A Fish Out of Water

Mei Tai

This is one of the four baby carriers I own (carriers are one of those things, like strollers and diaper bags, that nobody seems to get just right, causing you to go through several before finding one you like or at least tolerate). It's a mei tai, which is a traditional Chinese carrier that is wonderful for its simplicity and comfort. It was made in America by Mei Tai Baby and cost a small fortune to ship, but as mei tais are hard to find here in Japan it was worth it.

I was originally interested in a mei tai because I'd read about how comfortable they are and that they could be used with newborns. I'd been having trouble getting the hang of my sling, and totally hated the Japanese-made hand-me-down carrier we had, and when my mei tai finally arrived when Shuma was about a month old, I fell in love. Daily walks have been the norm ever since, with none of the soreness or worry that Shuma would suffocate/break his neck/fall out I experienced with the other carriers. It is even more comfortable than my Ergo (my other favourite carrier), especially for long distances- it somehow fits perfectly to both of our bodies and doesn't pull on or dig into any one part. And it doesn't cause wobble-head when Shuma falls asleep, at least when worn in front- the straps and positioning keep his head steady (and there is a head rest panel that can be worn just in case).

It's also fairly sleek and when tied in the front carry can be worn under a regular jacket. For my pre-Shuma jackets I leave then unbuttoned/zipped, or just do up the bottom. And when it's really cold I have a coat bought a few sizes too big that can be done all the way up.

The best thing about my mei tai is that it has nifty interchangeable front panels. This dinosaur print is one of six panels that I have, and if you think six is a lot then I suggest you check out the fabrics available- it was very hard to narrow it down. Those rainbow stripes, by the way, are not part of the carrier: they're baby leg warmers, worn on the shoulder straps to protect the mei tai from drool. You can see Shuma taking a chomp on the strap above.

There are a few drawbacks to the mei tai though. One is that the straps are long enough to drag on the floor as you put it on, so if you keep house the way I do (as in, the floor is lucky if it gets swept once a week) then you'll end up with linty, dust bunny-covered straps. The length of the straps also makes it a bit awkward to take Shuma out of the carrier when we're out, especially when we're on public transportation (exactly when he is most likely to want out). So I tend to use the mei tai only for local walks.

Another potential problem is body heat. So far it's been great in that being so close keeps us both warm, but I don't think it will be very nice in the summer. Most carriers have the same problem though. Also not the mei tai's fault: my husband doesn't like it. He admits it's comfortable but claims it's too hard to put on (although my Dad got the hang of it after a few tries) and looks too girly. True, the bow in front shown here is a bit feminine, but there are other, more manly ways to tie it. But I've stopped pestering him to use it, because if I can be picky about carriers, it's only fair that he can too.But if I'd known I'd be the only one using it I would have got it in purple. Sadly the black shows every speck of lint, something I should have anticipated after a couple decades of wearing black clothes.

Finally, it would have been nice if this had a little pocket or two sewn in somewhere, something I love about my sling and my Ergo. Somewhere to keep my keys, a train pass, and a little handkerchief. If I were a better sewer I'd add one myself, but then again if I were that good I could just sew my own mei tai- there are plenty of patterns online. But I'm not sure I'd be able to find all those funky fabrics.

Speaking of which, here's a close-up of the dinosaur panel. In an imaginary world where I had the time and skills to sew, where Shuma had his own room, and where every fabric store carried patterns like this, I'd buy fabric and make curtains for the baby room.

Shopping in Iruma

On Friday I made my third visit to the new outlet mall in Iruma, so I thought I'd take a few pictures and post about it. It's part of the Mitsui Outlet Park chain (which has six more outlets in the Kansai and Kanto areas), and is apparently the biggest outlet mall in Japan with some 204 shops. Located in Saitama near the border of Tokyo, it's a quick drive or train ride from the city. 

I've never been to a Mitsui mall before, but they seem to get a lot of things right that their competitors get wrong. Like plenty of on-site parking (as opposed to the outlet mall in Gotemba that has you park blocks away and take a shuttle bus to the mall), enough places to eat, and a family zone where kids can play.

It looks like any other outlet mall though, and if it weren't for the miniature cars and the kanji on the pavement you'd never know you were in Japan.

The layout is new to me, as in Canada our malls are either completely indoors or completely outdoors (the "big-box mall" which is a cluster of giant, free-standing stores). This semi-encloused style is pleasant this time of year but I imagine it won't be much fun in mid-summer or winter. I imagine the design comes straight from southern California.

I don't actually find the prices to be all that cheap, partly because the original prices were already so high and partly because the discounts can be pretty paltry (and even non-existent, with plenty of items going for regular prices). And there are only a few shops that even have clothes in my size. But there are a few bargains to be found, and enough non-clothing stores to make shopping kind of fun.

The reason I'm going so often? It's relatively close, and until June 30th there is a free shuttle bus from the nearest station. It's a big comfy tourist bus and I'll be taking advantage of it a few more times before it ends. For those coming from Tokyo, it's a 33 to 43 minute ride from Ikebukuro on the Seibu Ikebukuro express train to Musashi-fujisawa Station, then 15 minutes on the shuttle bus, which comes from two to six times on the hour (schedule here in Japanese, at the bottom of the page). From July you'll need to take the 40 minute express from Ikebukuro to Iruma-shi Station and take a regular city bus (schedule here in Japanese, at the top of the page) to the mall.

I was there around lunch so I popped into the food court and settled on pasta when I saw it being made fresh with a hand-cranked pasta maker. It was a fast-food style outlet of the To the Herbs chain, which I've found to be decent. I ordered Hakata mentaiko (spicy cod roe) cream pasta, 740 yen, and only after that did I notice that the pasta coming out of the machine, apparently fettuccine, was drier and yellower than regular fresh pasta--perhaps a quick cooking type? I waited no more than five minutes and when I was called back to the counter this is what I saw. My mentaiko (spicy cod roe) cream pasta already looking old and dried out. I don't know how they managed to do that in such a short time, but I won't be back to find out.

