The Sweetest Pocky

My day hadn't started well. It had me feeling sad and full of regret. I needed a good dose of quiet and calm to know where and how to step next.

I was in Kyoto at the time so headed off for Ohara, in the Kyoto hinterlands. Getting on the bus, I was happy to have gotten the last seat for the hour long ride. After a couple of stops, three sweet old ladies hopped on. I have to confess, I did consider staying in my seat, my feet sore from two days of walking. Instead, I got up and offered my treasured spot to one of the women. After a short protest, she gladly took it.

The bus was crowded but I was lucky enough to have a good view out the window. I watched the landscape change from bustling city centre, to city outskirts, to rural towns to the wooded mountains.

When we finally arrived at our destination, the lovely old lady who had accepted my seat rummaged through her bag. She produced a box of Pocky, a Japanese snack of chocolate coated biscuit sticks. She handed it to me, telling me it was to thank me for the seat. I was so touched and the gesture really made my day. Pocky has never tasted so sweet.

Going Bananas

For a long time now, I've always eaten a banana with breakfast. While I wouldn't claim it to be my favourite fruit, it's high up there. It's convenient (no washing or cutting); unlike most fruit, it's filling; it's tasty; it's one of the few fruits I'm not allergic to and it's a fruit I can buy cheaply, all year round in Japan. Until now.

A couple of weeks ago, they disappeared from the supermarkets. Why? It all has to do with a fad banana diet. A friend of mine watched the TV show that tested the diet and the ironic thing is, it didn't even work for the woman trying it out. And yet it seems like the nation is eager to get on it.

Last weekend Wayne happened to be at the supermarket at opening time. He went straight for the bananas. He and everyone else. He ended up walking away for a while, surprised at the rush. After picking up the other things we needed, he went back. Then the crowd around the banana shelves had thinned but was still four people deep and he had to fight to get us a bunch.

I wish everyone would get over this latest fad. I want my morning banana again!

Photo by -eko-

Teaching Position Vacant at my School

Due to unforeseen circumstances, we are looking for a native English speaking teacher for an immediate start at my school. The school is in Aichi, just outside Nagoya.

I've written a bit about my school and the students on this blog, and you can get an idea of the position in this post, scroll down to the paragraph that starts "My second job in Japan..."

If you're interested please email Trevor Wilson at wilsont411(at)hotmail(dot)com. Make sure you put something like "Job application" in the subject line. Please don't send any applications to myself or through this blog.

*** Update - the position has been filled ***

Earthquake Day

For a while, there has been talk of a large earthquake predicted in the area of Japan where I live, Tokai. My students were very serious when they told me that thousands of people would die and that buildings would be destroyed. It's referred to as the "Tokai Dai Jishin".

Well, some psychic has predicted that it will happen this coming Saturday. Honestly, I wouldn't have thought that people would give much credence to the report.

I was wrong.

I've heard a few people talking about concerns for their plans for that day because "the earthquake will happen." I've even heard of a dance class that was cancelled purely because of the earthquake prediction.

Personally, I don't believe it will happen, but just to be on the safe side, cross your fingers for me.

Fine Dining

By day, a taped up cart. By night, a noodle restaurant complete with milk cart seating. Shot in Tokyo.

Summer Comes To Me

I have to confess something. I've boycotted summer this year. That's right, I'm not having anything to do with it, I'm pretending it doesn't exist. I do have an excuse though, with the health stuff that's going on at the moment, a few hours in the heat leaves me wiped out and in bed for days. I'm far happier (and healthier) if I stay inside air conditioning.

It does mean however that I'm missing out on all the fun summer festivals. Tonight I would have gone to the Seki Fireworks Display and tomorrow to a Bon Odori dance.

Luckily, I have been to both before, so I don't feel like I'm missing out too much.

Today, in I was on my computer in air conditioned comfort when I heard a funny little noise. A cicada had come to visit and remind me of the summer outside. It serenaded me for a while, before it flew away to partake in the summer fun on my behalf.

The Legend of the Cowfrog

When I first came to Japan I was teaching in a few different schools for the same company. Every Tuesday, I would catch the train for an hour to get to the head office for classes there. I finished at 9.30pm and would walk home in the dark to the train station.

Just before the station was a small river. Often at night, I would hear a sound like that of a cow moo-ing. I found this quite strange as during the day I never saw any cows or any places a cow might be nearby, but yet the sound was very much like a cow.

That year I had a student who was a special ed. teacher. She was telling me a story of how she'd taken her students out to catch tadpoles. These weren't your normal size tadpoles, but actually rather large. She told me that they were the babies of an "ushi kaeru". Ushi kaeru she told me made a sound much like a cow.

