Quick update: I'll be in Philadelphia from Dec. 23rd in the evening until Dec. 29th in the morning.
If the sudden urge to ask me a riddle or have me ask you one should occur, send me an email and I'll email you the phone number of where I'll be staying. Of course, I'll have several riddles prepared, so feel free to call several times.
Happy Jolly Holidays
This will be a short but much needed break from life here, currently, in Japan.
P.S. Aloe yogurt, as the container reads, is quite a yummy 'moisture desert'.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Who is This Insanely Talented Writer???
Remind me never to read someone's blog who is insanely more talented at writing than I am.
I tend to view writing as a way to communicate events, facts, or interesting stories to myself, for reflection, or to others, for sharing and maintaining connections. I like punctuation. I like grammar and the feel of a well-written sentence. I don't find much satisfaction in stream-of-consciousness writing. I mostly fail to comprehend the purpose of recording ephemeral emotions and confessing passing passions. It's easy to convince myself that writing of this kind is pointless self-indulgence. Then... I read someone's blog who knows how to do it right, and my logic instantly falls away.
Perhaps it is because of my isolation here that my blog has taken such a impersonal, almost formal tone. I just think I ought to relax it a little. Herein lies the problem: when am I ever relaxed in Japan?
I went to the hot springs again last night to relieve some tension from my tight shoulders after another long day in school. I sat in the classroom-sized, steaming hottub, while five Japanese ladies shot glances at me, casually chatting with one another. Not one said a word to me the entire time. Not one responded to my smile, my 'konbanwa'('good evening').
People tend to lean towards one extreme. Usually, it's the children who stare, until I wave to them and they realize I'm alive and human. They sometimes wave back, but mostly they just look away, their curious brains searching for the next oddity. The adults, in general, always notice me, but always ignore me. This leads to me feeling quite isolated nearly every time I go out by myself whether I'm at the grocery store, the mall, a restaurant, etc. I blame myself for this; I rather blindly entered a country without knowing the language and took up residence, actually requested residence, in the suburbs of a relatively unknown city on a relatively unknown island. I brought isolation upon myself, big time. However, I blame the Japanese too. Many of such people present themselves to be supremely sensitive to the needs of others, yet they push away my needs with a cold heart.
My solution to the present challenge is to continue to breathe and to recall the wonder of being alive. My solution is also to be proud that I am here, and that I am different. I am normal in many places, but I am not normal here in Japan. I happily sign autographs after every elementary school class. Amazingly enough, I can use chopsticks proficiently. I make sure that I eat very openly, so everyone can notice and pay me a compliment on my skills. I laugh wholeheartedly when, while giving my 52nd self-introduction class, the students, for the 52nd time, mock my pronunciation of the word 'Colorado' and giggle when I tell them the names of my family members, including Jason(the one with the hockey mask) and Rebecca(which sounds like the word 'silly' in Japanese). I am different, and because I'm American, that makes me special. Because I'm in Japan, that makes me an undeniable distraction.The other solution is to think of my job, selling English to Japanese kids, and of course, the kids themselves, who make life in school bareable and humorous.
Ah, forget the above reminder. We all need a little dose of inspiration from time to time, and we can all be insane in our own little way. ; )
I tend to view writing as a way to communicate events, facts, or interesting stories to myself, for reflection, or to others, for sharing and maintaining connections. I like punctuation. I like grammar and the feel of a well-written sentence. I don't find much satisfaction in stream-of-consciousness writing. I mostly fail to comprehend the purpose of recording ephemeral emotions and confessing passing passions. It's easy to convince myself that writing of this kind is pointless self-indulgence. Then... I read someone's blog who knows how to do it right, and my logic instantly falls away.
Perhaps it is because of my isolation here that my blog has taken such a impersonal, almost formal tone. I just think I ought to relax it a little. Herein lies the problem: when am I ever relaxed in Japan?
I went to the hot springs again last night to relieve some tension from my tight shoulders after another long day in school. I sat in the classroom-sized, steaming hottub, while five Japanese ladies shot glances at me, casually chatting with one another. Not one said a word to me the entire time. Not one responded to my smile, my 'konbanwa'('good evening').
People tend to lean towards one extreme. Usually, it's the children who stare, until I wave to them and they realize I'm alive and human. They sometimes wave back, but mostly they just look away, their curious brains searching for the next oddity. The adults, in general, always notice me, but always ignore me. This leads to me feeling quite isolated nearly every time I go out by myself whether I'm at the grocery store, the mall, a restaurant, etc. I blame myself for this; I rather blindly entered a country without knowing the language and took up residence, actually requested residence, in the suburbs of a relatively unknown city on a relatively unknown island. I brought isolation upon myself, big time. However, I blame the Japanese too. Many of such people present themselves to be supremely sensitive to the needs of others, yet they push away my needs with a cold heart.