I felt a bit better when I broke the onsen tamago (an egg slow-poached in its shell). There is absolutely nothing that an onsen tamago can't improve. Still, my usual meal (260 yen for a hot dog and bottomless pop) next door is a far better deal.

And what's next door?

The only reason I come: Costco! I joined when Costco first came to Japan several years ago, but there were no branches close enough to make frequent visits possible so I let my memberships expire. This time it's close enough for me to go weekly if I want (if only I had the fridge space), and the stuff I've bought on my three visits has been so cheap that my 4000 yen membership fee has probably already paid off. Like all Costcos in Japan you can have your stuff shipped home if you came by train or can't fit it all in your car. It's just 600 yen for a huge box to Tokyo, sent chakubarai (COD), and they'll even pack it for you (you'll have to carry your perishables home with you).

One final word about Iruma. Not far away from the outlet is a hip little neighborhood (Japanese link) set in a former American military base. The cafes, shops and restaurants look like they'd be worth a visit, especially Rock 24, a brand-new 24-hour climbing gym owned by my friend Jeff. Unfortunately indoor climbing--or outdoor for that matter--scares my pants off, but for the less wimpy of you, do check it out.

Mitsui Outlet Park, Iruma branch (Japanese link)
04-2935-1616
1-3169 Miyadera Iruma-shi Saitama
Open daily 10 to 10

Costco, Iruma branch
04-2935-2200
3169-2 Miyadera Iruma-shi Saitama
Open daily 10 to 8

Rock 24
1-6-10 Azumacho, Iruma-shi Saitama
Open 24 hours for members, weekends 11 to 7 for non-members

Update

No time for a proper post tonight, so I'll just slap together a point-form update of recent events:

-  I've broken 2 belts in as many months, most recently this evening. Neither incident occurred in the comfort of my own home, which I imagine would be the ideal place for a belt to break.

Having your belt break publicly has its good points and bad points. One of the bad points would be the humiliation. A good point is that there's a chance that someone you're with will be able to lend you a belt. Once the laughter dies down a bit, that is (thanks for the loaners, Brad and Atsuko). This allows you to continue your day without your pants falling down, which would certainly have happened with this particular pair of pants.

I don't care to examine why this is happening. In my defense though, I'm quite new to the world of pants, and therefore not very familiar with belts. I have no idea how to identify a good belt. Is there a trick to it? Something in particular to look for? Any belt-buying tips would be appreciated.

- My passport arrived yesterday. Boy was that fast! Thanks Canada! The picture is even worse than the last one, but I'm happy because now I'm all ready for my visit home.

Oh yeah, except that I'm not. There are still a few obstacles in the way. The first step is to make the trip out to a certain dreary swath of reclaimed land covered with endless dirty factories and warehouses. Why? Because that's where Fort Immigration is, and that's where they sell the re-entry permits (and of course a valid visa is just not enough in this red tape-loving country- we actually need to obtain, and pay for, permission to leave and come back). And then I need to visit City Hall so I can have the passport number on my Alien Registration Card updated. The fun never ends for us expats in Japan!

And the final obstacle? The damn Canadian dollar is at its strongest in 30 years. I have precious little enough yen to convert as it is, and now it's just going to break my heart to see how few dollars I'll get in return. I'm trying to figure out if there's anything I can do to make the Yen-Canadian Dollar exchange less painful. Maybe I should get travelers checks, or use my credit card instead of cash, or-- I have no idea. I'm really hoping my LASIK clinic will consider me an international customer and let me pay the special US dollar international customer rate.

- Did I mention I'm getting LASIK? Assuming that I'm a candidate for the surgery, and that the procedure and healing go well, I'll be returning to Japan free of glasses and contacts! I can't wait (I mean for the no glasses and contacts part, not for the lasers beamed into my eyes part).

- My house is currently an extreme mess, with a sink overflowing with stinking dishes and piles of laundry covering the sofa, kitchen table, and two dressers in the bedroom. The sink situation is not unusual around here and fairly easy to fix, but those laundry piles are becoming a problem. The bedroom piles include wool sweaters and other things things I'm pretty sure were last worn in February. I've gotten so used to the piles I no longer consider them odd. You reach a point where throwing freshly cleaned clothes into a pile and then fishing out what you need every morning becomes easier than folding the clothes and putting them away. The thing is though, the seasons have changed and I haven't put away my winter clothes, so now that spring and summer clothes are slowly being introduced, the piles have grown to unmanageable sizes. Urgent action is needed.

Strange that I've had so little time or inclination for blogging in recent months, but now that there's serious work to do around the house I suddenly get the urge to write a long, pointless post. Procrastination is such a seductive habit...

Getting dressed

After yesterday's matsuri post, I thought I'd share a bit about the process of putting on a yukata. It's not terribly hard to do, especially compared to a regular kimono, but it's complicated enough that many women in Japan cannot do it without help from their mothers or from a professional kimono instructor. I took some lessons a few years ago, and although I've forgotten much of what I learned, it really helped me get used to wearing my yukata.

A yukata is an informal summer kimono, usually made of cotton. There are two types- the thin, very casual kind worn at ryokan (traditional inns) and onsen (hot springs), and the slightly more dressy type worn at matsuri (festivals) and hanabi taikai (fireworks displays). The former type is most often white printed with a simple indigo design, while festival yukata are traditionally indigo blue with a bold white design. In recent years, however, yukata have become much more colourful, with younger women favouring bright colours and pretty floral designs.

Being an old lady at heart, I chose a traditional indigo-dyed yukata. Because I'm big, I had to get it custom made (a too-short yukata is the Japanese equivalent of floods-- not cool). Yukata are made in the same way as kimono- one long roll of fabric is sewn together in panels. The roll is about 30cm in width, but there are minor variations, with some rolls being slightly wider. The tailor searched for the widest roll of fabric she had, to give my yukata a bit of extra room-- and it just happened to be the one I wanted, with a bold dragonfly print.

