Enchilada Cooking Class

This is a shot of Holt at Komu. He was pretending to look "mean".

As you might recall, in December, I made apple pie with one of my adult education classes (referred to as “eikawa” class). We met at the middle school and used the kitchen upstairs. It was quite nice, if not a little stressful for me. Having been some number of weeks since the last cooking class, I decided it was time for my Thursday morning eikawa class to cook again.

They always want something, “very American.” After a great deal of thought and consideration, I decided the most “American” food was probably casserole of one kind or another. However, casserole isn’t necessarily very exciting and not my first choice. My answer was to come to class with a list of dishes we could cook. Most of the class was taken up with my explanations of what they were and what would be involved. In the end, they chose enchiladas. It was agreed that all eight women would pitch in 1500 yen and I would take care of procuring the food. Many of the ingredients required an Internet store, so I had to plan well in advance. Typically, it takes a week for food I order to arrive. I also took the liberty to order extras, so I could present them with a “typical” enchilada plate/meal.

The menu:
Chicken enchiladas with green (tomatillo) sauce
Mexican rice
Refried beans
Tortilla Soup (thank you Lupe for the wonderful recipe!)

I had to reassure the ladies that we would not cook spicy food. I also volunteered to do a small demonstration on how to make corn tortillas. Quite a full morning, don’t you agree?

I arrived at the school at 9:00 lugging the second of my large boxes of food. I had enough ingredients to make fifty enchiladas. We wanted to make enough for everyone to take a bit home. My first task was to begin cooking the chicken, so I immediately filled a large pot with about 3 kilos of chicken tenders, garlic, and onions. Before long, the kitchen smelled great, and I felt at home with such a familiar smell. The ladies all commented on it when they began arriving at 10:00. They gathered around and talked excitedly about the pot of chicken, the raw rice I had fried in preparation for the Mexican rice, and the other miscellaneous ingredients. I think I understood about 1% of what they were chattering about. I’m used to it, though. Thank goodness Simon-san, the doctor’s wife came and was able to translate my directions.

The next order of business was to decide on whether to make one large batch of filling or five separate batches. Thankfully, they chose to all work together. This made things go expediently. Soon I had one group of women shredding chicken and another chopping onions, garlic, and green chilies. It was amazing to watch them shred. Japanese women can chop, dice, and mince like professional chefs. Once the veggies were chopped, everyone helped shred chicken and I moved over to start sautéing the onions and garlic. It took about four pans to get it all done, but oh what a wonderful aroma! Two women took over cooking the veggies (we only had two pans) and I wandered the room checking on things. After putting the rice on to cook, I prepped the beans (which translates to “I found someone to open the can for me using a very old-fashioned can opener with no handle”). I also added the necessary ingredients to the chicken broth, soon to become tortilla soup.

Once everything was prepared, I mixed the filling together and marveled at the enormous bowl of chicken we had. The ladies watched, making their little noises of surprise in a very Japanese way. Moving to another table, I showed them how to dip the tortilla in sauce, fill it, roll it up in the pan, and move to the next tortilla. We had a tad bit of difficulty with the tortillas being too cold, but I used it as a teachable moment and we managed to use the oven/microwaves to heat the tortillas. Once I had filled a small pan, added the cheese and sauce topping (we used jarred sauce – it was too easy to pass up), I showed them the final product. I was answered with those little noises they make, again. It would be futile for me to attempt a description. You have to hear them to understand how different they sound. Anyway, I then turned then loose on the rest of the enchiladas and proceeded to check on all five of the ovens. Once the last of the enchiladas were rolled and the ovens were full, I transitioned into tortilla making. I have no idea what they were saying when I pulled out the cast iron skilled we are so thankful to have found in the house when we arrived, but it was definitely noteworthy. I made a few tortillas, and then let them practice a little. After we had a few, I cut them into strips and fried them up, all the while talking about the marvels of corn tortillas and all the wonderful things you can make with them. They were really tickled when I slapped two tortillas together with some Colby cheese in the middle and heated it in the skillet. I sliced it into triangles and they just loved it!