Wow! I thought as I translated the animal name "ushi" = cow "kaeru" = frog. In Japan they have an amphibian called a "cowfrog". That's what I'd been hearing on these dark nights.

For about a year, whenever I heard the sound as I crossed over the river I thought of this mythical like creature, the "cowfrog". I imagined it the size of a cat, with tadpoles the size of mice. What an amazing country this is to have a "cowfrog".

Fast forward to a night much later at a karaoki bar to me singing the Three Dog Night song "Joy to the World".

"Jeremiah was a bullfrog..."

Hang on a second - "ushi" = cow, "ushi" also = bull....

In Japan, they have BULLFROGS!

Ahh... I much preferred my cowfrog image.

No wonder I'm feeling the heat - I forgot to eat eel!

This year, I missed the Japanese national eel eating day, doyo ushinohi うなぎ土用丑の日. Every year, in the middle of summer, there is a traditional day to eat eel. It is believed to help people who suffer from summer fatigue. This year, doyo ushinohi fell on July 24th.

It's interesting how this tradition came about. An owner of an eel restaurant was complaining to his doctor friend about slow business. The friend suggested that he tell people that eating eel in summer helps you fight the heat. The marketing ploy worked and so the tradition was born.

Eel is one of my favourite Japanese dishes. The city I first lived in when I came to Japan is quite famous for their delicious eel and there it is cooked a little differently I'm told (it seems a little crunchier than other places). The small city has something like seven eel restaurants, and that's all they serve - eel on rice, the same dish but in different sizes.

The dish of eel comes with pickles and a clear soup called o-suimono. This soup is also one of my favourites, lovely and refreshing in summer. One time I was drinking the soup at the eel restaurant and found a mushroom at the bottom. Being a lover of mushrooms, I snatched it up and started chewing. "Mmm... that's a funny tasting mushroom" I remarked to my friend. She laughed and refused to tell me why until I'd finished eating it. It was actually eel liver.

So I missed the official eel eating day this year, but I think this week, I'm going to have to get me some.

Photo by Conveyor Belt Sushi

Another Japanese Sound

I love the sound of pre-dusk on a sunny day. The sound of futons being beaten. The way the sound bounces off buildings and echoes. The way a number of women will be beating futons at the same time, it sounds like some sort of percussion jamming session.

Sitting at home and hearing that, I know it's been a lovely sunny day.

Seeing a Doctor in Japan

In Japan, you don't make an appointment with a doctor. Instead, you turn up during opening hours and wait. On a good day in a small clinic, the wait may be ten to fifteen minutes. On a not so good one, it can be hours.

Today, I went to see a specialist in Tokyo. While it was only a 15 minute consultation, it became a three day trip. There was a particular doctor I really wanted to see. The hospital where she works opens at six am. The doctors don't start seeing patients at six am, that happens at nine. At six am, the line up begins. A bit like camping out for a new iphone or concert tickets.

Being too early in the morning to leave from Nagoya on the day, I came to Tokyo a day early. Not wanting to check out of the hotel in the early hours of the morning, I stayed an extra night. That's how one short doctor's visit became a three day trip.

As I was already here yesterday, I did a trial run at the hospital. I made sure I knew exactly where it was, how to get there and what to do once I was there in the morning. For about ten minutes due to a small language misunderstanding on my part, I was told that I couldn't come when I had planned. I tried really hard to hold back tears until it was sorted out. At the trial run, I was told that I could wait until eight am to come, but luckily I went at seven instead, as I got ahead on the queue. By the time the doctors began at nine, the ticket machine counted over 120 patients.

With that many patients, their system really does need to be highly organised, to the point that you feel like you're on a conveyor belt. The process today was this;

• Got a patient number from the ticket machine.
• Lined up to get a new patients forms.
• Filled in the forms and handed them in.
• Waited in a big waiting room to be given my hospital card.
• Got my hospital card and was sent to the second floor.
• Waited in a another big waiting room until my number was called.
• Waited in a smaller waiting room until my number was called again.
• Saw the doctor for about 15 minutes, which by Japanese standards is very generous.
• Was sent back to wait in the big waiting room.
• Was shown to another small waiting room.
• Had another quick test.
• Went to a different big waiting room until my number came up on the board.
• When my number came up, paid at an automatic payment machine, much like one you'd find at a car park.
• Went back to the big waiting room for my number to flash on another screen.
• When my number came up again, went to a window where I was given my prescription.

Was in at seven, out by ten. Had a lovely understanding doctor who was most helpful. Not too bad.

