Donning a Kimono

Have you ever worn a kimono? I never had before I went to Japan. And guess what? (I bet you can guess!) It's really hard to put one on! But one day in late June, just before my trip to Osaka and Hiroshima, (These posts are getting out of order, I know. I'm sorry!) my host mom got together with Christine's host mom, and decided that they would dress us in kimonos.

Our friend Caitlin was also dressed, along with another girl from the program, Li, who was lovely but didn't speak much English - she was more comfortable speaking in Japanese than in English, even though she was only a second year student. Anyway, those were the people our host moms decided should come, so we were the four who were all dressed in kimonos.

Now, kimonos are many-layered. And each layer is made up of several different pieces of cloth. All of the first layer of things are white. The white layer includes socks (note the separation of the big toe!), a wrap-skirt, a wrap-shirt, and a white collar-thing that will peek out of your outer layer.

The first picture is of Christine, with her host-mom tying on the crossed collar piece, while she wears only the white layers. Looks like she's already totally covered up, right? Well, that's true. But it doesn't mean she's totally ready to go! After the white layer... (A caveat: only I have ever called it the white layer, as far as I know...)

After the white layer, you put on the colorful outer layer, which is always incredibly beautiful. You may be thinking, "I thought you said this was complicated! There's only two layers?!" But it is complicated. And there are more than two layers. Nonetheless, the second layer you put on is the outer layer. Just bear with me here, please.

My outer layer was purple, see? That's my host mom, aligning it for me, and then for Caitlin. If you'll notice, the white collar-thing shows through just the tiniest bit, and she's wrapping the first of many belts around my waist to keep my kimono closed all the way. At this point, my host dad was allowed in, since we were all decent with our top layer.

But now, do you understand? The third, and most complicated layer, is the BELT layer, otherwise known as the obi. I'm sure you've heard the word obi before. Anyway, there are several different belts and cords that keep the kimono from opening on you at the wrong time. Or any time. Any time would be the wrong time, wouldn't it?

Here is my host mom, tying Caitlin's decorative obi. It's really difficult to do, apparently. So difficult that even though my host mom does this frequently (because she has so many host daughters!) she needed to refer to directions she downloaded off the internet to get her through the whole tying process.

You have to wrap another cloth and a cord around the obi in order to get it to look right both from the front and from the back, and if you untie even one thing the whole structure will fall apart. Luckily, everything's tied pretty securely, so that's not much of a worry. In the next picture, Christine's host mom is tying the extra piece of cloth around her obi.

When all of that has been done, it turns out looking like this! Adorable! Right? There are my proud host parents in the background, admiring my host mom's hard work. Putting all of us in these kimonos, after all, took about an hour and a half, I think. (I can't quite remember, but I know it took awhile!) After we put them on, we were supposed to go outside to the Japanese garden.

But it was raining, and you can't really go outside in a kimono in the rain, so we stayed inside, and took pictures there. Here we all are in front of a pair of hung wedding kimonos displayed on the wall. From left to right, it's Christine's host mom Kiyomi, Li, me, Caitlin, Christine, and my host mom Junko. After we took this picture, we all went downstairs to take pictures. There, we stood just inside the building (and out of the rain) but close enough that you could kind of see the garden out the windows.

Here I am with my host dad, Toshihiro, posing together.

And that is the story of how I once wore a kimono. I wish I owned that beautiful purple fabric! But then again, since I could never dress myself in it, it would be kind of a waste. Better to just have my host mom do it, whenever she's willing.

Trip Blog Post/Part III: Miyajima!

And now, the final full day of our trip!

We went to Miyajima, an island famous because it's a World Heritage Site. And it's a World Heritage Site because it has a Buddhist gate built, not on the island, but in the water off the coast of the island. I am pretty sure this gate is the only one like it. In the world, I mean. Because, really, who would build a Buddhist gate in the water? Who?

Well, these people. They did it. And then I went to see it.

On this island, as well as that amazing gate, there were a lot of deer. A lot of deer. Who were extremely willing to eat our food. As in, they would nose up to people who were sitting down, and literally try to pluck the food from their hands. Anything was good enough. As in, newspaper was good enough. See the picture. That deer was eating a newspaper. But only, I think, because she couldn't get anything better. Which is surprising - most people think deer are pretty darn adorable! There were people feeding them right and left! People with strollers would be feeding deer and letting their toddlers practically climb on top of the things. Very surprising. Those deer were dirty!


On Miyajima, we took a beautiful gondola ride up the mountain, looked out over the ocean at a lot of tiny islands, and took a picture of ourselves jumping in front of the gate in the ocean. It was a fun and interesting day. Quite relaxing, and warm and beautiful.

(This was a shockingly short post! I guess you should just look at the pictures.)

Trip Blog Post/Part II

Dear neglected blog readers,

Are you still there? I would understand if you were not. Because, let's face it - I'm not in Japan anymore. I am back home. In Seattle. Doing much less than I would be doing if I were still at the forefront of time. However, as far as you readers know, I am still in Hiroshima, learning about World War II. So I've decided to fill you all in on the rest of my trip. Even though I'm no longer there. So... this blog post may be dated August 3rd, but please, let's pretend that it is not. Let's pretend that it's sometime before July 25th, and that I am still in Japan.

So, now I shall tell you all about the wonderful aspects of my trip to Osaka, Hiroshima, and Miyajima with Christine, Wendy, and Caitlin. First of all, there was a lot of wonderful food. In Osaka, there was takoyaki, which is amazing, even though you probably wouldn't expect me to like it. I told you about it in my last post, remember? Octopus balls? Yeah, that doesn't make it sound too great, does it? But look at the picture! That is pure delicious. They only have one bit of octopus in the middle, and and then they have all these little green spices and pink pickled somethings thrown in with the dough. (Can you tell I'm an expert on takoyaki? Once I made them with my family! That was certainly not on my trip to Osaka and Hiroshima, but here is a picture anyway, look just below these lines, because I made them and I feel proud... That is me and my host dad, with our chopsticks and the little takoyaki-making device set up over our hot plate.) In Osaka, we went to what we are pretty sure is a super famous takoyaki shop. We can tell because of the outside of the shop, and how elaborate it is, and because we are pretty sure we were in the place where our teacher told us to go. But then, since there are almost no street names in Japan, it was hard to be sure. Anyway, look at that awesome display hanging above the tiny little place where a single man made takoyaki all night long! Isn't it awesome? Those giant takoyaki? they spin. And the restaurant is so small there's barely room for a staircase leading up to the second floor, where you can sit and eat your takoyaki, if you want to. And we wanted to. Why? Well, because there are absolutely no public spaces in Japan. So if you want to sit down somewhere to eat food, you had better sit down at a restaurant. Because, chances are, you will not find a park. Not even one.

