A Fish Out of Water

Hoikuen

Look, look! This is Shuma's bento (lunch box) containing my very first attempt at hosomaki (thin sushi rolls). I've never felt the need to make sushi before, because living in Japan there is decent sushi everywhere (duh). But in July Shuma started going to hoikuen (daycare) and I had to make a bento for him, and he lost his appetite during the adjustment period and wouldn't eat his lunch. Didn't matter what I put in it, he wouldn't eat it.

He's a bit picky- he doesn't have any foods that he absolutely never ever will eat, but his tastes change frequently and he'll suddenly stop eating something he loved until yesterday. There are only two foods he will always always eat: kappamaki (cucumber sushi roll) and edamame (green soybeans). So I started including edamame in his bento, and lo and behold, he ate it. And since there are no take-out sushi shops that are open at 8:50am in my neighborhood, I had to learn to make kappamaki myself. And I did, and he ate it, and even now that he's used to hoikuen and eats pretty much whatever is in his bento, I still make it. Sadly my skill haven't improved- the rolls are still messy and uneven and prone to falling apart. I think I need to take a class or something.

So anyway, Shuma is in daycare. He goes to hoiku mama (home-based daycare) which is relatively rare in Japan and a bit different from Canada- only three kids per home are allowed, and only until age three (or more correctly, until the school year that they turn three). Hoiku mama is much easier to get into than regular public daycare, but is partially subsidized so is cheaper than private daycare. I was able to get in even though I didn't yet have a job, with the understanding that I'd find work within three months. I was able to pick up enough private English lessons to qualify in time, but I'm still only working part time and never would have qualified for regular hoikuen so I consider myself very lucky.

His caregiver (mama?) is great and although he had a few weeks of crying every morning at drop-off he loves her, and has made friends with the other two kids there (a one-year-old girl and a girl his age). His Japanese has improved immensely and he talks way more now, even in English. He takes a nap every day, which he has never done with me. He gets lots of activities and time at the park that he probably wouldn't get with me, and when I pick him up he is happy to see me and always in a good mood. It's so different than before he started, when we were both often grumpy much of the time.

I am not a supermom, and even with no job, just one child, and a low-maintenance husband I was having a hard time keeping things together. The house was always a mess, providing three meals a day was a challenge, and I was completely unable to keep Shuma busy and happy without losing my temper several times a day. Being together all day, every day was really taking a toll. I don't think it's natural for a child to spend every single moment of its life with its mother, especially after infancy, and I never wanted it to turn out that way- I always assumed I'd be working at least part time, and that Hideaki would be home more, that we'd use babysitters, that I'd be able to share babysitting with friends and in-laws. But no, instead my son and I were alone together all the time and driving each other crazy. He started hoikuen just in time.

It's been a bit of a learning curve for me, and not just the bentos. Hideaki did all the paperwork stuff when applying but once Shuma was in all the communication is up to me. Thankfully most of it is by text (I hate the phone to begin with, but phone calls in Japanese are pretty much the most stressful thing in the world for me), and somehow she seems to understand my awful Japanese. He needs to keep at least three changes of clothes there (she will change him the instant he sheds a drop of sweat or gets a molecule of dirt on his clothes) so I need to be doing laundry all the time to keep up. And then there's the renrakuchou (parent-teacher notebook?).

I thought the renrakuchou was the silliest thing when I first heard of it. I have to write down what he does at home (what time he sleeps, eats etc) and she does the same thing (what activities they do, what time he naps, when he has a snack, that sort of thing). I have to write down his temperature in the morning and she takes his temperature during the day (I'm sure I've mentioned before that the Japanse are obsessed with body temperature). There is a space for me to write anything of note (usually I leave it blank), and in her space she writes in detail about what he did. She usually shares little stories and sometimes includes pictures, like above. And there is a section on food, where she'll let me know if he ate his bento (including specifically what he did and didn't like) and what he had for snacks. Now that I'm used to it it's really helpful, and fun to know what he's up to. It's not much work to fill out, and mine is pretty basic (apparently some places have you fill out the weather, what mood your child is in, even if and when they poop).

