Pizza

This picture shows our littlest chef in the family sporting his new cooking attire, courtesy of yet another one of my talented aunts. My Aunt Bev made some awesome aprons for the boys, complete with Chefs hat (lovingly embroidered by Aunt Betty), kerchief, and a set of pot holders.

As a little New Year's celebration, we had a "pizza and movie night". This used to be a favorite Friday event in the Felker household when we were still in Juneau. Pizza is harder to come by here in Japan. It's not unheard of, just not as accessible. So, using a foccacia recipe, we made our own pizza. Here are some shots of Ridge assisting with the preparations. Notice the stylish dragon apron he is wearing. Sometimes the kids at school cook as an activity for the day. Now Ridge will be fully prepared with his own apron. For the pizza tonight, Ridge kneaded his own dough and helped chop some of the toppings. We cut up mushrooms and green peppers, along with slicing the cheese into more manageable bits. Unfortunately, shredded cheese is not terribly common here in the village. Usually we find it in one of the bigger cities. So, we had to make do with these somewhat non-descript white cheese slices. We also had some pre-cooked bacon and chicken as toppings.

Ridge and I cutting mushrooms
Ridge creating his pizza masterpiece
Ridge's very own homemade pizza, ready for the oven

Since I wanted to make a pizza for each of us, we used the cool stove-top oven my mom sent. This worked perfectly to cook Ridge and Holt's pizzas while mine and Aaron's cooked in the microwave/oven.

Ridge's finished pizza in the oven
A finished pizza for Aaron and me

I thought the dinner came out quite well, and we had a nice evening eating homemade pizza and watching Mary Poppins. Holt really grooves to the "It's a Jolly Holiday with Mary" bit.

Japanese New Year's Eve traditions apparently involve drinking sweetened sake, making soba (a noodle made from buckwheat), and visiting the shrine at midnight. Our festivities will be limited to a party at Mr. Kamaya's house tomorrow. I am interested in Japanese traditions, but dragging my two young children out to the shrine - at midnight and in the cold- just doesn't sound like much fun.

A close up of Holt in his hat. He didn't want to knead his dough because his hands "would get all messy!"

Board of Education

Well, Wednesday was the “End of the Year” party for the Board of Education. It’s funny to me that the kanji for the name of this kind of party actually translates to, “forget year meeting.” Before I describe the event, though, I should take a moment to explain what the Nishiokoppe Board of Education is.

I don’t completely understand the way the village governmental jobs/positions are organized. What is clear to me, though, is that things are very different here. In America, the Board of Education is a group of concerned citizens who have been elected to the job of overseeing their school district. Usually they are retirees or have other jobs. Being on the Board is not a wage-earning job in and of itself, correct? Not so, here in Nishiokoppe, perhaps in all of Japan. The Board of Education, or Kyoiku-iinkai, as it is called in Japanese, is comprised of paid positions. There are only three people whose jobs I understand pretty well. Mr. Kamaya and Mr. Tasaki are the superintendent and assistant superintendent, respectively. Tomoko is the “nutritionist”. She plans and cooks (with help) the school lunches for Nishiokoppe and Kamiokoppe elementary schools, and for Nishiokoppe middle school. I think she spends each morning with food preparation and then returns to the Yakuba to work at her desk. Mr. Izuka’s job is a bit of a mystery to me. He was introduced to me as the “social education” director. I think he is the one who coordinates certain social activities, such as the mini-volleyball contest. Mr. Abe also has what is to my eyes a very ambiguous job. He is involved in agriculture in some way, and it was he who grew the pumpkins we used for Halloween. There is one more, whose name I do not know, and he is the director of the Komu.

These are the members of the Nishiokoppe Kyoiku-iinkai. Like many things in my life now, I have learned to accept a certain level of ignorance on my part. We each know our own job and it works out. Everyone pitches in to help where needed. If a bit of snow needs shoveling around the Komu entrance, you can count on Mr. Kamaya to take care of it if he is around. There is no secretary. When the phone rings, anyone may answer it and then pass the phone across the room to the requested person. We all share one room, with our desks facing one another to form one big table of desks. Mr. Kamaya, however, just like the school principals, does not reside in the big office with all of us. He has a larger office attached to our room, complete with couch, coffee table, and carpeted floors.

I don’t really know anything about the decision-making process, unfortunately. I suspect that, in accordance with Japanese custom, consensus is a huge factor. Only Mr. Kamaya has ever made a decision about a matter without consulting someone else. Even then, he often must consult another group of people before making a final decision. I’m not sure who he meets with, perhaps the village council.

So, again in accordance with Japanese custom, our little group had a dinner party at the hotel on Wednesday night. Thankfully, the entire Felker family was invited and we ate in one of the Japanese rooms. That means that we sat on the tatami floor to eat. Eating on tatami using low tables is especially convenient with small children. Since everyone is already on the floor, there is no need to bark at children to stay in their chair. They can easily get up and walk around without being a problem.

The meal was pretty mellow as it was a smaller group – only 8 others, not counting the Felker Family. We had a variety of dishes, including chili shrimp, tempura, a kimchi stew, rolled sushi, and a plate with tomato, cucumber, and cabbage. The boys ordered a meal from the kid’s menu. We have eaten at the hotel (for parties) enough now that the fact that the menu had no pictures and nobody could translate it to me didn’t pose a problem. I just asked them for the hamburg (not hamburger) children’s meal. Holt, as expected, didn’t touch his, but Ridge scarfed his down pretty quick. Dinners in Japan tend to be leisurely, so the boys had to amuse themselves while the adults ate. Ridge had brought along his new sword and a purple play silk as his cape. The men loved it. Mr. Izuka is a Kendo teacher (Click here for a quick explanation of Kendo) and had a lovely time playing around with Ridge. After a few beers, though, the men were instigating exactly the type of behavior we don’t want from Ridge. I thought things were a little too rough, but everyone was laughing. I now have a more clear understanding of what Japanese people expect from children’s behavior, so I tried to relax. It seems, in general, that kids are allowed to get away with a lot more than American kids. Not only that, but it’s really unheard of for Japanese people to judge each other based on the behavior of their children. Nobody will think Aaron and I are bad parents if our kids act a little crazy. Boys are expected to act a little crazy.

