tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-67027996330629180302024-03-13T21:01:07.042+09:00June, July, JAPAN!Veronica's Adventures in Hokkaido, JapanUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-87893824055119369752010-08-12T10:53:00.002+09:002010-08-12T11:00:58.017+09:00Burping, Sneezing, Etc. :)Since lots of people have been asking, here's the answer to the question "What do they say when someone burps/sneezes/farts in Japan?"<br /><br />Over here, we're pretty much used to saying "Bless you," when someone else sneezes and "Excuse me" for the more noxious bodily exports. However, in Japan, they say nothing. Unless the sneeze or what have you is particularly disruptive to an ongoing conversation, at which point they will say <span style="font-style: italic;">sumimasen</span> (excuse me).<br /><br />Oh, you know you were wondering about it. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-25266126615049090252010-08-10T11:52:00.005+09:002010-08-11T00:35:10.493+09:00Kaitenzushi at Kantaro<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGDAQkxjapI/AAAAAAAAAbI/EowbhXmiNqQ/s1600/kaiten+013.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGDAQkxjapI/AAAAAAAAAbI/EowbhXmiNqQ/s320/kaiten+013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503610135628704402" border="0" /></a><br />During the last week I was in Hakodate, my friends and I finally made our way to Kantaro, the best sushi place in town. Kantaro is a <span style="font-style: italic;">kaitenzushi</span> restaurant -- the sushi chefs stand in the middle of a circular bar, and there's a conveyer belt going around the outside. They make the sushi, and then set it on the conveyer belt, and guests can grab what they want as it goes around.<br /><br />Kantaro is a popular place, so we had to wait first.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_RAl-4uI/AAAAAAAAAZY/5hBL0BE-KXg/s1600/kaiten+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_RAl-4uI/AAAAAAAAAZY/5hBL0BE-KXg/s320/kaiten+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609043584738018" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Meagan and I have both resorted to picture taking while waiting</span><br /><br /><br /></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_RrWF8TI/AAAAAAAAAZo/1EBfkU21F7Q/s1600/kaiten+004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_RrWF8TI/AAAAAAAAAZo/1EBfkU21F7Q/s320/kaiten+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609055060816178" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Cool window next to the waiting room<br /><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_RUOOScI/AAAAAAAAAZg/mDAYjrLUHQ8/s1600/kaiten+002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_RUOOScI/AAAAAAAAAZg/mDAYjrLUHQ8/s320/kaiten+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609048853793218" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">An antique tea set</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The wait wasn't too bad (it helps to have company) and then we got to head in.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_R36uvlI/AAAAAAAAAZw/7v9OJMyA9YU/s1600/kaiten+005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_R36uvlI/AAAAAAAAAZw/7v9OJMyA9YU/s320/kaiten+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609058435710546" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Here you can see the bar-style side, and on the far side are booths</span><br /></div></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_SOjF_AI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/e4s4TTxvctU/s1600/kaiten+006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_SOjF_AI/AAAAAAAAAZ4/e4s4TTxvctU/s320/kaiten+006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609064510585858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Sitting at our booth</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The green tea and the mugs for it were already at the table. There was a little box with the powdered green tea that you could put in your mug and then fill up with hot water at the tap on the side of the bar. And of course there were ginger, soy sauce, and chopsticks. :)<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC__xEYpPI/AAAAAAAAAa4/_5_jZlZAYWo/s1600/kaiten+014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC__xEYpPI/AAAAAAAAAa4/_5_jZlZAYWo/s320/kaiten+014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609846871139570" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >A look down the conveyor belt</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_t_o-UQI/AAAAAAAAAag/HUU3ucJYmaU/s1600/kaiten+011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_t_o-UQI/AAAAAAAAAag/HUU3ucJYmaU/s320/kaiten+011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609541545054466" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">A melon goes by</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">Here's some of the stuff my friends and I grabbed.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_s9JneyI/AAAAAAAAAaA/Icc629qbPLA/s1600/kaiten+007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_s9JneyI/AAAAAAAAAaA/Icc629qbPLA/s320/kaiten+007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609523696794402" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_tnVphwI/AAAAAAAAAaY/JJ3j2ovKFws/s1600/kaiten+010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_tnVphwI/AAAAAAAAAaY/JJ3j2ovKFws/s320/kaiten+010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609535021549314" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_teLylSI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/v3YBDlzINsI/s1600/kaiten+009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_teLylSI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/v3YBDlzINsI/s320/kaiten+009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609532564280610" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_tPwzxBI/AAAAAAAAAaI/hU7pD1WUd7Q/s1600/kaiten+008.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGC_tPwzxBI/AAAAAAAAAaI/hU7pD1WUd7Q/s320/kaiten+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503609528693015570" border="0" /></a>You can tell how much something costs because the plates are color coded. The green rimmed/flowery plates, for example, were 125 yen each, whereas the dark green with gold squiggles was one of the more expensive plates at about 300 yen. (However, there were also 400 and 500 yen plates. These five college students did not partake in those particular plates.)<br /><br />Once you're done, the waitress/waiter comes by, counts up your plates, writes down how many you had of each, and then you bring it to the cashier to ring out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGDAQRcWlII/AAAAAAAAAbA/3T1k20uW0fI/s1600/kaiten+012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TGDAQRcWlII/AAAAAAAAAbA/3T1k20uW0fI/s320/kaiten+012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5503610130439509122" border="0" /></a><br />Unfortunately the only sushi place with <span style="font-style: italic;">kaitenzushi</span> that I know of here in the Boston area is Fugakyu up in Brookline, which is about an hour drive. :(<br /><br /></div></div><br /><br /></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-72625631166655602122010-08-08T07:21:00.002+09:002010-08-08T07:26:14.011+09:00Longest Saturday of My LifeAugust 7th will officially last 37 hours for me. (17 hours in Japan, 12 hours on the plane, and then 8 hours in the eastern time zone).<br /><br />Y’all are in for a treat. I’m writing this in Toronto airport because I really have nothing better to do during my 5 hour layover, except feel assured that my check in baggage will have time to make it to my plane. (Ok, side rant, but I had to pick up my luggage from one of those conveyer belt contraptions, run it through U.S. customs where they did absolutely nothing other than look at a paper I had filled out and then ask me why I had been in Japan, then re-check it and go through security again. I’m bitter about being back in the States already and I’M NOT EVEN THERE.)<br /><br />I should also note that I have been up for 26 hours at this point. And I just decided to get a Starbucks mocha frappucino – or however the heck you spell that. Y’know what I mean. Anyway, my caffeine tolerance is pretty low so prepare for one really fun post…<br /><br />Sudden realization. I have nothing legitimate to post about. Except maybe airports. I finally figured out who shops at all those little chintzy boutiques and overpriced food places. It’s people with 5 hour layovers. (Though granted U.S. customs did their darnedest to keep me entertained waiting for my baggage and waiting in line as long as possible).<br /><br />I was actually considering a ten minute manicure, but the store girl just wrapped up shop.<br />Well, anyway, the legitimate posts will continue once I’m a little less sleep-deprived/cracked out on caffeine.<br /><br />But, oh hey, I have free wifi! :DUnknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-73923791111127632392010-08-06T16:22:00.001+09:002010-08-06T16:25:46.171+09:00Last full day in Japan...<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(Sorry guys, no fun pictures with this one...)</span></span><br /><br />Today is my last full day here in Japan. My classes are over, my final exam is taken, and all that remains today is a closing ceremony and farewell party. After that I intend the rest of the day leisurely with my host family. (Most of my things are already packed as I had to send my large suitcase via delivery service to Narita Airport in Tokyo on Tuesday. Though I’ve had to live on the bare minimum since then, it’s nice to not worry about packing today).<br /><br />Tomorrow morning I will be leaving on the 7:00 AM train from Hakodate, and thus will begin a 30 hour journey to get back to Logan Airport in Boston. (Oh fun…) (But I am looking forward to watching movies in English on the plane).<br /><br />There will be lots more blog posts to come once I’m home since there’s still a lot I just haven’t had the chance to post about but intend to. But I figured I would make this an actual timely post.<br />As my time left on this side of the world has dwindled, I’ve been thinking about things I’m going to miss here in Japan. But, of course, at the same time, there are lots of things I’m looking forward to at home and a few things I won’t miss about Japan.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Things I’m Going to Miss About Hakodate, Hokkaido</span><br /><ul><li>Onigiri</li><li>Milk tea</li><li>Being able to walk or take public transport wherever I need to go</li><li>Practicing Japanese conversation every day</li><li>The occasional times the band at the high school next door stops making random noise and gets together to play some music like the Mario theme song or the James Bond theme song</li><li>Ume boshi (sour plums)</li><li>Sushi (delivery, kaiten, and just really fresh, delicious sushi in general)</li><li>Squid</li><li>Ramen shops</li><li>Heated toilet seats</li><li>Ofuro</li><li>Meeting random friendly cats on my walk to school</li><li>Running around Goryokaku Park and seeing water lilies, fish, and turtles in the moat</li><li>Black sesame soft cream</li><li>Green tea soft cream</li><li>Hakodate milk soft cream</li><li>Getting to use chopsticks all the time (though now that I have two portable pairs in my possession I might just whip them out whenever I get sick of forks). (Chopsticks are way more fun. Also, forks are too big and unwieldy.)