Photos and One More Thing

Here are two shots I forgot to post after I took them. In early January, as you may remember, Nishiokoppe got a lot of snow. Aaron decided it would be fun if he and Ridge tried to make an igloo. It turned out to be more of a snow cave than an igloo, but they sure had fun. In these shots, Ridge and Holt and hanging out inside the "igloo". Holt didn't want me to take a picture. That's why he looks unhappy. Now, nearly a month later, the igloo has mostly collapsed in on itself, unfortunately.

And for a few bits of non-Japanese information: Holt is totally, completely potty trained - nighttime and everything! His language is really taking off and, thanks to Aaron's habit of talking to him using big words, he regularly uses non-3-year-oldish words like, "actually". Ridge is showing some exciting pre-reading skills, can write his name and Holt's, and is really interested in learning how to write his numbers. Most notably, with Ridge, is his sense of humor. He is very interested in telling jokes. Mind you, most of the time they are ridiculous and make no sense, but he sure thinks he is funny and often has a good laugh at his own jokes. Not a day goes by now without him saying, "Listen, I have a joke!" My mom sent him a card with two bulldogs dressed as sumo wrestlers (we'd been watching a lot of sumo). Ridge told me he had a joke about it. He then proceeded to talk about "wouldn't it be funny if they had a stick in the middle and the guy did that thing and they both threw salt and said, "Yosh!" He nearly fell off the couch laughing at himself. I wish I could capture that hearty laugh of his on tape. It’s a magical sound, pure joy.

Oh...he was basically describing what happens at the beginning of a sumo bout. The referee has a paddle (the stick), and the wrestlers throw salt into the ring each time they enter. It's part of the ritual. "Yosh," is sort of like the equivalent to "Go!", or "Heave ho!", or "Now!" depending on the situation.

A Visit to the Doctor and Milk

As we all know, winter is the season for sniffles, sneezes, and, in Ridge’s case, ear infections. With depressing regularity, it seems that each time Ridge hangs on to a stuffy head for more than a week or so, he ends up developing an ear infection. Such was the case on Friday morning.

Early on Friday, Ridge woke with the tell-tale, “OWW!” and accompanying ear-grasping that always hearkens an ear infection. We learned last year not to mess around, but to take him to the doctor immediately, as the pain generally worsens quickly. Of course, being in a strange country and needing to go to the doctor raises all kinds of questions. What if the clinic wasn’t open on Fridays? I didn’t know the hours. What if we ended up needing to go to Nayoro or Monbetsu, where there are hospitals? What kind of medicine could they give him? In Juneau, the doctor always gave us a pain killer that was to be put directly into Ridge’s ear, providing him with relief from the pain and us with relief from his very vocal misery. I felt sure that we would get no such medicine here. In Japan, even simple medicines such as aspirin or acetomenaphine are expensive and not at all common. There has been many a day when I have seen middle school students in obvious misery with a headache. Not once have I seen them take a pain killer. So, it was with a great amount of trepidation that I dressed and prepared for my day on Friday morning.

The previous night the middle school teachers held a party to celebrate the beginning of third term. In a mere 8 weeks they’re bound to have another party to celebrate the end of school. As per Japanese custom, two people drove the rest of the partygoers home so no one had to worry about drinking and driving. The party was at the school, about a twenty-minute walk from our house. It was easier, because of my schedule, to leave the car and take a ride home after the party, with the idea that I would walk to work in the morning.

My walk on Friday would take me, thankfully, past the clinic. I told Aaron I would call him upon arriving at work and let him know if the clinic was open, or if we would need to go to the city. It was early, not yet 8:00, when I walked past the clinic and was greeted by a woman just leaving. Confused, I asked her if the clinic opened, as the sign said, at 9:00. She confirmed this, and told me to go ahead and put my name on the list. Thank goodness I’ve learned enough Japanese that we could have the conversation, because she didn’t speak any English. So, though I don’t understand why the clinic was open (but not seeing patients), I went inside. Sure enough, there was the sign up sheet, beautifully blank. I put Ridge and Aaron down as first on the list.