My solution to the present challenge is to continue to breathe and to recall the wonder of being alive. My solution is also to be proud that I am here, and that I am different. I am normal in many places, but I am not normal here in Japan. I happily sign autographs after every elementary school class. Amazingly enough, I can use chopsticks proficiently. I make sure that I eat very openly, so everyone can notice and pay me a compliment on my skills. I laugh wholeheartedly when, while giving my 52nd self-introduction class, the students, for the 52nd time, mock my pronunciation of the word 'Colorado' and giggle when I tell them the names of my family members, including Jason(the one with the hockey mask) and Rebecca(which sounds like the word 'silly' in Japanese). I am different, and because I'm American, that makes me special. Because I'm in Japan, that makes me an undeniable distraction.The other solution is to think of my job, selling English to Japanese kids, and of course, the kids themselves, who make life in school bareable and humorous.
Ah, forget the above reminder. We all need a little dose of inspiration from time to time, and we can all be insane in our own little way. ; )
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
Ode to Sashimi
Picture the scene: Fourteen hundred wide eyes stare at a lit stage, eagerly watching as the conductor lifts his baton. One, two... da, da da di di da da di di! The sound of timpani, brass and woodwinds thunder through the hall, proclaiming the commencement of Beethoven's final masterpiece. A chorus of nearly two hundred heads looks back at the crowd. Both the chorus and the crowd are anxiously awaiting the moment when the sounds of the heavenly Ode to Joy will fill the hall with beauty and light.
Now picture the orchestra: half students at Heisei Music Conservatory, half hired professionals, a handful of old-timers who return every year, and me. A... foreign face. The only foreign face--except for the conductor. This man, Renike, a German-born Japan resident for over twenty years, was remarkable. Not only did he bring Beethoven's spirit out of all of us through his inspiration, but he managed to convey his wishes at rehearsal through a mix of Japanese, German and English.
So how on earth did I get a gig like this one? Tsunoda Sensei is the answer. Haven't I mentioned that Japan is about connections? Maybe that's another blog waiting to happen, but, Tsunoda Sensei is one of the few old-timers who was asked back to play. He put in his good word for me and got me in. Into the first violin section, that is!
We had three rehearsals, two of which were during school hours, so I had to take some vacation time. I ended up getting paid about $100(against my contract, but I didn't know about the $ beforehand, I swear!!), so it didn't really matter that I took off. Rehearsal lasted three hours, which were put to good use, I'd say. Part of the time, we rehearsed a bassoon concerto by Weber, which was utterly Mozartian in my opinion(which means I like to listen to it, but not to play it). The rest of the time, I sat at my own stand in the back of the section trying desperately to get the comments from the concertmaster passed back to me. So many of the people I've met are terribly, horribly shy, to the point where no one will even look at me for fear I might talk to them. I had hoped to meet a couple people and maybe form some of my own musical connections in the area, as it's been a difficult task from the start, but no one would talk, even in Japanese!
Yet, I am not writing to show any discouragement, I am mainly writing because of food.
I want to write about the food Tsunoda Sensei and I ate after the concert.
Tsunoda Sensei, as I once mentioned, is a wealthy man. He runs a chiropractic business from his home, is the only Chinese herbalist I've heard of on Kyushu, and maintains a small concert hall in his house. He took me out for sashimi(raw fish/shellfish) after our hard day's work at the concert hall.
The sashimi place was one block from his house, in my hometown Arao. It was the tiniest hole-in-the wall of a restaurant, but looks were certainly deceiving in this case. My friend Steve, whom I traveled to Kyoto with, has a fine appreciation for all things sushi/sashimi. I wished I'd known of this place when he was here. We're not talking salmon and tuna, these fish and shellfish were from my area, fresh as can be, killed and cut up as we waited.
---I wanted to look up all the translations online, but I've tried and have come up with nothing helpful. I believe that many of the food items were rare or delicacies, so I will just do my best to describe them---
(I will list the Japanese in katakanized romaji for those who understand it and wish to correct my mistakes--please do. Also, everything is raw unless otherwise mentioned :) )
Starters: Kairagi-Shellfish, served on Amakusa wakame(local seaweed):
Kaibashira-Looked like a small conch(couldn't identify the shell), hammered open, scooped out of the shell, and thinly sliced. Colorful black and brown edges with a pink flesh.
