged if I am over-busy, or over-stressed. And, given that I am getting packed and ready to make my way home to Canada in a few short weeks, that definitely applies. But only to a degree.

This time, the biggest reason from my not writing was that I just didn’t know how to even begin describing a real-life nightmare.

Exactly two weeks ago, a good friend of mine here in Ota was riding her bicycle when she was hit by a truck. It was a Monday afternoon.

But, it wasn’t until about 9 am the next morning when I learned of the accident by cell phone text message. I bust into tears in the school staffroom. And it took an entire eight hours after that before some of her friends were able to work our way into the ICU just so we could hold her hand.

The last two weeks have been a blur, an absolutely heart wrenching blur. And everything, everything, everything has become a second priority. Packing for home, eating and sleeping, cleaning my apartment, even my lesson plans have taken a bit of a hit, which I feel horrible about.

I will spare you the details of all that has been going on around here. I will spare you the litany of emotions I have experienced.

What I will say is that now I actually feel ready to mention this and, perhaps, even get some sleep. My friend has been recovering little by little. She finally opened her eyes this weekend. And somehow, having that good news to report, I am finally able to tell you what happened.

(P.S. Thank you to my family and friends for your love and support. A little bit of strength from loved ones at home goes a long way towards being able to support those who need it most here.)

Sixtieth

This is post number 60: an anniversary of sorts. And now that I am in contact with my successors, and getting ready to move my life yet again, it seems like a good time for some reflection.


Things I accomplished:
- Coming to Japan - I am so happy to have followed through on this dream. I truly believe that everyone should experience living in a different country at least once.
- All that I have learned - Whether was developing a teaching style, or exploring new places, or even discovering new things that I really enjoy, I have learned a lot over the last ten and a half months.
- Re-learning how to ride a bike - It is possibly the closest feeling there is to flying.
- Learning to cook Japanese food
- Maintaining a strong relationship with Noah
- Living truly on my own for the first time in my life
- New friendships


Things I regret:
- Not learning much Japanese - I intended to but found there was just too much to juggle.
- Not finding the clear vision I was looking for about what to do with my life
- Missing important life events with people at home
- Not doing and learning enough art here - I wish I could have had time to learn woodblock printing or Japanese pottery or drumming. I go to the Ikebana club from time to time, but I am at a loss to understand what is going on.
- Not climbing Mt. Fuji - No time, and no energy
- Getting sick when Erin came to visit
- Living in a Leopalace - This is only an occasional regret. Sure, it’s not traditional and there is no tatami… but its clean and comfortable.
- Forgetting my camera on days like today
- Not seeing monkeys with Noah
- Not blogging and writing more about my experiences
- Having to go home (rejoicing and regretting)
- Buying pineapple wine - Now I need an occasion to drink it and I don't know when or how I will get a chance.

Things I will miss about Japan:
- My new friends here
- Riding the trains and watching the beautiful scenery go by
- Riding my bike on the sidewalk
- Having my own little apartment
- Feeling like a celebrity and those jaw dropped looks I get when my students spot me outside of school.
- My students
- The flowing green rice fields and the mountain backdrop
- Lots of delicious Japanese food
- Having a good, steady job
- The sense of safety and security I have here
- Exploration and discovery
- Onsen!
- A given price is the total cost… taxes are accounted for and tipping isn’t done
- It’s so clean!


Things I will be glad to leave behind:
- The feeling of illiteracy and dealing with language barriers
- Having to carry large wads of cash and remember to hit the bank before the weekend
- The more rigid gender roles that exist in Japan
- Hierarchy
- The loss of anonymity (I still can’t believe the post office called my school. Twice!)
- Sticky, sticky humidity
- Being told I have a “small face”, whatever that means
- Being a foreigner
- Winter without indoor, central heating
- Really big bugs and random snakes
- Needing help to do simple things, like reading a bus schedule

Things I miss about home:
- Noah!
- My family and friends
- Plentiful and cheap fruit!
- Conversations about politics and other important issues
- Central heating
- Cultural diversity
- Favoruite foods cooked by the people I love

Things I am worried about dealing with when I get home:
- Re-learning how to share a home with someone
- Having to move apartments… or not move…either way
- Being in Ottawa
- Making a plan
- Food portions - I know this sounds silly, but I don’t want to go back to North American servings.
- Being misunderstood or misunderstanding others

A Symphony of Frogs

It rained today. Not something unusual considering it is the rainy season here now. The rice paddies are flooded with just the tops of new plants peaking out above the water.

And, at night, the paddies come alive.

A chorus of frogs is making good use of the little paddy at the end of my block. And, on nights like this one, their songs fill the humid night air. They sing me to sleep.

I wanted to share with you a true audible pleasure. Please listen to the the video.

10 Food Facts for People Moving to Japan

1. Japanese food is not what you think (well, not ONLY what you think.) Ask a person in Japan what he thinks we like to eat in Canada/America and he’ll likely tell you hamburgers, fries, pizza and cola. Well, yeah we do eat these things, but also so much more. The same can be said for Japanese food. Yes, you will find sushi, rice and noodles, but the Japanese have lots of wonderful, creative dishes. (And not so wonderful ideas.) For example, did you know curry is a popular Japanese food?

2. Japanese food is, on average, oilier and fattier than you think. Lots of things are deep-fried. Mayonnaise is a staple. Milk is often whole. Don’t believe the myth that you’ll lose weight living in Japan. It may be the opposite. Try to follow the lead of the people in Japan and limit your serving sizes to balance things out.

3. The Japanese take their food very seriously. And, it shows. Every region, and every town has its own specialty. Japan is a land of gourmet. In fact, according to the latest Michelin Restaurant guide to Tokyo, Japan’s capital has more top ranking eateries than Paris.