It's kind of embarrassing to share this, as my handwriting is awful and I am using the wrong terms (since she understands my broken Japanese I've never bothered finding out the real words). And that he has such a late bedtime (we try for 8 but it often ends up being late like this night was). On this day he only ate one out of two onigiri (rice balls) and part of his side dishes (probably cheese, carrot sticks and edamame- I'm guessing he ate the edamame and left the rest). His temperature was a bit high, and she mentioned it to me at pick-up but we agreed since he was otherwise fine it wasn't anything to worry about (thankfully she is relaxed, I know some parents and teachers who would be worried about a 37C temp). Oh, and I put a bar over the eyes of the girl in the pic, it's not like that in the book. You can never be too careful with (other peoples') kids on the internet, and the Japanese especially are very sensitive about privacy.

Anyway, I am sure this is going to become a keepsake. Even now I love reading it, I especially like hearing the little stories. It's so cool to see him growing up into his own person, totally separate from me. I see things that I like to think he gets from me (his love of nature, recorded in the book as his excitement at seeing an especially large leaf or his glee at collecting acorns), I see things that are totally not from me (how he'll spend an entire hour at the park just running), and then I see milestones and regular growing-up kind of stuff (like when he gently holds his crying playmate's hand and says "let's play!"). I love it.

He is three now and the school year ends in March, so he only has five months left. From April he will either have to start regular hoikuen or youchien (kindergarten). I'm in the process right now of deciding (and it's a big decision, as it will be for the next three years). And while I'm sure we'll both get used to whichever place we choose, I wish he could stay with his hoiku mama.

780 Yen

This is what 780 yen worth of grapes looks like in Japan. That's not particularly expensive for good domestic "Muscat of Alexandria" grapes, the most popular green variety here, and you could spend about several times that for the same size bunch if you wanted to.

So why did I spend 8 dollars on a small bunch of grapes? Shuma. The other day he was being pretty good while we were shopping for once, not grabbing random items and throwing them in my cart or running away and hiding like he usually does, when suddenly he goes up to these grapes, sinks his teeth into one, and runs away. He doesn't even eat it, just leaves it there with his tooth marks in it. You can see the bitten grape in question at bottom centre, just under the label- it's plumped up a bit since then so it's kind of hard to tell, but it was quite obvious at the time. So I was forced to buy them.

When I caught up to him he was following an older lady carrying a little kiddie basket (that the supermarket supplies so kids can play shopping along with their mom or dad). And before I could reach him he grabbed onto the basket and started pulling. I was apologizing and trying to wrench the basket from his iron grip when the lady said "You want it? Here" and walked off with a scowl. So Shuma managed to mess with the one old lady in the store who didn't love little kids (a typical Japanese granny would probably have laughed, given him the basket, and then given him some candy- all Japanese grannies carry candy you know).

I really should restrain him, and I would for sure in Canada where people are much less tolerant of annoying kids. But Japanese shopping carts are awful to begin with, and Japanese shopping carts with child seats have to be one of the poorest designed items in the world. Here is a picture of one, kind of hard to tell but the seat is very low so you end up kicking your kid's feet with each step, or their feet drag on the ground. It also puts them at a perfect level to grab stuff off of table displays or shelves, compared to a shopping cart back home where the seat is higher and protected on each side by the width of the cart. And a typical Japanese mom would be OK but for me the handles are way too low and widely spaced so I have to stoop down to reach them. And they're really hard to steer. I hate them.

Over a year ago I bumped into a Japanese mom I know with a boy the same age as Shuma and I complemented her on the excellent behavior of her son, who stood quietly by her side holding her hand and not touching anything, and said I never let my son walk free in the supermarket. She looked at Shuma, safely subdued in a shopping cart while demanding to be held and grabbing anything he could reach, and said smugly "Well if I keep him in the cart he will never learn to behave properly while shopping." OK, the smugness is 100% in my imagination, but it did strike me as a slightly naive and insensitive thing to say. I'm sure she is doing a great job raising her child but he seems to be one of those naturally quiet and obedient children, and she doesn't realize that terrors like my son are born that way, not made.