Bira-Several small clams
Shoyu mameyariika-tiny squid soaked in soy sauce, mirin, and sake for 3 days(yuck-the eyeballs were not of a pleasant texture)
Another round of sashimi:
Aka ebi-Red shrimp, striped, very mushy
Tora fugu-The dreaded blowfish. The chef showed me his license as he served this specialty item. It is illegal to serve blowfish without a license because several parts of the fish are poisonous if swallowed. I freaked out with pleasure when he told me what it was, and I ate it right away. It's flavor was nondescript, like any mild whitefish sashimi I've had.
Haze-Small, whole, white fish, lightly fried
Iwashi dango-Dark brown fish balls, with onion and other vegetables, resembled my memories of liver
Tempura(batter-fried items) arrived:
Kuchizoko-Another tasty white fish
Konyaku-Purple gelatinous squares, rarely made tempura-style
Carrots
Haze-White fish
More sashimi and other things:
Hirame--White fish sandwiched in kombu seaweed for 2 days. Thoroughly consisent and pleasant texture.
Takuwa Tsukemono, ori-Two varieties of wild pickles
Ariake nori-local seaweed-Dark brown, nearly black. Resembled prunes in texture, flavor and color, all except for the seaweed aftertaste. Hmm.
Sukeami shiozuke-Teeny little shrimp, so bitter and salty they were nearly inedible. I did my best ;)
Kapo marunishi-Another shellfish, resembled fleshy, pink cheeks.
Special tastes:
One thirty-year old umeboshi-Plum soaked in wine/sake. So flavorful and bitter, my whole being became 'plum' for a moment. The taste lingered for several minutes. Not unpleasant, but fully encompassing the taste buds. A real treasure.
One thirty-year old umeboshi geokyoso-The plum's seed, removed from the exterior shell. Supposedly possesses special healing powers. It tasted good(shoulders shrug).
The chef's homemade 16 year-old shochu-whisky. Quite delicate, for whisky.
The chef's homemade 6 year-old umeboshi sake-plum wine. Yum yum yum.
Finishing course:
Rice
Daigojiru-Miso soup with coin-shaped dumplings inside. This miso had a texture like corn chowder, contained carrots, sweet potato, winter squash, and onions. The chef said that the recipe had been in the family for centuries. He learned it from his grandmother. He said that she'd served it to samurai. It was by far one of the tastiest foods I've had in Japan, if not in my entire life. It was a great way to finish a stunning meal.
I left out all the tasting sauces, but I think my point's been made about the amazing and unusual quality of this meal. It was obvious that the chef hadn't encountered a customer so enticed by his dishes in a long time. I believe this is why he attempted to create a meal beyond regular extravagance. (Truly, I believe it was the look on my face when he mentioned the blowfish. He knew I'd be interested to try anything after that.)
I ate so much that I had a hard time sleeping. At 3:30AM, I was wide awake. I called my mom and also bought a plane ticket home to Philly for the holidays. Then I read for an hour.
Ah, Japan.
Now picture the orchestra: half students at Heisei Music Conservatory, half hired professionals, a handful of old-timers who return every year, and me. A... foreign face. The only foreign face--except for the conductor. This man, Renike, a German-born Japan resident for over twenty years, was remarkable. Not only did he bring Beethoven's spirit out of all of us through his inspiration, but he managed to convey his wishes at rehearsal through a mix of Japanese, German and English.
So how on earth did I get a gig like this one? Tsunoda Sensei is the answer. Haven't I mentioned that Japan is about connections? Maybe that's another blog waiting to happen, but, Tsunoda Sensei is one of the few old-timers who was asked back to play. He put in his good word for me and got me in. Into the first violin section, that is!
We had three rehearsals, two of which were during school hours, so I had to take some vacation time. I ended up getting paid about $100(against my contract, but I didn't know about the $ beforehand, I swear!!), so it didn't really matter that I took off. Rehearsal lasted three hours, which were put to good use, I'd say. Part of the time, we rehearsed a bassoon concerto by Weber, which was utterly Mozartian in my opinion(which means I like to listen to it, but not to play it). The rest of the time, I sat at my own stand in the back of the section trying desperately to get the comments from the concertmaster passed back to me. So many of the people I've met are terribly, horribly shy, to the point where no one will even look at me for fear I might talk to them. I had hoped to meet a couple people and maybe form some of my own musical connections in the area, as it's been a difficult task from the start, but no one would talk, even in Japanese!
Yet, I am not writing to show any discouragement, I am mainly writing because of food.
I want to write about the food Tsunoda Sensei and I ate after the concert.