Please don't feel discouraged that there aren't many parks in Japan. Because they make up for it by having a lot of great restaurants. For instance here is an adorable little place we found with the help of the woman at our hostel. We came to this tiny, adorable place, instead of to a place called the "Okonomiyaki Village," which is famous, because we had already seen the village. And it was kind of weird and intimidating. It was four floors full of okonomiyaki restaurants, each floor packed with six or seven different establishments. So you would walk in and everyone would be shouting at you to pick them! Pick them! But how were we supposed to know which okonomiyaki restaurant to choose, when we barely even knew what okonomiyaki is anyway? So we left. (I'm getting to an explanation of okonomiyaki, don't worry!) So we told the woman we wanted to get okonomiyaki, and, after we explained we weren't excited by the prospect of the village (which was also overpriced, as far as I can tell, because it is clearly for tourists...) she sent us to this tiny little shop. It was dramatic at first, because, as you can see, it isn't very big, and they were full. So we just decided to walk over there and see whether we could wait at the restaurant. But when we arrived, everyone was just leaving (or leaving for us? Unclear!) so it all turned out very well. The man on the left, wearing a Hiroshima baseball team t-shirt, made us our okonomiyaki.

Now, these things have been compared to pancakes. And they have been compared to pizza. But in Hiroshima, I don't think either of those descriptions was very accurate. It was just okonomiyaki. Which means, "what you like, grilled." It has lots of cabbage in it (that's what you see grilling there.) and also an egg, usually, and then either udon or yakisoba noodles, depending on what you prefer. There's also okonomiyaki sauce, which is salty and brown and pretty thick. It's hidden in this picture, under a huge pile of green onions, because this is green onion okonomiyaki. But it's delicious, I'm telling you. We ate it our first night in Hiroshima. And then, because it was so delicious, we went back our second night in Hiroshima to have it again. The man in the Carp t-shirt (who was wearing another one the following day, just a different color) laughed at us. But we felt no shame! We were happy!

We found weirder foods in Osaka, when we detoured about an hour out of our way, got pretty lost, and then got back on track again, all to make it to Carrefour, which is basically the French Costco. Which they have in Japan. We went there to find granola, which we were all missing, and we sort of found some. But what we found in addition to that was much better, and pure Japanese. What takes the cake? Probably the Kit Kat bars. Not just any ordinary Kit Kat bar, mind you, but a special flavor. Vinegar. First, I found lemon vinegar. Of course we wanted to buy it. But so many? And if they were disgusting, what would we do with all that? (We were pretty sure they would be disgusting.) But lemon vinegar Kit Kat bars! How could we pass up the opportunity to buy that?! Well, there was only one way. And it was called Apple Vinegar Kit Kat bars. Not in a bag, just in a little box. Because in Japan, almost nothing comes in just one layer of packaging. So what would just be in a little plastic wrapper in the US was in a plastic wrapper and a box in Japan. Anyway, what's important is that we bought it. And on the train from Osaka to Kanazawa, about to be back in school mode, we tried it. And apple vinegar Kit Kat bars were kind of good! Who knew?! Certainly not us. We never saw them again in Japan. Or anyway, I didn't. I can't say for sure that no one else did either. But I never saw them again in Japan. But just that one time, they were pretty delicious. Other things we found at Carrefour are pictured at right. Secret Hi Chew, which didn't have a label on the packaging, so you had to guess what you were eating from a list on the back of the packaging, and star-shaped rice crackers, which had faces on the tiny individual plastic packaging, but not on the cracker itself, and Choco Pie, which are delicious and made in Korea, and bananas which you may have heard of before.

And that is the story of food on our trip around Japan. Stay tuned for tales of the Miyajima gate, spoiled deer, and other adventures outside of Kanazawa in Trip Blog Post/Part III, coming soon.

Trip Blog Post/Serious

My faithful blog readers,

It's finally time to tell you about my trip away from Kanazawa! When was this trip, you ask? Last weekend? Two weeks ago? Well, really... it was in June... I'm sorry! This has been a long time coming! But here we go.

Now, June 25th, a Thursday, was our first of two three-hour final exams. It was very long. But don't worry, because just an hour or so after it was over, I had boarded a bus to Osaka, and I was very happy. Wendy, Caitlin and I rode a double-decker bus for five hours to get there. What is convenient about Japanese buses (although I've never really ridden any in other countries to compare... not for 5 hours anyway) is that they stop every few hours to let you stretch and go to the bathroom. So we were really fine.

And then we were in Osaka! The second biggest city in Japan! And... there was very little to do! We met up with Christine at our hostel, and set out for the "hip" area of Osaka, which we knew how to get to thanks to one of our teachers. There, at about 8:ooPM, we ate takoyaki for dinner. Takoyaki, as you may or may not know, are made of octopus and a flour-y dough. They are about the size of golfballs, and they are delicious! I will take you to eat them in New York, New York friends. Seattle friends, please come visit me!

So we ate takoyaki, and we set out to search for dessert. We searched. And we searched. But everything was CLOSED. At about 9PM on a Thursday night! Why?!? Some big city... We left Osaka, sort of disappointed, Friday morning, and rode the train to Hiroshima.

Hiroshima is, of course, famous for having been destroyed. So this is where my normally light and cheery blog has no choice but to get a bit darker for a post or so.

Hiroshima was beautiful while I was there - no sign, of course, of the 60-year-old history. But of course we went first to the Peace Park, so the invisible damage was on all of our minds. It was sad, to look at the one ruined building preserved in the park, but mostly it was inspiring to finally see the statue of Sadako Sasaki, with her thousands of paper cranes folded all over the world, and the eternal flame dedicated to the dead. You don't turn a nuclear bombing into something positive, but the park calls for peace, adn I didn't feel guilt, but hope, at the determination to look to the future following the travesty of the bomb.