4. You can find most of your favourite foods at the grocery store. Some things may be a bit tricky to locate, but it’s just about all here. And, if you live near an international store of some kind, you may be able to get lots of your favorites from home. Some exceptions, however: good, crunchy peanut butter made with JUST peanuts; zucchinis; Macintosh apples and, big green peppers. Other things can be found, but are either difficult to track down, just don’t taste the same, or are very expensive. This includes things like fresh basil, hard cheeses, button mushrooms, pickles, olives, pita, etc.

5. Yes, food here is expensive. It may take you a little while to find the good, local food shops, but once you do, you will discover that it can often times be cheaper to eat out than eat at home. With rising food prices globally, and food disputes with China, lots of groceries are pretty pricey. Still, it is important to eat a good mix of food including fresh fruits and veggies, so budget and plan ahead. Oh, and if you do spend ten times as much for some strawberries, for example, you may actually find they are ten times as good as anything else you've ever tasted.

6. Carbs are in, fiber is out. Raw vegetables are not a large part of Japanese cuisine. Most vegetables are either cooked or pickled. This may throw your tummy for a bit of a loop, so try to remember and make an effort to eat healthy.

7. You will need help at the grocery store, and you will make mistakes. Don’t be afraid to confirm with another shopper to be sure you have the right kind of soy sauce, flour, or seaweed product. Don’t worry if your chocolate treat turns out to be read bean, or your mint ice cream is really green tea. It happens to the best of us. Try signing up for a cooking class to learn your way around the grocery store and the Japanese kitchen.

8. You will find new and delicious things you will absolutely love and miss. Things like yuzu, soyjoy bars, burdock, and black sesame and honey paste will one day be long lost favourites.

9. Being a vegetarian is a challenge. Just because there is a strong history of Buddhist influence, doesn't mean you’ll find lots of vegetarian treats. Lots of things are made with fish stock, so be careful. And for the vegans, you’ll find soymilk and tofu easily enough, but not soy cheese or soy ice cream. Allergies can also be difficult to manage for the same reason. And, new foods sometimes lead to the discovery of new allergies. For example, one young woman found out the hard way that wasabi causes her to projectile vomit.

10. Try, taste, and explore. There are so many things to taste in Japan. Many things are seasonal or local delicacies. If you don’t try things when you get the chance, it may be too late. Try the bitter goya in Okinawa, and the lavender ice cream in Hokkaido. Pick up persimmons in the fall, fresh mochi for new years and sakura treats in the spring. And, most of all, savour the experience.

Japan's Parliament Recognizes Ainu as Indigenous People

As part of my work at my Friday visit school, I've been asked to do some social studies lectures on my country, Canada. I have about 30 minutes to try and get some very simple information across about a large and complicated country. Even so, I made it a priority to talk about the First Nations.

I present a very basic overview. I show samples of art and talk about the fact that these were people who lived on Turtle Island long before the Europeans came. And, I don't gloss over things. I know I am an ambassador of sorts for Canada, but that doesn't mean I can't mention the bad with the good. So, I tell them about genocide, and residential schools and poverty. I also talk about the struggle for change and show them a brief video of last year's day of action in Ottawa. I tell the students that things are changing, but slowly.

"Well, at least Canada is doing something," one English teacher said in response to my presentation. His remark was in reference to the struggles of the Ainu, Japan's indigenous people in Hokkaido. It was only three days ago that their status was officially recognized by the Japanese government. It's a first step.

Read more about it here.

Mascot Mania

Okay, let me just preface by saying I am NOT making this up. There are a lot of things around here that I sometime feel should start with that disclaimer. This is a good one. And, it’s not because this is a stupid or strange idea. It is a matter of just plain ol’ cultural difference.

Where I come from, we don’t seem to have as many mascots, and we don’t seem to go for all things cute… as much. Yeah, we do logos, but we don’t need a character for everything. Then again, Japan may be ahead of us and this is just an indication of what’s to come for folks at home (I say this having read about the trends in branding that developed here during the Edo period.)

Here it is… Japan’s new lay-judges have their very own mascot. He’s a giant, green parakeet. Look how cute!

The justice minister apparently donned the costume at the official announcement this week.

Now, I don’t know exactly what the lay-judge program is all about, but surely, Saiban-inko, as the giant bird is know, will help me with that problem. That’s his job.

I was reading this story in the newspaper over lunch in the staff room today and could not contain my laughter. How odd, it seemed to me to have Big Bird as a judicial mascot. “What is it?” a teacher asked in Japanese. The thing is, to me this is hilarious. To him, it’s just the way it is, and it isn’t really all that funny.

A Rainy Afternoon

Taking a break from my piles of homework, I decided to for a bike ride this afternoon in the rain. We’re just starting the rainy season here and I’ve been told to expect wet weather of various types for the next few weeks. It was tempting to stay dry, and indoors, but I ventured out none the less.


I stopped first at a lovely shrine complex near my house and behind a luxury hotel. It is a fox shire and very opulent compared to others in Ota. A large torii gate at the front, beautiful red lanterns and lush trees. There’s even a small ice cream shop, although I didn’t treat myself today.

Instead, I decided I would bike north along the river and check off something else from my Japan to do list. Ten months in Japan, and I still had yet to taste my first Mos Burger. I went for the chicken teriyaki burger with a small order of fries and a melon cola to wash it down. It was fine.

My last stop was more investigative.


For weeks now, I have been passing this very odd scene on the bus ride to my visit school each Friday. A beautiful grey stone building with these large red and rusted doors. And next to it, a graveyard of sorts. Large, ceramic dogs, shattered and strewn around a parked van. But why?




A collection, perhaps. Or a practical joke. Maybe it is some kind of an elaborate anti-theft device. Strange and eerie, regardless.