</li><li>Conbini (convenience stores) – These are so much better over here. They’ve got yummy bentos and onigiri in addition to alcoholic beverages and fireworks. Yes, you read that right. Fireworks in your local 7-Eleven. :)</li><li>Taking pictures for this blog :(</li></ul><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Things I’m Not Going to Miss</span><br /><ul><li>The exchange rate </li><li>The rarity of soap in bathrooms</li><li>Japanese style toilets</li><li>Wearing the same 7 shirts</li><li>Doing so much homework</li><li>Using an adaptor for the three prong plug on my computer power cord</li></ul><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">Things I’m Looking Forward To</span><br /><ul><li>Friends and Family (I know, I’m such a sap).</li><li>Getting back to the dojo</li><li>Green apples!!!</li><li>And other fresh fruit and veggies in general</li><li>Giving out souvenirs and feeling like Santa :)</li><li>Being able to use my cell phone for something other than the alarm clock</li><li>T.V. in English</li><li>Exercising more because I have more than two sets of workout clothes!</li></ul>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-50154593457479760812010-08-04T14:11:00.008+09:002010-08-05T12:22:40.020+09:00Squid cooking!On Tuesday I along with some other HIF students got the chance to take a squid cooking class here in Hakodate. We made<span style="font-style: italic;"> ikameshi</span>, which is squid stuffed with rice, and <span style="font-style: italic;">ikasashimi</span>, which is just raw squid cut up all nice. :)<br /><br />First things first, we got our game faces on. And our aprons. And our bandannas.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFj6_kw9PlI/AAAAAAAAAX0/YyAUH__I8Ng/s1600/squid+003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 183px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFj6_kw9PlI/AAAAAAAAAX0/YyAUH__I8Ng/s320/squid+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501422914940780114" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFj6_G2AKLI/AAAAAAAAAXs/nibE6M01gx8/s1600/squid+002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFj6_G2AKLI/AAAAAAAAAXs/nibE6M01gx8/s320/squid+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501422906908879026" border="0" /></a>Then we got our cutting boards and knives.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFj6_xhahII/AAAAAAAAAX8/UGiG-fMWs20/s1600/squid+004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFj6_xhahII/AAAAAAAAAX8/UGiG-fMWs20/s320/squid+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501422918365250690" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Isn't it cool that they trusted me with such an absurdly large knife?<br /></span></span></div><br />Then we got our squid. We each got three.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAFyAGS3I/AAAAAAAAAYs/Ku1Ys8NcFRo/s1600/squid+005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 238px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAFyAGS3I/AAAAAAAAAYs/Ku1Ys8NcFRo/s320/squid+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501428519131302770" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Unfortunate cephalopods about to become hapless victims to our inexpert cooking skills<br /></span></span></div><br />Then our cooking Sensei demonstrated how to properly rip a squid apart with your bare hands. :) Then he cut the not tasty part of the tentacles off and squeezed out the squid's beak, since that would be pretty unpleasant to eat.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAFjLqkDI/AAAAAAAAAYk/R3wNcqdei9k/s1600/squid+006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAFjLqkDI/AAAAAAAAAYk/R3wNcqdei9k/s320/squid+006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501428515153285170" border="0" /></a><br />We did the same, but I don't have any pictures of me dissecting my own squids because I didn't really want to get squid goo on my camera... We then took the tentacles and boiled them for a bit, added a bit of spice and sauce, and enjoyed. :)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAfELUm5I/AAAAAAAAAY8/0Xq5bGjfiWo/s1600/squid+008.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 281px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAfELUm5I/AAAAAAAAAY8/0Xq5bGjfiWo/s320/squid+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501428953506945938" border="0" /></a><br />Then we made<span style="font-style: italic;"> ikameshi</span>. Basically you just clean out the part you see here and then fill it with rice. The top gets closed off with a toothpick, and then the entire thing gets cooked for about an hour. (No picture of the finished product, sorry guys!)<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAepSmYBI/AAAAAAAAAY0/gYfNnn7_QX0/s1600/squid+007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAepSmYBI/AAAAAAAAAY0/gYfNnn7_QX0/s320/squid+007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501428946289713170" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAfeF_W2I/AAAAAAAAAZE/M5sQLVSmYF4/s1600/squid+009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFkAfeF_W2I/AAAAAAAAAZE/M5sQLVSmYF4/s320/squid+009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501428960463903586" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">About to boil the prepared squids. (This was Sam's reaction to my prompt "Quick, look culinary!")</span> </span></div><br />Our final task was making sashimi. I first prepared my squid by threatening it with my absurdly large knife.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFj6-_zzi7I/AAAAAAAAAXk/vMA2xiexc8k/s1600/squid+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFj6-_zzi7I/AAAAAAAAAXk/vMA2xiexc8k/s320/squid+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501422905020615602" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Credit to Caitlin for being an accomplice and taking the picture for me.</span></span><br /></div><br />After I finished doing that, I actually set about slicing and dicing my squid the proper way. This was the final product:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFouOnD3lmI/AAAAAAAAAZM/XkkMC6t4vuA/s1600/squid+011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFouOnD3lmI/AAAAAAAAAZM/XkkMC6t4vuA/s320/squid+011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501760723324737122" border="0" /></a>Very yummy! I'm going to be a bit bummed out when I get back to the States and can't get squid so regularly...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-34611331452719348052010-08-02T12:28:00.003+09:002010-08-02T12:45:23.515+09:00Chanoyu<span style="font-style: italic;">Chanoyu</span> is the Japanese tea ceremony. It began in very different form way back when tea first made its way from China to Japan. At first tea was limited to the temples and the courts, but soon made its way to the warrior class, who made it a lot more fun. (Insert gambling, excessive amounts of alcohol, contests to try and identify different types of tea after excessive amounts of alcohol). (For a side note about another possible samurai drinking game, see the end of the post).<br /><br />Over time the tea ceremony mellowed out, however, and over hundreds of years was developed into an art called <span style="font-style: italic;">Cha-do</span> that has several different schools with varying techniques and rules of etiquette. Each school has a grandmaster as well. I found it really interesting that the way of tea’s hierarchy is almost exactly the same as the way of open hand (meaning <span style="font-style: italic;">karate-do</span> for all those non-dojo folk out there).<br /><br />At HIF we were able to get a crash course in the basics of one of these tea ceremonies.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8Bn-yr2I/AAAAAAAAAWs/r51AgAMDuME/s1600/tea+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8Bn-yr2I/AAAAAAAAAWs/r51AgAMDuME/s320/tea+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500649993489526626" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Sensei explains the tools of the trade before we get started<br /><br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8LPuRaQI/AAAAAAAAAXM/mJV3RtPl-b8/s1600/tea+005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8LPuRaQI/AAAAAAAAAXM/mJV3RtPl-b8/s320/tea+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500650158776477954" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Our first challenge—properly taking two sweet beans from the serving dish and putting them on our individual paper.</span></span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8CQpJcQI/AAAAAAAAAW8/S_S9q66JhjU/s1600/tea+003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8CQpJcQI/AAAAAAAAAW8/S_S9q66JhjU/s320/tea+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500650004404596994" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">One of Sensei’s helpers demonstrates the making of the tea. Here she’s cleaning the tea making tools, even though they’re already clean. (It’s part of the show of the tea ceremony).</span></span><br /><br /></div>We each get our own bowl of tea to try. There are three set phrases you have to say before you drink it—one to the host making the tea, one to the person on your left who got tea before you, and one to the person on your right who go tea after you. Also, you’re sitting in <span style="font-style: italic;">seza</span> the entire time (that’s the formal sitting position where you sit with your feet tucked under you.) Then, once you pick your bowl of tea up, you have to rotate it twice, finish it in three sips (making the last one slightly louder so the host knows you have finished), rotate twice the opposite direction, and put it back down. (I totally forgot the rotating thing when I did it…)<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8C4VOoHI/AAAAAAAAAXE/4xl3t4MdpY0/s1600/tea+004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8C4VOoHI/AAAAAAAAAXE/4xl3t4MdpY0/s320/tea+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500650015058468978" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Tea!</span><br /></span></div><br />We also got some yummy<span style="font-style: italic;"> nerikiri</span>. (Same thing as what we made in the <span style="font-style: italic;">wagashi</span> class, only by people with considerably more skill.) I had one of the green ones. As expected, it was pretty much pure sugar and a little bit of bean paste.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8CaJBe0I/AAAAAAAAAW0/LM6ns8nHJU4/s1600/tea+002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8CaJBe0I/AAAAAAAAAW0/LM6ns8nHJU4/s320/tea+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500650006954212162" border="0" /></a>At the end we got to try to make our own tea. It’s pretty simple—you put two little scoops of the tea powder in the bowl, add hot water, whisk it with your <span style="font-style: italic;">chasen </span><span>(tea whisk)</span>, and then enjoy. :)<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8LbmRaNI/AAAAAAAAAXU/mEB0zo5gbAs/s1600/tea+006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8LbmRaNI/AAAAAAAAAXU/mEB0zo5gbAs/s320/tea+006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500650161964148946" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;">A small bowl, a wooden scoop for the tea powder, a round black box with the tea, and the chasen (tea whisk).</span></span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8LjcrKNI/AAAAAAAAAXc/hOFkml0ltgg/s1600/tea+007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFY8LjcrKNI/AAAAAAAAAXc/hOFkml0ltgg/s320/tea+007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500650164071377106" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">My classmate, Mitchell, experiences some difficulties.</span><br /></span></div><br />Hopefully I’ll be able to bring some of Japan’s green tea back with me to the U.S. It’s much better than the bag stuff!<br /><br />Side note - Samurai Drinking Game?