Anyway, the grapes were pretty good. Very sweet and juicy, no seeds, edible peel (many varieties of Japanese grapes have thick bitter peels that need to be removed, way too much work if you ask me). I actually prefer the cheap imports though, I like a little tartness and crunch. Shuma loved them, I hope this doesn't give him any ideas or he's going to start biting everything he wants.

Cherry blossoms

I couldn't let spring arrive without a few cherry blossom pictures, and here they are. Really just a few this year, at least of the flowers still on the trees.

Thanks to plenty of wind and rain, and a great big storm, the blossoms didn't spend much time on the trees, and now wherever you go you get to walk on carpets of pale pink petals.

The sight of the petals falling to the ground, like a gentle snowfall, is one of the most beautiful things in the world. Shuma thinks so too, and when he sees a petal falling he points to it and says "bubble". Close enough.

Another sight, less well-celebrated than falling petals, can only be seen when riding the bus during a rainfall at the end of the cherry blossom season. The rain knocks the petals from the trees and then sticks them to the windows of the bus, treating passengers to a close-up botany lesson. Or at least giving them something to look at other than adds for local dentists and pachinko parlours.

Gaijin

I thought I had more time to figure this all out. My son is barely one year and five months old, and at this age he and his peers are a long way from noticing that some people look different. Surely I have a year or two to decide what labels I'll use, and allow others to use, and how to react when people use the wrong ones.

It's not that I haven't given it any thought- I've given it plenty. But I hadn't really come to a conclusion yet, and it turns out that I've been focusing on the wrong problem: whether or not to use the term "hafu". It is a troublesome term, no doubt, but it's not the term that ignorant Japanese people use when they find the need to point at my child and call him names. Shuma, with his dirty blond hair, pale skin and caucasian features, doesn't really look like a "hafu", so he gets called "gaijin".

Friday wasn't the first time, but the other times involved adults who didn't really mean it in a bad way. They were calling to their wife to come look at the cute foreign kid, or explaining to their child that Shuma didn't answer them because foreigners can't speak Japanese. Um, no- he didn't answer because he was a BABY, moron mom, and babies can't talk, but never mind, and never mind that my son is not an exhibit in a zoo to be gawked at, moron husband. And neither of you need to mind that Shuma is not in fact a foreigner, because I don't have time to waste on idiots like you. You're all grown up and a lecture from me won't change the fact that you're a twat.

But when another kid calls my son "gaijin" it's another story, a story that ended with me in tears. I probably need to develop a thinner skin (how is it that I get more sensitive the longer I live in Japan? And isn't motherhood supposed to make me stronger?), but in the meantime I have some thinking to do. Here is what happened, if you have a few moments please read on and let me know what you think.

Friday was our first time out of the house since Monday (I had the flu), and as luck would have it the weather was gorgeous: warm, sunny, and full of the promise of spring. A perfect day to play at the park, and this was actually our second attempt, as earlier in the day he'd fallen asleep on the way. So by the time we finally got to the playground it was late afternoon and the usual parents and toddlers weren't there. Instead there was a group I'd never seen before: about a dozen kids, mostly elementary school age, and seven or eight moms, who were apparently all together. A group of the kids was sitting on and around the slide while two moms watched, which instantly pissed me off because the slide is Shuma's favourite piece of equipment and they were hogging it without even using it. I hate playground equipment hoggers!

The moms also failed to greet me, which would have been easily rectified with a cheerful "Konnichiwa!" from me, but seeing as they were slide hoggers I didn't bother. A mistake. The pre-emptive greeting is a powerful thing in Japan, and might have helped later on. Anyway, Shuma and I kicked a ball around for a while, but he really liked watching the other kids (like a lot of toddlers he is fascinated by older children) and eventually he lost interest in the ball and walked over to the slide to gawk at them.