More pictures here.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game, Kudasai

I’m not sure why I wanted to go so badly. It could have been that ridiculous Tom Selleck movie, Mr. Baseball. Well, on Saturday I finally got my chance to see an honest to goodness Japanese baseball game. It was so much fun! See, for me, the best part of a sporting event is watching the people who are watching the game.


Packed, and ready to go, I left my home at about 7:40 am and made my way to the train station. It wasn’t until shortly after 11 am that my friends and I finally arrived at the Seibu Dome in Tokorozawa, Saitama, home of the Lions. And, even though the game was set to begin at 1 pm, had we been on our own for this outing, we would have arrived way too late for seats.

Lucky for us, we had some co-conspirators on the inside. The trip and ticket purchasing was organized by the JET council in my region. Thankfully, they had the foresight to be there about an hour earlier and were able to grab some space for us to watch the game.

Our tickets, at about $16 a pop, were of the cheapest variety – outfield, general seating, bring your own tarp. The floor was soft rubber green. Very cushy under our bums, but it was sometimes hard to help a slow downwards slide towards the field. Shoes removed, we enjoyed a picnic lunch before the start of the game. We supplemented our food with the ball park fare - Baskin Robins ice cream sandwiches and beer from on-tap backpacks. No peanuts. No crackerjacks. I didn’t spot any hotdogs or nachos either.


The real fans were busy pre-game too. There was a warm up to watch, and players to meet. Some lucky young fans tied long string to jerseys, ball caps, gloves and other gear and went fishing for autographs over the outfield fence.

A quick survey of our surroundings revealed that we were in Giants’ territory. The entire dome was divided in half according to team loyalty. Home team fans on one side, visiting team fans on the other. We were part of the other, a sea of orange and black.

Let’s go Giants!


The game got underway and it suddenly became very clear that we had a job to do. Our section was responsible for cheering for our team. We were loud, boisterous… AND choreographed. That’s right, choreographed.

Standing up on milk crates, at the front of the general seating section were three cheerleaders. The job of these men with whistles and cue cards was to conduct a somewhat rowdy orchestra of fans. A cheer would be announced and the corresponding movements demonstrated enthusiastically. We were told when to stand, when to sit, what to yell and when, and when to stop and move on to the next chant. None of this “the pitcher has a rubber arm” business here. If your boys were up to bat, you were on your feet cheering them on without pause, often at the price of actually being able to pay attention to the game.

There was the traditional scantly clad variety of cheerleaders too, but only for the entertainment of the home team crowd. There were noisemakers, and flags and towels to wave in the air whenever a run was scored.

In the end, our team lost. With the home team victorious, fireworks and streamers shot off. And then, one of the most interesting moments of the whole game. The Lions’ mascots and two players came out to thank their cheering section. Balls were tossed into the crowd and bows were exchanged in gratitude.

I’ve often heard sports fans refer to their favourite team as if they were a part of it. Stuff like, “We won!” Or, “Our defense sucks.” It’s always struck me as odd. But not here. Here, the fans, at least the ones with the cheap tickets, really are a part of the game.


Watch what happened when the Giants scored a run.

Check out more pictures here.

Earthquake!

My heart is racing. And, it’s not the typhoon outside that’s doing it. I am fine with typhoons, I’ve discovered. Just stay dry, and you’re good.

No, it’s the coffee I had today to keep me wide-awake and marking essays all afternoon. I managed to get through the stack of 80 papers easily today, but that’s nothing compared to the 240 exams that are about to hit my desk in less than 48 hours.

The combination of the pounding in my chest and the destructive force outside my window reminded me that I’ve been meaning, for the last couple of weeks, to tell you about our most recent earthquake here. It was, to be succinct, scary.

It was thewee hours of Thursday, May 8th. I was sleeping, as soundly as possible on a rock-hard futon, when I felt the first one. It shook me awake. They always shake me awake. It’s amazing how much sway is added by simply being on the second floor.

To be relaxed is to be warm and heavy; to let your body feel as if it is sinking into the ground, imagining that the earth is cradling you. But, when that earth starts to shake… Well, for me there is nothing more jarring.

It was sometime just after one AM when the first one woke me. The ground was rocking from side to side. I have learned to detect the difference between the up/down of a truck rumbling by and the side-to-side motion of an earthquake even in my sleep. Eyes wide open, I knew it was over and tried to relax. But, not even 10 minutes later, and it was happening again. Well, that did it. I was up and wide awake and needing to do something productive to calm down and relax.

So, I did two things. One smart… the other questionable. I phoned my parents to take advantage of the time difference, and I discovered the website for the Japan Meteorological Agency where I could watch the seismic updates stream in. At 1:45 I was reading about the two quakes (6.3 and 6.2 off the coast to the east of me) and talking about how shaken I was when the room began to quiver again. It felt long. It was long enough for me to say things like, “Oh my God, I think it’s another earthquake.” And, “Everything is shaking.” PAUSE. “It’s still going.” PAUSE. “It’s still going. Everything is really shaking. What do I do?” PAUSE. “Should I go outside? How long should I wait before I go outside?” PAUSE. “Is it over? I can’t tell if the shaking now is the earthquake or just me.” It took me a good hour and something to relax enough to fall back asleep.

That was the biggest and longest earthquake I’ve felt since arriving in Japan. According to the JMA, it was a 6.7, but the epicenter was well off the coast of Ibaraki, the prefecture to the east of Gunma.

And now, having said all that, I can’t even begin to imagine the terror that the poor people in Sichuan are experiencing now. So many people dead. So many missing. And still, the aftershocks continue.

What do you do when the very ground that holds you up is the source of the destruction around you? Where do you go? How do you hide from it?

I could spend a lifetime here in this part of the world, and still never get used to the earthquakes. I miss my home on the stable Canadian Shield.

Cheezucakey

Maybe not magic words, but certainly mystery words. Delicious mystery words.

