Monday, May 28, 2012

Jellyfish!!!





I am from Iowa. I was one month away from college graduation the first time I saw an ocean. David is from Montana. He, on the other hand was three the first time he laid eyes on the foaming brine. Not that he remembers it.

Now we live on an island. Rivers criss-cross Tokushima and are connected to the ocean at at much nearer distance than any where we grew up. Near enough to have dozens of jellyfish wash in with the tide.

We sounded like school kids on a field trip: heads hung over the railing, squealing sounds of delight (okay, that was me, not David), and taking photos with abandon. Thank goodness for digital cameras!

This type of jellyfish is called a moon jelly.
We met some people from Tokushima after that and tried to share our excitement, but they were not as impressed. Apparently, when you grow up near the ocean, even the 8-year-olds are nonchalant about jellyfish in the river.


As if a horde of jellyfish wasn’t enough, we also happened across what appears to be a stingray. They are common in the ocean all around Japan, and often found in shallow water near the coast. It was awesome!


I’ve not had a chance to learn how to take photos into the water. I had no idea what  was doing. Please forgive the quality - but they’re jellyfish!! I could not contain my excitement earlier, and I am still (several hours later) giggling over seeing jellyfish and stingrays. Today is the first time I’ve ever seen them outside of an aquarium. And it was without a doubt the coolest sight I’ve seen since coming to Japan.

What an amazing day!

Sunday, May 27, 2012

Making Tortillas

We were utterly spoiled when we lived in Chicago. We had our choice of great tasting tortillas - and some not so great ones as well. David likes tortillas, but I love them. I eat them instead of bread for grilled cheese sandwiches, breakfast (with peanut butter), desert (with yummy chocolate spread!), a snack (with peanut butter and yummy chocolate spread), not to mention in their more expected place around tacos and enchiladas.

I had learned to make my own tortillas in Tokyo when I discovered how difficult they were to find, and just how expensive they were after finally locating them. A flour tortilla recipe only called for flour, salt, shortening of some sort, and water. It was much easier just to make them myself. And they tasted better than any I had ever bought.
Cooking up some flatbread goodness!

When I moved to Chicago, however, the opposite happened. They were locally made, delicious, and cheap, so I stopped making my own. By the time David came around, I had long since believed my tortilla making days were over.

Then we moved to Tokushima. 


Somedays I am not sure what prompted a move back to a country that doesn’t value the tortilla as a staple food. Japan has many good qualities, but undervaluing the tortilla is not one I understand.
Tonight I tracked down a new recipe for flour tortillas - mine was long ago rejected from the recycle bin for being too well-used and covered in oil, and like a pizza box, my recipe was consigned to the trash. I found a new recipe, a better one than before, and I made tortillas for the first time in four years

Heavenly: warm and soft. Fresh. 
Just the way a tortilla should be. 



Forgiveness in the Rain


I dislike riding my bicycle in the rain. I would rather walk and carry an umbrella than ride and feel like I have no protection. Often, the umbrella is a placebo anyway, as the wind is so strong as to make carrying the umbrella useless, or even counter-productive.

Since it was starting to dribble when I left for work on Friday, I grabbed my umbrella and began to walk. The wind wasn’t blowing so I was enjoying the cooler weather, if not the humidity.

My work schedule is a rare paradise in workplaces. I have the guilty pleasure of being able to I go in when I have work to do and leave when I am finished. All my Friday classes had already been planned; I left right around 2:30, solid in the knowledge that I’d still be an hour early to do any last minute changes and to set up the classroom.

I was two blocks from home when I remembered.

A new student was scheduled to begin class that day. With me. At 3:00. Even had I been riding my bike, at that point, I would not have made it to school before three. Panicked, I called my boss and explained the situation. I figured I could be there almost on time if I ran home, retrieved my bicycle, and hightailed it the work.

Her grace and forgiveness calmed and soothed me as she said, “I’ll come get you.”

In the chaos of setting up a new student, especially one whose work schedule is as varied as mine, uncertainties always creep in. There had been a question of whether she would begin this week or next, and at what time. In the end, 3:00 on Friday was decided. I wrote it down in on place, but not on the schedule at work. I felt only a little relief I managed to remember before class started. I should have remembered before leaving the house.

Yet, my boss offered more than mere forgiveness, which is enormous in itself. She came in her car to give me a ride, and we arrived at the school at 3:00 on the dot. No one (but the world of blog readers) was any the wiser of my mistake.

People ask why I picked Tokushima as the place to live and work in Japan. My boss is why.

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

Update

There is only one carrot left in the fridge. There are two carrot cakes in the freezer. My landlady has her cake. I've got one to take to work. There's still one sitting out to be eaten.
And yesterday we ate carrot jam for lunch.
I wish someone would start harvesting chocolate chip cookies.

Tower of Cake!

David's lunch, with my carrot cakes in the background.

Sunday, May 20, 2012

Carrots


Since we live in Japan, where ovens are non-existent, the biggest tool I have for making cakes and cookies is a toaster oven. Last month I bought two miniature loaf pans. Those loaf pans have already contained four loaves of carrot cake each. They are currently gearing up for another round because I live in Tokushima.

Tokushima has carrots the way the ocean has wet. It doesn’t really matter if you like it or want it. Carrots are going to appear on your doorstep.

Imagine going to the grocery store with your plastic grocery bag (I know, it’s not very eco-friendly, but at least you are re-using it). You take your grocery bag to the produce aisle and fill it with carrots. Three times. In two weeks.