Transration

Found today on the back of a packet of self-sealing cellophane bags;

"When those where the tip becomes pointed are inserted being to be a possibility of tearing note."

Can anyone explain?

Japanese Sights

What I saw while riding to school this morning.

A Buddhist priest dressed in all his finery, probably on his way to perform a ceremony, riding a scooter with a wooden box placed on his lap.

You've gotta love some of the things you see in Japan.

Tanabata Memories

Today, July 7th is called Tanabata, the Star Festival, in Japan. It is believed to be the only night of the year that two lovers Orihime (Vega) and Hikoboshi (Altiar) can meet. For the rest of the year, they are separated by a river made of stars, the Milky Way.

Once again borrowing from Wikipedia, one of the stories goes like this;

"A young farmer named Mikeran discovered on his farm a robe which, unbeknownst to him, belonged to a goddess named Tanabata. Soon after, Tanabata visited Mikeran and asked if he had found it. He lied and told the goddess that he hadn't but would help with her search. Eventually the pair fell in love, were wed and had many children. However, one day Tanabata noticed a piece of cloth which had once belonged to her robe on the roof of Mikeran's hut. His lie discovered, Tanabata agreed to forgive him on the condition that he weave a thousand pairs of straw shoes, but until that time, she would leave him. Mikeran was unable to weave the shoes in his lifetime and thus never met Tanabata again. However, it is said that the pair meet once a year when the stars Altair and Vega intersect."

To celebrate the festival, many Japanese write their wishes on coloured strips of paper and hang them on branches of bamboo. It looks a bit like a summer Christmas tree.

This year, I haven't been to any of the Tanabata festivals, and in fact my town actually celebrates in on August 8th. I find it interesting that the Girl's Festival is on the 3/3, the Boy's on the 5/5, Tanabata on the 7/7 and in my town the 8/8. Does anyone know why?

Many years ago, I went to the Tanabata festival in Ichinomiya City with a couple of friends, a fellow Aussie girl and a Japanese guy. Through the covered streets of the shopping mall, brightly coloured streamers fluttered in the summer breeze. People were dressed in summer yukata kimonos and there were lots of yummy festival food stalls to enjoy. There were also many gangs, rival gangs at that.

These weren't scary yakuza gangs, but rather younger guys, yakuza wanna-be or yakuza in training. Whatever their future may have held, I found them funny and cute. They were all dressed up in their matching uniforms of sorts and just hanging out. I wanted a photo of them and so not even considering there could be anything to fear, just went up to take some photos. My fellow Aussie came and joined me. Our Japanese friend froze in terror. He told us later that he was scared for our safety, but running through his head was "if anything happens, do I try to save the girls, or do I make a run for it?". He never did tell us if he decided which was the best option.

The gang leader however, was more than happy to pose with us and I have a great shot of his friendly grin and "peace" sign.

The police however, did not find the gangs so cute. There were many of them there on the night, decked out in full riot gear. If I was on the streets of Melbourne or LA, I would have been terrified. But instead, I found the short, slim policemen kinda cute, a bit like little boys pretending to be big scary men. The police decided it was time to move the gangs on, but the gangs didn't want to move. In their bullet proof vests, face shields down and batons striking on shields they held in front of their chests, they formed a strong line and slowly moved forward.

Again, much to our Japanese friend's distress, my Aussie friend and I thought it was a perfect photo opportunity. Somewhere (sadly I think it's back in Australia) I have this fabulous shot of her doing a very happy, cutesy pose in front of the line of riot police and one officer screaming in her ear "Abunai!" (it's dangerous).

I know I should remember the stories and traditions of Tanabata, but for me, it will forever be the image of my friend's cheeky grin in the face of "danger".

Kakigori

Summer arrived and hit us hard last week. Until then, days were a bit steamy, a bit rainy, but on Thursday the mercury and humidity jumped and looks like it's ready to stay.

I hate the heat. Probably as much as I hate the cold, but I really do hate the heat. I cope with it in Brisbane as there always seems to be a green shady place to escape to, but not in this concrete jungle. Instead, I run for the shopping centres with their heavenly air conditioning.

To help me survive this season, yesterday I bought a kakigori (snow cone/ shaved ice) machine. There are many to choose from, most with characters. I went for a traditional looking one, one that I can easily take when I move back to Australia next year.

We christened it today.


Ice cubes go in the top and are then pushed down close to the blade. The wheel at the end is easy to use and it's so much fun watching all the shiny flakes of ice land in the bowl in the bottom.

Mmmm... just look at all those yummy artificial colourings! I bought strawberry, melon and lemon flavourings.