Food Preparation
More food preparation

The food had all finished cooking by now, with just an oven or two finishing up the remaining enchiladas. I was cleaning up a bit when I noticed that a small group of women were looking at my pot of beans, tortilla soup, and Mexican rice with a rather confused look on their faces. I quickly realized they were trying to figure out how all three dishes related to each other. “Did they need to put the beans or rice into the soup,” one face seemed to say. So of course I did the logical thing. I fixed a plate with beans, rice, enchiladas, and put some soup into a bowl. Viola! “Oh!! One dish meal!! They exclaimed excitedly. Yes, I suppose that putting your food all on one plate is deserving of some notoriety here in the “Land-of-food-that-shall-not-touch-each-other-and-must-be-served-in-separate-dishes”. Next thing I know, they’ve plated everything just like I did, set a table with forks or spoons, depending on what they could find, and put out hot mugs of black tea someone had brought. Others had brought some sweets for dessert. We then sat to eat. I feel that everyone really did like it and they weren’t just trying to save my feelings. Several women had more soup, and one of them asked if she could take the leftovers home. Everyone had enough enchiladas to take home. One woman said she liked the Mexican rice, but she just knew that her husband would never eat it. The following day, Chihiro told Aaron (at the pre-school) that her husband refused to eat the enchiladas. She thought maybe it was the corn smell.

The table

On a final note, here's a couple of shots of the boys at Komu. The second one is a ten second video file.

Holt on the Train on the Merry-go-round
Peddling the merry-go-round

Fondue and Oodles of Photos

This is a photograph of a picture Ridge drew this weekend. I liked it so much I thought I would share it. Watching his drawings become more and more sophisticated is fascinating. This is one of the first drawings that is an actual ‘scene’ of something, instead of just little bits and pieces of drawings thrown together.

Well, Saturday was fondue night. I had picked up a fonde pot in Asahikawa on our last trip and I’ve been dying to try it out. Unfortunately, I couldn’t get my hands on any really good swiss cheese. Instead, I used several bags of what they call “fondue cheese”. This is a mild swiss cheese and a package of cornstarch. I was able to find some other ingredients for a traditional swiss cheese fondue, though, and there were no complaints. As you can see from the photos, Ridge was more than happy to dip things into the cheese using my fondue fork. In this shot, you can see Aaron, Mr. Mikake (he’s the assistant manager of the hotel and a very interesting guy), Nao (Mr. Usui), and Colin.

Ridge 'fonduing'
Ridge and Holt goofing off

The “Cheese Fest,” as Colin called it, was quite a treat, and we followed it with too much chocolate. Yummy!

Sunday we spent a little time at the Komu and I took some shots of the kids.

Here is Ridge, having a mellow time in the Puzzle Room playing with blocks. Blocks.jpg

One of the only ways I can get Holt to stand still for a picture these days it to holler at him to be still and show me his teeth. The only problem is that this is what I then end up with: Mr. Teeth

Here’s a couple of shots of Holt playing in and around the big climbing horse. I love this thing! Inside the horse , Outside the horse

March 3rd is “Hina Matsuri”, which means “Doll Festival”. It’s a way to celebrate the coming of Spring. I’ll post a better explanation later. These next three pictures are shots of a display at the entrance of the Komu. All the dolls are hand made.

Display
Close-up 1
Close-up 2

Michelle's Parenting Ramblings

As I've mentioned before, American parenting is really different from Japanese parenting. Japanese children, from our perspective and from what we have read, are really pampered. Aggression from boys is not only tolerated, but also often encouraged. Tantrums are sometimes met with laughter, and I don't think I've ever seen a Japanese child punished. At pre-school, the boys are allowed to fight with swords, as long as they hit each other gently. It's not at all unusual to see very small children playing with very realistic-looking toy guns. Strangers give children candy all the time. It's really a different world.

At some point in a child's life, things change. I know they do, because the middle school students don't act like spoiled brats. They are all quite pleasant and I really enjoy each and every one of them. So what happens? I'm not sure. I think there is just something about the way Japanese culture/society is that eventually teaches children what kind of behavior is expected and what behaviors are not going to be tolerated. This is not a phenomenon, I think, present in American culture. Aaron and I feel quite strongly that if we don’t teach Ridge and Holt what is appropriate behavior, starting now, then nobody else will.

I’ve had several conversations with folks here about parenting and children. On multiple occasions, we have been told that we are very “strict”. Hopefully this is not meant as a negative comment; I find it difficult to believe anyone would openly criticize us. Twice, these comments have followed a situation where I had a disagreement with Ridge or Holt regarding what I considered rude behavior.