But then we went to the museum.

We went to the free exhibit in the basement first, sort of arbitrarily. It was a single bright, museum-style room, with a large free-standing sign in its center, announcing that the exhibit was a collection of pictures drawn by people who had experienced the bomb, but made many decades later. The museum, this plaque told me, has hundreds of these pictures, voluntarily sent by survivors. Every month, the museum chooses a new theme, and displays 30 or so pictures that fit that theme.

In June, the theme was labor groups - during World War II, labor was at such a premium that middle- and high-schoolers were removed from school to do manual labor. The artists whose drawings were shown in June were all working in Hiroshima when the bomb fell.

Every picture was worse than the last. I passed around the room, feeling like I might faint. I have read about Hiroshima - facts, dates. Pictures of that famous mushroom cloud are barely meaningful anymore. But these were not pictures of the nuclear bomb. These were drawings - memories of the bomb hitting people.

I am having trouble allowing myself to remember the pictures, and their two-to-three sentence descriptions. These people, who drew and described melting skin, naked, charred, bloated children drowning in rivers in which they sought relief, and the bright rain of radiation falling down on their heads, these people were the survivors. These were the ones who had experienced such a small percentage of the damage that they lived to 60 and 70 years old. These were the experiences of the lucky. And all of their pictures were of students, still wearing school uniforms, 12 and 13 and living through a nuclear bomb with not an adult in sight. Not the typical coming of age.

How does one know something like this? How do you remember this and act normally? How do you forget it? I can't figure it out. It is too late for blame - the people who made the decision are long out of power, and I do not expect that it can ever be made again. The survivors are dwindling - this is truly fading into the past.

But I am learning its true horror for the first time - what am I to do with my new information?

I don't really know. But I guess it's always better to know than not to know. Right? Maybe? I don't know! So there we are. I know some things. I don't know other things. I guess I'll just keep thinking.

Host Family!

Dear blog readers,

Today I am tired. I spent 5.5-6 hours listening to speeches today. That is too long. Luckily, tonight I am headed to Disneyland, so I'm feeling hopeful.

But you know what is starting to feel close? My homecoming! It's a little strange. Before coming to Japan, I could think of nothing else. And now I've started to think about after Japan, and it's weird - because it's always a little weird, isn't it, when the future all of a sudden really feels like it's going to happen.

But none of you want to hear about that now, do you? Much better to hear about Japan while I'm here, right? Right. So today? My host family!

Remember? Those guys I live with? Yeah! Today, finally a picture of them!! Yay! Okay, there they are... Cutie, right? They are the ones in the front. The ones giving the thumbs up signals. His name is Toshihiro, but I call him Otousan. Her name is Junko, but I call her Okaasan. Because they are my parents!

I like my host parents a lot. Yay! They love children - they used to run a toy shop, and then at the same time they started a cram school/after-school program. Why don't they have kids, though?! That is the biggest mystery of my life with them. But it's not a big dealk, because they have me, and Air Force brothers, and Laura (who arrived last week). Last night thye told us that they ALWAYS have students, except sometimes in the winter when no one wants to come.

They are so fascinating! But mostly they are just the nicest ever. And really I just wanted to post a picture for you all to see. So, there they are! My parents... (The ones in the back of the picture are Caitlin's parents! Or, her dad and grandma. They're nice too! And they grow fruit - I'm so jealous...)

Food Foible #3 (?)

Yesterday, I ate raw egg for dinner. Well, all right, that’s an exaggeration. I ate other things, too. But everything I ate was coated in raw egg. So, Mom, if I get salmonella, it is partially your fault – you always told me life wasn’t worth living if we couldn’t eat cookie dough, and I figured, if I eat cookie dough, I might as well eat other forms of raw egg. If the Romans are doing it, anyway…

And the Romans (aka my host parents…) were doing it. It was my host father’s birthday! (I didn’t ask how old he was turning.) So we ate sukiyaki. Which is, apparently, a very famous Japanese food. You’ve heard of it, right? Or anyway the song with that name? They asked me about it, which made me feel silly, because I’ve heard that they named a Japanese song after food to make it easier for English-speaking audiences to pronounce. But I’ve never actually heard the song. So that was an interesting dinner conversation.

Anyway, sukiyaki – in the states, we don’t usually do it with the raw egg, now, do we? I’m sure, if you’ve had sukiyaki, you’re familiar with the fashionable tendency to call the cast iron pot you cook it in a “nabe,” which just means pot in Japanese, and with the variety of ingredients bubbling away in the pot – beef, lots of mushrooms, cabbage, etc. My favorite part were these 1-inch diameter brown smushy rounds called “fuu” (and aspirate the f, now please – no real ‘f’s in Japanese, that’s why when my host family first told me about my Air Force brothers, I heard Air Horse, remember?). Yes. “Fuu.” Delicious! Mostly because, as I discovered, they are made of flour – my host mother had to look on the packaging to see what they were made of – no one could remember. So these little dense but fluffy flour-rounds soak up all that delicious soy sauce and salt and vegetable juice that’s hanging out in the nabe, and then they get great-tasting. So I ate a lot of those. And the other things. (Yes, even mushrooms. Yes, even beef…)

BUT, you haven’t forgotten the reason this was weird, have you? Of course not. But even if you have, don’t worry - I’ll give you a little review. It was weird because we had a little extra dish at each of our places, and in it was a raw egg – we whisked it ourselves, with our chopsticks, and then dipped everything we ate into it before we put it in our mouths.

So let’s call this Food Foible #3. It may be #4. It may only be #2 (Food Foible #1 I remember clearly – sashimi + Callie = just a little bit of gagging. But could there have been others? Probably! ) Not because it was gross but because I thought it would be – it was really pretty fine – you barely tasted it. BUT I still felt very aware of the fact that I was eating raw egg.

So, it was weird. Not something I’m bringing back home with me, that’s for sure.

New Month, New Post (About Old Topics...)