But a yukata alone is not enough. At the very minimum you'll also need a koshi-himo (waist tie), obi (sash) and geta (wooden thong sandals); and to really do it right you'll want two koshi-himo, hadajuban (a white cotton under-robe), an obi-ita (obi board), a clip or two to keep things in place or out of the way while dressing, and some accessories: kami-kazari (hair accessories), an uchiwa (flat paper fan), and a kinchaku-kago (drawstring wicker handbag). And if you don't have a tubular body, you'll need padding to even out your curves- a small towel around your waist will do fine, or you can buy a proper set like the one shown above (can't recall what it's called). There is apparently even a boob-crushing bra for buxom gals, but that's not something I need to worry about.

Before getting dressed you'll want to do your hair, since once the yukata is on your movement will be slightly restricted. The hairstyle is important-- yukata are worn for special events, so your hair has to be special too. If you have long hair an up-do is mandatory. This is because the collar of a yukata is supposed to be open in the back, which lets air in to cool you down and also exposes the nape of your neck (the back of the neck is traditionally an erogenous zone in Japan). So you want your hair up to show off that sexy nape.

Knowing I'd be spending a long time putting on the yukata, I went for a quick, purposely messy up-do, accented with a beaded few hair accessories I made a few years ago.

Next, your underwear. It can get really hot in a yukata, and you'll likely sweat buckets. And since your yukata should be dry-cleaned rather than washed at home, you really don't want to get it dirty. I wear a hada-juban, but a full slip or an open-necked baby-t or camisole with a half slip would be fine.

If you're going to pad our your curves, now is the time to wrap a towel around your waist or put on your special padding. I consider this purely optional and skipped it this year. I look like an over-stuffed sausage when I'm padded up, and although that's technically correct and makes it easy to fold the yukata at the waist, I just think it looks awful. So against convention my but sticks out farther than the bow in the back, and the waist folds are all wrinkly, but I can deal with that.

And now it's time to put on the yukata. There are a number of online sites that explain all the steps such as this one here. But learning it in person, either from an instructor, a kimono shop salesperson, or an experienced friend, is highly recommended. Failing that, try following a video. I found a really helpful site this year with videos for every step. It's in Japanese but is easy to follow just by watching. Hint- have all your gear up on a table next to you. You won't be able to bend down until you're done.

Briefly, here are the steps: put on the yukata and hold it wide open. Lift it so the hem is at ankle level, and wrap the right side around your body, making sure the hem stays even. Wrap the left side, making sure to keep the right side in place. Tie the koshi-himo tightly around your waist, tucking in the ends. The fold should run just above your hips.

Smooth out any creases in the fold and adjust the collar, then tie the second koshi-himo. This time it goes a few centimetres under your bust. Smooth out any new creases and put on your obi-ita, with the flat board side in front.

So now the easy parts over, and it's time to tie the obi. This is where I always mess up, and it usually takes me several tries to get it right. This year I followed a video from the link above and got it down on my first try, in less than 5 minutes-- record time.

I won't even try to explain how to do it, so instead I'll direct you to the videos (warning, they are long and you'll need a fast connection). The bow shown on the top left of the linked page is the cho-musubi (butterfly bow) and the most common. I usually do that one because it's the one I first learned, but this time I tried out the aoi bow, bottom centre. It is best with a reversible obi, to show off the two colours.

Viola! Thanks to the videos, this time it took me about 20 minutes total, which is the fastest ever. I actually should have slowed down a bit, since the hem is slightly too high and the bow is a bit lopsided. But for a local matsuri I don't think I have to worry too much about getting it perfect- the point of a summer festival is to have fun!

Yukata are widely available in Japan at this time of year, and often sold in sets (with the obi and geta included) for very reasonable prices. I highly recommend buying one, either to wear to festivals here or to bring home as a souvenir of a visit to Japan.

Okinawa Day 2: Tsuboya pottery

After lunch Totetsu took off in his air-conditioned car, leaving Minami and I to fend for ourselves in the heat. We headed for Shuri Ryusen, a studio dedicated to the art of bingata (Okinawa's traditional dying technique). Housed in a handsome 3-story building, Shuri Ryusen displays and sells bingata textiles and crafts, and also has demonstrations and workshops.

We chose a short sangozome (coral dying) workshop, and printed handkerchiefs with stamps made of cut chunks of coral. Very cool concept, and the coral makes a beautiful pattern.

Unfortunately, the price (1000 Yen) only includes three stamps, something I didn't realize until I'd done all three in totally random spots. They were kind enough to let us do five, but I still ended up with an ugly random pattern in drab colours. I'll have try do this again!

I love Minami's handkerchief though. So cute and colourful!

Next we caught a bus to Tsuboya Yachimun Dori, a street lined with studios and shops selling tsuboya-yaki, Okinawan pottery. The area is not the tourist trap I had expected- pottery is actually produced there, and has been district for over 300 years. The street itself is paved in limestone, and the shops lining it are inviting. If it wasn't so hot I would have spent a lot longer browsing and taking pictures.

I like how broken pottery is made into tiles. The above picture is a bit of a fancy example, but there are more utilitarian versions of recycled pottery tiles on paths, walls and fences all over the area.

Reflecting the history of the area, the street features feenukama, and old climbing kiln. It was used solely for firing arayaki (unglazed pottery), mostly in the form of vessels for awamori (Okinawa's alcohol) and other foodstuffs. The kiln is no longer in use, the potters having long ago switched to gas. It just seems to have been left as it is, with crumbling walls and rejected vessels and fragments of pottery strewn about. It's amazing to find such old ruins in downtown Naha, but I find it odd how the kiln has neither been torn down nor properly restored. Maybe the locals can't decide what to do with it?

Some of the pottery shops also sell tea and snacks, so we popped into one to take a break from the heat. I had earlier been curious about zenzai, which I'd seen numerous signs for around town. In the rest of Japan is a hot soup-like concoction of sweet red beans and rice flour dumplings served hot, also known as oshiruko. The shop we picked shop sold zenzai, and although I couldn't imagine eating anything hot, I ordered it out of curiosity.

