Culture Day

   Living in Japan, I am surrounded by "culture". Japanese language, Japanese style TV, manga, food, history, fashion, transportation, morals, ethics... But really, culture is relative, and you only realize what you are experiencing is "culture" when you're out of your normal "culture". The line between my American culture and my Japanese culture is blurry times, and I find myself no longer starry-eyed over things I once was. Those elements of "culture" have become normal.

   The first weekend of November was a 3 day weekend, celebrating, betcha can't guess, Culture Day. Once upon a time-about 100 years ago- it was celebrated as the Meiji Emperor's birthday. The Meiji Emperor (given name:Mutsuhito. Fun fact: all the Japanese emperor's name's have ended in ~hito since forever ago) was head of state during Japan's transformation from a feudal nation to a highly industrialized world power.After the second world war, it was eventually reinstated as a national holiday. This year, I actually did something culture-y!

    Ever made sashimi? Neither had I, but I've lived here long enough that I now am starting to see the spare bits and pieces of fish at the market less as "Ick!" and more as "Hm, how could I cook THAT?". Sashimi is just another one of those things that I was too scared to try making by myself.

    Enter Junji, a friend of TG's, who was born and raised in the Shikoku region. He is a Renaissance Man, with a wide pool of knowledge and a generally uncle-ish manner. We went over to his house to be shown how it's done, Mind you, sashimi is the actual fish. All that "sushi" people are eating is actually the name of the vinegared rice. So delicious...

    Anyway, so the first stop was the fish market, where we picked out some mackerel pike, Japanese amberjack (yellowtail), and red sea bream. The fish mongers were nice enough to clean out the insides, but we had the joy of chopping the heads off ourselves.I'm not squeamish, so that wasn't an issue, but man I need to work on my knife skills. It was labor intensive: Remove the scales (if needed), hack off the head, slice in half around the spine, repeat on the other side, remove the ribs from both flanks, slice a skinless fillet. I was terrible about slicing the flanks off, but decent at taking the skin off. After we were left with out fillets, we then cut them into bite-sized pieces. For sashimi, it is very important that you NOT wiggle your knife back and forth while cutting the fish. It messes up the fat deposits. 

    Throwing the rice together was sticky, messy affair, but the end result was a feast! Coupled with the fish head soup Junji made, his homemade beer, and hot coffee when the wind picked up in the evening, it was a lovely day.I haven't made sashimi since that weekend, but now I know if I really want to impress any visitors that I have the perfect menu hidden up my sleeve!

Fall again

Time flies when you are incredibly busy. 

Here's what's been going on:

* I've been volunteering up a storm! I played one of several Mama Ducks to the new JETs who arrived in summer, am helping staff an American culture booth at an International Fair, and am part of a team organizing events within my prefecture for our ALTs. Next week, we are having a huge urban scavenger hunt- hopefully we don't lose anyone.

*I'm learning! Well, sort of. I'm taking a Japanese Linguistics & Pedagogy course that I (excitedly) passed the entrance requirements and now I am (not so excitedly) reading about dialect evolution and proliferation. I subsidize this with actual "learning" from a few fabulous non-fiction books I have read recently. For whatever reason, I've been on a Russian History kick.  

* I've been saving money like crazy! In part because I've been busy, I find that I am exhausted on the evenings and weekends and just long for a quite evening at home. 

* I survived several attempts on my life by Mother Nature. No, not really, but in the past few months Saitama had a freak tornado, a direct hit from a typhoon that I had to trundle through to go to work (It was "too dangerous" for students, but teachers were forced to come in), and Sakurajima, a very active volcano in Kagoshima Prefecture, farted clouds of ash in my direction for several days on end.

Sakurajima, what an ash hole.

* Halloween! It just passed and was much less crazy than last year. I didn't attend any parties- there was yet another typhoon, but even if the weather had been nice, I was in Okinawa with a girl friend trying to unwind.

I found a hermit crab. His very unorginal name was Hermy.

* Painting! With stress and a hectic lifestyle (apparently, this is the burden of being a 3rd year), hobbies and personal enjoyment are even more important to keep up. At one of my visit schools, the art teacher took a liking to me and we have passed many a free period chatting and painting. He is currently working on a portrait of me and my horse, Finnegan, as a Christmas gift. It's a really sweet gesture and I cannot to wait to see what it looks like when it is finished.

Bento-ism

I recently discovered a website called JustBento.com . Bentos are an incredibly popular, packed single portion meal and the Japanese have taken the art of lunch box prep to…well, artistic new heights. Some schools have forbidden students from bringing their own lunchboxes in order to prevent jealousy and bullying among classmates (let’s face it, when you have a nation of largely stay-at-home moms, things can get pretty competitive in regards to child rearing).