Tsunoda Sensei, as I once mentioned, is a wealthy man. He runs a chiropractic business from his home, is the only Chinese herbalist I've heard of on Kyushu, and maintains a small concert hall in his house. He took me out for sashimi(raw fish/shellfish) after our hard day's work at the concert hall.
The sashimi place was one block from his house, in my hometown Arao. It was the tiniest hole-in-the wall of a restaurant, but looks were certainly deceiving in this case. My friend Steve, whom I traveled to Kyoto with, has a fine appreciation for all things sushi/sashimi. I wished I'd known of this place when he was here. We're not talking salmon and tuna, these fish and shellfish were from my area, fresh as can be, killed and cut up as we waited.
---I wanted to look up all the translations online, but I've tried and have come up with nothing helpful. I believe that many of the food items were rare or delicacies, so I will just do my best to describe them---
(I will list the Japanese in katakanized romaji for those who understand it and wish to correct my mistakes--please do. Also, everything is raw unless otherwise mentioned :) )
Starters: Kairagi-Shellfish, served on Amakusa wakame(local seaweed):
Kaibashira-Looked like a small conch(couldn't identify the shell), hammered open, scooped out of the shell, and thinly sliced. Colorful black and brown edges with a pink flesh.
Bira-Several small clams
Shoyu mameyariika-tiny squid soaked in soy sauce, mirin, and sake for 3 days(yuck-the eyeballs were not of a pleasant texture)
Another round of sashimi:
Aka ebi-Red shrimp, striped, very mushy
Tora fugu-The dreaded blowfish. The chef showed me his license as he served this specialty item. It is illegal to serve blowfish without a license because several parts of the fish are poisonous if swallowed. I freaked out with pleasure when he told me what it was, and I ate it right away. It's flavor was nondescript, like any mild whitefish sashimi I've had.
Haze-Small, whole, white fish, lightly fried
Iwashi dango-Dark brown fish balls, with onion and other vegetables, resembled my memories of liver
Tempura(batter-fried items) arrived:
Kuchizoko-Another tasty white fish
Konyaku-Purple gelatinous squares, rarely made tempura-style
Carrots
Haze-White fish
More sashimi and other things:
Hirame--White fish sandwiched in kombu seaweed for 2 days. Thoroughly consisent and pleasant texture.
Takuwa Tsukemono, ori-Two varieties of wild pickles
Ariake nori-local seaweed-Dark brown, nearly black. Resembled prunes in texture, flavor and color, all except for the seaweed aftertaste. Hmm.
Sukeami shiozuke-Teeny little shrimp, so bitter and salty they were nearly inedible. I did my best ;)
Kapo marunishi-Another shellfish, resembled fleshy, pink cheeks.
Special tastes:
One thirty-year old umeboshi-Plum soaked in wine/sake. So flavorful and bitter, my whole being became 'plum' for a moment. The taste lingered for several minutes. Not unpleasant, but fully encompassing the taste buds. A real treasure.
One thirty-year old umeboshi geokyoso-The plum's seed, removed from the exterior shell. Supposedly possesses special healing powers. It tasted good(shoulders shrug).
The chef's homemade 16 year-old shochu-whisky. Quite delicate, for whisky.
The chef's homemade 6 year-old umeboshi sake-plum wine. Yum yum yum.
Finishing course:
Rice
Daigojiru-Miso soup with coin-shaped dumplings inside. This miso had a texture like corn chowder, contained carrots, sweet potato, winter squash, and onions. The chef said that the recipe had been in the family for centuries. He learned it from his grandmother. He said that she'd served it to samurai. It was by far one of the tastiest foods I've had in Japan, if not in my entire life. It was a great way to finish a stunning meal.
I left out all the tasting sauces, but I think my point's been made about the amazing and unusual quality of this meal. It was obvious that the chef hadn't encountered a customer so enticed by his dishes in a long time. I believe this is why he attempted to create a meal beyond regular extravagance. (Truly, I believe it was the look on my face when he mentioned the blowfish. He knew I'd be interested to try anything after that.)
I ate so much that I had a hard time sleeping. At 3:30AM, I was wide awake. I called my mom and also bought a plane ticket home to Philly for the holidays. Then I read for an hour.
Ah, Japan.
Wednesday, December 08, 2004
Another Day, Another School
I had to say goodbye to Arao #2 Middle School on Sunday, my last day. It's hard to imagined how attached I'd become to the kids at that school in only three weeks. They had to get a staple remover, superglue 'undue', a hammer and two different sized wrenches to remove them from my sides.