At nine, I drove over from the middle school to meet Aaron. He and the boys were already there. Thankfully, Ridge was not in as much pain as he has been in before in similar situations. He and Holt were sitting on a raised platform topped with tatami mats watching TV. Keep in mind that as soon as we entered the clinic, we needed to remove our shoes and put on the slippers that are provided for indoor use. Well, Aaron didn’t. The way all the “public” slippers fit him is really comical. Usually, the back of the slipper reaches the middle of his foot, approximately. Anyway, I asked Aaron about paperwork and he said he had only needed to give the receptionist Ridge’s health card. We are covered by the National Health Insurance and the village and had been issued health cards within days of our arrival in Japan. About ten minutes after the hour, we were called back. Along with us, they called a woman who is an acquaintance of mine. She is also a pre-school mom and attends my Thursday morning English class. Apparently her 5-year old daughter had a cold. So, the seven of us (three adults and four kids) all trotted down the hallway into a large room. Inside the room were examine tables, which could apparently be divided from one another by curtains. Everything looked neat and clean, though there was an air of “oddness” about it. I chalked the strangeness up to the fact that we weren’t in America. The sick kids were weighed and measured. The healthy kids ran amok while the nurse grinned at their cuteness. The Felker family then stepped into another room with an exam table, a wall of book shelves, and a desk. Seated at the desk was the doctor, complete with what we might consider an old-fashioned lab coat. Even the nurse looked like she was straight from the early days of general hospital, with a stereotypical nurses hat perched on top of her perfect hair.

Aaron sat to talk to the doc, and the nurse cheerfully brought both boys suckers. The doctor speaks decent English, so I wasn’t too worried about communication. I first met him in September, so I was aware of his English ability. His wife regularly comes to my morning English lesson and helps me out a lot in the role of interpreter. They have three kids and one on the way. I don’t know how she does it!

After the usual interview regarding fever, etc (though no one took his temperature or otherwise checked his vitals), the doctor prepared to inspect Ridge’s ear. However, he didn’t use a lighted, magnifying tool that I am accustomed to seeing. Instead, he wore a band around his head with the largest reflector I have ever seen. You know the type; the big round metal disk with a hole in the middle? The nurse angled the light just so and he peered in. Then he took a wooden stick with some cotton the nurse wrapped around it and swabbed Ridge’s ear. It was all quite odd. The end result was the same, however. We were given a prescription for antibiotics. Despite explaining to him that we had pain killer we brought from the U.S., he also gave us a prescription for what amounted to Tylenol. I guess that’s how Japanese people get pain killers; they go to the doctor.

He explained how to take the medicine, how often, and sent us on our way. We waited back up front. After a very short time, we were called up. The receptionist, and what I guess was somebody like a pharmacist, gave us a bag with a couple of dozen small packets of orange power. In Japan, most medicine is in powder form. You mix it with water and drink it. We paid the bill – an amazing 1500 yen (that’s less than $15), and left. The clock read about 9:35. Even going to the doctor is a cultural experience. Ridge is doing much better and is handling the powdered medicine pretty well – so long as we mix in a tiny bit of Kool Aid!

That afternoon, I finished the day at the middle school. Usually, I finish my day at the shogakko, but my schedule was different today. Apparently, Friday afternoon was a “recreation day”, planned by the students. Kurata explained that once a year, the kids plan a fun activity for the whole school and they don’t have classes for the last hour of the day. Since I was present, I was able to join in an interesting game of “Ultimate Frisbee”. This game is similar to basket ball and soccer. The teams throw the Frisbee to teammates and are not allowed to walk/run with the Frisbee. To score a goal, someone must catch the Frisbee while standing in the goal area. It seems like a fun game. Now, try to picture playing this game in snow – about five inches worth! Needless to say, we weren’t moving very fast. After three rounds, the kids all played kick ball in the snow. That was really something to see!

When the games were done, we all returned inside to enjoy some hot chocolate. Hokkaido, and this area in particular, has a very large number of dairy farms. One middle school family lives on such a farm. Nami’s father gifted us with a huge pot (and I mean huge!) of fresh, raw milk, with which to make the hot chocolate. I was really excited to try raw milk. After making the hot chocolate, there was leftover milk. Apparently, word of my interest had gotten around, and the ladies making the chocolate poured the rest of the milk into a 2 liter plastic bottle for me to take home. I’m pretty sure the milk had been milked that morning. I was very excited to take it home Aaron. It was a real hit with him and Holt. I think Ridge decided it was too strange for him, but the rest of us thought it was wonderful. In fact, as of Sunday night, it’s all gone. Don’t worry, since the milk came from a small farm (instead of a huge factory farm), it was perfectly safe to drink even though it wasn’t pasteurized.