For example, if Ridge is going to refuse to say thank you when people give him treats during my adult English class, then he will not be allowed to come. If Holt throws juice across a dinner table and nearly hits the Mayor of the village, he will not be allowed to continue sitting at the table. Makes sense, don’t you think? Personally, I think Aaron and I are pretty middle-of-the-road disciplinarians. In fact, sometimes we are probably more lax than others of our generation or the generations before us. Upon witnessing the above-mentioned behaviors, an American mother might empathize with me, or, if she is a friend, offer an example from her own life and how she dealt with it. Non-parent Americans might especially expect me to “whip those kids into shape”. However, here in Japan, my handling of those situations resulted in surprised reactions. In fact, I may have made a couple of people uncomfortable because of how I was talking sternly to Ridge, letting him know it’s not okay to ignore people when they give him a treat. I think Japanese parents let these things slide a lot more than we do. They were so surprised by my behavior that I think they must parent a great deal differently.

Saturday involved a situation where Ridge was chasing the love of his life, Aiko, with the wooden sword we gave him for his birthday. Mind you, that sword came with certain rules, one of them being, “Don’t chase/hit/attack other people with the sword or it will go to time-out”. Not only was he breaking the rule, he was frightening a guest in our house, which is a big ‘no-no’ in our home. Aaron and I both proceeded to address the situation. Ridge began to cry and basically fall apart in front of the other mothers. I began to feel uncomfortable, but not because of Ridge’s behavior, as I would have been in the U.S. No, I was uncomfortable because Aaron and I were attempting to deal with Ridge’s behavior in a situation that would probably be ignored by a Japanese parent. I think it takes a lot of courage for us to parent the way we think best in a country where things are so different. Sometimes I feel like an ogre.

Anyway, Ridge was so upset because he insisted his teacher was teaching him to hit people gently with the sword. I found myself in a situation that was very much the reverse of what one would find in the States: “Ridge, it might be okay to hit gently at school…and I believe that you can be gentle….but in our house we have different rules. In our house, you cannot hit or chase people with your sword.” Not a statement I ever thought I would make. Most kindergarten teachers that I know really discourage aggressive play-fighting in their rooms.

I’ve also explained to others why we don’t let the boys play with toy guns. Here in Japan, there are no rules like the ones in the U.S. dictating that toys guns must NOT look real. I told my adult English class (eikawa class) that many children in America have been killed accidentally, when a police officer or other person thought the child was threatening them with a real gun. It’s disturbing to me to see three-year olds pretending to shoot each other with realistic-looking hand guns. But, gun ownership is a very, very rare thing here, and handguns are pretty much illegal for the general public. Thus, children are rarely exposed to real guns, and the danger of playing with them is minimal. I had to explain to my eikawa class that many children in the U.S. are killed as a result of playing with guns. Since Aaron and I own guns, we feel strongly that the boys need to understand that guns are tools, not toys. We take gun safety education very seriously. So, I nearly had a heart attack when Holt came home from Ruuya’s house one day with a noisy toy semi-automatic machine gun. It quickly found a home in the topmost part of our closet!

Before we came to Nishiokoppe, we read books and books about the food, customs, social interactions, language, etc. We knew that there were many things for which we could not prepare ourselves and that only time could do that. Parenting, though, took me by surprise. I never thought it would be such an amazing challenge to be a family in another country.

Toilet Angst

Have I mentioned lately how much I dislike traditional Japanese toilets? I just came back from the bathroom and thought I would vent a little. I’m spending my afternoon here in the Yakuba, which, unfortunately, only has Japanese toilets. In the warmer weather, I would simply walk across the street to my house and enjoy the comforts of a western-style potty. Now it’s just too cold. I don’t want to have to bundle up just to go to the bathroom. If you always hated camping due to the lack of toileting facilities, try living in a country where the only positive thing to say is that at least I don’t have to find a bush; I can close a door. Most places have at least one tall potty. It’s usually at the back of the restroom, or in the one marked for wheelchair access (wow…handicapped accessibility – or lack thereof – is a whole ‘nother post!). Unfortunately, sometimes a Japanese toilet is simply unavoidable. It’s a unique experience for the kids, too. Even they cannot escape the toilet in the floor. Once, Holt accidentally stepped in the toilet in the men’s room. Fortunately it was before it had been used. On the up side, most of the tall toilets have heated seats. That’s a big treat during the wintertime believe me! I’m working hard to convince Aaron that we will NOT be bringing back a heated toilet seat!