It turns out that in Okinawa, zenzai is served cold and topped with shaved ice. A perfect treat for such a hot day! It was made the old fashioned way, with a hand-cranked shaver, which was neat to see. It's rare to see these old machines, and even rarer to see them in use.

The machine shaved the ice into amazingly thin, soft flakes, and eating it was like eating a hand full of fluffy, freshly fallen snow. It was so good and refreshing that I wanted to stay there and eat the ice all day.

Underneath the ice lurked the sweet beans and dumplings. Delicious! It was 300 Yen, which is ridiculously cheap, at least by Tokyo standards. Especially since it was served on beautiful tsuboya-yaki and came with cold tea and a couple bowls of kokuto (Okinawan brown sugar) covered peanuts to sample.

After a bit more pottery browsing, we walked to the Daiichi Makishi Public Market. This is a place that reminds me that Okinawa is different from the rest of Japan. Both the food sold and the general atmosphere are different, and it is really feels like an Asian market. Which shouldn't be a surprise, but mainland Japan, despite being in Asia, rarely feels like it. At this time of day virtually all the customers were tourists, so I have no idea how authentic the place was, but I really liked it. It was great to just wander around, taking pictures of the extremely colourful fish, grotesque animal parts, and exotic fruits and vegetables. Another reason to spend time here- they were handing out samples like crazy.

The second floor of the market has some restaurants and food stalls, where I ate the first time I came to Okinawa a few years ago. The restaurants will prepare any food that you buy on the first floor, which seems like a very touristy but cool thing to do.

Yet another reason to come back to Okinawa.

To see more pictures from the day, see my Okinawa album. And Earthtrip, who arranged my tour, posted about it on their regular blog here and their moblog here (you may have to click NEXT a few times to see me).

Keitai

So I finally did it. I've avoided it for years, but after mulling it over for several months I went and bought myself a keitai denwa (cell phone).

It's exactly the one I wanted- the brand new G'z One, the G-shock phone. I bought it on Saturday, the day after it was released- after riding my bike for an hour to get to a shop that sells it cheaper than anywhere else in Japan (according to kakaku.com). 7350 Yen (about $70 CAD), which is not bad at all for a brand-new keitai. Especially since I'd seen it in Shinjuku on Friday for over 20,000 Yen.

I still have no idea how to use most of the features, and writing an email takes me forever. But hopefully this keitai is going to come in very handy. And I've already made a strap for it- keitai straps are de rigeur in Japan, partly as a decoration and partly as something to grab on to when you're pulling it out of your pocket or purse. Kind of like a fancy tampon string.

My strap is made of little skull-shaped bone beads. I'm going to tell people that these beads are made of human bone. Maybe the femurs of African shamans? We'll see. I used to tell people stuff like that when I wore these beads as jewelery, and you'd be amazed at how many people believed me. Do I really come off as creepy enough to wear human bone?

I chose these beads because this keitai doesn't suit the cute, shiny girly-type strap I originally had in mind. This keitai is big and bulky and its colours are black and dark olive green (it was the only one they had left), colours that bring to mind of war and death. Or maybe that's just me.

Keitai blues: Part 2

So as I was saying before, I've finally decided to buy a keitai (cellphone). I've held off for so long, fearing I'd become like all the keitai-addicted zombies I see on the streets- rude, annoying, and totally dependent on a stupid little machine.

But it's hard to avoid the fact that a cellphone would be incredibly convenient. And I'm pretty sure I can resist becoming completely dependent on it. Hell, it'll probably take me years to even figure out how to use the damn thing.

I thought making the decision to buy a keitai was hard enough, but it turns out that buying one, especially for the first time ever, is even harder. First of al you have to choose your phone, from the hundreds on offer from the four big keitai companies: DoCoMo, Au, Tsuka, and Vodaphone. Then you choose your payment plan.

There are so many to choose from, based on how often you make calls, how long the calls last, what time you make them, who you call, email frequency, how much you use the internet, and so on. There are family plans, and calls can be cheaper when you call people who use the same company as you. So I was tempted to go with Docomo because that's what my husband uses, and the people I'd most often call all happen to use Docomo as well.

But ultimately I decided to just buy the phone I liked, without worrying about what other people are using. And the phone I like? G'z One, a durable little Casio number, based on their G-shock line of watches. These phones are shock-proof, water-proof (not just water-resistant) and come with pretty much every feature I want- email, a decent camera, music. It also has a nifty electronic compass and looks pretty cool.

Plus I've used it before- Au sponsored our cross-Japan tour in March and we had free use of 3 of their G'z One phones. Not that I have much to compare them with, but I found them easy to use, and noticed that their reception was way better than everyone's non-Au phones, especially in the countryside.

So I set out last week to buy one, only to discover that they are no longer made. D'oh! I'd already fallen in love with the phone, so this was a huge disappointment. The shop clerk at our local Au shop thought maybe there would be a new version out this summer, but I really wanted to buy a keitai soon, before my trip to Okinawa next month.

So I was thrilled to find out, after a bit of web sleuthing, that the new G'z One comes out June 30th. Just in time! This is it here- I'm not crazy about the new colours, but it still looks pretty cool. And as a huge bonus, it now has an English-Japanese/Japanese-English dictionary, which the old one lacked. It's perfect!

And thanks to Kakaku.com, a site that lists the cheapest places to buy just about anything (in Japanese only, unfortunately) I now know where to buy it. Surprisingly affordable- if I agree to sign a one-year contract. Which means I'm going to have think really hard about which plan to go with...

Keitai blues

I want to buy a keitai (short for keitai denwa, meaning cell phone).

I've resisted for years. At first I just considered them an unnecessary expense. Then little by little my refusal became a protest. A protest against waste. A protest about technology taking over our lives. A protest against bad manners.