Of course, after dinner, there was the “second party.” Aaron got to go to this one and I went home with the boys. Apparently, he and Mr. Abe had a lovely time with the karaoke machine. Seems that Mr. Abe kept picking obscure English songs, which he then couldn’t sing, and so he would hand the mike over to Aaron. Of course, my talented husband with a photographic memory could sing most of them. Mr. Abe apparently ended up passing out and needed to be woken up when it was time for the party to be over. I saw him when I went to work yesterday, bright and early at 8:30. He seemed fine, if you can believe that.

Japanese people celebrate Coming of Age Day, which honors Japanese youngsters who are turning 20. This is the age of legal adulthood in Japan. As such, Aaron was asked to give a speech, in English, on January 8th. The sister of one of my middle school students will translate the speech. She spent this past fall in the US attending her first semester of college to study theater design. Having come home for the holidays, she was asked to translate the speech for Mr. Izuka. At first, they asked Aaron for a 20-minute speech, but I managed to get them down to 10 minutes. Aaron will give the speech in English, and then Mr. Izuka will give the same speech in Japanese.

The problem was, with Christmas, Ridge’s birthday, and general craziness, Aaron was having a very hard time finding a good opportunity to work on the speech. Upon finding this out at the dinner party, Mr. Kamaya suggested that on Thursday we “switch”. Everyone seemed to think this was a wonderfully inventive idea and it was met with many smiles and much laughter. So, yesterday at noon, Aaron came over to my desk and I went home to take care of the kids. Aaron worked for about two hours, finished up, and then he came home and I returned to work. Who would have thought that my boss would suggest such a thing? It worked, though. I printed out the speech and gave it to Mr. Izuka yesterday afternoon.

Today is a half-day and I have been forewarned that Japanese custom is to do a big bout of cleaning, as it is the end of the year. This will be preceded by a speech that I will not understand a word of. Should be fun!

Ridge Turns Five!

Yesterday was Ridge’s fifth birthday. It’s hard to believe he is really five years old! He was so excited about turning five he could hardly sleep the night before. When he awoke the next morning, he stumbled from the bedroom, examined himself in front of the heater, and promptly announced, “Mommy, I’m not any bigger.” Holt followed Ridge into the warm living room and mumbled something with his pacifier in his mouth. Ridge responded by wrapping his arms around Holt and declared, “Look, I am bigger. Yesterday I was the same size as Holt and now I’m bigger than he is!” I didn’t have the heart to point out the obvious.

I was lucky enough to grow up with a mom who always made me totally awesome birthday cakes. Because of this, I think, I find myself really wanting to make interesting cakes for my boys. Last year I made Ridge a fire truck caked and he desperately wanted another one. I explained the difficulties surrounding frosting an entire cake in bright red icing: (1) Red icing tastes really, really yucky, (2) Last year I used a spray on color with no taste, and (3) Food coloring is difficult to come by here, much less spray on color. At first I tried to convince him that I could make him an ambulance cake (white icing – easy!), but he would have none of it. So, in the end, I agreed to a castle cake. Oh, who are we kidding; the castle cake was my idea and I talked him into it. He never would have thought of it on his own.

Front view of cake
Side angle view of cake

So, for Ridge’s birthday, he had a castle cake complete with decorations made from Japanese candies and a dragon Aaron formed out of clay. The clay that most kids here use is a kind of paper clay that is easy to use and dries very nicely. He also made the little flags on top of the castle. Thanks to Mom, I didn’t have to make the icing or cake from scratch. Thank goodness! For dinner, we had corn dogs, coleslaw, and mac and cheese sent to us from my friend Debbie. Mom sent me corn meal and a great recipe for corn dogs. The only adaptation I made was that instead of using a fryer, I cooked my corndogs in a wok with chopsticks. Those cooking chopsticks are really quite handy to have around!

Cooking corn dogs
The finished product

For the “party”, I told Ridge he could invite one friend. Of course, Ryuya was the chosen one. I screwed up my courage a few days ago, rehearsed the Japanese, and went next door with Ridge to invite his little friend to join us on the 27th.

Believe it or not, even popping into a Japanese home can be a cultural experience. This, I think, is due to the unique structure of a Japanese home. You see, everyone here has a genkan. This is the entryway where you leave your shoes and then, usually, you step up a step into the actual house. Some larger houses, like ours, have another entryway that you enter into. It’s awkward to have to put on your shoes to open the front door should someone come over. So, the usual custom is to let yourself into the genkan and announce yourself by bellowing, “konnichiwa!” This way, the occupants simply come to the edge of the genkan to see who has come visiting and no shoes need be dealt with unless you are invited in. Still, knowing this, it was difficult for me to just walk into the house and announce myself. Grandma Otosaka (as we call her) bounced down the stairs, saw me, and with a smile called for Ryuya’s mother, “Okasan!” This means, literally, “mother”. Her head poked around the corner and she, too, grinned at my shy son and me. I managed to spit out a little Japanese and some English. “Ridge no tanjobi. Nigatsu….27. Ryuya kimasu onegaishimasu. Gohan. Cake.” Not very good Japanese, but it worked. Literally, I said, “Ridge’s birthday. December….27. Ryuya come please. Meal. “ I think she already knew that his birthday was coming up. The pre-school newsletter had mentioned it (I had someone translate it for me).

So last night, around four, a very excited Ryuya loudly burst into the house, his mother bearing gifts for both Ridge and Holt. They were bags full of small toys; all prepackaged. It’s very common here to buy a gift bag that is already loaded with little gifts. Ridge and Holt did not even notice the presents, though, as the followed the little whirlwind that is our neighbor into the playroom, his coat flying off behind him. The boys began to play wildly and then our next guest arrived. I invited my teaching partner, Mr. Kurata, his wife, and their son. He had as yet been unable to attend any of my dinner parties, so I asked him if he wanted to hang out for an American birthday. We all munched on snacks while the kids ran crazy. Occasionally we had to pick up the Legos because Kurata’s son is only about 18 months old and kept stuffing his cheeks with the little plastic blocks. Everyone seemed to enjoy the food, though Ryuya wouldn’t eat. He told Kurata’s wife that his mother had told him not to eat because it was too close to dinnertime. This sure didn’t stop him when we had cake, though. After the meal, we lit candles, sang Happy Birthday, and watched all three boys help blow out the candles. Holt was excited about the cake, also, surprisingly enough. He has never agreed to eat cake before. I think it’s because this particular cake was one hundred percent chocolate. Lately, his Garis genes have been making themselves apparent as he demonstrates just how obsessed he is with chocolate. So, now, at his request, I will make him a cake instead of cookies for his birthday.