Little Gem

Here is a quick little gem courtesy of Holt. As he and Ridge were playing the other night, Holt handed an item to Ridge. He said to his older brother:

"Ridge, can you carry this? I can't because it's too hard because I'm sad because I don't want to carry it."

Gotta love that 3 year old logic!

Monbetsu no Yuki Matsuri (Monbetsu's Snow Festival)

Nearly every day now, my poor little boy asks me when the grass is going to come back. Ridge is desperate to ride his bike up and down the street. He can't understand my reasoning for him not being allowed to ride on the snow and ice. Go figure. The snow continues falling, the wind continues blowing, and we likely won't see the end of winter for yet another six weeks or so. I read somewhere that the cherry blossoms appear in Okinawa in February, but Hokkaido doesn't bloom until May.

Still, the snow has some good points. For example, this weekend was 'snow festival' weekend. Sapporo, the largest city on Hokkaido, has a mega-ice festival every year. In copy cat fashion, many other towns on the island celebrate winter with their own ice festivals. We chose to try out the festivities in Monbetsu, yesterday.

Upon leaving Nishiokoppe, the sky was clear and blue, and the weather some what "warm". Not thinking clearly, we didn't bring all of our cold weather gear as we set out. Forty-five minutes later, we arrived in Monbetsu to blowing wind and a major drop in temperature. The boys were comfortable in their coats, but Aaron hadn't brought his jacket and I neglected to bring gloves. Needless to say, we didn't stay long. It was unfortunate, as the sculptures were wonderful. The boys enjoyed looking at them and we snagged a few hot snacks from the food vendors, but the wind was truly icy. I did manage to get some photos, though, despite frozen fingers.

At one of the entrances

Ridge took this shot of Aaron and me in the 'ice chapel'

The main stage; designed to look like one of the big government buildings on the big island

This is "Year of the Dog", so this sculpture is a dog with a traditonal rope around his neck; it's a Shinto thing

Another shot of the main stage. There's little kids up there trying to score a goal past the giant monkey to win a prize.

Ridge and Holt going down an ice slide


It was actually quite the eventful weekend. Friday night, we invited the Kamaya family over for dinner. Having been to their house on three occasions, I felt it was time to have them to our house. I repeated my Italian meal from November: lasagna, fresh foccacia (courtesy of my awesome baker-husband), and other assorted goodies. I think the lasagna turned out really well this time. Instead of using jarred sauce (which I get from internet shopping), I made my own earlier in the week. Another ingredient that is consistently yummy is the ricotta that we use. About twenty minutes out of town is a dairy farm named, "North Plains Farm". They sell many of their own dairy products in addition to running a small restaurant. They have wonderfully fresh ricotta that I always use when making lasagna. I suspect that the package I bought had been made only two or three days before my purchase.

The evening was mellow. Mr. Kamaya came with his wife and grown daughter. The boys enjoy their company, and vice-versa. We set up the computer and sifted through five or so years of digital pictures. The Japanese people really seem to enjoy looking at other people's pictures. I think Mr. Kamaya, while looking at our Juneau photos, and began brainstorming the idea of Aaron doing a 20-minute slide presentation. When I began to second the idea, Aaron began to quietly, but energetically, waved his hand at me behind his back. I got the message. I think after the experience with having to give a speech on Coming of Age Day, Aaron would appreciate a break from public speaking. I can understand completely; it's stressful.