I’m not sure when it started, Caitlin swears it was mid November, but with some regularity the word “cheesecake” seemed to turn up often in our cooking class.

“Nanni nanni nanni nanni cheezucakey nanni nanni nanni…”

Nanni being the Japanese equivalent, it seems, for “blah,” or blank, or something.

Huh?

At first, we thought it might be some information about an upcoming recipe we would tackle in class. Something like, “Next week, we will be making cheesecake, so please attend.” But with weekly mentions, and no sign of such a dairy dessert, our hopes dampened.

And then, it started coming up in overheard conversations with other students. Perhaps a comparison? “You bake it, just like you would a cheesecake.” Or maybe, “This is easy. It’s not as if we’re making cheesecake.” I'm just guessing here, of course.

The frustration grew. Not knowing much Japanese, people sometimes tend to sound like Charlie Brown’s teachers. “Wah waw wah waw wah waw wah waw...” And then CHEESECAKE! Words I know. But only the words. No cheese, and no cake to be made or eaten. Week after week.

Well finally, after months of name dropping, guess what we made last night? Yes, cheesecake! Cheesecake with peaches and pears and brandy. The thing is sitting in my fridge right now. Only now, after all the suspense and buildup, can it taste half as good at the cheezucakey I’ve been dreaming about all these months? Only one way to find out.

On Ramen

Now that I can read some Japanese, I've discovered something.  

There are a heck of a lot of ramen shops in this country.

Japanese plumbing sucks... but it doesn’t drain very well

Warning: this post isn't for the squeamish. If you're the kind of person who can't even scoop the gunk out of the stopper in your kitchen sink, I suggest you stop reading now.

Still there? Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you.

This past Sunday I discovered a whole new world.  A multi-coloured world... of mould.  Yes, mould.  Let's see, we had grey, greenish-grey, blue, black, blue-black, orange, pink, and -- get ready for it -- a gooey, putrid white the likes of which I have never seen before. 

Where was this kaleidoscope land? In my bathroom; the drains mostly.

Before I go on, I should say that I am not a messy or dirty person. I keep my apartment tidier than most, and I clean regularly. It's just that I can't keep up with the plumbing here. In fact, it is quite possibly the one thing I truly HATE about my home in Japan.

I am used to certain things in a drain. I am used to metal pipes. I am used to airlocks and actual drainage. I am not used to plastic pipes with interlocking pieces that come apart and provide little nooks for things to grow. I am not used to constant pools of water that keep things wet and moist and collect scum just under where I stand to brush my teeth everyday.  I am not used to coming home from a holiday and smelling strange stinks because things have grown due to a lack of running water.  Appetizing, huh?

I spent at least two hours just cleaning the drains in my bathroom this weekend.  There are three.  The sink and the tub both connect to a larger one in the middle of the floor.  

The tub drain was the easiest to take care of. I keep a filter on it to prevent hair from going down, so it just needed a good scrub.  There was some mould inside, but it was all reachable with my sponge.  

The sink drain was horrible.  I removed the little metal filter with my fingers, only to discover a horrid, white slime.  It was inside the drain, coating two strange holes on the sides, just before the main pipe. It was almost a centimetre thick in some parts, smelly and it covered some more familiar blue-black stuff underneath. I had to scoop it out with my sponge. Gag!

The main drain was horrendous. I could see the black stuff around the top and lifted out the top cover to give it a good scrub, as I normally do. I was tipped off just days earlier to the fact that the drain could actually be taken apart even further and so after some investigating, I found that I could twist and lift the inner cylinder out. I was almost sorry I did. Inside, was the pool of never draining water full of grey sludge, and hair, and other things best left unidentified. The exterior of the cylinder was covered in some flaky grey stuff I could chip off. All of the pieces were given a good soak and scrub.  Anything that looked like it could be scooped out was, and tossed in a garbage bag.  I threw in several drain cleaning tablets and prayed.  

My bathroom is sparkling clean now.  But only for a few minutes, I'm sure.  

Strawberry Fields Forever

Ever have strawberries for lunch?  And no, I don't mean a few on the side, or added to a salad, or even baked in a pie. I mean just strawberries. Plump and juicy, plucked fresh. And, all you can eat.

Apparently, it's a thing in Japan.  People go "strawberry picking" here. But they don't really mean picking. They mean eating, devouring, stuffing-your-face-to-the-point-of-nearly-vomiting.

Okay, I may be making it sound bad.  It's not.  It's lots of strange and confusing fun.  Basically, you pay a flat fee (prices differ depending on the time of year), and you have 30 minutes to wander around a greenhouse and eat as many berries as you possibly can.  I managed about 36 -- it's a rough number because I was laughing so hard, I kept forgetting to count.

Number one was so juicy and sweet. Amazing! Two to 17 were average, some sweeter than others, but all generally good. 18 to 22 were superb! Strawberry 28 was the best I've ever tasted. I thought 31 would be my last, but then the condensed milk arrived and so I had 5 more for dessert.

Kirei Japan

Maybe it's because I came expecting to find beauty that it seems to appear everywhere in Japan. But, it's not always in the most likely places.  Yes, Miyajima, Matsushima and Nikko were pretty, but it is the momentary glimpses that are the most breathtaking.  

A full moon with a misty halo hanging above the school soccer field.  A bright red torii gate just beyond a turn in the road.  White cranes in a green rice field set against the jagged mountains, grey in the distance. Even the cabbages with their outer leaves tied up in librarian-style looking buns  are endearing.

Yesterday, Reina and I were biking to the train station.  "ORANGES!" she yelled as we turned a corner. And there, over a dull, stone wall, hundreds of bright spheres and lush green leaves filled the sky.

My favourite is the persimmons in late fall.  Dark, gnarled trees, looking lifeless after having shed all their leaves, with plump, orange globes hanging from every branch.  