Let me explain. Keitais in Japan are wasteful. At any given time there are hundreds of models to choose from, most of them brand-new. Models are constantly updated, often with little more than minor, cosmetic changes. And many people feel compelled to always have the newest models. I have students and friends who have a different keitai every time I see them. And that's just wasteful. It's also a huge waste of money- after years of being forced to overhear other peoples' conversations on their keitais, I know the vast majority of calls are not important. As in, nothing that can't wait until people are at home and able to use their cheaper land lines.

I also think it's a little freaky the way keitais have become such a necessity. Every person I know has one, with the exception of one elderly student. And if asked, virtually all of those people will claim that they can't live without it. Seriously, people react with genuine shock when I tell them I don't have a cellphone. But I remember when I first arrived in this country a decade ago, nobody had one. Pagers were all the rage, but even those weren't universal. Seems to me that people got by just fine without keitais. Why are they suddenly so necessary?

Finally, I really hate the way keitais have changed peoples' manners. I'm not just talking about the idiots who speak loudly on their phones in such places as restaurants and trains. That seems to be less of a problem in Japan than it is back in Canada. No, what I mean is that peoples' manners have actually changed. First thing most people do when they sit down is pull out their keitais and lay them on the table. People do this at work, when meeting friends, at home. My students sometimes do this, as do many friends. To me that says one thing- that I am not interesting or important enough to hold their complete attention. Even worse is when those people feel free to read and send email or answer their phones. But it happens all the time- it has practically become the norm.

People have also become less punctual. Because everyone has a keitai, it's no big deal to be late- you can just call up and arrange an alternate time and place to meet. Extremely convenient- unless, like me, you're one of the rare people without a cellphone. When people fail to show up, I have to look for a pay phone, and thanks to the prevalence of keitais, they are becoming rarer and rarer. More often than not there's no pay hone nearby and I have to choose between waiting for the tardy party to arrive or heading off in search of a phone, in which case I might miss the person I was waiting for.

For a few years now I've noticed that when I make plans with people they act like my lack of a keitai is an inconvenience to them. And this really pisses me off. Am I supposed to buy a cellphone just for the convenience of other people?

Not to mention health. While I don't believe the occasional use of a keitai is going to give me brain cancer, I'm not totally convinced that cellphones (and the many other electronic devices we surround ourselves with) are completely safe.

But the thing is, keitais are convenient. More and more often these days I find myself wishing I had one. I now only have one private student who comes regularly to my house- I have to go out for the rest. And delays inevitably occur. I'm also going out way more this year than in years past, and the more people I meet and the busier I get, the more I need to use a phone. And now that we've moved, I've discovered that our local station doesn't have any payphones. So those mundane but important calls back home to discuss dinner options or ask what needs to be picked up are getting difficult.

Also, it's hard to say I don't like the way keitais have suddenly taken over our lives without sounding like a hypocrite. After all, I'm completely addicted to the internet and could not imagine life without it. Why should keitais be any different?

After all, they certainly are useful. I used to say, years and years ago, that I'd buy a keitai the day they developed one that has an alarm clock and video games and can send email, access the internet, take pictures, and play music through headphones. At the time I kind of meant that to mean I'd never buy a cellphone, since all of those things seemed impossible. Yet that day passed quite a long time ago. Now I've added a few more features to my wishlist: an English-Japanese dictionary, a compass, and a water-proof (not just water-resistant) and shock-proof body.

Whoa. This post is long. For those of you who are still reading: don't you have anything better to do? this post will be continued another day. So stay tuned for the exciting second half of my quest for a keitai.

El Dorado

This is the carousel we rode on at Toshimaen Amusement Park on Sunday. I was hoping to ride a roller coaster or try out the bumper cars but the rain had most of the rides shut down, so we settled for a spin around the merry-go-round. It was decidedly tame and we felt a bit silly as the only grown-ups without kids, but was probably the most beautiful ride I've ever been on.

A little research reveals that this is the El Dorado carousel, built in Germany in 1907 by master carousel maker Hugo Hasse. A few years later it was imported to New York at an astronomical cost and installed at Coney Island in 1910. It was almost destroyed by fire the following year but was restored and installed in Steeplechase Park, where it remained a major attraction until the park closed in 1964. In 1971 the carousel was brought to Japan and installed in Toshimaen right here in suburban Tokyo. It seems strangely at home in the park, where the ample greenery and wide spacing between attractions makes you wonder if you're really in Tokyo.

The carousel is arranged in three tiers. The outermost tier is the slowest and features horses, pigs and elaborate wagons; the middle tier has horses and wagons; and a simple bench encircles the inner tier, the fastest. Everything is carved in elaborate Art Nouveau style and ornate decorations and paintings cover every possible surface. I especially loved the women and cherubs decorating the roof, reminiscent of Alphonse Mucha paintings.

Here are a few pictures I took:

Online shopaholic

I love a good bargain. And the only thing that pleases me more than getting a good deal is finding stuff that fits. Both are rare enough in Japan, and a purchase that combines them can be very hard to find. But thanks to the internet I am able to occasionally satisfy both criteria at once. And I figure that since many of my readers are foreigners living in Japan, it would be nice if I shared my shopping sources.

My on line shop of choice is Nissen. Prices are extremely reasonable, and they have a decent selection of large sizes in women's clothes and shoes. You do get what you pay for, but I've been very pleased with almost everything I've ordered. Plus they have an excellent return policy, and as a frequent shopper I get next day delivery on most items. Extremely convenient, and now over half of my Japan-bought clothes and shoes come from Nissen. I highly recommend them to anyone with gaijin-sized feet and bodies and/or not a lot of yen to go around. They will send you a catalogue for free if you prefer (both the website and catalogue are Japanese only, but the catalogue is far easier to use if you can't read Japanese well).

And last week I discovered an even cheaper shop: Hiraki. They sell shoes for ridiculously cheap prices, many of them in larger sizes (up to 26.5cm). Mostly women's shoes, but also kid's and men's, along with clothing, bags and housewares. But the shoes are definitely the main draw. I love that they show each shoe from all angles, which is something even expensive on line shops and catalogues don't do.