That's when one of the boys, maybe seven years old, pointed at us and said "Gaijin da!" (A foreigner!) and when the other kids failed to show interest (credit to them) he tapped his buddy and repeated "Ne ne, gaijin iru yo!" (Hey, there's a foreigner!). I didn't react right away because I was kind of trying to figure out if he meant me or Shuma, or how he meant it. Because you know how sometimes kids just point out mundane stuff without meaning anything, like they'll see a dog and go "look, it's a dog!", then point to the sky and say "look, an airplane!"? I've been called "gaijin" by kids that way plenty of times, and it's not a big deal. That's just how kids are. But the way he said it, and the look on his face, made it obvious he wasn't just pointing out a curiosity. He meant it in a bad way.

I also hesitated because I was waiting to see what the moms nearby would do. I wasn't sure if either of them was his mom, but I still kind of expected them to say something. But no, nothing, so after the second comment I picked up Shuma, walked over to the slide with a big friendly smile and started to say "This boy's not a foreigner, he's Japanese!". Which is a woefully inadequate response because it fails to do deal with a few important things, but with my limited Japanese I figured was the best I could do. I hoped it would at least get him talking to us and maybe he'd say "But he looks like a gaijin" and I could tell the kid that Shuma was born in Japan, lives in Japan, has a Japanese Dad, a Japanese name, speaks Japanese (well, one word), and therefore he's Japanese. And maybe the kid would say, "Huh, I guess he IS Japanese" and accept it in the way that kids are able to quickly process mind-blowing new information. Or maybe he wouldn't get it at all, but at least he would have seen that we are human beings with real feelings and stuff, and the other kids would see how nice we are and what an asshole the other kid is, and the moms would feel guilty for not saying anything and also be impressed with my quiet dignity and stellar Japanese skills and next time I saw them at the park they'd greet me and make their kids get off the slide and play with Shuma.

But that's not what happened, because as soon as I opened my mouth one of the other kids poured a bucket of water down the slide, soaking the kids in its path and making a big mess, and they all started laughing and shouting and the moms started scolding and nobody heard me. The moms' scolding technique was the typical useless Japanese way that involves gently saying "Dame" (No) and "Yamete" (Stop it) a lot, so of course all of the kids ignored them, which made them fuss more, which made one of the boys yell "Baka!" (literally "idiot" but kind of an all-purpose slur that children definitely shouldn't yell at adults) back at the moms. What a kerfuffle.

So Shuma and I went off to play in the sandpit, as I'd missed the chance to say something and the slide was now completely unusable. I did notice the remaining moms going over to the slide to respond to the commotion, and got to see that the boy who'd called us "gaijin" had a vile woman for a mother, which somehow didn't console me. He also called her "baka" and told her to shut up when she yelled at him (no ineffective Japanese style fussing for her), so she dragged him off the slide and slapped his head several times while continuing the yelling. It's not actually all that rare to see parents hit their kids like that here, but it's certainly not the norm and I couldn't help thinking that if they were perfectly comfortable going through this routine in public, it must be at least as bad inside their home.

So the commotion calmed down and Shuma and continued playing, until out of nowhere we heard "gaijin" shouted again. I hadn't been paying attention so missed the context, but there the boy was pointing at us again. Again the adults ignored him, including his mother who was nearby this time. And that did it. Not believing that my son and I couldn't be left in peace in our park, and frustrated that I didn't have the language skills or opportunity to say anything, I wiped away the tears that were starting and carried Shuma to his tricycle. Which unfortunately was parked in such a way that I had to pass the group of awful moms and kids. The little brat was still staring at us so I said "Mou, 'gaijin da' wo yamete yo!" (Stop calling us 'gaijin'!), which is probably completely incorrect (both in grammar and politeness level) but I just had to say something. So of course all of the moms turn around and stare, and now I'm the crazy gaijin who runs around crying and yelling at kids.

So that's what happened. It's not so awful in retrospect, and I know there are kids and their parents who have experienced much, much worse. But I do think that my son has the right to play at our local park without being harassed, and am utterly frustrated by the fact that I am unable to defend him. So all I can do is raise him right, and one day he will proud of who he is and able to deal with mean people all by himself.