Ridge posing with his new sword and a play silk he is using as a cape
Holt being silly with pj's

Tonite we have the first of several parties to attend. This time of year is full of “end of the year” parties. Fortunately, the whole family has been invited to this one at the hotel tonight. On January 1, we will go to Mr. Kamaya’s house. Then, on January 6th, I will attend one for all the Yakuba staff. Finally, on January 8th, the whole family will again visit Mr. Kamaya’s house for a party to celebrate Coming of Age Day. More on that later.

Final Note: the photo at the top is of Ridge and Holt pretending that the play structure is a rescue vehicle.

More Snow, Komu Santa, and Christmas

We awoke this morning to yet another amazing snowfall. This time, however, much to my surprise, the pre-school didn’t close. Ridge stayed home anyway. Aaron’s philosophy is that if the snow is taller than your children, don’t go out. As you can see from these pictures, the snow was at least as deep as Holt is tall in some places. After I took these pictures of the front entryway, Aaron attempted to shovel his way out. I stress attempted. Turns out he couldn’t get the door open enough. Instead, he wrestled with a frozen window on the backside of the house and, after winning the match, he hopped out into thigh-deep snow. Several long minutes later and he finally re-appeared in the font of the house and shoveled this path for me through the snow so I could go to work. Thank heavens our generous neighbor again attacked our snow with his front-end loader during his lunch break. I hate to think of what it would be like for Aaron to have to shovel all that snow by hand.

Our front door, opened a crack
Trail from the house. I had to use my bag for some contrast.
Aaron shoveling

Yesterday was Christmas for us. It’s a bit strange being in a country so very different from our own on Christmas. Here in Japan, Christmas is a time for eating Christmas cake and giving gifts to children. Most adults do not give gifts to each other. If they do, in most cases it involves a man giving a woman a gift, much like Valentine’s Day in the U.S. For children, a gift is sometimes placed next to their pillow, not under the tree. Sometimes stockings are hung and then filled, but this seems to be limited to very young children. I asked my junior high students if they would be getting a gift for Christmas and most said, “no”. However, what they will be given is a gift of money on New Year’s Day.

Christmas Cake is, basically, white sponge caked topped with strawberries and other small decorations. Most people do not make Christmas Cake. Instead, the stores are chock full of a wide selection of similarly looking cakes.

Christmas is not a holiday, and I consider us lucky this year in that Christmas Day fell on a Sunday. Otherwise, I would have had to go to work. It’s hard for me to comprehend even having to go to work on December 26th. As we in America all know, December 26th is a day for shopping and returning gifts. Still, we made Christmas special in our own way.

On Christmas Eve, the boys and I made some cookies for Santa, wrote him a note wherein Ridge asked for a candy cane, and left some milk and a carrot (for the reindeer). It had been a long and somewhat trying day as I tried to do some shopping in Monbetsu while giving Aaron some alone time at home. My nerves were a bit frayed and I wanted nothing more than for my darling boys to go to sleep. So, I pulled the oldest, and nastiest trick in the black book of parenting. As our little imps wrestled and played instead of cooperating, I heard myself telling them that Santa wouldn’t come until they were asleep. This, unfortunately, fell on deaf ears. So, I suddenly said to Aaron, with a hushed tone, “Shhh…do you hear that?” I then proceeded to try and convince Ridge and Holt that Santa was coming and they had better get their little bodies into bed and go to sleep. Poor Ridge. He panicked, got into bed, and began to desperately search for reassurance that Santa wasn’t coming yet because he didn’t want Santa to see him awake and not give him his presents. I tried to tell him everything would be fine, but he just kept getting more and more worked up, and eventually began to cry hysterically. At that moment I could hear Santa scratching my name off the list of good mommies and daddies. I think Ridge cried and cried for nearly ten minutes. The poor little guy just sobbed, totally terrified that Santa wouldn’t leave his presents. Aaron finally came in and convinced him that he had written a note for Santa to please come back in a little while and that Ridge was trying very hard to fall asleep. All in all, it still took Ridge about an hour to fall asleep.

But, the next morning, the boys awoke to full stockings, a plate of crumbs, and a lovely note from Santa telling Ridge what wonderful little boys he and Holt are. We open presents leisurely and munched on some pastries I had bought the day before. Around ten, we dressed and went out to enjoy a bit of sun as it reflected off the bright, white, snow. Our walk led us to none other than Seicomart, where we collected the party trays we had ordered. Neither Aaron nor I had wanted to cook, so we opted for the easy solution. Turkey is really rare here, and the “traditional” Japanese Christmas meal is to cook a whole chicken. Usually, finding a whole chicken is a little uncommon. For the past few weeks, though, stores have been full of a wide selection of cooked and uncooked chickens from which to choose. As Americans, the idea of eating a roast chicken just wasn’t very exciting. In Juneau, we were probably cooking a chicken once a week at least. So, instead, we got some sushi (for Aaron), sandwiches, and a tray of chicken skewers.

Let me take a minute to explain the sushi tray. This is very typical sushi. Instead of the rolled up bites you see in the States, these are oblongs of rice with a bit or nori (seasoned seaweed) and a topping. The top row is topped with the eggs from Flying Fish. The second row is topped with sashimi, which means the meat is raw. The white is squid and the pink is salmon. The next row down is topped with Salmon roe (eggs). The fourth row is topped with two smalled cooked shrimp and on either side you can see some omlette sushi. Sushi doesn't have to have to involve fish. The important thing is the rice, which has a sweetened vinegar mixed in with it. The final row is topped with some sort of fish with a sweet sauce. I think it is a fish called Sama, which is very poular this time of year. It is a dark, oily fish.

Sushi tray
Hard candy made to look like sushi
Chicken tray
The Spread
Close up of Salmon Roe Sushi
Close up of shrimp sushi
Ridge, Aaron, and Holt eating

So, we watched a video, ate take-out food, and drank sparkling cherry-apple juice. It was a pretty mellow day.