<br /><br />I was walking back from the beach this last Saturday and I saw a small outdoor celebration going on outside one of the houses I walked past. There was a party game going on involving a watermelon and a small child armed with a <span style="font-style: italic;">shinai </span>(practice sword made of bamboo). The girl had the obligatory blindfold on to give the watermelon a fighting chance against her surely ferocious strikes. It looked like the Japanese version of a pinata.<br /><br />Having just written up this post about tea ceremonies actually being rowdy warrior class drinking parties, I wondered if this too would have been a drinking game. Take the melon intended for dessert, find a particularly drunk comrade, blindfold him, hand him his katana (real, of course) and then set him loose. There's possible limb loss in this scenario, but also the possibility for good, wholesome fun. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-78334162408154115312010-07-31T10:24:00.003+09:002010-07-31T10:30:06.519+09:00GoI have to admit that the events of this post took place more than a week ago, but I’m only getting around to blogging about it now. As my last week in Japan starts, I’m getting pretty busy with classes, packing, and, you know, enjoying my last week in Japan. So you can probably expect lots of belated blog posts after I get back to the U.S. next Saturday.<br /><br />So one of the extracurricular classes that we got to take was a class on the game of <span style="font-style: italic;">Go</span>. This is the Japanese name for the game—it was started about 4000 years ago in China, and reached Japan and Korea soon after. The basic tools of the game are <span style="font-style: italic;">ban</span> (a square-ruled board) and black and white<span style="font-style: italic;"> ishi </span>(stones):<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN7-PNZ8yI/AAAAAAAAAV8/Vqpo7U5mprI/s1600/go+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN7-PNZ8yI/AAAAAAAAAV8/Vqpo7U5mprI/s320/go+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499875879114371874" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">9x9 for us beginners, 13x13 for intermediates, and 19x19 for the pros</span></span><br /></div><br />We didn’t get to play right away though. First we got the rules of the game explained to us in Japanese. (He was contrasting the language used to describe Go on the board with the language used to describe Chess, hence the bit of English up there. Where we use the verb “to play” to describe the act of chess, the Japanese use the verb that means “to strike” to describe <span style="font-style: italic;">Go</span>. It’s because of the way that you definitively and confidently place your stone on the board once you’ve decided on where to put it). (It makes a really nice, satisfying tap. You put one down and feel like you’ve accomplished something). (Even if you still have no idea what you’re doing….)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN7-YZAf4I/AAAAAAAAAWE/KkXiXd4RXc8/s1600/go+002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN7-YZAf4I/AAAAAAAAAWE/KkXiXd4RXc8/s320/go+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499875881578954626" border="0" /></a>Then there was the explanation of more advanced strategies, and some students got the chance to go up to the board and make the wrong move (which they thought was right since the sensei was leading them into it). Then the <span style="font-style: italic;">Go</span> sensei would explain the more strategic move.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN7-qtOKyI/AAAAAAAAAWM/g4xHE_F0KM0/s1600/go+003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN7-qtOKyI/AAAAAAAAAWM/g4xHE_F0KM0/s320/go+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499875886495574818" border="0" /></a>It appeared that after a day of classes the strategy explanations may have been too in depth for Samik and Sandra, who developed their own use for the <span style="font-style: italic;">ban</span> and<span style="font-style: italic;"> ishi</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN7-yiZ09I/AAAAAAAAAWU/Ayyp3w_dOhM/s1600/go+004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN7-yiZ09I/AAAAAAAAAWU/Ayyp3w_dOhM/s320/go+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499875888597685202" border="0" /></a><br />Finally, for the last half hour of the class, we were able to attempt our first haphazard games.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN8bz9VeTI/AAAAAAAAAWk/pLNHvZ7SEzQ/s1600/go+005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TFN8bz9VeTI/AAAAAAAAAWk/pLNHvZ7SEzQ/s320/go+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5499876387195287858" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Meagan: Wait, is the game over now?</span><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: center; font-style: italic;"><span style="font-size:85%;">Veronica: I have no idea… yes… no, wait… oh yeah, I think it is….maybe…<br /></span></div><br />At any rate, it was pretty interesting. I think I’ll stick with chess and checkers though. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-2804860576300895972010-07-28T11:10:00.003+09:002010-07-28T11:20:29.635+09:00The Cafeteria MenuSo the cafeteria here at HIF usually just serves the Russian University students, who are Japanese students learning Russian. Their menu is in Japanese, but they provide translations for HIF students while we're here.<br /><br />I'm not sure how they obtained these translations.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TE-SWEPgHKI/AAAAAAAAAV0/FaclhuQxEbE/s1600/menu.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 421px; height: 315px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TE-SWEPgHKI/AAAAAAAAAV0/FaclhuQxEbE/s320/menu.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498774577836203170" border="0" /></a><br />They were pretty priceless though. The photo is courtesy of my classmate, Kristin, who also has an awesome blog over here: http://pocketabroad.blogspot.com/. (She has a 13 year old host sister who just this summer go her first boyfriend, and naturally hilarity ensued--I really loved that particular post: http://pocketabroad.blogspot.com/2010/07/musings.html) (The section pertaining to the Japanese teenager drama is under the picture of the menu)<br /><br />Anyway, anybody want to guess what they were actually trying to say on this menu? :D This isn't an official contest, but just for fun, post a comment if you think you know what they're attempting to communicate.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-59516289856986451712010-07-27T16:41:00.001+09:002010-07-27T16:48:56.555+09:00Let's make this more interesting...The other day we were doing a practice dialogue in class to practice our use of honorifics and talking on the phone. The example dialogue went like so:<br /><br />Student: Hello. Is this the HIF office?<br />HIF office: Yes, it is.<br />Student: Ah, this is (insert name here) from Class C. Is Ms. Okada there?<br />HIF office: No, she is not here at the moment.<br />Student: Do you know about what time she will return?<br />HIF office: She should be back at about 2:00<br />Student: Could you let her know I have a question about my independent study project and will call back?<br />HIF office: I will let her know.<br />Student: Thank you very much!<br /><br />I was sitting next to Lindsay. We looked at each other and knew that this dialogue had lots of potential to be much more interesting. Our following conversation went like so:<br /><br />Student: Hello. Is this the HIF office?<br />HIF office: Yes, it is.<br />Student: Ah, this is Veronica from Class C. Is Ms. Okada there?<br />HIF office: No, she is not here at the moment.<br />Student: Do you know about what time she will return?<br />HIF office: She should be back at about 2:00<br />Student: Could you let her know I am currently being detained at the police station?<br />HIF office: I will let her know.<br />Student: Thank you very much!<br /><br />We switched, and I have to say Lindsay beat me on the creativity end of things.<br /><br />Student: Hello. Is this the HIF office?<br />HIF office: Yes, it is.<br />Student: Ah, this is Lindsay from Class C. Is Ms. Okada there?<br />HIF office: No, she is not here at the moment.<br />Student: Do you know about what time she will return?<br />HIF office: She should be back at about 2:00<br />Student: Could you let her know I have been shipwrecked on North Korea’s coast?<br />HIF office: I will let her know.<br />Student: Thank you very much!<br /><br />Today Lindsay and I were next to each other again. This time, the dialogue was between friends, and one was complaining about a problem and the other was supposed to give advice.<br /><br />Lindsay: I have no money!<br />Veronica: Then you have no choice but to become a thief.<br />Lindsay: Ah, but how do I do that?<br />Veronica: First, you become a ninja. And then you apply to the Yakuza <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(Japanese equivalent of the mafia)</span></span>.<br />Lindsay: Ah, great idea! I'll do that.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-18688055151105169032010-07-26T12:50:00.003+09:002010-07-26T13:01:53.698+09:00Lucky Pierrot's<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TE0GlG8tUbI/AAAAAAAAAVk/y2YUZqCZAeI/s1600/lucky+pierrots+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TE0GlG8tUbI/AAAAAAAAAVk/y2YUZqCZAeI/s320/lucky+pierrots+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498057954679411122" border="0" /></a>Lucky Pierrots (Japanese pronunciation <span style="font-style: italic;">Rakkii Piero</span>, or <span style="font-style: italic;">Rappi </span>for short) is a burger chain here in Japan. They are a representation of the Japanese perception of American food culture – big, super-fried burgers, fries, soda, and ice cream. Also, like McDonald’s, they feature a creepy clown mascot.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TE0Glm5P-eI/AAAAAAAAAVs/zGoN8e4tfKc/s1600/lucky+pierrots+002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 252px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TE0Glm5P-eI/AAAAAAAAAVs/zGoN8e4tfKc/s320/lucky+pierrots+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5498057963254839778" border="0" /></a>I really don’t get why any place would use a clown as a mascot. They’re downright terrifying. (Alright, maybe I watched too much Batman as a kid. I’ve been pretty well convinced that “clown” is synonymous for “homicidal maniac”).<br /><br />I find the Lucky Pierrot’s clown particular disturbing because the eyes have different pupils – a circle in one, a star in the other. The eyes of the Joker as drawn in <span style="font-style: italic;">Batman: RIP</span> also have different pupils – one dilated, and the other constricted to a pinpoint. <span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(I'm not going to post a picture of that particular version here as it may be a bit scary for the younger crowd, if they're reading).</span> </span><br />Ok, so I read/watch too much Batman. I see the Joker in every clown I see.<br /><br />But even putting the clown issue aside, Lucky Pierrot’s is still on my list of not-ok stuff. (Yup, I have an official list of not-ok stuff. It includes Ugg boots, Lucky Pierrot’s, froofy boy band songs, and my brother’s trucks). (Just kidding Tim.)<br /><br />Anyway, back to Lucky Pierrot’s. Why is it still on my list of not-ok stuff you ask? Is it the heart-attack-inducing quality of their food? The chintzy décor? The prices?<br /><br />Nope. It’s actually the <span style="font-style: italic;">kujira</span> burger.<br /><br />Guess what makes the <span style="font-style: italic;">kujira</span> burger.<br />…<br /><br />…<br /><br />Are you ready for this?