Today, July began. (For me, anyway. I love the forefront of time!) This means that summer is really getting going. And that I have only about 4 weeks left in Japan! This, clearly, is pretty scary - I guess I feel like I've been here for awhile, but not really. According to my blog posts, though, I've barely gotten here! I have a lot to catch you guys up on, starting with a miraculous place called "Kagaya."

You guys would ALL love Kagaya. I promise you. I don't know how you would go there, though, because it costs $500 per night. I mean, you could do it. It's actually pretty worth it, if you ever want to splurge. A lot. I don't know how they got us all in!! All of our host families were jealous.

So, now that I've gotten you all excited, let me actually tell you about it... We arrived at Kagaya, which is north of Ishikawa, after a long busride, with many stops at famous sights along the way - we visited a beach, for instance, and stopped at several temples and shrines. (One girl fell into the water - she arrived at Kagaya wet...) (The picture is an illustration of what I do at shrines. No! Not really! I am mostly very respectful! I also like to pretend to be awesome demon/protector/I-don't-know-whats...)

So we were all kind of already tired, it being the afternoon, and we were delighted to have arrived at our hotel. What we were not expecting, though, was the line of over ten kimono-wearing women waiting to bow us into the hotel. They took our bags, which had been tagged with our names so they knew where to took them, and a few of them peeled away to lead us inside. We entered through glass doors, and everyone around us - both the women wearing kimonos, and other hotel personnell - bowed and smiled, repeating "Irasshaimase" over and over again. (This means welcome, or come in, or something like that.)

I felt a bit intimidated - we were all getting the $500 treatment, despite having paid nothing. I felt like a fake! I cannot give a big tip! I thought. What should I do?! Will they hate me after we leave?! This was just panic, though. I know they weren't expecting a tip. They were very kind as they led us into a huge ballroom full of neatly arranged tables, at which we sat, and watched a demonstration of the tea ceremony. This was cool, but we'd already participated, which was cooler, so I wasn't exactly riveted. (Factoid for those of you who are interested, though: Japanese green tea, "matcha" is SO bitter that you have to eat something sweet before you drink it! That's literally what you do at the tea ceremony - eat something as close to pure sugar as you can stomach, and then swallow the tea fast so that it's bearable. Hmmm...)

What was SHOCKING was what happened when we were preparing to leave. Before we had time to walk through the doors, one entire WALL of the room we were in lifted up to allow us to leave! Unnecessary? Yes. But awesome? Also yes. Next, the ceiling parted in the middle to reveal a huge skylight! This is in a two-story tall, room, let me remind you, that could fit 100s of people easily - this was a seriously large vaulted skylight. I'm telling you. It was really cool!

After this, our constant companions - the kimono clad women, slash employees of Kagaya - led us to our rooms. We had to take off our shoes to enter, and when we came back, they had dissappeared, replaced by flip-flops! I was nervous, until someone found the cupboard where they had placed our shoes. That was the last I saw of them until we left the following morning... We wandered through our suite of rooms, this being me and my new acquaintances my three roommates Lindsay, Li, and Ana. We had a beautiful view of the sea, and two low tables in the main room. There was no sign of any beds.

Before we had time to comment on this, our personal kimono-wearing guide returned with another round of tea and sweets. I tried to keep my grimace to myself, and I enjoyed the sweets - a strange purple jelly-thing (Japanese people love jelly, which they call "zerii") with red-bean inside. No sooner had our guide taken away the empty tea things than she returned with another woman, both of whom informed us that they were going to dress us in yukata (light summer kimonos). We, embarrassed, allowed ourselves to be dressed, and smiled awkwardly at each other.

Fully dressed, legs tight together because our yukata didn't let us move them very much, we were led down to an outdoor porch-like area, where they had set up a festival for us! We made cotton candy, received fans and candy, and fished for rubber bouncy balls in a fast-moving stream of water. (This last activity was poorly explained, I apologize. I don't know how to do it better concisely, though. Just invent your own idea of what it was like!)

Next we went into dinner in a huge tatami-mat lined room, where we were served, again, by our good friends the kimono-wearers. We had sashimi. We had yakisoba. We had tempura. We drank tea and juice and water. It was the biggest meal I've ever experienced, and everything was delicious. Partway through, we paused to watch a drum performance. Later, we all got up to MAKE mochi! We used the traditional, incredibly heavy hammer and everything. (There's me! I'm not exactly going to open my own shop, but I succeeded in pounding that rice!)

It was a long meal. We finished at 9 or 10 pm, and after taking a few pictures, (at left, one example of many. New friends, and me, from left to right: Julie, DongHwa, me!, Wendy, and Christine. After leaving dinner, we set out to make use of Kagaya's most famous, and important, amenity - baths! Yes, as Americans, we were not used to sharing a bath with many many other people. I was also really not used to getting into 40C water at all. So it was a steep learning curve. But when we discovered an outdoor, but secluded, bath, we were very happy and comfortable. So I will return to the U.S. able to say that I have been to an "onsen" (Japanese for "hot spring") and that I liked it. Wow.

Next we slept on futons (exciting!) and awoke early for a very large breakfast. A very satisfying one-night stay at the best hotel/resort I will probably ever experience.

And that, my friends, was the story of one beautiful night at Kagaya.

(Today's photos provided by Christine K., because I forgot my flash drive... Thank you Christine!)

So many things that are great

Today I want to tell you about some things I love about Japan. These things can be divided into two rough categories. One will be obvious to everyone who knows me. One will not. But,like all everything, it is impossible to love something entirely. So, I will offer a few less-than-great observations/experiences as counterpoint to my excited stories.

Now. Today’s two topics are… candy! And toilets! An odd juxtaposition, you might say? I agree. And yet, they are united by my love for them. Most of the time…First, our surprising category, toilets. As I first arrived in Japan, and discovered Japanese toilets, I was a little overwhelmed – they are so high-tech! And pretty?! As far as I can tell, a single company, called “Toto” has a monopoly on the toilet market in Japan. But hey, they do it well. The picture to your left is of my toilet at home. Yes, it is a Toto toilet.The brand that I have seen most commonly is called “Warmlet,” like the one pictured here, and it does exactly what it claims to do – it is just sort of warm all the time. It also has a few distinctive features, some distinct to the toilet, some to Japan.