Sorry about no photos with today’s post. I’m going to bug Aaron to write a post about his and Ridge’s adventure with the onnis at the pre-school, and there are lots of good photos to go with that one. So, hang tight and I’ll post another entry soon.

Kid Pictures

Here's just a couple more photos for you. The first one is Ridge and Holt pretending to camp. They are using our futons, the shiki (a mattress that sits on top of the futon), and blankets. Ridge is "reading" to Holt.

The second one takes a bit of explanation. It's not a great shot, but I couldn't resist. Holt, now potty trained, often resists dressing in the morning after he goes potty. Therefore, he is naked. Despite the cold, it's a common occurence in our house right now. The one thing he is wearning is an "oni" mask. Onis are a kind of Japanese spirti/demon. February 4th is Setsubun, a spring-eve festival. I don't know much about it except that people dress as onis and other people throw peanuts at them. I'll write more about it later. Anyway, this is just a shot of Holt goofing around, naked, wearing a demon mask. Personally, I think it's hysterical; it sort of symbolizes the craziness of our home sometimes.

Here's a little link for more about Oni. The English is a little goofy, but understandable.
http://www2.kanawa.com/japan/critter.html#oni

Michelle Goes Skiing!

This photo is just a silly shot of Holt wearing, yet again, another non-hat item on his head. My youngest son seems to be obsessed with wearing things on his head. I can’t quite figure it out.

So, my big news for this post is that I am learning how to ski! What makes this even more amazing is that the man teaching me knows about fifteen words of English. Let me start at the beginning.

For a reason completely unclear to me (but I’ve come to accept that feeling, as it happens with such great frequency), all the teachers in the area went skiing on Friday afternoon. School ended early, with all the students going home at one o’clock. At one-thirty, we gathered at the local ski hill (I’ll have to take some photos for another post). Originally, I had been skeptical about my participation in this eveny. I’m a Texas girl. My daddy taught me how to water ski. Well, he tried, at least. I didn’t tell my Japanese friends, but I’ve never really been able to stay up out of the water for more than a few seconds. Shhhhh…. I talked with Kurata and discovered he can’t ski well either. I made it clear to him that I have never even touched a pair of skis, much less put them. He was very encouraging, and told me to come anyway, if I could. Past teachers from Juneau have left behind many things, including several sets of skis and boots. I decided that if I found boots in the garage that fit me, I would go. Sure enough, I found some dirty, cobwebby ski boots that I could slip into. My fate was sealed. We made a mad dash to Nayoro on Thursday night in an effort to acquire some snow pants for me. Friday morning, Aaron went online and researched which pair of skis would be the right length.

So, there I was, standing amidst was seemed to be seasoned skiers, with my borrowed ski gear and brand spanking new pants. Kurata wasn’t there yet (i.e. some one who speaks English), so I made up my mind to be positive and brave. Having decided this, my first goal was to figure out how to put on the blasted ski boots. It wasn’t as difficult as I thought, but then I tried to walk. I don’t think I ever appreciated my ankles until I was no longer able to move them. A few of my teacher friends snickered as I hobbled up to where everyone was gathering, trying to figure out how the heck to walk in my boots. Fortunately, everyone is really wonderful, supportive, and good-natured, so I felt comfortable, despite my near-immobility.

I found my “beginner” group and waited. I have to digress here a moment to mention what it’s like when Japanese people gather in a group to listen to some one, especially prior to some sort of event. I truly believe that they are completely incapable of standing in an unorganized group. Without even really thinking about it, much like birds migrating south, they slowly begin to organize themselves into lines and rows. My line was five people long. The one next to me was only three, so my friend Kaiko grabbed my coat and gently pushed me into the next line over so they would be even, I presume. The same arrangement “thing” happened just before we played mini-volleyball, too. Shortly after we assumed parade formation, one ski instructor spoke. Bowing and clapping. Then, one of the principals spoke (this was teachers from all three schools). More bowing and clapping. Then Mr. Kamaya spoke. More bowing and clapping. I sort of tuned the whole thing out. I think of it as a survival skill – if I try to understand everything, I’ll go nuts. Finally, it was time to warm up. That’s right, warm up – as a group. One teacher came to the front and led us in some stretching exercises. Except you can’t really do squatting and bending exercises in ski boots. I just laughed. Quietly, of course.