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://fascinatingly.com/home/images/stories/humpback_whale.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 206px;" src="http://fascinatingly.com/home/images/stories/humpback_whale.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>That’s right folks. It’s a whale meat burger. Whaling may be internationally illegal, but Japan has unilaterally defied these laws and continued its whaling industry while claiming it’s for scientific research.<br /><br />Well, some of the research specimen has been making it to Lucky Pierrot’s for the <span style="font-style: italic;">kujira</span> burger. (The <span style="font-style: italic;">kujira</span> burger is more expensive than the others, but to be served at a fast-food restaurant, I’m guessing what you’re actually getting in your burger is the excretory end of the digestive tract and other unsavory bits, ground up and deep fried. Yum).<br /><br />It’s one thing to kill a cow for food. It is another matter altogether to hunt what are often endangered animals.<br /><br />Sorry Japan. I draw the line here. Whaling = not ok.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-29870080083995142832010-07-25T09:01:00.009+09:002010-07-25T09:48:22.918+09:00WagashiWagashi is a traditional Japanese sweet usually made with natural, plant-based ingredients and a whole lot of sugar. Yesterday I got to attend a class to try out making two different kinds: <span style="font-style: italic;">manjuu</span>, and <span style="font-style: italic;">nerikiri</span>.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Manjuu</span>, according to our handout, comes in many varieties. But the general formula is an outside made from flour, rice powder, and buckwheat with a filling of <span style="font-style: italic;">an</span> (red bean paste - 30% boiled <span style="font-style: italic;">azuki</span> beans, 70% sugar!).<br /><br />First, the cooking school teacher showed us how to do it. First things first, mix your sugar, flour, baking soda, and water to make your outside dough/paste.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAU4EklHI/AAAAAAAAAT0/JGHAfSCg9p8/s1600/wagashi+005.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAU4EklHI/AAAAAAAAAT0/JGHAfSCg9p8/s320/wagashi+005.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497628866273121394" border="0" /></a>Then, with that done, you let it sit while you divide up the <span style="font-style: italic;">an</span> (red bean paste) into even-sized balls.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAVaB8LiI/AAAAAAAAAT8/QWTNSZ_msb8/s1600/wagashi+006.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAVaB8LiI/AAAAAAAAAT8/QWTNSZ_msb8/s320/wagashi+006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497628875388890658" border="0" /></a><br />Then you divide up your outer dough into the same number of pieces as you have <span style="font-style: italic;">an</span> pieces.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAV6aOCjI/AAAAAAAAAUE/mcswcQeg7V8/s1600/wagashi+007.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAV6aOCjI/AAAAAAAAAUE/mcswcQeg7V8/s320/wagashi+007.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497628884080658994" border="0" /></a>Then you wrap your outer dough around the <span style="font-style: italic;">an</span> balls, which is a lot harder than it sounds and a lot harder than he makes it look in this video clip.<br />(And yes, I epic failed when making this video clip. But there are two solutions.<br />1. Touch your right ear to your right shoulder. Click play.<br />2. Turn your computer screen 90 degrees counter-clockwise. Click play.)<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/HOGouYnmdS4&hl=en_US&fs=1?color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/HOGouYnmdS4&hl=en_US&fs=1?color1=0x006699&color2=0x54abd6" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><div style="text-align: left;">After that, you put your manjuu in this wooden box with slats on the bottom (and a thin piece of damp cloth) and spray them with a bit of water.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAWC0yetI/AAAAAAAAAUM/DxsMt_r3HVc/s1600/wagashi+008.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAWC0yetI/AAAAAAAAAUM/DxsMt_r3HVc/s320/wagashi+008.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497628886339582674" border="0" /></a>They then get steamed for 8 minutes in this contraption at the back of the room.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAtpTgoaI/AAAAAAAAAU0/C1WQWq2r6gg/s1600/wagashi+013.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAtpTgoaI/AAAAAAAAAU0/C1WQWq2r6gg/s320/wagashi+013.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497629291805974946" border="0" /></a>While the demonstration manjuu were steaming, the teacher set us loose to attempt our own <span style="font-style: italic;">manjuu</span>.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAJRVCPII/AAAAAAAAATk/yJ2LSum0Z_g/s1600/wagashi+003.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAJRVCPII/AAAAAAAAATk/yJ2LSum0Z_g/s320/wagashi+003.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497628666894630018" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Our tools of destruction<br /><br /></span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAJ61ny9I/AAAAAAAAATs/LRsgcz2c9zI/s1600/wagashi+004.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAJ61ny9I/AAAAAAAAATs/LRsgcz2c9zI/s320/wagashi+004.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497628678037162962" border="0" /></a><span style="font-style: italic;font-size:85%;" >Perfectly good ingredients about to be victimized by our inexpert manjuu-making skills</span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAh12OQXI/AAAAAAAAAUU/4yYXdg6eaQk/s1600/wagashi+009.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAh12OQXI/AAAAAAAAAUU/4yYXdg6eaQk/s320/wagashi+009.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497629089014366578" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Thankfully someone remembered to close the window before we did this step. (It was pretty gusty--you can imagine how this would have ended if it had been open... though I would have been able to get some pretty funny pictures...)<br /><br /><br /></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAiUWlX_I/AAAAAAAAAUc/ge6IcEWAYOs/s1600/wagashi+010.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAiUWlX_I/AAAAAAAAAUc/ge6IcEWAYOs/s320/wagashi+010.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497629097203163122" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Caitlin does not seem to confident of her sugar and water mixing skills...</span></span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAimdlU_I/AAAAAAAAAUk/Td94PH7NZVA/s1600/wagashi+011.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAimdlU_I/AAAAAAAAAUk/Td94PH7NZVA/s320/wagashi+011.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497629102064358386" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Folding the dough until it has the consistency of an earlobe. No, seriously, that's how he described it. He asked us what English word we had for that consistency and we realized that there really was no word. Epic fail, English, epic fail.</span></span><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAi_Xh-nI/AAAAAAAAAUs/zzmsL8YTuSA/s1600/wagashi+012.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAi_Xh-nI/AAAAAAAAAUs/zzmsL8YTuSA/s320/wagashi+012.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497629108749859442" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Spraying the manjuu before they get steamed.<br /></span><br /></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The completed product looks pretty much like it does above, so I haven't included another picture. Also, they were delicious. Go team!</span><br /><br />Next up was <span style="font-style: italic;">nerikiri</span>. It has the same filling of red bean paste, but the outer paste is made of a mix of<span style="font-style: italic;"> Gyuhi</span> (a soft type of <span style="font-style: italic;">mochi</span>) and <span style="font-style: italic;">Shiro Koshi An</span> (bean paste made from navy beans and greyish off-white in color). It is typically used like clay to make decorative-looking <span style="font-style: italic;">wagashi</span>. We added food coloring to the ones we did to make them pink.<br /><br />Once again, we had the demonstration by the master who made it look easy and did the whole process in about 2 seconds flat.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAt1D0HiI/AAAAAAAAAU8/UaKAuNlcdjc/s1600/wagashi+014.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 223px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAt1D0HiI/AAAAAAAAAU8/UaKAuNlcdjc/s320/wagashi+014.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497629294961368610" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">I took this picture of the mirror behind the demonstration counter. It lets you see a different perspective of what's going on up front. The two pink things in front of him are the nerikiri in progress.<br /><br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Then we were set loose once again to try our hand at it.</span></span> It was pretty simple. You wrapped the red bean paste with the pink <span style="font-style: italic;">nerikiri</span> paste and then shaped that ball into something pretty like so:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAud1AIII/AAAAAAAAAVE/LVt2c_LFBb8/s1600/wagashi+015.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAud1AIII/AAAAAAAAAVE/LVt2c_LFBb8/s320/wagashi+015.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497629305905094786" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuBBu_7UaI/AAAAAAAAAVU/GkUrVWSsw5s/s1600/wagashi+016.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuBBu_7UaI/AAAAAAAAAVU/GkUrVWSsw5s/s320/wagashi+016.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497629636931834274" border="0" /></a>This was my final product:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAJADDA1I/AAAAAAAAATc/9TzLMaOwCm4/s1600/wagashi+002.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 293px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAJADDA1I/AAAAAAAAATc/9TzLMaOwCm4/s320/wagashi+002.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497628662255780690" border="0" /></a>And then me and the final product. :)<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAIXoFxAI/AAAAAAAAATU/zKQbVXAHjvo/s1600/wagashi+001.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 309px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuAIXoFxAI/AAAAAAAAATU/zKQbVXAHjvo/s320/wagashi+001.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497628651405296642" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Yay! It happened in a kitchen and I didn't screw it up!<br /></span></span><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span>Last picture of the day is some fancy <span style="font-style: italic;">nerikiri</span> that they put out for us to ogle.<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></span></span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuBB8kj7DI/AAAAAAAAAVc/-XRQw4SfZkA/s1600/wagashi+017.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 274px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEuBB8kj7DI/AAAAAAAAAVc/-XRQw4SfZkA/s320/wagashi+017.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497629640575151154" border="0" /></a><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-14462672733338276722010-07-23T12:52:00.003+09:002010-07-23T13:01:40.899+09:00Homesick?A lot of people have been asking me recently if I'm homesick. In the traditional sense of the word, I would have to say no. I don't really want to go back to the U.S. yet. I really like it here--the food, the culture, the weather. However, it would be really cool if friends and family from the U.S. could come here, because there's lots of stuff I would love to share with them.