Like, see these toilet slippers? Yeah, those are in my house. And you are supposed to wear them only for the extremely short amount of time you spend physically within the toilet room, which is not a bathroom, since it doesn’t contain anything but the toilet. Also, look at the lever – those two characters? One means “big,” the other means “little.” You can push the lever in either direction to get it to flush. That is some impressive technology.

Also, note the washbasin thing on top – this is an element Ihave yet to figure out. It hasn’t been featured on all the toilets I’ve seen, but if it is, it runs water through the tap when you flush the toilet. Are you supposed to wash your hands there? There’s a towel in my toilet room at home, which made me think this might be true. However, there’s no soap… In fact, MOST public bathrooms in Japan do not feature any kind of soap! Or any, most that I've seen... Which is a small number, of course, but still - a pattern begins to emerge.

As I mentioned, however, I soon discovered that all Japanese toilets are not as wonderful as those I encountered first. Some Japanese toilets, you see, do not follow the western model. These are called, and you will recognize the name, pit toilets.

I don’t really have anything to say about pit toilets. Except that they’re not so cute, and so far I’ve found that the public bathrooms that feature them also always feature exactly one western-style toilet – I think for handicapped use? Anyway, if you are ever in Japan, seek that toilet out.

I am now ready to move onto the more polite section of my posting today, and it will be, as I said above, all about candy. Hooray!

Now, those of you who know me well know that there is nothing in the world that I love more than candy. (That is, within the category of non-animate things…) And you may also know how good the Japanese candy

market is. There is so much variety! So many flavors and types! And all of it is delicious!

Clearly it is dangerous for me to be in this mecca of candy production.So I have had some exciting experiences with candy and sweets in Japan so far. But let's start with the easy stuff. Look at this awesome banana chocolate box! Do you see how it opens? You pull on that handle. There is a handle. Not to mention that it is delicious. We're not talking Fran's here, but we're also talking somewhere around 100Y, or one dollar, so we're doing pretty well, right? Next, I have another exciting announcement for you.

Guess what? Muji sells food! For instance, I bought this likely specimen. Yeah, it's basically like Ritz cracker sandwiches, but instead of peanut butter or weird fake cheese in between the crackers, in keeping with the fact that this is a candy blog, there is strawberry "jelly" in there. It was pretty good, and pretty bad for me. (That's the extremely well-guarded message of this blog - I'm going to come back a less healthy eater...)

The following item I purchased in the hope of having a nice drink to go along with my lunch. I opened it. I took a sip. Nothing came out. I sipped harder. And then it turned out that I had basically just bought a lot of squares of jello in a bag! Aaah! This was stressful, admittedly, but a good experience, because now I can tell all of you about it. Right? But I probably won't buy it again. And, yes, you're right. Probably does mean definitely.

Okay, this next one. You recognize it right? ALL of you do, right? Because it's my FAVORITE FAVORITE candy, and it comes in a BOX here instead of a tube, but no one is surprised that I found it anyway, right?! I thought not. Enough said. Oh. Except, if you didn't get it yet, that's strawberry Gummy Choco. Delicious...

The following dessert is not a candy. But it is awesome. Because it comes from the preeminent Donut chain in Japan, which is called Mister Donuts. And this particular donut, which my friend Caitlin (green shirt, a few pictures down) bought. It is called, since you can't read the Japanese, "Donatsu Baagaa" or, in English, Donut Burger. Yes. That is a donut burger. To the left, you can just see some donuts shaped like french fries. What is going on in the world?! I don't know what it is, but I like it. Mister Donuts is really great. I was working on a group project there, about women in Japan, and we noticed there were all of these Japanese teenagers sitting around. So we interviewed four of them. Also, apparently, Mister Donuts is kind of the place to be after school in Kanazawa. Or one of many places to be. McDonald's seems to be another of them.

And now, as promised, a slightly less fun story about candy in Japan. "Official" Japanese candy, called "wagashi" because "wa" is the prefix the Japanese use to call things theirs, and "kashi" means candy, are not so delicious. I know because I made some. And then I ate some. And then Iwas sad. But they're for a specific purpose - you're supposed to drink them with green tea, which is really bitter, so they have to be overly sweet because you eat it and then right after you drink your tea and then the tea tastes kind of good. It's very interesting, because it works. But still. Wagashi. Not so yummy. The pictures are of one of the candies we made (I think this is Caitlin's?) and of all of us at the table, making them. By all of us I mean Wendy and Caitlin, who are new friends, and Matsui-sensei, who is one of this semester's four 3rd year Japanese teachers. She's very nice.

And now, you all know the story of Japanese candy. And of Japanese toilets. I feel like you are here with me! I love you all. And I promise to bring plenty of gummy choco and exactly 0 wagashi back with me, when the time comes. Yes, yes, that's a promise.

Negligent Blogger...

Dearest friends, I have been an unfaithful correspondent, and for that I feel terrible. Tonight, at home, with my photos, I will prepare an especially exciting blog post, so that all of you are interested in me again after my absence. In the meantime, a little something to remind you I'm still around...

Today is the Story of Callie's Cold. This does not sound like an amusing story, but in retrospect, I chuckle, so I figure it is a good start. On Saturday last, which would have been Friday for all of you poor, sluggish U.S.-time-zoners, I woke up with a sore throat and an inkling that today, my first real weekend day with my homestay family, would be a little bit difficult. The previous night, my host father had kindly told me and my airforce brothers to sleep in, since it was the weekend - breakfast would be at 9am instead of at 7am.

So breakfast, as usual, was delicious but sparse - I don't know how my host parents do it, but I certainly can't last from 7am to 12pm on the plate they set before me and my much larger fellow students every morning. I wish I could take a picture! That, however, would be a little weird, I think, so I will do my best to describe the situation accurately.