For my goodbye ceremony, the principal stood in front of the body of students and told them how he had wanted to say many things to me in the past several weeks. He continued by saying that he hadn't been able to communicate nearly as much as he would've liked because of his lack of English language ability(and my lack of Japanese language ability, I might add). He then urged the students to learn English as best as they could so that they would never experience similar circumstances. He said he missed his chance. He thanked me for my work, and asked me to come back and visit. I assured him that I would.
I was also asked to make a goodbye speech. The principal handed me the microphone. I began by telling the students that I expected that maybe they were surprised because I hadn't told anyone that it was my last day of classes. I told them it was because I wanted to pretend it wasn't true. I asked them if they could see that English would be useful to all of them in the future, and would be extremely useful to some of the them. I asked them to enjoy their English studies, even if they 'hated English'.
Afterwards, two students came up to the front and, to my surprise, gave a speech in English, saying thank you and goodbye. They presented me with a huge bouquet of roses and lilies. Several of the students had bought them for me. I was asked to speak. In my response, I told them how much I enjoyed being with them, and how lucky they all were to have each other. Finally, I had the opportunity to express gratitude towards the fantastic teachers at the school and the students, who seemed exceptionally bright as a whole. It was quite a satisfying farewell.
After school, after the goodbyes with the teachers, I changed into my gym clothes and joined the tennis team for practice. It was freezing outside. I, who was freezing my butt off, wore a hooded sweatshirt and long pants. The students wore thin, long-sleeved shirts and shorts. Their stamina and resilience had impressed me from the start, but sincerely impressed me on that day. We had a good practice, and I went inside to grab my things.
And finally, I headed into the gym to watch the end of basketball practice. Then, quietly, anonymously, I slipped out. There was no final goodbye.
This morning I was late for my first day and Arao #3 Middle School. You should see the map I use. It's really, really bad. But, I live in a land of no excuses. I commited a terrible sin on my first day, and I noticed that several teachers at my new school gave me quite a cold shoulder all day long. What a great way to start my new life for the next month! I'm just lucky the principal was at a meeting!! ;)
I felt down all day. Very sad, and it was only being with the students that cheered me up a little. Unfortunately, however, I had four more self-intros to give today, and I barely had the energy to go to class, let alone be a cheerleader for English. Bash, this is what my mom calls this 'character-building'. I think it sucks.
For my goodbye ceremony, the principal stood in front of the body of students and told them how he had wanted to say many things to me in the past several weeks. He continued by saying that he hadn't been able to communicate nearly as much as he would've liked because of his lack of English language ability(and my lack of Japanese language ability, I might add). He then urged the students to learn English as best as they could so that they would never experience similar circumstances. He said he missed his chance. He thanked me for my work, and asked me to come back and visit. I assured him that I would.
I was also asked to make a goodbye speech. The principal handed me the microphone. I began by telling the students that I expected that maybe they were surprised because I hadn't told anyone that it was my last day of classes. I told them it was because I wanted to pretend it wasn't true. I asked them if they could see that English would be useful to all of them in the future, and would be extremely useful to some of the them. I asked them to enjoy their English studies, even if they 'hated English'.
Afterwards, two students came up to the front and, to my surprise, gave a speech in English, saying thank you and goodbye. They presented me with a huge bouquet of roses and lilies. Several of the students had bought them for me. I was asked to speak. In my response, I told them how much I enjoyed being with them, and how lucky they all were to have each other. Finally, I had the opportunity to express gratitude towards the fantastic teachers at the school and the students, who seemed exceptionally bright as a whole. It was quite a satisfying farewell.
After school, after the goodbyes with the teachers, I changed into my gym clothes and joined the tennis team for practice. It was freezing outside. I, who was freezing my butt off, wore a hooded sweatshirt and long pants. The students wore thin, long-sleeved shirts and shorts. Their stamina and resilience had impressed me from the start, but sincerely impressed me on that day. We had a good practice, and I went inside to grab my things.
And finally, I headed into the gym to watch the end of basketball practice. Then, quietly, anonymously, I slipped out. There was no final goodbye.
This morning I was late for my first day and Arao #3 Middle School. You should see the map I use. It's really, really bad. But, I live in a land of no excuses. I commited a terrible sin on my first day, and I noticed that several teachers at my new school gave me quite a cold shoulder all day long. What a great way to start my new life for the next month! I'm just lucky the principal was at a meeting!! ;)
I felt down all day. Very sad, and it was only being with the students that cheered me up a little. Unfortunately, however, I had four more self-intros to give today, and I barely had the energy to go to class, let alone be a cheerleader for English. Bash, this is what my mom calls this 'character-building'. I think it sucks.
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