<br /><br />On a minor note, however, I would sincerely like a granny smith green apple.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://incensedshop.com/images/green%20apple.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 178px;" src="http://incensedshop.com/images/green%20apple.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>When my host family said that they had green apples, I got so excited. Unfortunately, by green apple they meant:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://pds.exblog.jp/pds/1/200611/08/11/e0099111_21235268.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 184px; height: 215px;" src="http://pds.exblog.jp/pds/1/200611/08/11/e0099111_21235268.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a>...which is more like a yellow apple. :(<br /><br />Oh, and brownies would be nice too.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-70983776276794410902010-07-21T12:55:00.001+09:002010-07-21T12:57:18.028+09:00DryersSo while we were waiting for the bus for the Sapporo trip, someone commented bitterly that the clothes in their bag were still wet from the washing machine. I said “Oh, you don’t have a dryer at your house?”<br /><br />Suddenly everyone else turned and looked at me and said “You do?”<br /><br />In that moment, I became the most envied person at HIF.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-81831769218370655392010-07-20T15:11:00.001+09:002010-07-20T15:13:39.031+09:00Vehicular error<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEU-e9QMEJI/AAAAAAAAATM/d4w_SGECGzw/s1600/mail.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEU-e9QMEJI/AAAAAAAAATM/d4w_SGECGzw/s320/mail.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495867621835018386" border="0" /></a><br />What you can see above is the typical mailbox in Japan. All the mail delivery vehicles are red too.<br />However, I did not put two and two together for a while and was convinced all the guys on motorbikes with red boxes on the back were pizza delivery guys.<br /><br />Then the other day while sitting in class we heard a vehicle go buy playing ice cream truck-like music. We all perked up and started commenting about ice cream.<br />Then Osaka-sensei informed us that the music was actually from a trash truck. I’m glad she explained this because she likely saved some of us from chasing down one of these trucks and then being very disappointed.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-73377373194042138672010-07-19T12:25:00.005+09:002010-07-19T12:34:08.963+09:00The Narrative of Sapporo II: The Two BeersAfter my adventure the Chocolate Factory, I returned via the subway to downtown Sapporo. Being the art-interested person that I am, I headed toward the Hokkaido Museum of Modern Art.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPGXTP6sWI/AAAAAAAAAR8/jBW5Slgdgrs/s1600/sapporo+6.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPGXTP6sWI/AAAAAAAAAR8/jBW5Slgdgrs/s320/sapporo+6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495454073928462690" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The subway train</span></span><br /></div><br />Turns out that they will accept an American college ID for the discounted student ticket. :D<br /><br />I really liked the collection there, it was all by Japanese artists and refreshingly different from collections I’ve seen in art museums in the US. I really liked this one piece called <span style="font-style: italic;">Kaze</span> (wind) by Sunazawa Bikki.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPGXKwIlwI/AAAAAAAAAR0/dot-5O4BZTE/s1600/sapporo+5.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 239px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPGXKwIlwI/AAAAAAAAAR0/dot-5O4BZTE/s320/sapporo+5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495454071647672066" border="0" /></a>I was able to do some sketches of this piece and others at the museum since I was flying solo at that point.<br /><br />Also, it was raining that day and they had a very convenient thing just outside of the museum entrance.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPGXvUqbiI/AAAAAAAAASE/Tbge8L-dYRE/s1600/sapporo+7.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPGXvUqbiI/AAAAAAAAASE/Tbge8L-dYRE/s320/sapporo+7.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495454081464561186" border="0" /></a><br />It’s an umbrella rack. You lock your umbrella into one of the slots and take the key with you. When you leave, you unlock your umbrella and leave the key in the slot for the next person. So convenient! They had the same system for your shoes in an <span style="font-style: italic;">izakaya</span> (Japanese style pub) I went to with friends back in the beginning of June. You put them in the locker, take the key, and then grab your shoes and return your key to the locker on the way out.<br /><br />After the museum I visited the old government building in downtown Sapporo. It had some really gorgeous ponds and gardens around it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPHMZoWA4I/AAAAAAAAASs/ZbfYHJ1hOww/s1600/sapporo+8.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPHMZoWA4I/AAAAAAAAASs/ZbfYHJ1hOww/s320/sapporo+8.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495454986174595970" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPHMth-UpI/AAAAAAAAAS0/tmomVDK-FEs/s1600/sapporo+9.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPHMth-UpI/AAAAAAAAAS0/tmomVDK-FEs/s320/sapporo+9.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495454991516586642" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I did a bit of souvenir shopping (got a <span style="font-style: italic;">yukata</span> for myself!) and then I met up with my friend Meagan again in the evening and we walked a very long way to the Sapporo Beer Museum… only to find it closed. :(<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPHbShGAKI/AAAAAAAAAS8/v2adVf3eIcI/s1600/sapporo+10.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPHbShGAKI/AAAAAAAAAS8/v2adVf3eIcI/s320/sapporo+10.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495455241963176098" border="0" /></a>But there was this cool train engine there. (I had my picture taken with it because I figured it made an interesting parallel with last summer when I had my picture taken with one of the emergency diesel generators at the power plant I was interning at. Now my summers will not be complete without a picture of me and an absurdly large piece of machinery).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPHbiAcgGI/AAAAAAAAATE/YfNwRp-BTKY/s1600/sapporo+11.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 278px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPHbiAcgGI/AAAAAAAAATE/YfNwRp-BTKY/s320/sapporo+11.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495455246121205858" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Luckily we also figured out that there was a subway stop just off the edge of our guide map and we were able to take that back to downtown Sapporo.<br /><br />Sapporo is famous for the beer brand and also for its miso ramen, which consists of thin noodles in a <span style="font-style: italic;">miso</span> (soybean paste) based soup. It is also much more delicious than I just made it sound. And the real ramen over here should not be confused with nor even compared with the 10 cents per block o’noodles stuff over here. So, for dinner, we tried to find Sapporo’s historic Ramen Alley.<br /><br />Ok, I have to admit this was the only time I failed at navigation over here. But it was really crowded and crazy in this particular part of town and the Ramen Alley actually turned out to be really small and hard to notice.<br /><br />Anyway, we eventually got there. (If you stand on a street corner with a map and look confused for long enough, inevitably a Japanese person will take pity on you and try to send you in the right direction). (Though in our case we were sent in the wrong direction, but figured in out in the end). We picked from one of the many ramen shops and ordered our miso ramen. Not unexpectedly, it was delicious.<br /><br />Afterward we headed back to the area of the train station. Out in front of the station, they had a summer beer festival. This consists of lots of tables outside and some vendors with beer and bar-type food. Also, good music. Meagan and I decided that since we were in Sapporo, we may as well try Sapporo <span style="font-style: italic;">namabiiru</span> (literally “raw beer”, actually just beer from the tap).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPGW9PWqeI/AAAAAAAAARs/R9mZnjlkvEM/s1600/sapporo+1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 244px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TEPGW9PWqeI/AAAAAAAAARs/R9mZnjlkvEM/s320/sapporo+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495454068020521442" border="0" /></a>Ah, the sweet taste of a drinking age of 20. (The beer was good too).<br /><br />Next time, the conclusion of my adventures in Sapporo! (Or maybe some other posts between that if I’m feeling too lazy to type another huge post. Scratch the maybe and insert a highly likely).Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-72424354738886679642010-07-16T13:01:00.003+09:002010-07-16T13:07:18.321+09:00Warning: Laughter May OccurI don't want to overload you with posts, but I did want to post this video before I forgot. It's a hilarious parody of the various mistaken beliefs about eating at sushi places. Don't believe any of it. Just enjoy.<br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/qCpbBVthD7o&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/qCpbBVthD7o&hl=en_US&fs=1?rel=0" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="640" height="505"></embed></object><br /><br />P.S. If you want to see a bigger version, just click the box with the four arrows in it on the bottom right of the video.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-48076083545974996952010-07-16T08:34:00.004+09:002010-07-16T08:44:18.553+09:00The Narrative of Sapporo I: The Fellowship of the HIF Students (Or not)<span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">(I’ve got a lot to post about Sapporo. To make it easier for everyone at home, I’m going to break the Sapporo blog post up like an epic film—trilogy time! Here’s the first installment.)</span></span><br /><br />Last weekend HIF set me and 33 other students loose in Sapporo.<br /><br />Sapporo never saw it coming.<br /><br />Just kidding. Despite the fact that nearly all of us are old enough to buy alcohol here in Japan, shameless shenanigans did not ensue. Indeed, we kept it to levels of dilute debauchery. (And here’s some additional aggravating alliteration!)<br /><br />Here are some pictures that I took in Sapporo the first night that we were there:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cOUIxZbI/AAAAAAAAARc/fgtoeWU8p0U/s1600/sapporo+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cOUIxZbI/AAAAAAAAARc/fgtoeWU8p0U/s320/sapporo+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281840152896946" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cN5wgZnI/AAAAAAAAARU/JbGirlANwUo/s1600/sapporo+2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cN5wgZnI/AAAAAAAAARU/JbGirlANwUo/s320/sapporo+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281833071797874" border="0" /></a>Yup, there’s a Ferris Wheel on top of one of those buildings.