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!