The Friday before Christmas, Aaron had played Santa at the Komu. We had to order him this suit from an online store because the village’s suit wouldn’t even come close to fitting him. In these photos you can see him passing out small wooden ornaments and having fun. The boys were happy to have an excuse to play at the Komu, and I had the chance to take a few cute pictures. Many of the village kids were playing there on Friday (it was a national holiday – the emperor’s birthday) and we had a good time with them. The younger girls really love it when Aaron plays chase with them. I followed Holt into the puzzle room and began to play with the blocks. Ridge soon followed and created his own little wooden tower. The room is big, and there were about six or seven elementary kids hanging around us, so I got everyone started building a line of blocks to knock down. I used to sit for hours and play with dominoes this way. I would set them up in cool patterns and then watch them all fall down. Well, this was even more fun, as the blocks were big and we had plenty of space. Soon, more kids had joined us and the project took on a life of it’s own. I have a short “movie” shot of the final product, just to get the whole scope of it. After it was finished falling down, all the kids got right to work putting everything back where it came from and cleaned up. Amazing!

Aaron as Santa.jpg
Santa, again
Ridge and Holt posing in front of a little display at Komu
Storytime in the puzzle room
Ridge, Holt, Ryugi, and Kaori
Block structure in the puzzle room
Ridge`s tower
Ridge and Holt posing
Short movie of block creation

I've been posting like crazy...

Just a little warning - I've had some down time at work lately and have thus been drafting posts like crazy. When I noticed I had five or so drafted posts, I decided I should actually finish them. So, since I don't have an classes and need to kill two hours, have been adding photos and putting the finishing touches on several posts. They are not necessarily in chronological order. I have, however, tried my best to mention, somewhere within the text, the date the actual event took place.

So, consider yourselves warned - there's a lot to read!

Waist Deep in Snow!

Wow! Everyone in Nishiokoppe wants to know how much snow Juneau gets. We always explain that we get a fair amount, but thanks to the rain, it doesn't hang out very long. They then describe how much Nishokoppe gets. Until Monday, I didn't really take them seriously. Monday morning I woke up as usual, got ready for work, and went to warm up the car. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw the snow piled up against the door to our glassed in room. I swear it was at least two feet deep. I wondered if I would be able to open it. Gingerly, I pushed on the door and it mercifully opened up, pushing the powder-light snow out of the way. At first glance, I thought that maybe the snow had simply drifted against the house. A second look told me that I was very, very wrong. I looked around our front yard in amazement. Our front yard, that Aaron had been judiciously shoveling at least twice every day for a week, was buried in deep snow. I picked up a shovel, and, wearing my coat, gloves, and skirt with long underwear underneath, I naively began trying to shovel a path to the car. No such luck. Within seconds, my skirt was crusted with snow and I could see I needed help.

I clomped back inside calling for Aaron with what was I'm sure a rather pathetic tone. "I can't get to the car," I whined. Always my knight in shining armor, Aaron pulled on his clothes and geared up for some shoveling. He waded into the whiteness and began to try to move as much as possible. Through the window, I saw him speak to a neighbor walking down the street. This conversation was shortly followed by Aaron's return to the house with the news that school had been cancelled. I quickly called Kurata and determined that there would indeed be no school. Teachers, however, still had to come, but not until nine. So, I decided I would spend the day at the Yakuba and save myself from having to drive anywhere. I changed clothes and helped Aaron shovel snow for a bit. I love our house, but I think we may have the most shoveling of any private home in the village. Our driveway is long, we have a large parking pad, and our meters for electricity, water, and propane are all located in different places. It's important to keep a path cleared to each meter, to the propane tanks in back, and alongside the garage so the sides don't buckle in any more than they already have. What that means is that we can't get away with only shoveling a path to the door and the driveway. If we don't keep up with the shoveling, it could pose very serious problems. We cook with propane, and it wouldn't take long for the tanks to become completely buried if we don't constantly keep them cleared. Oh...I say we, but what I really mean is Aaron. He is really shouldering the majority of the shoveling work, for which I am extremely grateful.

Finally, I crossed the street and went to work about 9:30. Poor Aaron was faced with a day full of shoveling and childcare, since the pre-school called to say they would be closed as well. I felt a little guilty, since I would simply be sitting at my desk writing emails, posting blog entries, and writing Christmas cards. I have no planning that I need to do and I can't handle studying Japanese all day. But, work is where I was supposed to be, so that is where I went.

When I went home, I was met with a wonderful surprise - a front-end loader was in our front yard! As I approached the house, I could see that Ruya's father was the operator. For reason's unknown, our neighbor was using his heavy equipment on our drive. I was so excited I started clapping while smiling wildly at Ruya's mother who was standing nearby with a shovel. Between our two neighbors and Aaron, the drive and the front parking pad were cleared in about ten minutes. As Ruya's father is an equipment operator, Aaron is thinking that he drove the front-end loader home for lunch and was clearing driveways in our neighborhood on his lunch break. I can hardly believe it!

Here are some shots of the snow and of Ridge standing waist deep in the snow. He really wanted to shovel, of all things. There's also a short movie clip of the snow blowing, which I took looking out of a window on the second floor of the Yakuba, across the hall from my office.
Ridge in the Snow
Blowing snow as seen through a window
A view of the Yakuba parking lot, a.k.a. snow storage
Our house from the second floor of the Yakuba

Lastly, here are three pictures of our street just to give you some perspective. First, one from this summer, then one from the first snowfall, then one from Monday.

Christmas in Shibetsu

Saturday the 17th of December, I went to Shibetsu to help Colin with a Christmas party. Shibetsu is about ninety minutes away in good weather. The school he is working for has him do “English weekends” every so often. Kids from the ten elementary schools sign up to come and they do a variety of activities all weekend. Being Christmas time, he was asked to do a Christmas party, of course. Since there are usually between 30 and 40 kids, he gets two other teachers to help him, and we get paid a bit by the school district. When he emailed me to help, I was excited to have a chance to see what other people do when teaching English. He warned me, though, that we would have to dress as Santa (all of us) and hand out presents at the end.

I left Nishiokoppe bright and early around 7 a.m. so I would have plenty of time to make the drive. We gathered at Colin’s place and then he drove the three of us to the community center where we would spend the say. The other teacher was a fellow from Canada who has been here in Japan for several years, like Colin.