Now, what do I find so objectionable about the word "gaijin"? Well, the word itself doesn't bother me terribly, especially when directed at me. I don't like it much and would prefer to be called the proper "gaikokujin", or better yet, to not be singled out for my foreignness at all, but I've never really gotten worked up about it. It's nothing compared to the racial slurs that are heard in my country, and usually doesn't have any malice behind it (in my decade and a half in Japan I've only once been called gaijin- to my face, anyway- in a bad way). Actually many Japanese people don't really understand the difference between "gaijin" and "gaikokujin", and the subject deserves a post of its own. I don't have the time and space to discuss it, but Wikipedia has a basic explanation if you're curious.

But beyond the meaning of the word itself, my main objections are that it is simply an inaccurate description of my son, and it's just mean to taunt people who are different. Shuma is Japanese, and just because he has one non-Japanese parent doesn't make him a gaijin. And yes, he does look different, but it's not nice to point it out. How would the boy feel if I pointed at him and said "Look, an ugly boy!". Or called his mom a bitch or laughed at his dad for being bald? Not very nice, but kids don't know that unless they've been taught. Empathy and manners don't come naturally, and while I don't expect children to know why "gaijin" is a bad word, I do expect parents to teach them why it's not nice to call names.

New Year round up

Yes, it's the middle of February, so it seems a little late to be blogging about our new year's holidays, but they tend to drag it out here (that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it). So I already shared our nengajo (new year postcard) but I thought I'd show a few of the outtakes. He's holding the ball in some pictures partly as a distraction and partly to represent that flaming ball or pearl that Chinese and Japanese dragons are often depicted holding (don't ask me what it actually means).

This year we were only in Osaka for a few days and we stayed at a hotel. My mother-in-law broke her wrist in December and was unable to cook, clean or drive so we just visited during the day and helped out in the kitchen as well as we could. My sister-in-law took charge and did most of the work, but I was able to learn how to cook some of the osechi ryouri (the traditional new year's dishes) that my mother-in-law usually makes. No pictures as we were rather busy, but there are years of osechi pics in the archives (here is last year, for example). Here is a picture of the whole family taken at our hotel after a dinner out.

We had lunch at Haneda airport on our way back, at one of the small restaurants in Terminal 2's 3rd floor that share common seating overlooking the departures lobby. We've always avoided this little alley despite some interesting looking restaurants because it's kind of like a food court and the seating looks crowded and uncomfortable, but we noticed some nice big chairs in front of a Sri Lankan place called Court Lounge. The food was good and not outrageously overpriced, and upon sitting down we noticed that every chair is different and we'd definitely snagged the best ones- Shuma loved swiveling around his his big armchair. I think we'll eat here every time we fly from now on.

Back home I decided to try cooking some more osechi. I've never, ever had to do it because my MIL always does everything, so I didn't want to get too ambitious. I decided to just try a few simple favourites, so I did yakitai (roasted sea bream), kani sarada (crab salad) and ozoni (soup with mochi), along with some quick cabbage pickles (not really osechi, I just wanted something pickled). My in-laws always order a great big sea bream that comes already cooked, wild-caught in the Seto Inner Sea, known for its delicious bream. I've always been under the impression that it must be really hard to cook, but mine (a little farmed one from nowhere famous) turned out beautifully and was surprisingly easy. I want to make this again, not just for new year's.

The crab salad was nothing special, my MIL's is much better and is presented really beautifully.

But the ozoni was good, it's very hard to screw up. It's almost the same as MIL's: a clear dashi broth with chicken thigh, hakusai (Chinese cabbage), mitsuba (trefoil) and square-cut mochi (rice cake), but instead of namafu (raw wheat gluten) I used shiitake. That's it above, with some of the sea bream.

Just like in Osaka, the day after eating yakitai we had taichazuke, which involves making a broth with the leftover fish head and bones and serving it over rice with any leftover meat. This is probably my favourite new year's food of all.