<br />Our room in the Sapporo House Youth Hostel was a little less glamorous:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cO59t5mI/AAAAAAAAARk/FayG0emLuc0/s1600/sapporo+4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cO59t5mI/AAAAAAAAARk/FayG0emLuc0/s320/sapporo+4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281850307077730" border="0" /></a><br />The best part was you didn’t need an alarm clock because the train tracks ran right over the hostel. I now know that if I ever need to take a train late at night or absurdly early in the morning, the Sapporo train station has me covered.<br /><br />I took the chance to gallivant about the city on my own as much as possible. As nice as it is to hang out with groups of other HIF students, when it comes to sightseeing, I’d like to see what I’d like to see, not just go shopping and bar-hopping all weekend.<br /><br />(I have a particular disinclination to group sightseeing after my trip to France in high school – at that point, staying with the group was mandatory. When the group of my high school peers was given the choice between the Louvre and shopping, can you guess what the group of mindless consumption driven* teenagers decided to do? Yeah. Shopping. I was robbed of my chance to explore the greatest art museum in the world and subsequently dragged along to the Louis Vuitton store where I was used as a human calculator to figure out the dollar cost of various purses). (Gee, did that sound bitter?)<br /><br />Anyway, during my travels on Saturday, my friend Meagan and I went to the Shiroi Koibito Park and Ishiya chocolate factory. Oh yes, I found a chocolate factory in Japan. I’m a chocoholic—I’ve got radar for these sorts of things.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-bvrw4JhI/AAAAAAAAAQM/whRJCzElcNE/s1600/chocolate+2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-bvrw4JhI/AAAAAAAAAQM/whRJCzElcNE/s320/chocolate+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281313919182354" border="0" /></a>They had a museum with all sorts of cool stuff, like these over-the-top decorative antique hot cocoa cups:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-bwb9TfUI/AAAAAAAAAQc/Enqffu_yRJY/s1600/chocolate+4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-bwb9TfUI/AAAAAAAAAQc/Enqffu_yRJY/s320/chocolate+4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281326856207682" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-bwOX3ABI/AAAAAAAAAQU/WDfDraRHYsM/s1600/chocolate+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-bwOX3ABI/AAAAAAAAAQU/WDfDraRHYsM/s320/chocolate+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281323209490450" border="0" /></a><br />And then all these old school chocolate boxes:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-b-rOFgeI/AAAAAAAAAQk/8YY2dHJiCMg/s1600/chocolate+5.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-b-rOFgeI/AAAAAAAAAQk/8YY2dHJiCMg/s320/chocolate+5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281571471294946" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Heck, even the trash can was pretty ritzy (apologies for the awful picture quality on this one!):<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-b-7XYPoI/AAAAAAAAAQs/EEkvnbUMX_c/s1600/chocolate+6.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-b-7XYPoI/AAAAAAAAAQs/EEkvnbUMX_c/s320/chocolate+6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281575805238914" border="0" /></a>And they had these adorable signs when there was a staff entrance:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-b_VxMzAI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/SCl3pbfV-mQ/s1600/chocolate+7.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-b_VxMzAI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/SCl3pbfV-mQ/s320/chocolate+7.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281582892862466" border="0" /></a>I’m not quite sure where the cat theme came from, but you also had to follow cat paw prints on the floor throughout the museum.<br /><br />After the museum and an exhibit about how they make chocolate (that was in a tunnel that was designed to look like it was made out of molten chocolate) you got to see the factory:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cNH5aL2I/AAAAAAAAARE/doUt-fDiQVM/s1600/chocolate+9.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cNH5aL2I/AAAAAAAAARE/doUt-fDiQVM/s320/chocolate+9.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281819687366498" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-b_4t3KpI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/-qffCEjyWSY/s1600/chocolate+8.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-b_4t3KpI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/-qffCEjyWSY/s320/chocolate+8.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281592274102930" border="0" /></a><br /><br />You can see them making the Shiroi Koibito cookies that the Ishiya chocolate company is famous for and that the park is named for. They’re comprised of these two thin buttery cookies with white chocolate between and they’re sold exclusively on Hokkaido, Japan’s northern island. We got complimentary ones as part of the tour. :)<br /><br />After the tour, we stopped in their Chocolate Lounge, which had an amazing view.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cNXf7YpI/AAAAAAAAARM/39e_LnPGCZw/s1600/chocolate+10.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-cNXf7YpI/AAAAAAAAARM/39e_LnPGCZw/s320/chocolate+10.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281823875457682" border="0" /></a>I got white chocolate milk (so decadent!) and some chocolate cake (ganache, maybe? At any rate, it was delicious!). Meagan and I were goofing around a bit so I have this lovely picture of me. I am clearly unable to keep a straight face when posing with chocolate goodies. (Actually, I find it difficult to keep a straight face in any situation, desserts involved or not).<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-bvdZLZGI/AAAAAAAAAQE/wIJcKgKxr1Y/s1600/chocolate+1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TD-bvdZLZGI/AAAAAAAAAQE/wIJcKgKxr1Y/s320/chocolate+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5494281310061683810" border="0" /></a><br /><br />After that, Meagan went to meet her Japanese teacher from her home university who was also in Sapporo, and I found my way to the Hokkaido Modern Art Museum… which I will describe in The Narrative of Sapporo II: The Two Beers!<br /><br />*Bonus points to anyone who can figure out the movie reference here.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-78583227082026715732010-07-15T12:36:00.003+09:002010-07-15T12:48:42.540+09:00Postcard Contest Answers!Here are the answers to the second postcard challenge:<br /><br />1. Remon (Raymon) - Lemon<br />2. Saakaa (Sawkaw) - Soccer<br />3. Hoteru (hotayru) - Hotel<br />4. Bosuton - Boston<br />5. Chipusu -Chips<br />6. Hanbaagaa -Hamburger<br />7. Bideo - Video<br />8. shatsu - Shirt<br />9. Koohii - Coffee<br />10. Chiken - Chicken<br />11. Nyuuyooku - New York<br />12. Pasuta - Pasta<br />13. haihiiru - High heel<br />14. Sarada - Salad<br />15. Aisu kurimu - Ice cream<br />16. Kamera - Camera<br />17. Kariforunia - California (As my Dad pointed out, the Japanese pronunciation is very much like that of the state's current governor).<br />18. Chokoreeto (chokorayto) - Chocolate<br />19. Terebi - T.V.<br />20. Supootsu - Sports<br /><br />The three winners will be receiving a surprise postcard in the near future. :) (Aka Veronica hasn't bought the postcards yet, so she can't post pictures...)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-84020346594240108562010-07-13T12:38:00.003+09:002010-07-13T12:49:15.922+09:00Recycling Mania!The feeling in the States is that sometime recycling is just too gosh darned inconvenient. It's just so difficult to take some of your trash and put it in another bin.<br /><br />However, upon seeing Japan's recycling/waste system, I have decided Americans need to suck it up.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDvgTl5Y0BI/AAAAAAAAAP8/45V6l7aVAvM/s1600/recycling.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDvgTl5Y0BI/AAAAAAAAAP8/45V6l7aVAvM/s400/recycling.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493230797703401490" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The trash bins at HIF</span></span><br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">There are only five different bins for our district, but apparently the next town over has seven. That's right folks. Seven.<br /><br /></div></div>Part of our orientation was a tutorial on how to throw stuff away. Now you may be confused as to what is burnable and what isn't. So far as I can tell, this isn't a question of should it be burned/will it release toxic chemicals if it burns. The only question is "will it burn if enough heat is applied?" So things like styrofoam get to go in there too. Not so sure if this is a good thing...<br /><br />Anyway, there will be a post to come about my adventures in Sapporo, Hokkaido's capital, but for now I must ask that Tim, my brother, no longer be called Nacho. It was his birthday yesterday and this is his present.<br /><br />Also, participate in the postcard contest! No one who has e-mailed me so far has gotten them all--will you be the one???Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-78333251024995385502010-07-08T06:31:00.006+09:002010-07-08T13:59:31.958+09:00Tanabata and Second Postcard Contest!<span style="font-style: italic;">So I’m going away this weekend to Sapporo, the main city of Hokkaido, Japan’s northern island. (Right now I’m in Hakodate, which is a city in southern Hokkaido). I won’t be bringing my laptop with me, so that means no blogging, so I’m going to leave you with a nice long post to read and another postcard contest! Yay!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">First off, </span><span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;">Tanabata</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">!</span></span> It’s like Halloween, only in July! :D Candy and children’s subsequent hyperactive joy abounds!<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Tanabata</span> is every July 7th here in Japan. The day is based on a legend about Orihime, a daughter of a god, and her lover, Hikoboshi. The story goes that Orihime was very serious girl. She would wake up every day and go weave cloth on her loom (the fabric of the universe? A tie for Dad?). She did this all day every day. Eventually her father decided that she should be married. So he searched the universe for an appropriate suitor.<br /><br />He found Hikoboshi, a cow farmer on the far side of the Milky Way. (No, seriously.)(It actually only translates as a really bad pun. The literal Japanese name for the Milky Way is the River of the Heavens, so the cow and milk connection isn’t there). Anyway, Hikoboshi was just as serious and dedicated to his work as Orihime, so the father decided they were a good match. Hikoboshi and Orihime got married.<br /><br />What dear old dad didn’t count on was them liking each other so much that they decided to hang out together all the time and never work. He got pretty cross about this (it meant he wasn’t getting anymore ties made of the fabric of the universe, and he really liked those) and decided to break up the marriage. The two weren’t allowed to see each other anymore. Naturally, Orihime cried her eyes out every day, and the subsequent guilt trip her father went through<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.k4.dion.ne.jp/%7Eohkubo/LOVELOG_IMG/8EB5975B02.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 271px; height: 251px;" src="http://www.k4.dion.ne.jp/%7Eohkubo/LOVELOG_IMG/8EB5975B02.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a> made him willing to compromise.