We did some introductions, and then broke up into three groups for an hour of English instruction. The plan was for us to work on the phrases, “what’s your name?” and “My name is…” teach numbers 1 to 20, then work on “How old are you?” It was a challenge for me, because I have gotten spoiled by working with student who I know very well. Many of the kids also didn’t know each other, and my group was particularly shy. I admit, the hour really dragged on for me, but it was a good learning experience and I just kept pulling out new tricks and games that I have learned in my four months here. We then got back together, played a group game, and did an art project for an hour. Lunch was also done as a group and followed by more arts and crafts. At two, we divided up again for the last hour of teaching. This was a bit better, as the kids were more comfortable by now. After the lesson, we officially began the “party” portion and played a variety of games, such as bingo and musical chairs. Finally, the three of us traipsed back into another room to dress up. I brought the Santa suit we bought for Aaron (which is a whole other story for later) and gave it to Colin to wear. He isn’t a small guy and their Santa suit was way too small for him. Shane and I put on the other suits, but without the beards. We actually looked pretty good, like Santa and his helpers. We passed out the gifts, threw a bunch of candy into the air, and had a great time, in general.

The final part of the “show” was singing Christmas carols by candlelight. This might be a good time for me to point out that the person responsible for planning this party is Australian. Christmas comes in the summer in Australia. They put beer out for Santa instead of milk and cookies (“It’s hot, you know?” said Colin). So, we sang Jingle Bells and We Wish you a Merry Christmas while the kids sat in a circle holding candles. It was hysterical. We ran out of time to teach the kids the words, so we (the teachers) just played the music and sang along. It was an impressive ending I have to admit.

Here are a few photos from the event:
Playing Bingo. The hats you see the kids wearing were one of the craft projects we did.
Still playing Bingo
Santa (Colin) and his Elf (Shane) passing out gifts
Kids holding candles
My little craft-project table partner. He wanted to see how many hats he could wear at once.

Brownies

To continue with my theme of cooking, here are some shots of my middle school third graders (same age as a high school freshman) making brownies. As a prize, I had given Takuya brownies about a month ago. He asked me, in very careful English, if I could give him the recipe. I didn’t have the heart to tell him I used a box mix and that I had never made brownies from scratch. So, I promptly put it off, week after week. Finally, the week before last, on Friday, he shyly came to me and asked, “Mrs. Michelle, do you remember my request?” (Roll your r’s when you read that to yourself). I felt terrible, and decided that my next class with the third graders would be a cooking class.

I looked online and found a recipe to try out. We gathered in the kitchen, broke into two groups, and got started. They did pretty well – for boys. Issei and one of the others couldn’t stop sticking their fingers in the batter and licking them, though. I had to improvise a bit at the end because they were too dry, so I dumped in some oil. After 25 minutes in the ovens, they cooked up nicely. The kids had needed to move on to their next class, so I was taking them out of the oven when they suddenly came crashing into the kitchen. They wanted a taste. So, I plated them up. I was surprised to see that no one was eating. That’s unheard of – boys not attacking brownies?? Turns out they were waiting for the rest of their class. I was dumbfounded. They didn’t want to eat them until everyone was there.

I thought the brownies were a bit dry and not as rich as I would prefer, but the kids seem to like them well enough. Takuya took good notes on his recipe, so maybe he will try it again on his own. He looked up at me as he was munching a brownie and asked if they could eat as many as they wanted. I was, again, surprised by the question. “You made them. Of course, their yours.” Wide-eyed looks were exchanged all around. In rapid Japanese, sprinkled with tidbits of English for my sake, they decided to divide them up and share them with the teachers and the other students (remember, there are only 23 kids in the whole school). They gave me a plate and asked me to pass them out to the teachers. What a great lesson!

I think maybe we should make chocolate chip cookies next.

Here's the kids cooking:
Takuya mixing brownies
Ayaka and Kenta
More cooking
Dividing up the brownies

Happy Solstice!

For some time now, Aaron and I have been celebrating the winter solstice. This holiday took on a very important meaning to us when we moved to Juneau and could feel the extreme absence of the sun during winter months. The winter solstice is the shortest day of the year, and it's passing means the sun will remain in the sky longer and longer each day. For us, that is truly a reason to celebrate! So, I confess that sometimes we take Christmas presents given to the boys and spread them over Solstice and Christmas. It works well to help them to not become overwhelmed with gifts. This way, they take time to explore and enjoy each present over a longer period of time and I think they appreciate their gifts more this way.

So, this morning we woke up with the sun and opened gifts before going to work and school. On Christmas, we will open the remaining gifts, and Santa will of course find his way to Japan despite Ridge's fears that Santa won't be able to speak Japanese. In this picture, the boys are wearing new pajamas made just for them by my Aunt Betty. The movie file I have attached will take some time to download, as it is nearly one minute long. I couldn't resist capturing Ridge's "New Pajamas" song! They are also wearing new bike helmets courtesy of my mother. From what Aaron told me as I was leaving, I fully expect Holt to wear his non-stop, and perhaps he may even try to wear it to bed.

New Pajama song

A Funny Thing at the Post Office

Yesterday I went to the post office to mail some Christmas cards. The total was a bit more than I had anticipated, and it turned out I was short by about 500 yen. As I was attempting to use my pathetic Japanese to explain I would pop back home and get some more money, the man standing next to me pulled out a thousand yen note and gave it to the counter person. He smiled, speaking to me in Japanese, of course. It seems that he works at the Yakuba (village offices), and was telling me he was loaning me the money. I'm sure I met his offer with a looked of stunned amazement and confusion. Even without understanding his Japanese totally, I could tell that he was telling the lady at the counter to just give me the change and I could just pay him later. Today, I will go to the Yakuba at the end of my work day, and I sure hope I can recognize him! I was just floored by the kindness and trust people have here.

Neighborhood Christmas Party

The day after our Mexican dinner party, the whole family attended a Christmas party for the children in our neighborhood. I’m still not completely sure I understand the nature of the organization which was responsible for this gathering, but I’ve become so accustomed to be a bit in the dark all the time that it doesn’t really bother me. Usually, all things explain themselves in time.

To kick things off, the even began with a craft project. For this, we gathered at the Komu. I was excited to finally have the opportunity to use the wood shop that is located there. After everyone was assembled and two of the older children (fifth-graders) made some opening comments, we all began to assemble our little Christmas trees. Someone had prepared wooden dowels, a base, and a top for us. These were glued together to form the skeleton of the tree. Using a pattern, we then cut a piece of green indoor/outdoor carpet and shaped it into a cone. Fastening this with glue, we now had the body of the tree. This was then set upon the wooden supports and simply balanced in place. The kids had fun gluing on small ornaments and wrapping cotton around the tree to represent snow. Aaron got to play with a jigsaw and cut the star for the top of the tree. He had so much fun that one of the dads gave him a reindeer shaped ornament and simply said, “challenge.” After that, I lost him to the power tools as he happily cut out a little wooden reindeer.