Now, I watch as other knotty trees spring to life.  White, and pink, and fuchsia blossoms like Christmas lights cover every limb and infuse the air with their sweet perfume.   

I can hardly wait to see what tomorrow will bring.

On Japanese Plumbing

Question:  How do you know when the bathroom is overdue for a cleaning?

Answer:  When whatever it is that lives in the drains starts to show its face outside.
Oy, what is that?!?!?!

おしりかじり虫 !

Name: Oshiri Kajiri Mushi
Translation: Bottom Biting Bug
Ocupation: Biting bums

Occupation?  Okay, go with it.  Everyone else here seems to. And really, it is pretty fun stuff.  The bug-eyed guy with the four sharp teeth for chomping on ass seems fairly popular here right now.

I was first compelled to find out more about this creature because of one teacher who sits across for me in the staff room who is constantly singing the first bit of this ditty in a super cutesy voice.  It got me curious.

A friend posted this link weeks ago on Facebook and I had been sharing this video there, but it just didn't feel like enough.  So, here it is for all the folks back home - a taste of what is cool in Japan.  (Well, this and those great green sweatshirts that say, "Passing Fad" on them.)

I will also post a link for a website with some information about the origins of this little monster.  It's a cute story about a husband and wife team and their kitchen encounter.

Check out the PingMag story.

Monkeys!

I recall a deep, philosophical question once posed by a group of musically inclined young lads while pondering the possible ways in which large sums of money could be spent to promote amorous relations. I believe the exact words were, “Haven’t you always wanted a monKEY?”

Hey, who hasn’t? Cute and loveable, almost like mini versions of human beings. Trouble too, mind you, but that’s all part of the fun.

Realistically though, owning a monkey is probably not a good idea for most of us. It’s probably a very, very bad idea. So, the next best thing is socializing with monkeys in a snowy mountaintop setting.

“Where can you do this?” you ask. In Nagano, Japan.

On Saturday, I joined Caitlin, the queen of day trips, and two other friends for a trek to Yudanaka to see wild snow monkey’s at the monkey onsen. It was quite the journey. It was long, and a tad costly too.

Local trains from Ota to Takasaki (with a switch in Isesaki) – 700 yen
Bullet train from Takasaki to Nagano city – 4,410 yen
Local train to Yudanaka – 1,230 yen
Bus to Monkey Park – 250 yen

That’s 6,590 yen one way, or almost $64 Canadian. But hey, how else can you hang out with monkeys? And the ticket in to the Jigokudani (Monkey) Park was only 500 yen.

The truth is, I am not the best candidate for such an adventure. I am slightly afraid of most animals, including my cat some of the time. I freaked out for about 3 weeks this past July after Noah made me hand-feed a squirrel that scratched me.

But the monkeys were amazing! Even spotting them in the distance was a thrill. These lucky little monkeys managed a long time ago to take over a natural onsen and spend their winters soaking in hot water and being on display for tourists of all kinds.

I couldn’t believe how close you could get to these little creatures. You could see the wrinkles on their knuckles, their sunburned faces, the pinpoint pupils in their yellow eyes. And teeth. Despite all my attempts to stay safe, I managed to provoke an aggressive little guy into snarls and a wide-mouthed display of his chompers. I escaped unscathed. (Well, except for the giant bruise on my backside from the fall I took on the icy path back to the bus stop.)

You’re not allowed to actually reach out and touch the monkeys but they are allowed to touch people. Every once in a while a baby would poke a tourist or even leap up and latch on hoping for a bite of button or some other snack-like accessory. My friends handled this well. I don’t know that I would have.

http://www.jigokudani-yaenkoen.co.jp/livecam/monkey/index.htm - This link should take you to a live camera of the monkey onsen.

Here are some more pictures of this winter adventure.

On Daikon

How do you know when this root is ready to be harvested and devoured? These veggies seem to communicate in not so subtle ways that they’ve had it with their soiled home.

And, if you leave them long enough, your daikon might just get up and walk away.

A pain in the mouth

Ah, relief, mixed with confusion, mixed with fatigue.

I finally made it all the way to Takasaki yesterday to see the dentist. I was up at a good hour, rode my bike in the sunshine and didn’t get lost on my walk from the station to her office.

The dentist was friendly, professional and quick. Cheap too. It was less than my last appointment.

On arrival, I explained the cracked tooth situation and how the filling came out, etc. and relayed the advice of my dentist. What was strange is the fact that she seemed reluctant to do anything. I had to tell her several times that it hurts when I eat before she decided to fill something with the recommended filler. I found this odd because my dentist at home seemed to think a cracked tooth is pretty serious business and warned me to take action in order to avoid a root canal.

The dentist here explained that the crack was very small and on the corner of my tooth… again strange because I was told it was a risk of splitting to the nerve, no just resulting in a little chip off the side.

I was told to be careful. Apparently, without drilling a deeper hole, which she didn’t want to do because she didn’t want to remove any of my enamel, the filling is just, kinda resting there. Hmm, so maybe this is why the last one fell out after all and it had nothing to do with the quality of the work. Could it have been my fault over-doing the flossing?

The other thing is, and it will take a few days for me to decide if it was just my imagination or not, my tooth may have hurt just the tiniest little bit when I was eating breakfast this morning. Just a mini pinch.

But, you know what? Regardless, I have had enough with dentists here. I am giving up. It’s simply too difficult to try and communicate about this. So, whether it’s the actual crack that was looked after, or some wee chip on the side, I don’t care… along as most of me gets home in one piece.

So, I went with friends to Kawagoe today. It’s a city famous for it’s candy. Take that teeth!

Click here for photos from my trip to Kawagoe and other spring outings.

Cracked tooth, broken dream

Okay, no broken dreams here. I made that title up just for effect. And, I thought it was a pretty good segue from my last post. Unfortunately, the bit about the cracked tooth is true.