 

This practice is less enforced at the high school level, and I am often impressed with the lunch boxes some of my students bring to school (and less impressed with my male coworkers who seem to either scarf down a single Cup Noodle or rely on their wife to make their lunches). Thanks to their artistry, and a delicious winter meal I had with my friend L before Christmas, I got to thinking, “Why can’t I make a bento?”.

 

To tell the truth, I do often bring my lunch to school, although it’s usually half-haphazardly thrown together with whatever leftovers I have in the fridge. A bento, on the other hand, is something that is prepared specifically for lunch. As part of my New Year Resolution to start trying recipes, JustBento.com came into my life precisely when I needed inspiration.

Clockwise from top:Kinpia Gobo, Tamagoyaki (rolled egg omelet) with genmai (brown rice) and hijiki, a small side salad, and kimchi plus homemade takuan!

 

The first thing I made was a side dish called “Kinpira Gobo”, or stir fried carrot and burdock root. Stores carry pre-packaged kinpira, but a few meals worth isn’t worth the convenience (in my opinion). A carrot and a slice of burdock together are maybe $2, and I had the rest of the necessary stuff in my pantry. Burdock is packed with fiber, it’s crunchy and the kinpira recipe is a bit spicy, so it winds up making a really delicious side and a healthy snack option.

 

A light lunch consisting of tofu garnished with leek, some cherry tomatoes, simmered pumpkin, kinpira gobo and smoked salmon

Additionally, I threw a jar of what appears to be bright yellow toxic waste into the fridge. It will continue to sit there until it decides to listen and absorb all the flavors that I ask of it. It's called “Takuan”, and is pickled Daikon, or giant radish. I feel in love with the stuff while at L’s house, and was disappointed when I saw that buying pre-made was close to $3. A bit of daikon at the store is less than a dollar! I found the pickling recipe and threw everything together. I may have to try again and make some adjustments to the sugar, salt and vinegar combination, but so far it’s been fun. My coworkers have been impressed that I’m taking more of an interest in cooking Japanese food. And why shouldn’t I? I’m here, I find cooking therapeutic, and I love trying new foods. It makes perfect sense to try and master this all before moving back to ‘Merica!

Armidale, amirite?

It is my own traveler’s belief that you never really know a place until you see the countryside, even if it’s just for a few hours. Cities cater to tourists and they have their time and place, but real life is in the suburbs or the rural areas.

Enter Armidale. Now, considering Australia has a big, huge, massive empty center, this place wasn’t rural in the exact sense, but it was smaller than Sydney and significantly smaller than the Tokyo/Saitama hyper metropolis. In the end however, this turned out to be a wonderful side adventure.

I landed at the airport, walked off the tiny plane across the tarmac and into a terminal that was roughly the size of my house.

“Oh, so it’s that kind of place,” I thought.

As soon as my friend J walked through the door, with a big  grin plastered on his face, I knew the next few days would be fantastic regardless of how small a town I had put myself in.

My time spent with J and his lovely family (plus adorable dog) was incredible-for so many reasons. It was relaxing, rejuvenating and insightful. J himself is one of those people that I just clicked with when I first met him in Japan. We both have a love for history and share a sarcastic, dry sense of humor; we spent a lot of time nerding out or quoting film and television lines to one another (A noteworthy example: Pretty much every line from the episode of The Simpsons where Bart has to go to Australia to pay a fine. It’s hilarious. Watch it).  We did a lot of reading. We did a lot of napping. We did a lot of chatting. We did a lot of eating (Oh sweet holy Buddha, the Lamington cakes…). We drank copious amounts of tea (Dear heavenly Batman, the peppermint tea...). We did a lot of walking. Nothing clears the head and soothes the heart like walking.

We walked from here...

...to here!

Except for that moment when I thought I lost my camera and all the photos I’d taken in Australia and San Diego. I needn’t have worried though, it was hiding in the dog’s bed and was mailed to me a few weeks later.  

No, J didn’t make me sleep in the dog’s bed! I was just petting and cuddling Bundy after watching a teary film about an Australia dog (“Red Dog”, if you feel like crying) when it fell unnoticed from my pocket and was buried in the sheets.

J and the camera thief, Bundy

What was supposed to be a 3 day stay turned into a week long-hang out. Because of the camera fiasco, I put off driving to the coast for a day and J decided to come with me, which meant cancelling my rental car and saving a ton of money. So I got to stay another day in his house, enjoying his mama’s fine English/Southern hospitality all the while. I saw my first rugby match (and had no idea what was going on aside from grimacing every time someone was tackled or thrown halfway across the field), read some hilarious ANZAC comics, and generally just dossed about.

And every minute of it was beautiful.