This is my first order from them:

Two pairs of sandals, three pairs of undies and a crochet hat, all for 4000 Yen That's crazy cheap for Japan. I especially love the sandals on the left- check them out here (I'm probably going to order the purple ones too). They are surprisingly comfy- I wore them for the 50 minute walk to the station, which is normally a very foolish thing to do with new shoes, but these were fine. My feet seem to like them.

Since I am satisfied with my order, I can't test their return policy. But it seems to be similar to Nissen's.

Next purchase: protective gear for my inline skates. I bought these skates way back in January, but haven't been able to try them until now. The reason? The shop I bought them at didn't sell any protectors. Why on earth a shop would sell inline skates without the protection? And all the sports shops I've checked since then don't sell them either (inline skating is not very popular in Japan). I managed to find some on line shops that sold them, but they were all expensive. Until last week, when I found a set (knee, elbow and wrist guards) for 3000 Yen. And now 4 months after I bought my skates I can finally use them. Yay!

The shop I got them from is called Websports, and has good prices and an impressive (to me, at least) selection of sporting goods.

All three on line shops have reasonable shipping charges and offer a range of payment options, including COD, credit card and bank transfer. And although the sites are it Japanese only, I heartily recommend them- if you can't read Japanese get someone to help you. It'll be worth the trouble!

Packages aplenty

The past month we've been getting a lot of fun packages. First came a box of apples from Nagano, sent by a kind Freecycle Japan named Myra in return for some things I had given away when I moved last year. Then a package from Tokyoastrogirl in LA, who kindly sent me some stuff I miss from back home. The chocolate-coveres sunflower seeds are long gone, but I can't wait to use the bulgar and other good stuff.

The first two packages arrived while I was away on my trip, and the next one came just after I returned- 2 lovely "snack pineapples" from Okinawa. These were sent by my sister-in-law, who must be psychic- I had just been in Okinawa a few days before, and much to my disappointment hadn't been able to eat any pineapple.

These brought back memories- I had been to Okinawa with her and her husband a few years ago, and then just last year she had introduced us to snack pineapples. This is a new kind of pineapple that can be pulled apart in sections and eaten without cutting, and is very very sweet.

It's such a cool fruit and I really wanted to take pictures, but having forgetten my camera's battery recharger in Okinawa I was unable to take any photos. We did have lots of fun eating them though, which is the most important thing.

The latest package arrived this morning- a box of frozen deer meat! My husband's boss has a hunter friend who just bagged a deer and has more meat than he can use, and some of it somehow got passed on to us. I like venison but have never cooked it before, so I have no idea what I'm going to do with it. I'm thinking stew maybe- anyone have any good recipes?

A big thanks to Myra, Tokyoastrogirl, sister-in-law, and Hideaki's boss!

腹巻

Since coming to Japan I have found something that I can't live without- haramaki. You may be able to deduce the word's meaning if you recall a few of the Japanese words known to us English speakers, namely: harakiri and makizushi. Think carefully now- if harakiri means stomach-cutting and makizushi is a sushi roll wrapped with seaweed, what do you get? That's right- nude sushi!

No, no, I jest. Haramaki translates as "stomach roll" or "stomach wrap", and although it may seem to mean "love handles", it doesn't (but that would be a good guess, as I've certainly acquired a pair since coming to Japan). No, haramaki is a tummy warmer. This is one of mine:

It looks a bit like a girdle but it's not meant to be as tight as one- it's soft and comfy and oh-so-warm. It sits right on the stomach, and depending on the type it may extend all the way from under the bust to the butt crease. Old fashioned ones look like giant tensor bandages but new ones come in all kinds of fabrics and colours- many with a little pocket at the belly* like the one above. The haramaki was apparently once worn by everyone, but is now mostly worn by old folks, especially older men, as well as pregnant women.

I had never really suffered from a cold stomach before, but after years of living in Japan I had outworn my Canadian clothes and started buying clothes here- clothes that were designed for people much smaller than myself. Tops were too short and skirts (forget finding pants here) made for tubular bodies tended to sit low on my waist. So sitting between these ill-fitting clothes, my belly got plenty of exposure.

Not that a chilled tummy really worried me at first. I was raised to believe that most heat escapes from your head and your feet- keep those covered up and you'll stay warm. But people think differently here. At first I was surprised to see babies in Japan with bare feet in all seasons-- I thought those babies must be terribly cold. But those same babies always have their tummies well-covered, even in the summer. It was also quite a shock to see Japanese schoolchildren walking to school in shorts and t-shirts, in the winter- their limbs fully exposed but their tops always neatly tucked in. I thought it was silly that old men wore tummy-warmers year-round-- even on the hottest summer day they didn't want to leave their bellies vulnerable to any possible draughts. And I'd laugh every night when my husband come to bed in pajamas- with the top tucked into the bottoms and the waistband up near his armpits. He wasn't going to wear something as old and dasai as haramaki, but he'd be damned if he'd let his stomach get cold. So keeping the stomach covered is as ingrained here as covering our feet and heads is back home.

I've always suffered from the cold in winter-- my Mom used to say my blood was too thin. Mostly my hands and feet got cold but now in Japan, with its uninsulated and poorly-heated homes, my whole body felt chilly- including my poor exposed stomach. Still, I resisted wearing haramaki until I saw a special on TV about how to keep your feet warm at night. They did a little experiment in which three women, using three different techniques, went to sleep while being filmed with an infrared camera to measure their body temperatures. One soaked her feet in a hot foot bath before bed, another layered on thick socks, and the other did nothing special to her feet but wore a great big pair of underwear. Huge thick wooly ones that went from her hips to above her belly button. And guess whose feet stayed the warmest? Miss Big Undies.

Not a very scientific experiment, but when they had a doctor explain it it made sense- your body's circulation system works hard to keep its internal organs warm. When your body is having trouble staying warm it will direct all its heat to the internal organs at the expense of the extremities. This is especially so for women, what with all of our extra lady parts, which explains why more women than men suffer from cold hands and feet. So the idea is that if you keep your uterus warm from the outside, you'll be helping your entire body to distribute its heat more evenly.