On January 7th we ate nanakusagayu (rice porridge with the seven herbs of spring) without taking a picture, but the herbs and the final dish look exactly like this every single year so I didn't bother with a picture. A few days after that is Kagami Biraki, which is when you break the kagami mochi (rice cakes displayed during the new year's holidays). That's our kagami mochi above, and you can tell how busy/lazy I've been because look at this year's compared to the one we had a few years ago. I mean, no little altar, an ugly fake citrus on top- I'm not even trying.

The mochi was stuffed into abura-age (pockets of fried tofu) and added to oden (a stew of vegetables and various fish and tofu products), which is not at all traditional but as you can probably tell by now I'm not too big on perfectly following tradition these days.

It was yummy though, even if this picture makes it look gross.

The final chapter in a Japanese new year is (I think) Setsubun, which falls on February 3rd. This is a time to drive bad luck out of the house (in the form of oni, best described as an ogre or troll) and bring in good luck. This is done by throwing around dried soybeans, which is really fun to do but rather annoying after because the floor is littered with beans. I really want to sweep them up as soon as they are thrown but seems wrong somehow, so I always mean to leave them overnight and clean them the next day, but by then they are already crushed or kicked away into crevices and I forget. And then for weeks or even months after I find the stupid little beans in random places. Like finding a forgotten chocolate easter egg in June, except not because it's a tasteless bean.

This year I got smart and decided to throw something different. A lot of people through whole peanuts instead, because they're easier to clean up, but I'm not a fan of raw peanuts (and like I have time to sit around shelling them). So I went with little bags of mixed nuts, and it may look like total cheating because there are no soy nuts but it was in the Setsubun section next to all the proper beans and accessories.

Besides being easy to clean up, these packages contain corn nuts and now you too know how to say corn nut in Japanese. What an awesome name, and if you think it makes no sense think about the name "corn nut". It's not a nut, people!

Some families get festive and dress up the dad or other volunteers as the oni. Oni are always red and blue and have horns (or a horn) and usually look rather grumpy. These ones were made at my playgroup so are on the friendly side.

Shuma would only tolerate wearing it for a second or two, so Hideaki and I had to be the oni.

But Shuma happily participated in the throwing part. All other customs, like eating your age in roasted soybeans (yuck!) and eating ehomaki (a fat sushi roll that is supposed to bring luck but is just a made-up thing to get you to but sushi were discarded. I will consider eating my age in giant corn though.

How my life has changed

I shouldn't have expected much, considering what an awful news site Japan Today is, but I was amazed at how bad an article called "How foreigners’ daily lives change when they live in Japan" was (yes, that's actually the title). Perhaps not totally Japan Today's fault (well, except for that title), as it's a translation of a Japanese article which is itself just a bunch of translated posts from an English-language Japan Reference thread (phew!). They seem to have gone to some trouble to find the least interesting posts and strip them of any humour or insight, and the result is surprisingly boring.

It made me think about how my life has changed, and at first I couldn't think of any ways that weren't age or marriage related (I've done a lot of growing up since I coming to Japan at the tender age of 22 and getting married at 25, naturally). I learned to love olives a few years back, for example, which probably would have happened had I remained in Canada (and might have happened much earlier had I chosen to make my home in, say, Spain). I've also learned how to actually dress for the cold, which definitely wasn't influenced by my adopted home, as Japanese women wait for winter to wear their mini skirts and short-shorts. It's very odd, jeans and long skirts are saved for the sweltering summer months.

But I digress. I finally was able to think of some ways in which my life has changed since coming to Japan, and here are a few of them:

• I've become much shyer. I've always been shy but was starting to come out of my shell when I first got here, and my imaginary alter ego that never left Canada is a wildly extroverted socialite by now. But the real me, after years of living in a country where I am always the bumbling foreigner, has retreated so far into my shell that I'm stuck. It's partly laziness, because in Japan shyness is actually a virtue for women so there is little motivation to change, and it certainly wasn't helped when I lost the hearing in my left ear (try making new friends at a party when you can't hear what anyone is saying). But mostly I'm blaming this on Japan.
• I've learned to sleep in public. Like at the park, in the "rest rooms" (which really are for resting) at hot springs and bath houses, and on public transportation. It's often hard for me to stay awake during a long train ride, and I've been known to nod off while standing during rush hour.
• My manners are atrocious. I sniffle instead of blowing my nose, shuffle my sandles and slippers instead of picking up my feet properly when I walk, and I apply Japanese table manners to non-Japanese meals (like slurping noodles, drinking soup right from the bowl, and spearing large chunks of food on my fork and then returning them to the plate). I know that my glass is supposed to go at the top right side of my place setting, but in practice it goes where ever it fits. My chair stays pushed out far from the table and I hunch over my food to eat it. I have no use for paper napkins (let alone cloth)- why bother when there is a box of tissues on every surface of the house, including the kitchen table?
  
• I'm missing out on a lot of culture. I used to go to the movies weekly, more when I could afford it. I'd see Hollywood movies, documentaries, foreign films, anything. Here in Japan, movies cost a fortune to see at the theatre, and rental shops usually ignore non-blockbuster type films. Not to mention the long delay- movies are released months later in Japan, and then by the time a movie is available on DVD more than a year may have passed since I first heard of it, and I've already forgotten about it. Plus there's the subtitle problem- Japanese subtitles for a French film don't help me mutch. So I miss out on a lot of movies. And at my age I wouldnt expect to still be going to concerts and clubs like I used to, but I always assumed I'd just trade those for the symphony and the theatre and other grown-up stuff. Well, I've only checked out symphony prices here once and I don't remember the specifics, only that I concluded that live classical wasn't about to be come my new pastime. Then there's the library- I used to practically live there, but even if I were to find one with a decent English book selection it wouldn't be a place to relax and spend time at. Libraries here are the domain of old men, and they occupy every seat all day long leaving nowhere for a youngish book-loving lady to browse. I also once frequented museums and art galleries, taking advantage of discounted days or free nights. In Japan the major museums are pricey and never, ever offer discounts, and popular exhibits are horribly crowded. True, there are plenty of smaller galleries and museums here that are free or affordable, but they are often so small and/or specialized that they aren't worth going out of my way for. Or maybe that's just my lack of culture showing. Damn you, Japan!
  
• On the other hand, I watch less TV than I did when I lived in Canada, and that probably goes far to balance my lack of culture.
  
• My posture is the pits. I used to have excellent posture, and was complimented on it frequently. But in my sixteen years in Japan I think I've had a grand total of one person mention it. It's not because people don't dole out compliments here, because they do- but it tends to be about different things. Like my height, my "tall" nose, or my "small" face. (Come to think of it I rarely hear the latter anymore. I guess second chins cancel out small faces.) Or really dumb stuff like my chopstick skills or my Japanese ability (most often after saying a single word like "konnichiwa"). But my (formerly) straight back and strong, graceful walk? Not noticed or appreciated. In Japan, a beautiful lady can slump her shoulders, lower her head and clomp around in her high heels and still be considered a beautiful lady. Not that I need compliments to maintain good habits, but it's hard to stay motivated to keep up something that isn't valued. And in the meantime, after years of dealing with miniature-sized furniture, low countertops and forehead-level door frames here, I'm starting to blend right in. (Well, minus the high heels and the "beautiful lady" part. At least I still have a tall nose.)
• I no longer need to drink sweet drinks all the time. Pop is for special occasions (OK, weekends). Juice is a treat too and no longer comes in a bucket-sized glass. Coffee may be sweet but it's for waking up or to go with dessert. If I'm thirsty I drink water, or hot green tea, or cold barley tea, or something else that doesn't need sugar.
  
• I've become more of a meat eater. This may be a surprise, since the Japanese are supposed to live on fish and vegetables, but as any vegetarian here will tell you: meat is everywhere. I ate very little meat before I came to Japan, especially red meat. I didn't even like pork. I got most of my protein from tofu and beans, and animal protein was usually chicken and shrimp. Maybe some lean ground beef once in a while, but that's about it. And then I came to Japan, where meat was in everything, and it was delicious. Even pork- especially pork. It's not like the average person here eats tonnes of meat or anything, but but most meals will have a small amount of animal flesh, and that's a very sensible approach.
  