I have strange teeth. Aside from the fact that they are a little small for my head, I mean. Not a single cavity to date in my adult set of teeth, but they chip and break and do annoying things like that. (And yes, before anyone starts theorizing about the reason for this, I do grind my teeth a little and my dentist at home takes good care of me.)

A few years ago I actually managed to crack a tooth. It was a molar on the lower, left side, one from the back. A quick trip to the dentist and I was patched up as good as almost new and on my way again.

Fast forward to Japan, January 2008.

Ouch!

I’m eating and I have a quick, sharp pain on the left side. Strangely reminiscent of something, but what? It happens when I bite down on things with little grainy bits, like sugar crystals, or salt and pepper, or even curry powder. I find myself peering, with gapping jaw, into mirrors and worrying.

Around the same time my friend Bahia loses a crown and is talking lots about finding a dentist here in Japan. I can’t put this tooth thing out of my mind. I decide to get it checked out.

“I have a problem,” I tell my supervisor one Thursday. I tell him I have a toothache and I need help finding a dentist. I arrange for my friend Reina to join me as my interpreter and my supervisor books me in for an appointment after work on Monday.

My attempts to get lost on the way to the dental clinic are futile and Reina and I arrive five minutes early. We fill out the requisite paperwork and wait. Once in the chair, the dentist checks things out, does a quick x-ray and tells me I have a filling in the tooth I am complaining about. That, and a little redness around the gums, but he figures a quick touchup of the filling and I should be in good shape. A little polishing; a touch of drilling so light, it was more like sanding; and a tiny dab of filing stuff, and I am sent on my way. Thanks to a great insurance policy, it only costs me about $16 out of pocket. To thank Reina, and test out the repair, I treat to sushi.

Later that night I start on my regular bedtime routine. PJs, check; e-mail, check; bathroom, check; brushing, check; drink of water, check; flossing… Flossing doesn’t go so well. See, where the little dental touchup was done, I can’t get the floss in between the teeth.

Just… a… little… pushing… and… THERE!

I get the floss in and struggle to get it back out. And, when it finally does come out, it brings white stuff out with it. Meh, it could just be some residue that got packed in there. No worries. The next day I inform my supervisor that everything is great in the tooth department.

Ouch!

Oh god, the pain is back. I am embarrassed. I don’t want to go back to my supervisor for help, or bother Reina again because she’s very busy. Maybe it’s all in my head.

Ouch!

Nope, it’s real. I tell my parents about the problem and ask them to check with my dentist at home to confirm about the location of this old, cracked tooth. My memory is fuzzy and I want to be sure I’m not imagining things. Sure enough, it’s the cracked molar from years ago. This isn’t good. And, I manage to worry my parents sufficiently enough that they decide to mail me a small tube of toothpaste from home that arrives at school in an envelope filled with bubble wrap and oozy, gooey toothpaste. My desk smells minty fresh now.

Tomorrow will be attempt number two. I’ve decided to try Bahia’s English speaking dentist in Takasaki. I am going armed with better knowledge of what the problem actually is this time, and some treatment recommendations from my favourite dentist back home. I am hopping on the train and devoting an entire Saturday to looking after this annoying tooth.

Oh, and did I mention I am slightly afraid of visiting dentists, particularly new ones? That’s why I am still up at 2:00 writing about this rather than sleeping. And, I’m pondering… Is the “Fluoriguard” in my made-for-Japan Colgate anything like real fluoride?

Japan Odelia VS. Ottawa Odelia

I remember going on an organized trip to Israel and feeling bullied into choosing one identity over another. “What are you first?” was the question we were asked to answer. “Human,” I said. I am a woman, a Canadian, a Jew, a journalist, a teacher (for now), a loving partner, a daughter, a sister, a friend… etc. Yes, it is true that each one of us has a variety of identities and, sometimes even, different qualities or traits to go with each. Sometimes our identities are based on our ancestry, our politics, or our relationships with others. They can also be based on geographic location.

When Noah was here in Japan, he pointed out how much he liked “Japan Odelia”: How much positive energy I have, assertiveness, willingness to explore, and even a newfound ability to ride a bicycle. Yes, I like me here too.

“Ottawa Odelia” is very different. “Please,” he said. “Can it be Japan Odelia who comes back to Ottawa?”

I don’t like Ottawa Odelia. In Ottawa, I am isolated, lonely, dependent, confused, stressed, incompetent, bored, etc. All of this makes me depressed and angry, which in turn makes me mean and cranky, which results in further isolation, and therefore more loneliness, confusion, stress, incompetence, boredom, etc. Get the picture? Yeah. It’s cost me dearly. And, despite this, I am pretty much thinking about returning there and possibly staying on more permanently – oh, the things we do for love.

But, I don’t like who I am there for the reasons stated above. And, although I am trying not to be, I am sad about the fact that I gave up so much to go there. It was totally willingly, mind you. But in the process of moving, I left behind my family, my work, my friends, my own little radio show, my contacts, my independence, and more. Some of these things may be rebuilt over time, but others are gone for good.

I keep trying to think of ways to make the situation in Ottawa better. What do I need to do or find in order to be happy? How can I make this poison in my heart into medicine? I was hoping to find the answers in Japan. If anything, this experience has made it that much clearer to me that Ottawa doesn’t feel like my home. The thought of returning there is depressing. And, I still don’t have the answers I was looking for.

So now, I am thinking about how I might be able to buy more time. I am thinking it might involve drastic change and breaking my own heart by giving up on something I have dreamed about since I was a child.

I’ve been exploring some other options and invitations. These opportunities might mean I wouldn’t have to return to my boring life in Ottawa, just yet or for long. These opportunities might lead to more travel and chances to live aboard. But I don’t know if that is realistic, responsible or even possible. I must make choices.