So I bought a giant pair of thick grandma undies and gave it a try, and lo and behold it kept me warm-- right down to my toes. Not just at night but all day too. And it made me think that maybe the haramaki worked on the same principle, so I bought one and tried it. I was hooked after the first day. It solved the problem of my cold exposed belly, it kept my feet and hands warm, and it freed me from big ugly grandma underwear. Not that a haramaki is exactly sexy, but it's slightly less unsexy than grandma undies, and maybe even a little bit cute.

So now I rely on haramaki to keep me warm, and I couldn't imagine living without them. Of course what I'd really like is a properly heated apartment, which would render haramaki, big undies, and up-to-the-armpits pajama bottoms unnecessary. But until the Japanese figure out certain advanced technological wonders like insulation, double-paned glass and central heating, I'm happy to make do with my tummy warmer.

* Presumably the pocket is there to hold kairo (those miraculous little heating pads-- what are they called, hot pockets?), but it is also handy as a place to keep a little pack of tissues during cold season. I also like to imagine old ladies keeping a pack of cigarettes or a tin of snuff in there...

Technorati tags: underwear japan stomach

Flaty

Being a big gal in Japan, I have quite a bit of difficulty finding things that fit. Knee-length skirts become mini skirts on me. T-shirts aren't such a problem, as long as I don't mind a cold stomach (in fact, I was showing my belly for years before midriff-baring tops became fashionable). Pants are impossible for any number of reasons, the biggest one being my butt. Shoes? Forget about it.

But there's one part of me for which I've always been able to find the right size. Um, make that two parts.

Yup, you know what I'm talking about. This is a country of baby bosoms. Mini mammaries, if you will. Itty bitty boobies. Undersized udders. Petit protuberances. Little lactators. Tiny titties. Nano knockers. OK, I'll stop, I think you get the idea (and I can't find my thesaurus). The point is, I don't have much of a problem finding a bra that fits.

Finding a bra that doesn't make me look like I have two little torpedoes ready blast off from my chest, however, is a different story. You see, women here seem to think being under-endowed is shameful. Shameful enough to hide under layers of stiff lace and foam padding and puffy almond-shaped removable inserts called, lord knows why, "cookies". And I'm not talking about a little bit of subtle enhancement, like maybe making a set of double A's look like full-blown A's. Nope, I'm talking about jumping several letters up the alphabet. I'm talking about serious gravity-defying deception with little resemblance to actual human breasts. Bras so perky they point up. Bras that could even give Barbie a lift.

But after a trip to the lingerie shop to buy a new camisole, I've realized that the deception is finally coming to an end. Because there is now a brand that celebrates our lack of curves. A brand that will make us love our little booblets. A brand that lets us stand up straight (very straight) and be proud:

Flatties of Japan, your time has come.

Technorati tags: bras underwear japan engrish

Frugal project #1: Pants hanger

Spent a few minutes today making pants hangers from our huge collection of old wire dry cleaner's hangers and plastic clothes pins.

I love re-using and recycling stuff as much as I hate throwing stuff out. So little projects like this bring me immense satisfaction. I made a little album with pictures and instructions, so if you have a closetfull of empty wire hangers do have a look and give it a try.

Frugal pants hanger instructions

Day 26: New car

Before Julie and the kids went home, my Dad zipped off to trade in his old car for this:

A black Honda Accord. His old car was a dark green Civic, which went well with my brother's blue Civic. Add to that my Mom's Odyssey, and what do you have? A Honda family. Cool.

578 Yen

Bargain of the week: a tub of blueberries for 200 yen, and San Marzano tomaotes for 189 yen per tin.

To those who have never bought fruit in Japan, 200 yen may not seem all that  cheap for a tiny cup of blueberries. But trust me, it's cheap. The regular price is almost double that, and that's for week-old berries imported from Oregon or someplace. These little blue lovelies came from a local farmer's roadside veggie stand, so they were probably picked just hours ago.

The tomatoes are from the discount import shop Kaldi. I'm so lucky to have this store nearby! Don't think I could have survived in Japan so long if I didn't have my cheap imports.

So what am I going to make with these bargain tomatoes? Well, I had to go to three different stores to find some Vodka. That's right, three stores. I already know the non-Japanese spirits section in most supermarkets/liquor shops here is tiny. But I was a bit surprised at the first place to see 3 kinds of gin, 5 kinds of whiskey (all crappy), 2 kinds of lychee liqueur, and no kinds of vodka. Who the hell needs two kinds of lychee liqueur*?

So anyway, I bought vodka. Guess what I'm making for dinner?

* Oh yeah, we do. We did a taste test between Paraiso and Dita earlier this year. (Paraiso kicked ass.)

Umbrella

For the first time ever I've bought an umbrella because I liked it (as opposed to the many many umbrellas I've bought because I was out in the rain and had to). This is it, drying out on my fence after its maiden voyage.

I bought it online and was a bit surprised when it arrived- it is actually meant to be a parasol (those are big here) and is tiny. Luckily it also works for rain, and the small size actually turns out to be a good thing. Unlike in Toronto, when it rains in Japan everybody uses an umbrella, so maneuvering through crowds can be quite a challenge. Having a petite umbrella allows me to whiz through the crowds of people burdened with full-sized umbrellas. (On the other hand, it doesn't create the buffer zone that a large umbrella does- such a buffer zone is important for tall people like me who want to avoid being poked in the eye by a careless little Japanese lady's umbrella spokes...)

298 Yen

Two packs of maitake mushrooms. 10 bunches of shiso (that's 100 leaves). 298 yen.

Does life get any better than this?

Magic Bullet

Tried out the Magic Bullet mixer that my Mom got us for Christmas. It came with a million attachments which scared me a bit at first it but turned out to be much easier to use than I thought it would be.

Made two strawberry banana smoothies, one with yogurt and milk and the other with orange juice. Yummy and much quicker and less messy than with my hand blender.