David and I have eaten raw carrots, stir-fried carrots on rice, carrots in minestrone soup, a few more carrots on rice. We put some in the freezer. And of course, I made carrot cake. I gave one to everyone we know: my boss, my co-workers, our landlady, the Jehovah’s Witnesses who came to the door. Everyone.

What's left after the third batch has been eaten for dinner. And
lunch. And snacks. Now it's time for breakfast.
Yummy carrot cake!
In addition to the creative uses we have tried to conceive, we have been given a jar of carrot jam. Carrot jam. I admit that in my wildest imaginings, I never imagined someone would make jam out of carrots. Truthfully, it’s not too bad, although it looks like something you’d feed a three-month old child. It is a little sweet, and a little vegetable-ly. I ate it on toast, and discovered it is, albeit a little weird, rather tasty.

It’s now the middle of May, The fields are empty or full of newly-planted rice. I was even informed by my boss that carrot season is over.

Then last night my landlady thanked me for the delicious carrot cake. Another bag of carrots appeared. And she smiled.

I need to go buy more eggs.

Friday, May 18, 2012

The New Phone


A week ago David and I bought a cell phone. We bought the cheapest possible cell phone plan, since you all know how much David and I both love to talk on the phone. We also bought the cheapest possible phone. It’s one of those so-called smart-alek phones, and didn’t come with an instruction manual. Then again, the manual would have been in Japanese and less than helpful. I need all the help I can get trying to use the thing.

The other day my boss called and I couldn’t figure out how to answer the phone. Every now and then a light will blink in the corner; sometimes it’s red, sometimes green. I have no idea what it means. When I am trying to explore the various icons and what they do, I’ll change the look of my phone and be unable to put it back. The good news is we have no data plan, so I can’t run up any charges from accidentally hitting the wrong button. Argh! I’m not a fan of this phone.

This so-called smart-alec phone will be useful, though when we get internet. When that happens, David will do some magic and I’ll be able to call the United States. And you’ll be able to call us. And get this - it’ll be just like calling us in Montana. Won’t that be great?

But the best part of our new phone? Yesterday David discovered how to watch television on the phone. Television! On our phone! And it even records programs for later viewing, which will come in very handy today when, say, I’m at work during the sumo tournament.

Maybe I’m starting to like this smart-alek phone idea.

Saturday, May 12, 2012

How do you know you're in a foreign country?


I was thinking yesterday about living in a foreign country. When I go to the grocery store, I don’t know what most of the things on the shelf are. Or if I have a general guess, such as, “That’s a sauce,” I still do not always know exactly what kind of sauce. Yet, whenever I go, I’m just grocery shopping. It doesn’t feel strange. There may be crates of fresh squid and other such sea creatures in the meat department, but it’s still just a grocery store.

Also, last week David and I opened a bank account. It was a very long process, and my little bit of Japanese was not good enough to make things progress smoothly. We had to struggle between Japanese and English and I quickly learned how to write my address in Japanese, which I hadn’t done yet. But, all in all, it was just like any other trip to the bank: sitting at a desk, filling out form after form, dealing with the tedium, and having someone try to sell us the bank’s credit card.

Then yesterday, on the way to work, I looked out over the fields that had been empty the week before. During the Golden Week holidays when I didn’t go to work, the farmers were busy. The whole walk to work is now lined with freshly planted rice fields. Suddenly I felt the exoticness of Japan rushing up into me.

It isn’t the language or the billboards I can’t read. It isn’t the unidentifiable food in the stores. It isn’t the multitudinous garbage and recycling schedule. It isn’t the children in their school uniforms including matching hats and high-viz yellow backpacks glowing behind them. But when I look at the rice fields with their dainty green stalks rising up out of the water, I immediately feel as if the earth has shifted under my feet. Wait, where am I? Oh, right - I am far away from home in a foreign country.

You're not in Iowa anymore!

My walk to work.
It’s the rice fields.  Stretching from the road to the foot of the mountains, pools of the unknown, reflecting the clouds, the sky, and my dreams, it reminds me just how far from home I am.

Golden Week 2012



During Golden Week, Japanese students (and many non-students) enjoy a week-long vacation. A collection of four holidays happen in a span of seven days, giving people a nice break to get spring cleaning done before summer sets in, hot and humid. Well, David and I cleaned the apartment; my students took trips to Osaka or somewhere else nearby.

One day, though, we did get out and have a fun afternoon. The school I work for is planning an excursion to the zoo next month. To help plan a scavenger hunt, David and I accompanied my boss and another teacher to the zoo yesterday on a fact-gathering mission.

Tanuki.
I might have a new favourite animal!

Fact: The Tokushima zoo has many more different kinds of animals than I expected.


Fact: A native Japanese forest dweller, a tanuki, which is usually translated into English as “raccoon dog”, truthfully looks like a cross between a raccoon and a dog.


Fact: One black bird with white polka dots reminded me of a dress Lucy Ricardo wore.
What's the real name of what I call the "I Love Lucy Bird"?

Fact: The four of us had as much fun at the zoo as we hope the children will have.


On the way back from the zoo, we stopped at Japan’s smallest mountain, called Bentan San. A shrine at the top of the mountain is dedicated to the goddess who created Japan. Her name slips my mind, but I’ll let you know when it comes back to me. It is a mound of trees sitting in the middle of vast fields, so it certainly doesn’t fit the terrain.




Bentan San