One opportunity is far more exciting to others than it is to me. It’s an opportunity I am 100 per cent unsure about. It’s an opportunity that would cost me money. The funny thing is, even though I am far less sure about wanting this than I was about coming to Japan, I know it comes with status and so even if I would be biding my time with this option, few would dare criticize me for doing so. It promises safety, if not happiness.

And Japan Odelia, while she has a lot to share with and teach Ottawa Odelia, exists only in Japan.

♥ It’s Valentine’s Day! ♥

You know, I thought I would be miserable and sad today, all alone and with Noah on the other side of the world. But, I discovered something. Teachers have it best on Valentine’s Day. Especially here in Japan where the gift of choice is chocolate, homemade if you’ve got it. (Can you tell I’m on a bit of a sugar high?)

I managed quite the haul too: four bundles of homemade sweets, one chocolate square, three random tastings of other treats in the halls and 12 Valentine’s Day cards.

Here’s what the students wrote to me:

- HAPPY VALENTINE!! Thank you for your English lesson. Buy the way, Do you like chocolate? I love chocolate and like cooking sweets. I made chocolate for Valentine’s day yesterday. It is very delicious!! So I’m very happy now.

- Happy Valentine’s Day – Your secret Admirer

- Happy Valentine’s Day! I love you ♥ Let’s have tea time again! Bye

- Happy Valentine’s Day! You are very funny. Please remember Japanese! I study English, too!

- Happy Valentine’s Day! Give me chocolate!

- Happy Valentine’s Day! My walth is meeting you. My feel to you is between like and love.

- Roses are red, and violets are blue. chocolate is sweet but not as sweet as you ♥

- Happy Valentine’s Day!! You are special teacher for me! I want to know more about you.

- Happy Valentine’s Day! I like your English class very much. I’m enjoying them. I hope to see more of you.

- Happy Valentine’s Day! I’m very pleasure to meet you. I respect you. I hope to see more of you.

- Happy Valentine’s Day! You are special to me because you are great teacher. I want to talk in English with you. But I can’t speak English well. So, I will study hard two grade. and I will talk happily with you.

- Happy Valentine’s Day! B.T.F. you are special to me because your’s English class is fun. Class on Feburuary 12 is very fun.

(B.T.F. stands for “Best Teacher Forever.” I taught them B.F.F. for their cards.)

To be fair, my card count is probably partly due to the fact that the cards were all made in my classes, as part of a lesson on the holiday. Valentines aren’t popular here. (For some reason, I got it into my head that it would be fun – fun? – to collect and redistribute hundreds of cards from first and second year students. I seem to recall this being a project the entire student council used to organize when I was a kid. Yeah, I’m a little crazy.)

But still, I enjoyed it. And, it’s so nice to be loved!

Yuki Matsuri

I am cold. I am FREEZING. I am sitting on the floor, wrapped in a blanket, typing and shivering. The space heater is about as close as it can be without my hair catching fire and I still can’t seem to warm up. And, while most of me is just plain cold, my right hand is an actual block of ice. Oh, and I am at home in Ota, central Japan. I am here and I am dreaming of the warmth of northern Sapporo.

Sapporo was wonderful! Last weekend, I met up with my friend Sonia and another ALT from her town for the famous, annual Yuki Matsuri (snow festival) in the prefecture of Hokkaido.

I am going to pause my story here for a moment to apologize. I would like to say sorry to all of the ALTs I said were crazy for requesting a northern placement. After seeing this part of the country for myself, I now totally understand why you would want to live here. In fact, I think you are so very lucky to be able to experience such a beautiful part of Japan.

Hokkaido is romanticized by the Japanese. My students write fairytale stories about falling in love, marrying and moving to this nature rich part of the country. As for me, I only had a few days to enjoy this winter wonderland.

My plane touched down just outside of Sapporo at about 10 am on Friday morning. It was a bit of a crazy trip that began with a 4 am cycle to the station, followed by a sweltering bus ride through snarled Tokyo traffic, and included a mad dash to make the flight. By 11:15, I was at the tourist office collecting maps and other goodies. And at 12:30, my friend Sonia and Heidi arrived at out downtown hotel.


Immediately, we began touring, and tasting. Our first stop was for a big bowl of delicious and fresh ramen noodles from a famous alleyway lined with closet-sized shops.



Next, we walked to Odori Park to check out the snow and ice sculptures. Some walking, then straight up the TV Tower for a view of the city as large flakes of fluffy snow drifted down. A little more Odori Park. Next, we made our way to the Tokei-dai, a famous clock tower in the heart of Sapporo with a small civic museum.



Back to the hotel for a short rest and to add some clothing layers, and we were off again. Our evening destination was the Sapporo Beer Factory. We were looking for THE Beer Garden restaurant, but we settled for A Beer Garden after discovering a multitude of choices. We downed some premium beer and grilled slices of fresh lamb and vegetables at our table. Each diner was served a bib to keep clean and a large plastic bag to cover our coats and bags with in an attempt to keep everything we own from absorbing the juicy smell of the meat.




A little more Odori Park, a few ice sculptures, and a hot drink and we were ready to call it a night.



The next day was our chance to explore a little further out. In the morning, we took a bus to another part of the festival fun. It was mostly for kids, but we gladly got in on the fun by plunging down an icy inner tube hill and getting lost in a giant snow maze.

Our next destination was the city of Otaru. It was stunning. Otaru is a beautiful, old city with a romantic canal and intriguing brick warehouses, many now occupied by glass artists. After dark, the city put on a breathtaking display of glass and snow lanterns. I had never seen a snow lantern before. It’s just a cylinder of packed snow with a candle stuck in the centre. The orange glow is subtle and warm.