The next morning, I had a couple of moms come over with their kids. The original plan, formulated about three weeks ago, had been for two mothers, Chihiro and Tisuko, to come over and show me how to make a couple of dishes I mentioned I liked. I had to cancel the original date so we could go to Shibetsu and hang out with a couple of other English speakers. Then, because of a schedule conflict, it turned out the one of moms who speaks good English, couldn't come. I think Chihiro and Tisuko were nervous about coming over without Simono-san there to translate. However, I had told Ridge that Aiko and her brother were coming over on Saturday. Aiko's mother is Tisuko (Japanese names are hard to keep track of, aren't they?). I ended up asking them to come over anyway so the kids could play. Saturday morning, Chihiro came over with her daughter, Hibiki, and with Aiko. Turns out that Aiko's little brother had a fever, so Tisuko had to stay home. After a few confusing minutes, Chihiro managed to communicate to me that she had invited Mrs. Kurata and her son to come over (she is the wife of the English teacher that I work with at the middle school). Surprise! I guess Chihiro was nervous about being the only guest, and she figured it would be okay with me to invite another mom. Of course, she was right; I didn't mind a bit. I thought it was funny, though. We hung out for a bit and chatted and ate. The kids played pretty well. It was an interesting parenting experience, but that’s another blog post for another day.

Just in Time for Valentine's Day

I think this is it, folks. My little boy has spent two days now talking about his new friend. I could be wrong, but it seems to me that Ridge has fallen in love with an adorable little girl named Aiko.

Yesterday, I came home, and as usual, Ridge was plopped in front of the heater having just woken from his nap. He asked me, “Mommy, can I tell you a little something that’s kinda long?”

Sure, go for it..

He then began narrating his morning at the pre-school. Ridge told me all about who Aiko was and how they didn’t play much before today.

“I think Aiko saw how strong I am and how big my muscles show through my shirt,” he declared, pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to make a small ‘muscle mountain’. “Because I’m really big and I can really keep her safe. She’s sooo small!” He then said she had run up to him saying, “Taskete, taskete, Ridgee! (Help me, help me! They pronounce the‘d’ in his name, and make the ‘e’ long.) I guess Ruuya and some others were harassing her, so she ran and hid behind Ridge.

“So I went up to Ruuya and I said, ‘hitting Aiko – dame! (stop it)’,” Ridge continued. He made an ‘x’ with his arms, which is what Japanese people do when they say something like, ‘stop it’.

Ridge then told me in great detail how he explained to Ruuya that Ridge would have to fight him if Ruuya kept hitting Aiko. The rest of the evening he talked about playing with her, keeping her safe, and how she needs his help. This morning he said, “I hope Aiko remembers we were playing together yesterday.”

At nap time today, I caught him looking at something under the covers. I angrily snatched it away, frustrated that he was continuing to distract himself away from nap. He nearly fell apart. Crying, he insisted I give it back immediately. “It’s just so special to me!!! It’s from Aiko!!” he bawled. Of course, I gave it back right away and apologized. He refolded it and returned it to his pocket. Later, I convinced him to let me see it. The note was written on a plain postcard, with drawings in orange crayon. An adult had written in English, in small letters on the bottom, “I want to play with u”. It was the most precious thing I’ve seen in ages. Ridge said, “Just looking at this makes a tear come to my eye. Not because I’m sad or anything, but just because it’s so special to me.”

Now, that just brings a tear to my eye!

Photos of the Boys

As promised, here's a few shots of the kids. This one is of the boys just being plain silly. Holt is wearing an Oni mask/hat that Ridge's teacher made for Holt. They like to keep him inlcuded in things.

Here's Ridge with his card from Grandma and Grandpa. Holt has one too, but he didn't want to pose for me.

Ridge and Holt are playing "Heros"

Check out this movie file. Ridge has been working very hard to learn how to whistle. What do you think?

I'm a Slacker...

I know, I know...I've been a blog slacker lately. My photos have been few and far between. I promise to post some photos soon. I have a funny mpg file of Ridge whistling. He's been practicing like crazy! I'll try and get some visual stuff up in the next day or two. I'm still bugging Aaron to write the blog about the Oni party!

Being a Teacher in Japan

I’ve learned a few interesting tidbits about what it’s like to be a teacher in Japan. I thought I would share a few.

Teacher education: in order to become an elementary teacher in Japan, you must be proficient in playing the piano and swimming. Part of the testing process includes both a piano and swimming test. Elementary teachers here teach all subjects themselves, including music and P.E.

Finding a job: After becoming a teacher, all newbies must take a test for the various regions of Japan. You are only allowed to teach in the areas whose test you pass. Therefore, if the only test you pass is the test for Hokkaido, then you may only teach in Hokkaido. The area in which you work within that region is not necessarily up to you. Since I don’t understand all the intricacies of the Japanese educational system, I’m not exactly sure which government organization makes the decision, but suffice it to say that very little of the decision is left up to the teacher.