<br /><br />The final solution was that Orihime and Hikoboshi could see each other one day a year (don’t ask me how they kept track of days and years when they weren’t on a planet). Anyway, that day is July 7th, Tanabata, and the belief is that wishes, like Orihime and Hikoboshi’s wish to be together, will be fulfilled on this day.<br /><br />What the Japanese do to celebrate is put the branches of bamboo up outside the doors of shops and decorate them with paper and origami ornaments. They also write wishes on colorful pieces of paper and hang them up. I snapped a couple pictures of these on my way home today.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDTzYjsBeWI/AAAAAAAAAPk/JiJwztidMyk/s1600/tanabata+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDTzYjsBeWI/AAAAAAAAAPk/JiJwztidMyk/s320/tanabata+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491281448893774178" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDTzYI90EiI/AAAAAAAAAPc/wdm9eUvBr44/s1600/tanabata+2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 241px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDTzYI90EiI/AAAAAAAAAPc/wdm9eUvBr44/s320/tanabata+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491281441720635938" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDTzJGbnHBI/AAAAAAAAAO8/Z9qgbQEMOoI/s1600/tanabata+1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDTzJGbnHBI/AAAAAAAAAO8/Z9qgbQEMOoI/s320/tanabata+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491281183342271506" border="0" /></a><br />In the afternoon and evening, kids dress up in <span style="font-style: italic;">yukata </span>(like what I got to try on in my kimono class) and go around the places that have the <span style="font-style: italic;">Tanabata </span>branches, sing a song, and receive candy.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://image.blog.livedoor.jp/aryasen/imgs/d/f/dfde056f.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 317px; height: 209px;" src="http://image.blog.livedoor.jp/aryasen/imgs/d/f/dfde056f.JPG" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Random google image of some kids on Tanabata</span></span><br /></div><br />I’m seriously wishing I was a kid right now. Or that I at least had a kid in my host family I could walk around with.<br /><br />So that’s <span style="font-style: italic;">Tanabata</span> for you. :)<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">Now onto the second post card contest!</span></span><br /><br />If you won a postcard last time, you can’t win one again, but you can still participate if you like!<br /><br />This time I’m going to provide a list of English words… but in their Japanese forms. There a fewer sounds in Japanese, so a lot of English words get approximated. Like my name, for example. It’s Veronica, but since there is no “v” sound, I go by <span style="font-style: italic;">Beronika</span> here, which is close enough. Smith College is even more interesting. In Japanese, Smith is <span style="font-style: italic;">Sumisu</span>.<br /><br />So here’s the challenge—figure out the original English words for these Japanese words. You can’t use a dictionary in any form this time. You just have to try and sound it out on your own. I’ve got one tip though to make it a smidge less difficult.<br /><br />Tip: There is no “L” sound in Japanese, so it is approximated with their “R” sound. (i.e. re may actually be le, or it may just be re).<br /><br />Send me an e-mail with as many answers as you can get (<span style="font-weight: bold;">no dictionaries, no googling, no nothing! Nothing but you and the words!</span>) and next Thursday (Late Wednesday evening for y’all) I’ll figure out who got the most correct, and the top three will win postcards! (What kind of postcards will come in a later post). My e-mail is vfalconi@smith.edu.<br /><br />I hope you’re ready, because here’s your list. (I included some pronunciation clarifications in parentheses). Some of it’s food, some of it’s places, some of it’s random other stuff. Good luck!<br /><br />1.Remon (Raymon)<br />2.Sakkaa (Sawkaw)<br />3.Hoteru (hotayru)<br />4.Bosuton<br />5.Chipusu<br />6.Hanbaagaa<br />7.Bideo<br />8.shatsu<br />9.Koohii<br />10.Chiken<br />11.Nyuuyooku<br />12.Pasuta<br />13.haihiiru<br />14.Sarada<br />15.Aisu kurimu<br />16.Kamera<br />17.Kariforunia<br />18.Chokoreeto (chokorayto)<br />19.Terebi<br />20.SupootsuUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-3522948582727130152010-07-07T12:53:00.002+09:002010-07-07T13:00:17.602+09:00Gooya no Hi<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://kenyuclub.blog.eonet.jp/photos/uncategorized/2009/07/31/002.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 206px; height: 275px;" src="http://kenyuclub.blog.eonet.jp/photos/uncategorized/2009/07/31/002.gif" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Recently in class we talked about <span style="font-style: italic;">gooya no hi</span>, which is a shorthand way of saying May 8th. <span style="font-style: italic;">Gooya</span> is also a homophone for a type of vegetable from Okinawa, so on the May 8th, many Japanese eat food with <span style="font-style: italic;">gooya</span> to celebrate the day. (You can see a picture of <span style="font-style: italic;">gooya</span> on the right. It's sometimes referred to as "bitter melon").<br /><br />You can also change your birthday date into shorthand and see if it means anything. Mine, for example, shortens into <span style="font-style: italic;">toushi</span>. There are three definitions in the dictionary for this one. The first is “death by freezing.” That’s a little morbid, so let’s skip that. The second is “fighting spirit”. So cool! Then the last was “investment”, which was pretty lame. I think I’ll stick with the second.<br /><br />I then went and tried to figure out my family’s birthdays. Dad turned out to be <span style="font-style: italic;">gochomi</span>, which doesn’t mean anything. Then Tim was <span style="font-style: italic;">nachomi</span>, which also doesn’t mean anything. (But it does begin with nacho! If you know Tim and see him anytime soon, please call him Nacho for me). (I know. I’m such a nice, considerate sister).<br /><br />Mom lucked out though. Her shorthand birthday was <span style="font-style: italic;">niko</span>. <span style="font-style: italic;">Nikoniko</span> means “smilingly; with a happy smile”. I thought it was pretty accurate. :)<br /><br />I’m not sure how to do all dates, but if you’re interested post your birthday and I’ll see what I can do!Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-18796338027170840662010-07-05T08:38:00.004+09:002010-07-05T08:50:18.799+09:00Asahi Elementary SchoolLast week we got a chance to visit Asahi Elementary School. We each had a group and had to prepare games for our visit.<br /><br />When we first walked in, they showed us to tables with our name tags.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEb4BabbJI/AAAAAAAAAOE/xy6Vi15COwc/s1600/asahi+1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEb4BabbJI/AAAAAAAAAOE/xy6Vi15COwc/s320/asahi+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490200070007254162" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Um, adorable much? (Also, don't mind the crazy hair--it was raining that day).</span><br /></span></div><br />Some of the kids could see us already as we were waiting by the front entrance, and started waving to us through the window. After a couple minutes of this, someone decided they should at least be productive if they were going to stand there and emphatically wave their arms at us, so they were handed towels so they could "wash the windows".<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEb4qVKchI/AAAAAAAAAOM/GyfCxrqEY9I/s1600/asahi+2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEb4qVKchI/AAAAAAAAAOM/GyfCxrqEY9I/s320/asahi+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490200080991023634" border="0" /></a>(By the time I took the picture though they were getting a bit tired. They had been quite animated though).<br /><br />Finally they lined us up and welcomed us into the gym, where all the kids were assembled.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEb4yOSuXI/AAAAAAAAAOU/dnmmuBPgbF8/s1600/asahi+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEb4yOSuXI/AAAAAAAAAOU/dnmmuBPgbF8/s320/asahi+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490200083109689714" border="0" /></a><br />Then they abducted their first victims...<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEcA6N4_cI/AAAAAAAAAOc/BVIh5n6cBO4/s1600/asahi+4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEcA6N4_cI/AAAAAAAAAOc/BVIh5n6cBO4/s320/asahi+4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490200222694440386" border="0" /></a><br />To play a mass game of <span style="font-style: italic;">jan ken pon</span> (rock, paper, scissors)!<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEcBX0OE1I/AAAAAAAAAOk/q4LjN6DKs9o/s1600/asahi+5.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEcBX0OE1I/AAAAAAAAAOk/q4LjN6DKs9o/s320/asahi+5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490200230639833938" border="0" /></a>(If you beat someone, they line up behind you and put their hands on your shoulders. Then you go against another pair, and if you beat them, they line up behind you too). (The kids in the front were screwing around just for our benefit--they were hilarious).<br /><br />We also got to play tug-o-war.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEcBos7EiI/AAAAAAAAAOs/kGl6lmYrcpM/s1600/asahi+6.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TDEcBos7EiI/AAAAAAAAAOs/kGl6lmYrcpM/s320/asahi+6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5490200235172631074" border="0" /></a>After all the mass games in the gym, we broke off into small groups to go to individual classes and play some games like duck, duck, goose. Overall, pretty fun. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-2601452115099173312010-07-03T11:16:00.005+09:002010-07-03T11:33:31.503+09:00Ohnuma ParkSo I finally got around to processing the pictures I took at Ohnuma Park. (Ohnuma park was the place where I had to sing the froofy boy band song… yep, now you know what I’m talking about). It was really gorgeous, and the weather was great too. My friends and I rented bikes and rode around the lake a bit.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6fWhTpdgI/AAAAAAAAAMs/ePwXcmDztQw/s1600/ohnuma+1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6fWhTpdgI/AAAAAAAAAMs/ePwXcmDztQw/s320/ohnuma+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489500205057930754" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6fXHzyVZI/AAAAAAAAAM0/AgSkFR4yBZ0/s1600/ohnuma+2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6fXHzyVZI/AAAAAAAAAM0/AgSkFR4yBZ0/s320/ohnuma+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489500215393277330" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6fXeZXGyI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Y-XPiGxtgcM/s1600/ohnuma+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6fXeZXGyI/AAAAAAAAAM8/Y-XPiGxtgcM/s320/ohnuma+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489500221456456482" border="0" /></a><br />I took lots of pictures of the scenery too. There were islands in the lake connected by bridges so you could walk around on them.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6gUVAkS4I/AAAAAAAAANM/PRYhn3byeJc/s1600/ohnuma+5.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6gUVAkS4I/AAAAAAAAANM/PRYhn3byeJc/s320/ohnuma+5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489501266908564354" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6gVP6nq0I/AAAAAAAAANc/XsZHx71azgI/s1600/ohnuma+7.