First of all, all of my host family's full size plates are the kid's kind with three compartments - you know the kind I mean? My plate... Yes, I have my own plate. And my own chopsticks, glass, mug, everything. Not that I see them other than at mealtimes. It's just that I always receive the same ones... So anyway, my plate says 'snack, dinner, lunch, breakfast' on it (backwards, I know, but Japanese people read right to left, so maybe not for them?), and in the mornings, one small container is, apparently, the tea mug place. Because the tea mug always sits there. In the other small compartment of the plate is a half a piece of white bread toast liberally spread with butter. In the main compartment is a small salad - maybe 1/4 cup, with dressing, and one slice of ham that could actually be/probably is bologne. Then, there are usually additionally one or two slices of an apple, peeled, and possibly a yogurt. The yogurts are semi-rare. Like, twice a week. And they're about half the size of a typical U.S. yogurt, and twice as watery.

So yeah. Breakfast is small. Good, fine, but small. I don't really understand. They cook up the BIGGEST, most DELICIOUS dinners! So far we've had Japanese curry rice, yakisoba, sashimi (okay, I almost gagged trying to force myself to swallow the last piece of raw tuna, but it turns out I like raw shrimp and squid!) and many other delicious things. No, really, I struggle to finish my meals at dinner time! But in the morning, I have to buy myself a snack to eat at 10am at school, or else I won't last until lunch time! I like to call this the Breakfast Mystery. Well, really, not until now. Because, who would I call it that to? But, from now on, on this blog, I will call it the Breakfast Mystery.

Okay. Now that we are all briefed on the Breakfast Mystery, let us return to today's main event - Colds in Foreign Countries.

I woke up with my sore throat, and I ate my small breakfast, and then I had nothing to do. Except that my host parents were headed out somewhere, and they told us we could do whatever we wanted. And PII officials had warned us all that even on the weekends, we were responsible for our own lunches - so I set out from my house, in search of food, and maybe some sort of Ricola cough drop? Or Throat Coat tea? But definitely some tissues. (Sweet Suiters, you may recall, I keep huge stores of all those products at college. But I never thought to bring them to Japan! I feel, now, like a poor traveler for this mistake...)

So I turned onto the large street where my bus stop is. I had never walked it except to get to my bus, but today I turned the other direction, just in case - I walked until I spied a familiar symbol on a building across the street - 薬。If you were to read it aloud, you would read it `kusuri,` and understand it to mean `medicine.`

Success! I hurried across the street and into the store. Another success quickly followed - I found a sign above a shelf of medicine that read `Kaze,` which means wind, usually, but also the common cold. I was doing so well all by myself! (I wouldn't even have to embarrass myself in front of someone who worked at the store!) But then, I realized, there were no import U.S. products on this shelf. I stared. I stared some more. I didn't really recognize any of the words... Or characters... Or products...

I looked around nervously. There was a box on the front with a picture of a man spraying something into his mouth. His throat glowed red - a sign of pain? But spray-medicines are gross, don't you think? I certainly think so! I noticed that box said `nodo` on it, though. A breakthrough! I realized/remembered, as I read the box, that nodo meant throat! I looked around for that word again, and found it on a small round tin that also featured the word `seki` (cough), and `shaagaaresu` (sugarless). I bought it.

Only on my way home did I check my watch. I had stood in front of the cold section of the drug store for approximately 15 minutes...

When I told my homestay parents I thought I was getting a cold, they said, 'what about a fever?' and then, 'poor you...'

The swine flu fear is still alive and well here in Japan.

Luckily, with my bright pink probably throat drops in hand, I survived the weekend. Now I'm better. And I've learned a valuable lesson - are you ready for it? Never go anywhere without your dictionary. Or your cough drops.

A Long Post. That Might Be Boring. (Let's call it a test of how much you like me...)

Today’s post is about academics. And expectations. And competitive feelings. And a lot of things… bear with me! Also, a warning: this post is long. Like, truly, or, in Japanese, hontou ni. Unless you’re, let’s say, my mom, (or my dad! Hi Dad!), this may bore you. Don’t worry about it. There will be more posts for you to read in future, you don’t have to read this one.

To begin with, let’s review (as we learn in this lesson, review is extremely important to the learning process!). I came to Japan to get better at speaking Japanese. And because I thought it would be cool. But what I really wanted/want out of this program, and these two months, is an increased ability to think of something I want to say and then BE ABLE TO SAY IT. It’s not as easy as it sounds, okay? Especially in front of teachers, for some reason. Actually, maybe this is obvious. When you want to sound at your best, you worry too much, and you may end up performing the worst. For me this is pretty much only true of speaking in Japanese. It makes me pretty darn nervous – and yet, I am improving! Yay!

So. I took a ton of placement tests. I did… let’s say… not so well… They put me into a second year Japanese class! Even though I’ve already taken second year! I was very sad – I went to the head of the program, Nazikian-sensei, who teaches at Columbia (and therefore knows me). She told me that she couldn’t do anything that moment, but we made an appointment to discuss things, and I set off to second… year… Japanese… class… With none other than my second year teacher from Columbia, Park-sensei. We reviewed basic verb forms. Very basic. I almost cried. No, really, I came very, very close.

So I had my meeting with Nazikian-sensei. I told her I wanted to go into third year. She agreed that second year was too low a level for me, but then… she started talking to me about my grammar – that I know a lot of grammar points, but I make a lot of small mistakes, and so it might be best for me to review. She said I had better go into 2.5, which is a summer program-y idea where you do the second semester of second year and then the first semester of third year. Again, I almost felt like crying. But at the same time, somehow, it sort of made sense to me. I don’t want to make small mistakes. I want to write really well in Japanese! So, I swallowed my pride. It was a little tough going down, but I did it.

And I felt like I had learned a valuable lesson – you don’t always have to be the best. And sometimes the best place to be, for you, is not at the top. And I wasn’t just telling myself these things to make myself feel better. I really saw the wisdom in review, and I was okay with it – even though two of my best buddies here are in third year. I felt so great about myself, that my self-worth wasn’t determined by what class I was in!

AND THEN. THIS MORNING. I WENT TO 2.5 CLASS. AND IT WAS TERRIBLE! I recognize that review is good, but my classmates were just not at the same level that I’m at. This is nothing to do with smartness. I have simply learned more than they have. Therefore, all that refining of my knowledge that I wanted to do WASN’T GOING TO HAPPEN. BECAUSE they weren’t ready – they needed basics, and the teacher gave them basics. Perfect. For them. But not for me. This time, I felt frustrated, and disappointed, but I was over the crying bit. I sat through the entire 3 hours of lessons… sigh…

Suddenly my valuable lessons about not being in the highest level were slipping away… What was I supposed to do?! Sit there and suffer through about 2.5 hours of excess for every ½ hour of useful knowledge? Um… I hoped not!