After we finished our trees, everyone trekked over to the building adjacent to the Yakuba (city office building). This is across the street from our house. Green indoor/outdoor carpeting was unrolled and low tables were assembled. The women brought out trays of food, bottles of drinks, and two electric skillets. Everyone sat or knelt at the tables and the women began cooking various thinly cut meats and vegetables while the children and other guests helped themselves to the snack foods on the trays. It was a relaxed me, and the children had a lovely time running ‘round like wild animals half the time. After the meal, the kids played bingo for presents. Everyone simply kept playing until all the presents were given away, one for each child.

It was a longer evening than expected; we were out until after 8:00. Towards the end of the party, Aaron and I were pulled down to the end where the men were. It was inevitable, really. We are great entertainment. Fortunately, my Japanese has improved a little bitty bit so the conversation was marginally easier this time, as opposed to the village festival. The men are really a hoot, always asking about Juneau’s weather, Aaron’s shoe size, and the aren’t-you-going-to-have-more-kids comments. The family across the street from us has five children, and Aaron told the father that his wife works too hard. They all laughed.

In the end, the leftovers were divided up and we pulled the boys back home in the sled, grateful for the quite of our house. Between our dinner party and the kid’s party, we were pooped, and I had a kitchen full of dishes yet to clean.

Here’s a couple of pictures of the day:
Setting up the Food
Making Trees at Komu

As American as Apple Pie...and Enchiladas!

Who would have thought that I would have to move to Japan before I finally learned how to make corn tortillas and enchiladas? I’ve eaten Mexican food all my life, but had little reason to make it. After all, it’s always more fun to go to a good restaurant and chow down. Even in Juneau, Aaron and I just waited until we had a chance to go to Texas to get stocked up on Mexican food. Every now and then we would break down and go out to eat Mexican food in Juneau, but rarely. However, with the prospect of our next Mexican food being a long two years away, I decided that my next dinner party would be Mexican.

Last time I invited people over to eat, there were a couple who couldn’t come, so I planned a second one. Part of the reason we are here is for “cultural exchange,” right? So, I have been cooking up a storm lately. The Mexican dinner required a significant amount of pre-planning due to the size of our oven, though.

First, about ten days before the dinner date, I ordered some more food from the internet shopping store I use. It’s a company based out of Tokyo. They have a lot of Western food in a storehouse, and ship it out all over Japan. To get to Hokkaido, it takes about one week. Then, on Monday, I began my making the tortillas. I wanted to feed about 8 people, so I made plenty to ensure everyone could eat their fill. The total number of tortillas came out to about 38 or so. It was just enough to make three small batches of enchiladas, with some left over to fry for tortilla soup topping. I even saved two so I could show some of my guests what a corn tortilla looked like.

Pressing the tortillas
Shaping the tortillas by hand
My set up
Cooking
Finished product - about three dozen tortillas

Tuesday is my night for English class, so I didn’t do any cooking. Wednesday was my day to make the enchiladas. I had to use three pans, so I made two batches of green enchiladas and one of red. I confess to using canned sauce for both. The tomatillo sauce was really yummy though. Even Ridge liked it! So, I made a huge mess, rolled a bunch of tortillas, and finished just in time to watch Desperate Housewives. They show it here bilingually and I have managed to get completely hooked. Shows that are shown bilingually are transmitted with two audio signals. One for the right speaker, and one for the left. So, if you want to hear only English, you just turn off the left speaker and the Japanese goes away. There are a few things transmitted this way: news twice a day, occasional movies, sumo, and Desperate Housewives.

Thursday was Apple Pie Day. Only women, about six of them, consistently attend my Thursday morning English class. We were tiring of grammar lessons, so I offered to teach them how to make apple pie. I obtained permission to use the middle school’s kitchen (they have a very nice teaching kitchen, with a mirror on the ceiling and everything!) at 10 am, despite the fact that it was in the middle of the school day. I think it helped that Kocho-sensei’s wife (the principal – kocho sensei = principal) attends my class. I arrived early and baked a practice pie, which I intended to take home for Friday’s dinner. The women arrived – my usual contingent plus another three. I showed them how to make the pie and everyone’s came out quite well. The things they commented on were funny, though. They all thought it was unusual that I used a vegetable peeler to peel my apples and they thought the way I cut my apples was funny. I think that it is funny that they think there is a right way and a wrong way to peel and cut things. Sugar was also an issue. One lady mentioned to her husband that I used SO MUCH sugar! It’s apple pie! It’s supposed to have a lot of sugar. Then, I couldn’t get them to commit to putting in a bunch of cinnamon. After a little bit of nagging from the bossy American, I finally got them to put in enough cinnamon that I could actually see it. “It’s supposed to be brown,” I said. They looked at each other and began dumping in cinnamon. The crust on this, my second pie, was a bit nightmarish for me. I have a hard time rolling out crust when I’m tense – even a little bit. It seems that it always tears when I’m anything other than completely relaxed. Now, picture me with ten Japanese women watching my every move as I roll out the crust for the bottom. It tore. Of course. Oh well…I patched it as best I could and went on.

In the end, we ate my pie and drank tea. The others split up the pies they had made (there were only four other ovens, so some women paired up) and went their ways. This meant that when I got home from work at 5:00 that day, I had to make my third apple pie of the day. My top crust was so pathetic that I cheated and made a latticework top. Unfortunately, I didn’t take any pictures. I’m sure I’ll make apple pie for New Year’s, though, so I’ll take a photo of that one.

Friday arrived and I was feeling really ready. I came home from work, got the tortilla soup started, made the queso (which, unfortunately was uncooperative – it tasted great, but kept clumping), and put the rice on to cook. Colin arrived with guacamole, so we put that out with the chips and queso and Pace picante sauce I ordered online. The guests trickled in and we dug in. Everyone oohed and ahhed over the tortilla soup, so that was nice. I think the Mexican rice got a mixed review, but Mr. Usui and his wife loved it. The enchiladas seemed to go over well, also. I had a little teaching moment where I brought out the tortillas and some masa so I could explain how I made them. Turns out Mr. Usui’s wife had tried making corn tortillas before, but they were terrible. Colin and she translated the Japanese instructions that had been pasted on the bag of masa (internet shopping, again) and turns out the instructions were awful. It called for oil and salt, and said nothing about cooking the tortillas dry. I explained what to do, and even pulled out the cast iron skilled we are lucky enough to have in the house. The conversation then turned to how-to-make-taco-shells, and that was fun as well.

