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.
Monday, June 9, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
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.
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!
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.
Sunday, June 1, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, May 26, 2008
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.
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.
Monday, May 19, 2008
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.
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.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
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.
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.
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