So when Park-sensei (my Columbia professor, remember?), asked me how 2.5 class had been, I tried, as tactfully as I can in Japanese, to say that it wasn’t really… um… giving me what I needed. And she was like, oh… okay… Hm… Maybe you can look at the third year materials and get a jump on learning words and characters for the second half of the program.

WHAT?! REALLY?! WHY CAN’T I JUST BE IN THIRD YEAR?! AAAAH!! Oh. This part happened silently, not with Park-sensei. Just so you know.

What happened next was something like a godsend. Or, I like to think it was. Really, it was probably pretty routine, but… yeah… We went to a park today, and drank tea the super super traditional way – shoes off, seated on knees (Ow! Ow! Ow!), with lots of bowing and formal set phrases to say – the entire program, including teachers, was along for the ride. So at one point, my new Japanese teacher, Kuwahira-sensei, is chatting with me, and she says, “so, how was class today?” And I’m like… “Oh, well…” So she goes, in English, “frankly,” and then in Japanese, “How was class?” So of course, that was all the invitation I needed.

I told her I was worried I wasn’t at the same point in Japanese studies that my classmates were, etc, etc, and then the conversation sort of ended. But we had done a lot of pairwork in 2.5 class today, and I was the odd student out, so I felt like Kuwahira-sensei pretty well understood that I was doing things a little faster than the others…

And then Park-sensei talked to Kuwahira-sensei, so Park-sensei came to talk to me. And basically the gist of that conversation was, “If you really want to be in 3rd year, I’ll argue for you. Or anyway ask Nazikian-sensei for you.” So I said, “YES! PLEASE! THANKS! I WANT TO WORK HARD! I WANT TO LEARN THINGS!” Or something like that…

And THEN, after the tea ceremony, Nazikian-sensei told me to come talk to her when we got back to the building where we have classes. And I did, and after about 15 minutes (no, really, it felt like forever!) of me convincing her I wanted to do it, I’m get to go into third year tomorrow. But I’m also “responsible for my own grade,” as she put it, so that’s scary. And, in a way, okay, since I’m not really planning to get credit for this program, so my grades will disappear into oblivion as soon as they are released. (In fact, my friends who did this program last year never even found out what their grades were!)

So that’s the story of how I might be a more humble person, but how I am also a good arguer, and people are nice to me, and let’s see how I do in third year, where I’ve wanted to be all along! I better send Park-sensei and Kuwahira-sensei thank you notes…

P.S. I just had third year class. I'll be fine, I think. Hooray!

YOU WANT TO SEE MY ROOM?! Well... you can!

Now… where were we? Oh yes, my homestay family. They’re absolutely wonderful. I adore them, even if I don’t know my father’s first name. They’ve clearly had a ton of other foreign students, which is actually pretty nice because I feel like they understand my position sort of well. (This has been important in the first few jet-laggy days!) They do speak some English, as in, they know a few English words, which is sort of nice now because my vocabulary is so small. I’m hoping that as long as I try not to speak it, they won’t. Right?

This brings me to the semi-unique homestay situation that I’m in. I found out about it on the drive from the hotel (in the huge car, remember?). My new mother told me about it – that they have two other foreign students staying with them, both Americans from the Air Force Academy.

Yes. I have two military “brothers.”

They were both on weekend trips when I arrived, so it was just me and my homestay parents at first. They took me on the bus route I would use to get to school, which was a relief, because I was nervous about it, and then led me around to some of the notable shrines of the area. Hence the pictures of shrines and greenery. That statue is of a samurai who basically founded Kanazawa city, as far as I can tell. There’s going to be a festival for him this weekend, and we PII students are going to dance/walk in it! We’ll see how that goes…

Anyway, the first “brother,” whose name is Tai, got home in time for dinner on Sunday night – cool. His mother is Japanese, so he’s quite adept, and it was actually sort of helpful to have him there telling me words I couldn’t possibly know. And then Monday morning the other brother, who is from Tacoma (“Seattle,” as we suburb-livers say when in Japan), and is named Daniel (go figure, right?) got home.

So this is how it’s suddenly going to be difficult to speak Japanese all the time with my homestay family – Daniel and Tai speak to each other in English. Oh no! I am trying very hard to stick with the Japanese, but it’s difficult when they ask me a question in English and I don’t know how to respond in Japanese. I’ll keep working at it though. That’s why I came here in the first place! (Plus they are leaving in a few weeks, before I do, so by the end I’ll be speaking only Japanese again.)

And now, the moment you've ALL been waiting for! MY JAPANESE ROOM!! (Please clap. I will not continue if I don't feel your excitement!)

First, here's the door...

Isn't it pretty? I can even lock my room, even though I don't have to. My family is so considerate... Also, note the Writing Fellow bag - I like to think this makes my room a home away from home. I mean, it was before. But you know. Yeah. Writing fellows are great!




This next picture is of my nice little sidetable, couch, mirror, and window. My room is extremely small. (You can tell, can't you...?) It is also, however, FULL OF STUFF! And not just because I brought a lot either. I swear. Anyway, that's where my toiletries live, that pretty little green table. Next... my bed!


Bet you thought I was going to be sleeping on the floor, DIDN'T YOU?! Well, yeah, I thought the same thing... But instead, look at this awesome lofted bed I have! Again, the home-making Writing Fellows bag at the forefront. And under my bed, I have a study space. So that's awesome. So far, I haven't used it. I've mostly done my homework in my bed - it's pretty great up there - but I will soon. Like today. Now that I have real homework... Hm...









See this nice study space?





And finally... la piece de resistance (sorry, Japanese keyboards aren't down with accents, I'm not going to be able to do that correctly...) MY CLOSET!

Yeah, isn't he awesome? Actually, it's probably a she. She is awesome though. She zips closed. And no, you may not see inside. Although you could probably imagine it pretty well, since you are all a little too familiar with my wardrobe. (Not the one in my room in Seattle - the clothes themselves. Come on, guys! Get your minds out of the gutter! My wardrobe, and my closet, are both fine, upstanding women!)