All in all, it was a great evening, I think. I had fun making the food and even more fun eating it!

Yuki ga Furimasu (snow falls)

Finally, it feels like winter! For the past week or so, it has been snowing a little bit at a time. At first, it was just a hint of snow, a peek at what is to come. The snow would fall almost secretly in the middle of the night. Ridge and I would open the curtains each morning to determine if there was enough for him to shovel. Finally, a few days ago, the snow began in earnest. I came home the other day and saw that our front looked like a snow shovel store. Aaron had pulled out all the different snow removal devices from our garage and was experimenting with each in turn. As you can see, we have gotten quite a bit of snow over the past few days. I am often told, however, that this is only the begining.

On Tuesday, if you remember, I only work half a day. Usually I come home and then walk to the pre-school to pick up Ridge. I waded through the ankle deep (or more) snow, looking at the other housed to compare our snow shoveling to theirs. Several people had told me that in Nishokoppe, it is not only the driveway and sidewalk that are shoveled. Instead, as much of the snow as possible is removed from the front. Of course, as I walked, I noticed that while this philosophy was apparent at some homes, it was certainly not the rule. There was something else that I noticed, too. Everyone I saw shoveling was a woman. When I thought about it, it made sense. Their husbands were at work, so the housewife must keep up with the shoveling. For those of you in Texas, perhaps I should point out that if one waits too long to shovel, you will throw your back out lifting heavy loads of snow. It's better to shovel often, as the snow is lighter then. So, here are all these women clearning snow, adding yet another task to their day. It's amazing to me how hard the women here (at least in rural Japan) work. Considering the work that goes into cooking, laundry, housecleaning, etcl, no one had better dare to say housewives don't have work to do.

Holt and Ridge, are of course delighted to have snow to play in. Ridge and Aaron already built their first snowman of the season. Today, Ridge was trying out some kiddie skis he found in the garage, sliding down the mound of snow that Aaron has shoveled out of the way of the drive. He also dug out one of the many sleds housed in our shed. Now, when the three guys walk to school in the morning, Aaron just pulls the boys in the sled. Apparently, this is what all the other parents do, unless they choose to drive. It's only about three blocks away, so we don't feel like we can justify driving, not to mention the fact that three days a week I have the car in the morning.

Here are some pictures for you:
Ridge and his snowman
Solo snowman
Our house at 8:30 a.m.
Our street
A view of the elementary school playground
A view from the second floor of the elementary school
Ridge bundled up for outside

Laundry

It never ceases to amaze me how specialized a person’s knowledge can become. The way you live your life and the conviences you have really make a difference in the odd bits of information you hold in your head. Let’s take laundry, for example.

As you have seen (or will see), our washer and dryer are little more than toys. Really, the dryer is only a suggestion. It is so ineffective that we rarely remember that it exists. Its main function now is to serve as a place for me to hide my towels. The towels, that is, that I begged my mother to send because I couldn’t stand the towels here. It’s always the little things that get to you, I suppose. Anyway, after they are dry, I often put them in the dryer so that they are readily available for when I get out of the shower. Our shower “room” is terribly lacking in places to hang towels and such, so the dryer is my solution.

The washer is almost a joke. You can see by the photo that it is tiny. It holds little more than two pairs of Aaron’s pants and a scattering of the boy’s clothes. We are never in danger of running up our propane bill heating water for this little guy. Cold water is our only choice. Of course, I didn’t know that until Kurata explained all the buttons to me upon our arrival to the house in August.

Washer and Dryer
Washer up Close

So, with the modern wonders of clothes cleaning technology left far behind us in Juneau, Aaron and I have needed to completely change the way we do laundry. In fact, we have had to change the way we even think about laundry. Here’s the New and Improved Felker Family Laundry Plan:

Sorting laundry is no longer limited to color. Since all our clothes are washed in cold water, bleeding is rarely a concern. Temperature, obviously, is no longer a factor either. So, instead, we sort clothes by (1)what will fit in the washer, (2)who needs clean underwear first, (3) what smells the worst, and (4) what we have room and time to dry. In the summer time, we have a lovely clothes rack to hang items from. I can’t call it a clothesline because it consists of two metal poles, which have two more metal poles hanging parallel to the ground. Hanging clothes out to dry in the summer didn’t phaze me much. I confess that I had begun to categorize the weather in terms of whether or not it was a good laundry day. The best laundry day is one with lots of sun and a light breeze. As winter approached, though, we learned that it was important to get a couple of loads out as early as possible to take full advantage of the sun. We also learned the hard way what happens when you leave the clothes out after dark. Do you have any idea just how wet clothes can become once the temperature drops and dew begins to form?

Winter has posed a whole new set of dilemmas. How exactly do we dry the sheets Aaron used for his massages? He used the dryer once, but it took about three hours and wasted tons of electricity. The solution: string up a line in the room we use as an office. The rest of the clothes then needed to be figured out. Usually, now that it is cold, we keep the main part of the house shut off from the extra rooms to conserve heat. So, clothes don’t dry well if we put them in one of the very, very cold rooms. The solution? We hang everything in the living room. Larger items can hang from the doorway between the living room and dining area. Smaller items can be placed on a rack and set in front of the heater.

Our “specialized knowledge” doesn’t stop there! Oh, no. We have also learned that because of this way of drying our clothes, we must do it (1) when we are out of the house for the day, or (2) after the boys have been put to bed. It seems that small children just simply cannot resist the temptation to play with hanging clothes. So, now, if we are planning a trip to Nayoro or Monbetsu, we try to wash and hang a load of clothes before we leave. If we leave the heater on low, the clothes in the doorway dry quite fast because the hot air gets stuck up by the ceiling and does a lovely job.