After our warm up, we broke into our groups and began. Kurata helped me put my skis on. Unfortunately, we discovered that after putting my skis on, I was now facing the wrong way. It was then that the hilarity of the situation really struck me. I was standing in skis, with my back to the instructor and the rest of the group, completely surrounded by a language I can’t understand. What was I doing?! We managed to get me turned around in between bouts of hysterical laughter and finally got down business. Kurata helped translate a little bit, but it was difficult.

We practiced turning in circles for a few minutes and then began walking sideways up the hill a little ways. Sounds easy, but try to imagine walking upstairs with brooms tied to your feet. I was doing okay, and only a little nervous about going up. Then the sliding started. At first it was just a little, and I was able to stop myself. But I was a little nervous because the group was outdistancing me and I wanted to catch up. As I tried to readjust a bit, I slid even more, slowly turning my body around until I was looking up the hill. This is not a good position to be in, by the way. One shouldn’t be facing uphill. When you face uphill, the next thing that happens is that it begins to move away from you quite quickly. Helpless to stop myself, I began to slide backwards down the hill. So, I was finally skiing, just not the right way. Fortunately I fell pretty quickly and one of the instructors came over to help me up. It was then that I learned that the fun is only beginning when you fall. Then you have to get up. After a great deal of heaving, pulling, and giggling (on my part), Mr. Itoh finally helped me up. Of course, ten seconds later I fell again. I just couldn’t seem to get control over my feet.

To make a long story short, Mr. Itoh ended up staying with me the entire time. He helped me learn how to “snow plow” (I taught him that word) down and walk my way back up. I only went down a very short slope. He soon figured out that I wasn’t kidding when I told everyone this was my first time. By the end of the first session, I could sort of stop myself. After our break, he apologized and let me know he needed to rejoin the other beginner group. He then gestured for me to continue practicing the snow plow move. I was more than happy to comply. The others tromped back up the hill to higher elevations. Me and my lonesome little self went back down a bit to practice stopping. As I tired, I stopped occasionally to watch the other teacher skiing. Often, one of them would ask me, “Daijobu?” – are you okay? I would wave and answer, yes, and would be answered with a cheer and “Gambate!” This word has multiple meanings in English: keep it up, good luck, go for it, etc. I think I scored a lot of points with my persistence.

After skiing, we re-convened at the hotel for a dinner party. Mr. Itoh took the opportunity to apologize to me for having me just go around and around. I assured him it was fine, but he seemed a little disappointed with himself. Later, during the “second party” in the bar, he continued to apologize. I think he was also a bit frustrated by his lack of English. He really doesn’t speak much. I think I can probably remember every English word he used. So, using Kurata to translate, he insisted that I come back on Sunday for another lesson. He was determined to teach me to turn. How could I refuse? Especially since other people have to pay for their lessons, and mine was free.

So, today, I spent another two hours on the slopes, learning how to ski from a man who only speaks Japanese. I must say, this was not a position I ever imagined I would find myself in. However, he is a good teacher, because now I can stop and turn left and right. Mostly. At least I didn’t fall today!

Everyone at dinner was asking about Aaron and Ridge skiing. I would like for Ridge to give it a try, and I think we can make it happen. However, there were many, “Ah…so…nai..” (ah, I see, nope) when I told the men what size shoe Aaron wears. He thinks that some of the skis in the garage may fit him, though. Maybe we will order some boots for him online. It is really seen as a family activity here in Nishiokoppe – skiing. One of the ski instructors was telling me that it is really important for him to see whole families skiing together. So, we will see. Maybe Aaron can get some Japanese ski lessons, too!

Asahiyama Zoo

Here's a picture I just got of Aaron dressed as Santa at the Komu in December. Thought y'all might enjoy it.

Students in Nishiokoppe have about three weeks of no classes during their Winter Break. During this time, as I have mentioned before, teachers are expected to work in some capacity. My job during these days has been to sit at my desk here at the Yakuba and amuse myself with origami, re-working some of the curriculum, writing blog posts, and reading News of the Weird online. However, I did in fact use some holiday time and have just returned from having over one week off. January 2nd through the 4th was a holiday anyway, so all I needed to do was take off Friday. Having decided it was high time for us to have a trip, we planned to return to Asahikawa on the 4th for an overnight stay.

With the help of my friend downstairs, Fusae, I was able to reserve a traditional style Japanese room in a downtown hotel. I had been doing some research, but finding websites in readable English was proving difficult. Finally, I admitted I needed help. I’m glad I asked! Fusae went right to the Japanese website for the hotel I had been looking at and discovered they had a package deal for families wanting to stay in Asahikawa overnight and visit the local zoo. We were able to get the room (apparently traditional rooms are more expensive), breakfast, and zoo tickets for about 14,000 yen. That’s less than $140. Not bad!