So... that's my Japanese room! Coming soon... my Japanese HOUSE!

It Seems Like I'm Posting Twice in a Row... But that other one was from earlier! WAY earlier!

Okay, team - the wait is over. The homestay family has been met. I have seen my room, my bed, and my classrooms. I have even taken my placement test (although I may not have done so well... We'll see!!!)

Most importantly - the homestay family. Yesterday, which was Sunday, May 31st, if you were wondering, I met them at approximately 11:40am. I have a father and a mother - I knew that. Right away, my mother told me that I should call her "Mom," my father "Dad." So there you go. Nice, right? Very familiar. This also means, though, that I don't know my father's actual name, because the paperwork I got only printed my mother's name...

So they took escorted me away from the hotel where we'd met, to the "Rifare Building," my school building, but also where they had parked their car. Now, Japanese cars, so far, are tiny. Like, Mini Cooper sized, AND smaller. Which is adorable to see next to all the HUGE passenger buses. (P.S. They drive on the wrong side of the road here, just like England. Don't worry, though, I never really think I'm in England... ) So I'm expecting to get to this tiny thing that barely fits my admittedly large suitcase. And then we walk up to this HUGE van. Like, huge. Even by U.S. standards, it's semi-gigantic. Can fit at least 8 people, I'd say.

And we get in. Okay. Not so exciting. But I was surprised.

So... Now I have to go visit the Ishikawa Prefectural Government. They're very good to my program - they give us free bus passes, which is awesome because they cost about $200 for two months. Mine is pink and pretty awesome. More later. Gotta pretty up for the government.

First JAPAN Post!

5-30-2009 8:21 JAPAN TIME

Hello friends! I am writing this post by hand, to be typed later... Why? Because I am currently on a JAPANESE AIRPLANE! And, as you may or may not know, Japanese airplanes are similar to American airplanes in that they don't have internet. This Japanese airplane is also similar to American airplanes in that it may have been made in the U.S. It is hard to tell, though.

So anyway. Here I am in Japan. So far, Japan is hot and humid, but also grey.Before it got dark, which it did early, it was cloudy. So so far, (mind you, I haven't left the airport yet...) Japan is grey. Greyer than Seattle!! However, I am determined to be delighted. So I am delighted. Plus, about 5,000 great things have already happened, so that helps.

Number One: Before I got off my boring, American airplane in Tokyo ("Narita"), about four men in full green hospital suits and surgical masks walked through our plane, talking to people, to ensure we were swine-flu-free.

Number Two: At one of 3 customs check points (the first of which was dedicated, yet again, to keeping that pesky swine stuff OUT), the guy asked for my passport, and I said "hai," which is Japanese for "yes." So of course he asks me a question in Japanese (yay!) which I can't understand (not so yay!), and then he had to repeat it for me in English.

Language-related failure count: 1
(But it's early...)

Number Three: Here's where it actually gets awesome. I go to the domestic terminal to re-check my bag, and the woman prints me this TINY ticket - like, half the size of an American plane ticket, AND she puts it in a cute case. Already, Japan is full of wonderful, tiny things. (Yes, see? That's an adorable Japanese ticket, RIGHT NEXT TO AN UGLY, LARGE AMERICAN VERSION!!!)

Number Four: I bought my first item ith yen! I love yen... I spent 150Y on a Royal Milk Tea (yes, the sugary kind of tea, that is totally acceptable here. I think. Anyway in airports it is...), paid with a 1000Y note, and got my change back ALL in COINS! And the 50Y coins have a hole in the middle. Don't worry, I'll bring some back to you as souvenirs.

Number Five: This is the best step yet, just you wait! So I'm looking through the in-flight magazine on my snazzy Japanese airplane, right? Which I can't read, really, because there's too many characters I don't know... But I'm bored, so I'm flipping through, and I get to the last page - it's pictures of all the size of planes that ANA (All Nippon Airlines) flies. Okay, good, good. I glance over it - I'm looking for the plane I'm on, even though I don't really know which one it is... And THEN I see it! In the bottom right-hand corner, where the smallest plane should be, there is instead a picture of a WHALE. Needless to say, I took the magazine.

Even more needless to say? I love Japan.

Here Goes...

Here I go, guys. Today I fly to Japan. Nevermind that I arrive tomorrow, I leave today. Headed into the forefront of time... I will do everything BEFORE YOU DO! It's Friday for you? Been there, done that. It's Saturday for me, suckers!!

Wow. I hope I never say or type that ever again. I'm so sorry. But hey, I'm sort of nervous too, so there you go... Wish me luck!

I know too much

I know too much about the Obama's love of chocolate. Barack loves milk chocolate. Michelle prefers dark. But both are big fans of Fran's Grey Sea Salt caramels.

I also know too much about Fran's. Because Fran is from Seattle, and I, personally, just like the Obamas, love her caramels. (But not with salt on top. Too salty.)

Anyway. Fran's. I know too much. Fran is a woman named Fran Bigelow. She makes chocolate. She is also a woman named Aunt Fran. I know this because I know her nephew, because he was in my class in high school. Once he almost asked me to prom, but then he didn't feel like buying me a corsage. So he didn't. Awkward. I hope he never reads this blog...

SO. Japanese people looove Obama, apparently. Especially the ones from the town of Obama, Japan. So when I get to Japan, and give my homestay family their presents, should I give them the box of milk and dark caramels and say, Barack prefers the milk, but Michelle prefers dark. Is that creepy? Or just informed? Everyone knows Ronald Reagan loved Jelly Beans. Or do they? I'm feeling a little creepy right now.

Inaugural Post

I have yet to leave for Japan. But I will. Hence the blog. This post will be short and sweet, I think, because really, I'm not doing much yet. I'm trying to figure out what to buy for my homestay parents as a gift (Obama's favorite caramels, which happen to be from Seattle, are definitely in.), I'm icing my foot, which was recently mildly injured, and I'm biding my time...

But soon this blog will be full of crazy words I'm learning and exciting things I'm seeing, hopefully in the form of photographs, for all of you, my loyal followers, to enjoy.

I hope you enjoy it.