Seems that this mixer can be used for much more than just smoothies, but we only have a few meals left before we head to Osaka so I won't be able to make full use of it until next year. But I did go out and stock up on bananas and strawberries. There's always time for smoothies.

Lap pillow

Remember the "Arm pillow", released a few months back? As the name suggests, it a pillow shaped like the arm and half torso of a man, marketed to women who want all the comfort of a boyfriend with none of the hassle.

Well, an enterprising Japanese company has developed a similarly comforting pillow for men: the Lap Pillow.

This picture has been forwarded from inbox to inbox, and featured on all the "weird and wacky news" type sites. The accompanying explanations are misleading, and as ridiculous a product as it is, I have to object to how it has been misinterpreted.

Granted, the fact that the makers chose to clad this lap in a skin-tight mini-skirt does make it easy for non-Japanese to come to the conclusion that it is a naughty product. Without knowing that for many a Japanese man, lying down with his head in a woman's lap is one of the most comforting things in the world, it's natural to assume that this some kind of odd sex toy or at least a very risque novelty item. But it isn't, really.

For an adult man, having his head cradled in a woman's lap brings him back to his childhood, when he felt comforted and protected and loved as he curled up beside his mother and rested his head on the pillow provided by her kneeling legs. She would lovingly clean his ears, or caress his cheek while he napped, or do whatever it is mothers do to make their children feel loved. As an adult, he can no longer expect his mother to do this, but a good wife is supposed to indulge her husband by offering her lap once in a while. Nothing naughty about it, and this pillow is obviously meant to help single men recapture that soothing feeling he felt as a child.

Still, although it's not naughty in the way the foreign press makes it out to be, it does showcase a few slightly disturbing aspects of Japanese culture. Like how in many marriages, a wife is expected to be more of a mother than a lover. Or how some mothers shower their sons with unhealthy amounts of affection, causing them to develop a maza-con (mother complex, a kind of mama's boyism verging on oedipal complex).

But that's a story for another day, and this pillow is nothing more than a harmless novelty. Makes for an amusing short news item but I doubt I'll be seeing it in stores any time soon (I certainly haven't seen the arm pillow for sale anywhere, contrary to English-language news reports that suggested it was a hot seller).

Tags: japan lap pillow pillow

Snowflake

MIJ (Married In Japan, an online group I belong to) is doing a Christmas ornament exchange this year and now that I have a tree I thought I'd join in. I made this snowflake today and sent it off to my designated ornament partner. Hope she likes it!

Christmas Tree

Here's the tree, all decorated. Not the best job ever, but hey- it's the first tree I've ever decorated all by myself, unsupervised. If the Christmas Nazi - sorry, I mean my Mom- was here to help, it would be much better, but I'm satisfied. And it does still needs something on top, but I'm sure I'll be able to find something.

I actually managed to make space near the entrance. Easier said than done- I moved the tansu (Japanese chest) and saw that the wall behind it was covered in mold. Eew. So I took a break from decorating and cleaned up the wall, which was the official start to this year's O-souji. O-souji is a big new years cleaning that is traditionally undertaken to purify one's home. More on that another day.

Most of the decorations are new, bought in Asakusa-bashi after the award ceremony on Saturday. This is the wholesale district that sells, among other things, seasonal decorations, so there are dozens of stores selling Christmas decorations. Most welcome retail buyers, and will bargain a little. Which is good- although the stuff is cheaper than department stores, it's much more expensive than it would be in Canada. I checked out every single store before finding what I thought was the cheapest. Turns out the place I picked doesn't bargain at all, but after spending almost an hour picking out what I wanted I was too tired to put it all back and went ahead and paid. I'm such a sucker.

So what with decorating the tree, starting the New Years cleaning, and participating in some traditional holiday overspending, I'm feeling very festive.

New Tree

This is the tree I bought on sale last week. My first fake tree ever. It came in that skinny box shown in the background, took me about thirty minutes to assemble. I thought I did a pretty good job. The way the branches are all wild and random on the bottom, while straight and orderly on the top? Not my fault. The tree came in two distinct parts. I'm hoping once the thing's decorated it won't be so noticeable.

Now, where the hell am I going to put it?

Tissues

This is a package of tissues bought at the local supermarket. Hideaki bought them- that's his job. I do most of the regular shopping, but he gets the dangerous and manly job of buying toilet paper and tissues. This is because they come in big bulky packages that don't fit in my bicycle basket, and I'm really bad at balancing them off the handles. Almost had a few accidents. So clearly this is a job for a man.

He even unpacks them and puts them on the shelf. And he's learned to arrange the toilet paper in a pyramid, just the way I like it (I'm kind of be semi-obsessive-compulsive about this). That alone is enough to make him a keeper, but there's more: he has somehow figured out how to change a roll of toilet paper. And he does it every time. He may be the only guy in the world capable of this.

Funny, tissues are one of the only things that are sold in big bulk packages in Japan (rice is the only other thing I can think of). Here, almost everything is sold in tiny amounts- a pack of ground meat containing 150 grams, tiny tups of yogurt, wee jars of two weeks' worth of vitamnins. But tissues only come in packs of five boxes. Very convenient (unless you shop by bike)- why aren't they sold that way in Canada? As I remember, tissues are only sold by the box. Doesn't make sense. Someone should look into this...

New Coffee Mill

I used to grind my coffee with a regular Braun grinder, but I was never happy with it- there was always a nasty sludge made from over-ground coffee at the bottom of my mug. Turns out there are two types of coffee grinders- those that use a blade, and those that use a burr grinder. Blade grinders are cheaper but grind unevenly, producing a mix of large grounds and a finely ground powder; burrs grind evenly and are used by the pros. Unfortunately electric burr grinders are pricey, so I bought a manual grinder. Cute idea, but not very practical. It's been sitting unused on a shelf for a few months.

But I finally found an affordable electric burr grinder. Arrived a few days ago. I have high hopes for this one, and can't wait to use it.

Nice timing though. I'm battling a cold, and don't like to drink a lot of coffee when I'm sick. Hopefully I'll be back to my healthy, coffee-guzzling self soon.