I had to be a kid and go for the trifecta of flavours. What a perfect way to cool down.

One of those Japanese Sounds

Many countries have different sounds. I remember when I was in Indonesia, the sound of the Muslim call to prayer. In Japan, there is the sound of the roast potato man driving through the streets selling his wares. The garbage trucks sound like ice cream vans and then there's the awful noise created by politicians driving through the streets before election day.

One that freaked me out the first time, and still does to this day is the air-raid siren. At least that's what it sounds like, and it's probably what it used to be.

It just went off here a few minutes ago. It means that there is a fire in town somewhere. Many of the firefighters in Japan are volunteer, so the siren is rung to call them to the station.

In a town I used to live, they used both the siren and loudspeakers that are permanently rigged around the city. At four in the morning the siren rang and someone announced the location of the fire. It was a bad one, a restaurant near my house. Then again, at five, the siren rang again and we were all woken up to be told that the fire had now been extinguished and thank you to the firefighters. Thanks, but I would have rather slept and found out at a much more reasonable hour.

Morning Routine and Morning Panic

Wayne has a one hour drive to work every day, I have a five minute bike ride. Wayne's a morning person, I'm not. Actually, Wayne is a any-time-of-the-day person, I'm a late night and early hours of the morning person, but can't live those hours during school term. Wayne gets up at about 5.30am. I sleep through my 6, 6.15 and 6.30 alarms. Wayne wakes me at seven when he's leaving for work and I get up then.

Today is Sunday. Wayne is working. He doesn't normally work on a Sunday, but one of his school's has an open day, so they swapped a Sunday for a Monday. In Australia, you couldn't simply swap a Sunday for a Monday. In Australia, Sunday is still for most, a day of rest, a day of family, a day of recovering from hangovers. But in Japan, a Sunday can simply be swapped for a Monday.

I heard Wayne get up and I went back to sleep. At seven, Wayne kissed me goodbye and I went back to sleep. Later I rolled over and looked at the clock. It was nine. I knew Wayne had gone to work. I remember him in his shirt and tie. I panicked. It must be a school day. It was nine o'clock. I was late for school. I knew this would happen one day. It was Monday, OK.. what's my Monday class schedule.. that's OK, my first class isn't until eleven. I'm late for school, but not for class. Why didn't anyone call me?

Slowly, I remembered that it was in fact Sunday and that Wayne's Sunday was swapped for a Monday. Not mine.

Now I'm worried about tomorrow morning, when it's Sunday for Wayne. Will I get up?

Jizo

Sorry, I don't have the energy to blog properly tonight, so instead, I'm going to copy from Wikipedia;

"In Japan ... Jizō ... is one of the most loved of all Japanese divinities. His statues are a common sight, especially by roadsides and in graveyards. Traditionally, he is seen as the guardian of children, particularly children who died before their parents. Since the 1980s, the tendency developed in which he was worshipped as the guardian of the souls of mizuko, the souls of stillborn, miscarried or aborted fetuses. In Japanese mythology, it is said that the souls of children who die before their parents are unable to cross the mythical Sanzu River on their way to the afterlife because they have not had the chance to accumulate enough good deeds and because they have made the parents suffer. It is believed that Jizō saves these souls from having to pile stones eternally on the bank of the river as penance, by hiding them from demons in his robe, and letting them hear mantras.

Jizō statues are sometimes accompanied by a little pile of stones and pebbles, put there by people in the hope that it would shorten the time children have to suffer in the underworld (the act is derived from the tradition of building stupas as an act of merit-making). The statues can sometimes be seen wearing tiny children's clothing or bibs, or with toys, put there by grieving parents to help their lost ones and hoping that Jizō would specially protect them. Sometimes the offerings are put there by parents to thank Jizō for saving their children from a serious illness. Jizō's features are also commonly made more babylike in order to resemble the children he protects.

As he is seen as the saviour of souls who have to suffer in the underworld, his statues are common in cemeteries. He is also believed to be the protective deity of travellers, and roadside statues of Jizō are a common sight in Japan. Firefighters are also believed to be under the protection of Jizō."

Please do it at home

Poster at a Tokyo subway station.

Other than the obvious, what I also find funny about this poster is that they've written it in English as well. I've seen plenty of this (and hair curling) going on in the trains, but it has always been Japanese women. Would love to hear if anyone has seen a western woman preening herself like this on public transport.

Geta

I hadn't realised until I started posting random Japan photos, just how much I like taking images of footwear. Japanese footwear at least. You'd never guess that I was into shoes would you?

Number 52