We loaded up with extra layers of clothing and long underwear, preparing for a cold, cold day out of doors. The temperature here has been hovering near –20 to –15 C, which is around zero degrees Fahrenheit. The situation was made more challenging by the fact that Holt had entered the realm of potty training for good as of his third birthday. I had been building his anticipation and purchased Thomas the Tank Engine briefs in celebration of this momentous event. Unfortunately, we quickly went through four pairs of underwear on the first day. Ever determined, though, I packed six pairs of pants/underwear, absolutely refusing to return to diapers even for the trip.

The drive to Asahikawa was lovely, with blue skies and dry underwear. An already pleasant situation was improved with a pit stop at Colin’s house in Shibetsu, about an hour out of Asahikawa and 90 minutes from Nishiokoppe. Being single and having a decent salary, Colin had acquired many electronic toys, one of which he no longer needed and was passing along to us: an MP3 transmitter. By plugging this little jewel into our MP3 player, we could now listen to music using our car radio (we have no CD or tape player in the car – only a radio which is pretty useless here in the country). How lovely to have music with which we could drown out the bickering of our little darling boys. Two and a half hours is a long time in the car for anyone under the age of 10, I think.

We arrived in Asahikawa with no problem, and after a bit of frantic circling were finally able to locate our hotel. The receptionist knew immediately which reservation we were and demonstrated a surprising amount of English. We were almost to our room when Holt finally had his first accident of the day. I thought he did pretty well, though! The room was lovely, complete with tatami floors and futon to sleep on. I wanted the traditional room because it provides more room for the boys to tromp around in.

Entryway to our room
View of room with futons
View of room, 2

After a simple lunch and an unwilling nap, we set out in search of the City of Gold; or perhaps I should be honest and say the Shop of Starbucks. I had heard that there was a huge mall in Asahikawa, which contained a Starbucks. With directions from our ever-so-friendly receptionist, Aaron easily navigated his way to Aeon, the biggest mall I have seen since being in Texas this summer. The lights and noises quickly overwhelmed us. The boys were almost immediately over-stimulated and began to practically run circles around us. Fortunately, we managed to rein them in a bit as we began to explore.

I nearly jumped for joy when I spied the Starbucks on the lower level. Ridge and Holt clamored for ‘steamers’ (steamed milk with vanilla syrup), and Aaron went off to procure our java. Afterwards, I then stumbled across the western food store Colin had been telling me about. I’ve never been so delighted to see Spam and cans of pork –and-beans. I didn’t buy any, but they were a familiar sight. I did, however, spend a ridiculous amount of money on some Thai and Mexican food – about 7,000 yen worth.

Exhausted, we finally returned to our hotel room well after 9:00, and slept soundly until morning. Then we rose and dressed in our multiple layers to prepare for spending the day outside. Fortune was with us and again, we had beautiful blue skies.

The Asahiyama Zoo is purported to be one of the best zoos in Japan, if not the best. We had heard tales of the twice-daily penguin walks, the amazing polar bear enclosure, and unique seal exhibit. Overall, the zoo was nice enough, but I’m afraid that the Ft. Worth and San Antonio zoos have spoiled me.

Here is a photo of the entrance. The amusement park in the background is part of the zoo, but closed in the winter for obvious reasons.

Entrance to zoo

We arrived just in time for the first penguin walk, but had a very hard time getting a good view. Each day, the penguins are taken on a walk around the park in order that they might exercise a bit. Their path, as you can see, is lined with eager tourists waiting to catch a glimpse. In this photo, it might take you a minute to notice where the penguins are; there were not as many as I had expected, perhaps a dozen or so.

Penguin walk

After watching the penguins waddle by, we found the polar bear exhibit. “Crowded” seemed to be the word for the day, and we had an equally difficult time finding a good viewing place from which to watch the polar bear feeding time. The outside windows had ice frozen to them on the inner part, obscuring the view. On the inside of the building, there were so many people we could barely move. I took this as an opportunity to explain to my oldest son that there are times when it is okay to push your way past people, and I encouraged him to weasel his way up to the front so he could see. Reluctant at first, he soon became intrigued enough by the diving bears that he wormed his way up to the glass. This badly focused photo is of the bear swimming underwater as he chases the fish the handlers are throwing into the enclosure.