Keeping a job: Many positions in Japan are changed after a given number of years. Staff at the village offices (Yakuba) are moved around at what seems like the whim of the “powers that be”. It’s an accepted and expected practice. The same holds true for teachers. At varying time intervals, which I’m not sure of the details of, teachers are moved. Well, actually, I’ve just been told that they have a choice, and can choose to remain in the same position. However, if a teacher remains “too long”, then the board of education will ask the teacher to move on. Even the same holds for principals and vice-principals. They move every two or three years. The principal at the middle school here in Nishiokoppe is in his first year. The elementary vice-principal is in his first year here, also. Amazing!

Also, there is some sort of a testing that takes place when a teacher has been teaching for ten years. Mr. Kurata is on his tenth, and he has been telling me a little bit about what is required of him. For example, he must take a class, write a paper, and he will be evaluated at some point. They want to make sure he is still a good teacher, I guess.

Work hours: Teachers here work long hours, like those in the U.S., but here it is expected and is a part of the workday. Each school day, regardless of when the last class is, teachers work until 5:30. Many of them are also responsible for supervising clubs or teams, which all take place after school. Yesterday, three of the lady teachers went with the school band (six girls who all play the sax) to Okoppe for a concert. Last weekend, Mr. Kurata took the first graders (like 7th grade) to Mr. Doughnut in Nayoro for their required one day of ‘work study’. These extra duties are all part of the gig. There is, apparently, a teacher’s union in Hokkaido. However, teachers are public servants and are not allowed to strike, as much as they may want to. It seems that every one (in Hokkaido or Japan, I’m not sure) will have their salary cut by 10% next year.

Substitute teachers: Here in Nishiokoppe, there are no subs. I don’t know if it is different in bigger places. Each time someone has been absent at the elementary school the school covers for itself. Last week, the vice-principal took over a class for the day. Nishiokoppe also has a teacher who teaches Japanese (writing and such). Since he has no class of his own, he can also cover. At the middle school, other teachers cover or the students have a study period.

There are some things I really like about the system here. I enjoy the fact that all the teachers’ desks are in one big room. It fosters a ‘team spirit’ sort of feeling. Many things, though, rub my American sensibilities the wrong way. People here work way to hard. Sometimes I feel guilty because I work a lot less than the Japanese teachers. I’m grateful for the break, though. I think teaching special education for nine years took some years off my life! Maybe here I can get them back.

Amusing Day at School

I had an amusing day today at school. This was due in large part to the tradition of Setsubun. I think I mentioned this holiday in a previous post.

According to the ancient Japanese calendar, February 3rd is the eve of Spring. This means it’s a good time to do some Spring cleaning – of onis, that is. If you’ll remember, an oni is something like a nasty little demon/spirit. Well, this week is the traditional time to chase those guys away. That’s why Ridge had a party at his pre-school last week (I’m still waiting for Aaron to write a post about it). The way the bad spirits are chased away is by throwing beans. Well, actually, they throw peanuts, but I guess that counts, since peanuts are more closely related to beans than to nuts.

Anyway, when I showed up to teach my 5/6th grade class this morning, the teacher asked me if I knew about the bean-throwing thing (I forgot the Japanese name for it, sorry). I said yes and he wanted to know if we do it in America. I laughed and assured him it was strictly a Japanese tradition. Then he asked if we could throw some in my class. I, of course, happily conceded to his request. So, after the chimed sounded and class began, three of the girls put on oni masks and everyone got ready with their bags of peanuts. Even I had one! As soon as everyone was set, we began throwing the peanuts (in shell) at the girls. Soon enough, the teacher became a target, too. It was the funniest thing I’ve seen all week! It was hysterical to see a room full of 12 year-olds throwing peanuts as hard as they could at a couple of girls and their teacher, laughing all the while. When most of the peanuts had been scooped up and thrown multiple times, the students grabbed brooms, and within less than five minutes, the class was clean and it was time for my lesson. What a hoot!

Then, surprise, surprise, I was treated to the same ritual that afternoon in the middle school. This time, it was several teachers and students pelting two fellow students with peanuts. Everyone seems to really have a good time with it.