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6gVP6nq0I/AAAAAAAAANc/XsZHx71azgI/s320/ohnuma+7.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489501282721311554" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6gUktg5PI/AAAAAAAAANU/629-5ItkIgs/s1600/ohnuma+6.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6gUktg5PI/AAAAAAAAANU/629-5ItkIgs/s320/ohnuma+6.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489501271123617010" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6gVbvNlwI/AAAAAAAAANk/jOwvDCA4FBY/s1600/ohnuma+8.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6gVbvNlwI/AAAAAAAAANk/jOwvDCA4FBY/s320/ohnuma+8.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489501285894690562" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6g0rG0c1I/AAAAAAAAANs/kJl2TMUPXRQ/s1600/ohnuma+9.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6g0rG0c1I/AAAAAAAAANs/kJl2TMUPXRQ/s320/ohnuma+9.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489501822596182866" border="0" /></a><br />This one goes out to the train enthusiast in my life. He knows who he is. This is a Japan Railways train headed for the JR station in Ohnuma. It's not a bullet train, but I'll be able to check those out first-hand on my trip back to Tokyo in August.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6fXhYTyoI/AAAAAAAAANE/klanXdP1wl8/s1600/ohnuma+4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6fXhYTyoI/AAAAAAAAANE/klanXdP1wl8/s320/ohnuma+4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489500222257351298" border="0" /></a><br /><br />That mountain you can see in the background of some of the pictures is a now dormant volcano. Not only does it look cool, it also means that there’s hot springs! Yay! The hotel we stayed in had an <span style="font-style: italic;">onsen</span> (public bath) fed with jacuzzi-hot water from the hot springs. I got to try those out Sunday morning. It was pretty cool because the <span style="font-style: italic;">onsen</span> are set up with separate girls’ sides and guys’ sides. You go in, change from your clothes into your birthday suit (yup, your birthday suit, not your bathing suit), take a shower, and then are free to go enjoy the <span style="font-style: italic;">onsen</span>. The hotel had an outdoor<span style="font-style: italic;"> onsen</span> as well, which was really nice. Inside, they had Jacuzzi-type <span style="font-style: italic;">onsen</span> too with all the jets and bubbles and whatnot. No actual pictures of this one, but this is from Google and looks a bit like the hotel <span style="font-style: italic;">onsen</span>.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.bornplaydie.com/japan/travel/shizuoka/onsen.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 368px; height: 276px;" src="http://www.bornplaydie.com/japan/travel/shizuoka/onsen.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />We also got a huge dinner on Saturday night. There were so many dishes!<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6g09qPABI/AAAAAAAAAN0/TedFI02XIOw/s1600/ohnuma+10.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6g09qPABI/AAAAAAAAAN0/TedFI02XIOw/s320/ohnuma+10.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489501827576561682" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">All the dishes</span><br /></span></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6g1JaarbI/AAAAAAAAAN8/zAWVq0lY5-k/s1600/ohnuma+11.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC6g1JaarbI/AAAAAAAAAN8/zAWVq0lY5-k/s320/ohnuma+11.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489501830731443634" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">People taking pictures of all the dishes</span><br /></span></div><br />On the left is a cooking bowl with a burner under it. This was for <span style="font-style: italic;">sukiyaki</span>. You put all the ingredients you want in the broth, put a beaten egg on top, and then let it cook. Once you’re happy with it, you just extinguish the burner and eat it. (Well, there’s a little more time in between those two actions than that sentence implies, unless you want your taste buds lightly seared too).<br /><br />There was <span style="font-style: italic;">sashimi</span> (cuts of raw fish), <span style="font-style: italic;">tempura</span> (lightly battered and fried fish and vegetables), cooked fish, meat with<span style="font-style: italic;"> ikura</span> (fish eggs) on top, and veggies with these sort of crab-veggie cakes. It was a lot of seafood, so my dojo compadre with a severe seafood allergy would have died (again, he knows who he is--and so does everybody else in the dojo), but it was delicious. :)<br /><br />Oh, and there was rice too, of course. It’s pretty much a staple with any Japanese type meal.<br /><br />I should note that not everything I eat over here is fish and rice. I get a lot of western-type food too, though often at surprising times. (I’ve had an omelet at dinner and a hot dog at breakfast.) (My just-woken-up brain had difficulty wrapping around the concept of a hot dog for breakfast that morning). It all still tastes good though. :)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-75742554075483180572010-07-02T15:32:00.004+09:002010-07-02T15:39:41.474+09:00KimonoAlright, so the blog has been lagging a bit this week, at least by my estimation. I actually have no quantitative evidence for that because I am not currently online to compare the number of posts I did this week vs. past weeks. But if I was online I would do it. (That just tells you how much of a nerd I am. Can’t just trust my feelings, you know. Got to gather data and do some statistical analysis.) I’m pretty sure this has happened because the posts I want to do are image intensive and I’ve felt a little too lazy to resize all the pictures and get them posted.<br /><br />Well, today I’m sucking it up and giving you pictures. Rejoice and be glad! (No, seriously, do it. Otherwise my efforts will be wasted and then I’ll be grumpy that you didn’t appreciate the product of my sort-of-hard-but-mostly-just-tedious work).<br /><br />I just finished my special, one-time kimono class here at HIF. We got to learn how to put on <span style="font-style: italic;">yukata</span> (the most casual form of kimono). Since I’m pretty tall, Okaasan lent me hers for today, which was pretty cool.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2IfCwX2VI/AAAAAAAAAMc/GRdWIHcQ81A/s1600/kimono+4.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2IfCwX2VI/AAAAAAAAAMc/GRdWIHcQ81A/s320/kimono+4.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489193587731585362" border="0" /></a><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2IeZInTzI/AAAAAAAAAMM/-TL050DE3lE/s1600/kimono+2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2IeZInTzI/AAAAAAAAAMM/-TL050DE3lE/s320/kimono+2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489193576558972722" border="0" /></a>Let me tell you, tying the <span style="font-style: italic;">obi </span>(belt) was a fun time. And the way we did it was apparently the simplest way.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2IeqOFGVI/AAAAAAAAAMU/_r8eCjmiJ5I/s1600/kimono+3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 166px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2IeqOFGVI/AAAAAAAAAMU/_r8eCjmiJ5I/s320/kimono+3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489193581145299282" border="0" /></a><br />Might I also note that the guys’ <span style="font-style: italic;">yukata</span> are much easier to put on? Totally unfair. (But probably because they couldn’t handle the process of putting on a woman’s <span style="font-style: italic;">yukata</span>).(It’s at this point that the male viewers of my blog, finding this to be one insult too many, decided to stop reading). (Unless they’re really tough and stick with it.) (See what I did there? Now you’re not tough if you stop reading.)<br /><br />Anyway, we also got to see the really fancy kimono, and I got a chance to try on the wedding jacket.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2IfYdiIEI/AAAAAAAAAMk/fGIYxvcI-pU/s1600/kimono+5.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2IfYdiIEI/AAAAAAAAAMk/fGIYxvcI-pU/s320/kimono+5.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489193593558147138" border="0" /></a>That was so heavy it was like wearing a comforter! Sign me up for a winter wedding! (Not only is there that jacket, there are also several other layers of kimono underneath. You can see that in the picture below. Apparently there is a style of kimono from the 8th century that is 12 layers and is considered the most beautiful. Women of the royal family wear that for their weddings). (See, aren’t you glad you’re not royalty now?)<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2Id3HbblI/AAAAAAAAAME/sx5SAWmrwH0/s1600/kimono+1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_tnpwaKKLTPI/TC2Id3HbblI/AAAAAAAAAME/sx5SAWmrwH0/s320/kimono+1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489193567427194450" border="0" /></a>After that we got to learn how to walk around and sit down. Then, of course, there was folding it up and putting it away, which was another whole process... I think I know why people so rarely wear them now!<br /><br />(Just a reminder--to see a larger version of any of the pictures, just click on it.)Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6702799633062918030.post-39781164123319829002010-07-01T08:35:00.000+09:002010-07-01T08:43:50.547+09:00BikesCommuting by bike is very common in Hakodate and in Japan. Business people and students alike do it. Last night at dinner when I looked up at the TV from the tedious work of breaking <span style="font-style: italic;">tonkatsu</span> (Fried pork cutlet) up with chopsticks, I saw a news feature about a safety program about bikes being presented to Japanese elementary school students.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;">The students were all seated in the gym of their school and were watching with expressions ranging from shock to boredom as stuntmen theatrically crashed bicycles into each other and went flying across the room. Lucky for the stuntmen, these staged traffic accidents also featured mats in addition to projectile tumbling.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://thumbnail.image.rakuten.co.jp/@0_mall/thepowerful/cabinet/kansya2/cy-spf224-s.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 286px; height: 286px;" src="http://thumbnail.image.rakuten.co.jp/@0_mall/thepowerful/cabinet/kansya2/cy-spf224-s.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">The typical Japanese commuter bike</span></span><br /></div><br />It seems that bicycle accidents are a problem in Japan since bicycle commuting is so common. Having seen some of the multi-tasking that happens on bikes first hand, I am not surprised.<br /><br />I’ve seen umbrella-carrying, texting, and umbrella-carrying-while-texting on bikes in Hakodate. The texting is generally perpetrated by high school students, though I have seen a few younger business men do it.<br /><br />One Nishi high school student is a quasi-celebrity among HIF students. (Nishi high school is at the top of the very steep hill that HIF is on). She cannonballs downhill past HIF everyday on her bike at speeds that have to be somewhere near 30 mph, and has been reputedly been seen texting while doing it. This has earned her the respect and admiration of the guys who wish they were that cool, and sarcastic quips of “Oh, that’s a smart idea…” from those of the more reasonable gender.<br /><br />So the moral of the story is, don’t be afraid to crash your bike, because as that bike safety program demonstrated, there will be mats to land on.<br /><br />Well, maybe not.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1