Swimming polar bear

We next turned our attention to the seal enclosure. Same story as before: we couldn’t see the feeding for all the other people. Inside, though, the display is arranged so you can watch the seals swimming around and through a vertical tube. The entire enclosure is designed to maximize the audience’s ability to view the animals swimming. These two photos are very out of focus. The seal was moving too fast through the tube, but I had to try. It was quite intoxicating to be able to see them up so close. Still, I was a little saddened by how small all the enclosures were.
Seal enclosure
Seal going down
Seal going up

We made our way around the rest of the zoo, trying to stay warm. Most enclosures were little more than fancy cages, unfortunately. Many of the cages were empty due to it being winter. I think they have a facility inside somewhere that allows them to over-winter animals that can’t handle the cold. Available for viewing, though, were some snow leopards, a black panther, a lion, a local variety of bear, deer, caribou, elk, a few kinds of birds, snow monkeys, and a few kinds of domesticated animals – including a dog on display and available for petting.

Black panther, out of focus
Standing below the leopards
Ridge, with Asahikawa in the background
Lots and lots of guinea pigs!


It was a good trip, and I’m glad that we went, but I confess it made me long for an American zoo.

Holt Turns 3!

Sometimes I find that the holiday season is almost too much for me to handle. We celebrate Solstice, then Christmas, Ridge’s birthday, New Year’s, and finally, Holt’s birthday. There’s so much planning and so many activities that at time it can become overwhelming. This year, however, I found myself quite grateful for the short time span separating the boys’ birthdays. Holt had a hard time on Ridge’s special day, and we kept telling him that his birthday was coming soon. Fortunately, it was only a week away and he was very excited.

Owing to my sons’ recent obsession with a Japanese animation hero, Anpanman, I made a cake for Holt, at his request, in the image of this unusual hero. Anpan is a kind of bread. Our hero has this bread as a head. His friends include such characters as Currypan Man (‘pan’ is the Japanese word for bread), Cremepan Man, Melonpan-chan (chan is used for girls similar to the way ‘san’ is used with adults), and so on. Here's a couple of links, in case I've peaked your curiosity.
Visit Anpanland
More on Anpanman
Unfortunately, we’ve had to ban the boys from watching it for now due to an increase in violent behavior on their part. But I digress.

So, here are a few photos of the cake, birthday ring, and Holt blowing out his candles. That must be every child’s favorite part, for it is certainly a task attacked with relish. For lunch we had Kraft macaroni and cheese and peanut butter sandwiches. This was the first peanut butter (non-Japanese, which doesn’t really count) the kids had eaten in nearly four months. They were in heaven. Not a nutritious lunch by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s a birthday, so we just threw caution to the wind.

The Table
AnPanMan cake - I had to bake it in a pie plate, as round cake pans are hard to come by.
Blowing out candles

I’ve also included a photo of the package of bread I bought for sandwiches. Usually, bread is sliced to approximately the same thickness as that used for Texas toast. I didn’t want that much, so managed to procure this ‘sandwich bread’ in all its over-packaged-glory.

a package of 'sandwich bread'

The night before Holt’s birthday, we had an unexpected visitor in the form of Mrs. Tao. Mr. and Mrs. Tao own our daily haunt, Seicomart, a local grocery store, and a gas station. Mr. Tao is a prominent member of the village community and quite a character. She had called to invite us to dinner at their house. My guess as to why she came in person is that using the telephone is extremely difficult when two people do not speak each other’s language very well. We arranged to visit them on the following night, the evening of Holt’s birthday. With Holt only being 3, and not having the energy for a repeat visit from Ryuya, I had purposely planned for his birthday to be only family, so we were free to go over to the Tao’s house for dinner.

We had a nice meal, though the boys refused to eat anything but sugar (a situation that has been occurring repeatedly when we go to a person’s house for dinner, and one that I have now remedied). Mrs. Tao bought small pieces of cake for the boys and candles for Holt to blow out; a sweet gesture, I thought. We had a large bamboo bowl/platter with sushi rice and toppings, some venison, a nice green salad, and other small side dishes. For the first time since arriving in Japan, we sat at a table with chairs while dining in someone else’s home. I was quite surprised, and did not know if it was merely for our benefit. Regardless, we had a lovely time and thoroughly enjoyed the venison.