On Sunday morning, we climbed aboard a downtown streetcar and up a mountain via ropeway. Then into a bus that had triangles where round wheels should have been. It gripped and packed the snow as it transported us to the observatory. The view from Mt. Moiwa was spectacular. Blue, blue sky, not a cloud in sight. The snowy mountains to our left, the city reaching out to the distant shore on our right.


A few last sights before it was time to go. We explored the red brick government building with its free museum inside. And, I enjoyed a hot bowl of curry soup before the long journey south to my frosty home in Ota.


My nose is cold. Toes too. Warm thoughts, warm thoughts, warm thoughts…

Take a look at some photos from the trip.

Noah’s Visit

My aunt Julie phoned me today. It’s such a treat to get a phone call or a hand written letter from friends and family back home. Julie is my number one pen pal, but she seldom calls.

“How was Noah’s visit?” she asked. “Why didn’t you write anything about his trip?”

I’m not sure. I’ve been busy, but this past week has been good. Have I been a little lazy? Maybe.

I think the truth is that Noah’s visit really feels more like a dream now. It has since he left Ota. It’s hard to recall and articulate dreams. But, here goes.

I am so happy to be in Japan. It’s been a wonderful adventure and one that I wanted to share with Noah. Sure, I write and call and send pictures, but I wanted him to see it, and smell it and taste it for himself.

I also wanted to see Noah. And when I spotted him on the bus from the airport, I was excited, happy, nervous, anxious, eager… And so our adventures in Japan began.

His first day here and we were already off exploring. My kind and generous friends were able to help me borrow a bike and Noah and I rode around the city to some of the more scenic spots. We even found energy to hike up a mountain. Okay it was a small mountain, but still. Oh, and we ran into some of my students, much to their obvious delight.


The next morning, we headed out early and caught the train to Tokyo. It was so much fun to play tourist with Noah. It can be easy to forget the feeling of wonder I had when I first arrived. A visitor helps me to remember. And, it was nice that Noah found a delicious sushi restaurant for us to enjoy.




Our next big outing was to the home of my supervisor’s family for something very traditional, very Japanese, and very tasty. Noah and I were invited to Maruhashi sensei’s in-laws’ to make mochi, sticky rice cakes, for New Year’s. What an honour to be able to participate in a family event like this. There was lots of pounding, rolling, tasting, eating, and more eating.






After the mochi party, Noah and were driven directly to the train station. From there, we headed south and then west by bullet train to the ancient city of Kyoto. The city was magical. Our hotel was not. The owner a little on the disconcerting side as well. He kindly showed us some maps and highlights of the city, but lectured us about the brevity of our stay. The room was cold, drafty and felt kinda dirty – a fact that was more exemplified than hidden by the car air freshener theme in the bathroom. And when I asked for a suggestion about where to eat, I was repeatedly told only the fast food spots near the train station were within my budget. The nerve. Instead, we went to Gion for 6-dollar okonomiyaki.


The next morning, the hotel owner greeted us with a genuine smile and helped us sort out rented bikes and gloves for a day of touring in Kyoto. Everywhere we went people were getting ready for the night’s festivities. We joined in the fun at the Yasaka Shrine. We ate festival food, watched people light ropes to start their own New Year’s fires at home, and squeezed into a long line to experience the ringing of the temple bell by Buddhist monks.


On the first day of the year, we went to the Fushimi Inari Shrine. So did everyone else in Kyoto, it seemed. But it was just beautiful. Rows of orange torii gates wrapped around the mountainside like ribbon and the contrast with the green trees and grey stone cemeteries was astonishing.


That afternoon we headed to Osaka and our seemingly luxurious accommodations, by contrast any way, at the Ramada. Here, we had time to relax, catch up and enjoy a slower pace of travel. We climbed up the city’s castle, enjoyed the energy of America Mura, and devoured seasonal grilled crab legs.


Our culinary explorations didn’t end there. We decided to go to Kobe for…
Kobe beef! And it was absolutely, melt-in-your-mouth delicious. It even made up for the day’s wet weather and confusion about the Earthquake museum. The man at the subway station’s ticket booth was kind enough to give us directions, but he obviously had something he wanted to articulate and couldn’t figure out how to express to a couple of English speakers. As it turned out, the main part of the museum was closed for renovations.


After Kobe and Osaka, we headed to Hiroshima, our final destination. It was modern, beautiful and moving. So many reminders of the death and destruction as well as the ardent hope for peace. On our way back to the hotel the first night, Noah spotted an old European looking building. Too old, he remarked, to have been built after the war. Sure enough, a daytime visit confirmed that this was one of the only buildings in the area to have survived the atomic bomb blast. Inside were millions of paper cranes folded by children from all around the world.


Miyajima Island and her deer entertained us the rest of the day. It was low tide and so we were able to get a close up view of the famous torii gate. The overbearing deer nibbled on our shopping bags, and jackets and tried to steal our onigiri. The grilled oysters made a tasty and satisfying snack for humans like us. Mmmmmm!






Those were the highlights. We made our way back to Tokyo for a brief stay and Noah spent a few days in Ota while I went off to work.

Noah came to class with me one morning. The students were so excited to meet him. There was screaming and laughing. Several came running for handshakes and personal introductions. You would think they were meeting a rock star.


The visit was too short. And, all too soon, it was January 11th and time for Noah to head home. That morning, I was the one who had to say goodbye and leave first. I had lessons at my visit school. Noah took a cab to the train station where the airport shuttle bus picked him up. And just like that, he was gone. Sort of.

Noah’s flight to Canada was cancelled that night. He was given vouchers for a hotel room and meals at the Hilton in Narita. For another 12 hours Noah was in Japan, stuck out by the airport, a three-hour journey from my home. It was excruciating to think that he was so close and yet so far.

Now, Noah is on the other side of the earth. And, every Friday when I get on the bus to my visit school, I have this terrible feeling as if I’ve left something important at home.

Album One

Album Two