If you have ever line-dried your clothes, you may be familiar with a certain stiffness that accompanies this style of laundry. Many times I brought in shirts and pants that bore a striking resemblance to cardboard when I tried to fold them. Not exactly full of “Downy Softness,” you might say. Through trial and error, though, I have a foolproof fix. Each item of clothing must be vigorously shaken before being hung. Sometimes I must shake out Aaron’s shirts about six times – three while holding the top, and three more while holding the bottom – if I don’t want them to mimic a piece of plywood. Jeans must absolutely be shaken out several times, or they are a bear to try and put on later. Drying jeans takes a lot of forethought, as well. They take much longer to dry and we have to make sure there is plenty of prime drying space before washing any.

Drying Clothes
Drying Sheets

At first I thought it would bug me to have clothes hanging up all around me to dry. Surprisingly enough, though, I have become accustomed to it rather quickly. Sometimes its kind of nice to have the warn air made a little more humid by the drying clothes as the scent of laundry detergent fills the room. So long as Aaron doesn’t hang my underwear out to dry on the rod located in front of our door (in our glassed-in entryway), everything is fine. I shudder to think of the mailman (or my boss – who occasionally pops over to talk to one of us) having to navigate through my knickers to reach our front door!

Asahikawa

First, a word about this photo: here we have Ridge and Holt proudly showing off their early Christmas present from Anah and G-paw (Aaron's mother and her husband, Mike). They boys were very excited and can now be warm and toasty on their daily walks to and from pre-school!

Aaron, the boys, and I finally ventured beyond Nayoro and Monbetsu. In our search for Samuri Hair (the hair that Holt is wearning in a Halloween picture), we decided to extend our range of shopping to include Asahikawa. I'm afraid I'm a bit late with this post, as we went on our little jouney two Saturdays ago (November 26th).

Asahikawa, a town of about 300 thousand, is a 2 hour drive from Nishiokoppe. With sketchy directions that may or may not lead us to the Toys R Us and a map I found buried in a cabinet in the house, we set out Saturday morning. Our attempt to leave by 8:00 met with marginal success and we pulled away from our beloved Seicomart at 8:20. The boys had a bag of books and we prepared to tackle the snow road. Twenty minutes into the drive, Aaron was having serious doubts. The road was not plowed and the snow was smacking into the windshield in a rather unsettling fashion. In a last ditch effort to save our trip, Aaron pulled into a gas station to see if we had any other wiper blades in the trunk. Fortune was with us, and Aaron quickly set about replacing the blades. Before I knew it, he was joined by the white-gloved gas station attendants. Between the three of them, the blades were replaced and we resumed our trip with a heartfelt, “arigato gozaimasita” to the attendants. After Nayoro (a 40 minute drive), the road improved dramatically. The road was plowed and the snow was slowing down.

About half an hour out of Nayoro, we stopped for a bit of a break. Aaron pulled over into the parking lot of a mom-and-pop looking shop sporting a large Japanese pumpkin (“kobocha”). Inside we found clean restrooms (that seems to be the norm here), a cozy fire, and various treats made with kobocha. We visited briefly, bought some cookies with pumpkins seeds in them, and returned to our snowy car. Around eleven o’clock, we drove through a tunnel under a mountain and passed into the Asahikawa city limits. Guided by my scrounged map, we were able to quickly make our way to the shopping area featuring Toys R Us. When I first heard that there was a Toys R Us, I couldn’t believe it. I actually wrote it down on the chalkboard of the school I was currently at, just to make sure there wasn’t any sort of translation error. Nope. He said Toys R Us, and he meant it. So, into Toys R Us we ventured, accompanied by two young children. Sounds like a set up for disaster, right?

Actually, the boys did great. We found what we needed, poked around a bit, and left before there were too many, “I want’s”. Then we popped across the street and checked out the grocery store. It was on the expensive side, but also carried some items I had not been able to find elsewhere: fresh limes and lasagna noodles! Aaron took a picture of the Italian food section. After a little shopping, I drug the boys upstairs while Aaron paid. We were now nearing Holt’s threshold for patience and I needed to call in reinforcements, so to speak. We went to the arcade. It never fails to work. The boys are always mesmerized by the lights and a little overwhelmed by the sounds. It’s hard to hear in a Japanese arcade. You must compete with buzzers, loud music, flashing lights, and games the likes of which we do not have in the US. Ridge and Holt immediately found this train. For only 200 yen (less than $2), the train took them around twice. We stayed until my ears were ringing with the noise, then stepped across the hallway to drool over the newly released Harry Potter movie. Unfortunately, there is no way for us to see it. We can’t take the boys, we have no babysitter, and this – the nearest movie theater – is two hours away from Nishiokoppe. Aaron keeps telling me I’ll live even if I have to wait for the DVD.

As we now needed to feed our children in order to avoid having them turn on us, we loaded up and went to a resteraunt. Thanks to my little jaunt to Kitame with Kurata, I recognized this chair of eatery. A steakhouse, of sorts, Victoria was a nice change from homestyle Japanese food. Aaron ordered their largest steak. It weighed in at about eight ounces. Fortunately, our meal came with soup and salad, so we filled up with no problem. Holt happily ate nothing but an order of fries while Ridge tackled a small hamburger patty with a fried shrimp on the side. I am sorry that I didn’t take a photo of the salad bar. It had some of the usual American veggies: tomato, lettuce, and cucumber. It also included things like seaweed, pickled daikon radish, pickled bamboo shoots, and a variety of other items that I could not identify.

After eating, we drove a bit and found the pedestrian shopping area that I had seen on the map. Parking was a little confusing, though Ridge tired very hard to give his opinion on where Aaron should park. It went something like, “Aaron, you should park the car now. Aaron, I want to get out. Can we go there? Aaron, you should park the car. When are you going to park, Aaron? I want to get out. Can we get out now?” I think you get the picture.

So, we shopped a bit, found some expresso, and did a little “happy dance”. We have not had a mocha or latte in three months. Ridge and Holt were heartily admired by a trio of high school girls eager to practice their English with us. Holt was very obliging and giggled unendingly as he played chase with one of the girls who was clad in her grey tweed school uniform mini-skirt. They laughed and took pictures with their phones. We seemed to be very amusing to them.

We headed back sometime after dark. The weather was much better and the car was quiet, as the boys took pity on their parents and slept the whole way home. Before falling asleep, Ridge asked, “Will I still be asleep when we get home?”

The photos:
Italian Food Section
Ridge and Holt on the Train Ride
Kid's meal
Close-up of kid's meal - It's Big Boy!
Michelle and Holt
Colonel Sanders. KFC is pretty popular here!