Welcome to 2006

Since having children, our New Year’s Eves have become much more mundane. This one proved to be the same, despite living in a foreign country. I am not complaining in the least, however. Sometimes it is important to just sit quietly with your spouse, with no small bodies wedged in between you, and watch very silly Japanese television. Before telling you more about Japanese New Year’s traditions, though, allow me to indulge myself by describing to you the show which we found ourselves so fascinated by.

I cannot begin to explain Japanese comedians at all, nor do I ever expect I will be able to. Perhaps only a thorough understanding of Japanese culture would make this possible. Comedy here comes in many, many forms, some of which defy even the smallest attempt at description. However, some forms of humor, I think, are more universal, and laughing at a strangely dressed man attempting a ridiculous feat of courage falls into that category. Not understanding much Japanese, we, of course, we left to our own explanations for why this man was dressed the way he was and why he was determined to stop a rolling ball of fire at the stroke of midnight. I suppose it was all in the name of entertainment.

The actor, dressed in a loincloth and samurai hair, was emphatically explaining his plan to the onlookers and television personalities gathered around. A huge, perhaps 200ft dragon, had been constructed. At the top of the tower around which the dragon was wound, there was a ramp, with a gold ball of indeterminate material poised at the brink. The plan, apparently, involved the actor shooting the ball with a flaming arrow and them using his body to stop the flaming “dragon ball”. I was under the impression this would begin at midnight. As the 20-minute count down commenced, hula dancers for some reason entertained us. The actor then disrobed (revealing the loin cloth) and proudly displayed the hair on his chest. Japanese men are not really known for their chest hair. Turns out that the actor had plucked some hairs from Kotoshu, a prominent non-Japanese sumo wrestler, and glued them to his chest. He then pranced around a bit, preparing and spouting Japanese that we couldn’t understand. Finally, shivering and nearly blue, he shot the arrow at the ball. The arrow flew about 10ft and then disappeared. Oops. So, not to be thwarted, the dragon itself was set aflame. By this time, it was about 5 after midnight. For a while, Aaron and I thought the dragon would not burn all the way up, but it did. When the ‘dragon ball’ finally burst into flame, our luckless hero, now garbed in a fireproof suit, stood bravely in its path as it rolled down the ramp; then he promptly jumped out of the way and ran screaming like a banshee. The show wasn’t over at this point, but we finally went to bed. Nice way to spend New Year’s Eve, eh?

Traditionally, Japanese people gather to make soba, drink, and many visit the local shrine at midnight. Before and after January 1, for about a week in either direction, most houses arrange Shinto shrines with offerings of fruit and food. The day of January 1 is a day of eating pre-prepared food, so as to give the women a break from cooking. They still have to do the dishes, though. I asked.

We had been invited to Mr. Kamaya’s house for lunch on New Year’s Day. The table, as usual, was laid out beautifully, with a large amount of unusual-looking food. Aaron sat at the men’s end and the boys and I sat next to Mrs. Kamaya and their daughter. They explained the meaning of some of the foods to me. Much like we eat black-eyed peas for good luck, they eat certain dishes that are symbolic: small fish for fertility, black beans for luck, and a bit of seaweed wrapped fish, whose meaning I am not sure of. I have included some pictures of some of the food. I’m afraid I can’t explain what everything is. As my contribution, though, I made this apple pie. Ridge, feeling shy and overwhelmed with the strange food, refused to eat anything but a bit of bread. Without me noticing, Mrs. Kamaya cut him a huge piece of pie, which he happily devoured. Later, when we all had pie after the meal, he ate another huge piece. It’s hard to keep the sugar out of him when we are visiting other people.

Various goodies
A huge shrimp, complete with eggs within its legs
Another view of the shrimp, for perspective, that's a AA battery below it.
More goodies
Another shot of some of the goodies. The colorful items are sweet and made of mochi, maybe.
My apple pie - my fourth to cook in less than four weeks

We played some games with the Kamaya’s son. He is studying Japanese history at a university some distance away. Then Mr. Kamaya got out the materials for calligraphy and we all tried our hand at writing some things. Finally, though, my nap-less children could behave no longer and I had to take them home.

On a last note, just a quick word on the photo up on top of the post. During various times throught the year, several of the middle school boys play the part of Shishima, a lion who dances and brings good luck. He was making the rounds shortly after January first. They came into the genkan, did a short little dance (while Ridge and Holt hid, terrified), and we gave them a small donation in a special envelope just for the occasion.