• I've learned to appreciate fat. This is also a bit counter-intuitive, since Japanese cuisine is thought to be so light and healthy. It can be, but the Japanese also give fat its due, acknowledging that moderate amounts of it can be a good thing. This was hard to accept at first. I was used to lean meats, skim milk and low-fat everything. When I first came to Japan, low-fat milk was impossible to find and I couldn't stomach to 4% fat milk that was the norm. Low-fat cheese or ice cream or muffins didn't exist. The heavy marbling of wagyu (Kobe-style Japanese beef) and the gelatinous fat of braised pork belly horrified me. But somewhere along the line I gave fat a chance and realized something: it sure is tasty! Now I know that there is nothing more delicious than an ice-cold glass of full fat milk, low-fat products are usually not worth eating, and fatty meat is heavenly. Actually, I think a lot of North Americans have also been enlighted in this way, thanks to the foodie movement (sorry, I hate the word "foodie" but how else can I put it?). Maybe I would have learned to love fat if I'd stayed in Canada, but I'm pretty sure it wouldn't have been a wagyu steak that changed my mind.
  
• I've learned the importance of "ki wo tsukau" (to be considerate; to pay heed to another's needs). I've actually always been the type of person to make offers twice ("Hey, you want something to drink?" "No, thanks" "Are you sure?) or three times ("Are you sure you're sure?"). So in a superficial way I already got the concept, but it took a few years of living here for the true meaning of "ki wo tsukau" to sink in. It could be as simple as not hogging all the cookies on a shared platter, even though you're really hungry and they're your favourite kind. Or making sure that the person next to you can reach the soy sauce bottle, or doesn't have a bunch of empty dishes in her way. It sometimes shows up in weird ways, like a friend (or a few times, a stranger) entering the ladies room ahead of me and taking the washiki (Japanese-style squat toilet) stall and leaving the prized yoshiki (western style toilet) stall for me. An early lesson was learning to wake up my husband with a gentle kiss rather than a shove and "Hey, get up". The latter is actually easier, faster, and more immediately effective, but who wants to be woken up that way? I'm not all that good at it yet, and some people take it too far (it can easily turn into fussing, or be based on false assumptions, or cause excess inhibition), but when done well consideration is a very good skill for a human being to have.

There are many, many more, but it's past 10:00 and I need to get to bed. Can I blame that on Japan? Sure beats admitting I'm an lame old mom. For those of you living in Japan or otherwise abroad, how has your life changed?

Kinchakuda

At the end of September I took Shuma to Kinchakuda, a park in Hidaka City, Saitama that is famed for its flowers. I've been wanting to go for years but never had the time, and now that I often find myself at a loss as to how I'm supposed to fill up the days with a baby I thought this would be a nice little outing. I was right, and aside from a really sore back from carrying him for most of the day things went great. I'm guessing the early toddler years are a good time to do touristy stuff like this, before he's old enough to get bored of it.

The park can be visited as part of a hike or long walk, but I chose to go directly from the station (Koma Station on the Seibu Chichibu Line). It took about fifteen minutes and was a rather pleasant walk, along paths lined with farm fields, rice paddies and chestnut orchards. There were also vendors for much of the way selling local flowers, produce and crafts. I was interested in the sesame, which we'd seen growing a few years ago in nearby Hanno, and I wonder if the area produces a lot of it.

There were also plenty of flowers, and as we got closer to the park they increased, as did the crowds. After paying my 200 yen entry fee, this is what I saw:

The flowers in question are called here manjushage (曼珠沙華), and more commonly known as higanbana (彼岸花; English names include red spider lily, cluster amaryllis, and storm lily).

This is what a single flower looks like, and it's beautiful enough on its own, but people come here to see thousands of them together in a sea of red. Indeed, if you've seen a picture of a field of higanbana then it was probably taken here, as Kinchakuda is famed throughout Japan. Speaking of pictures, I wasn't expecting to take amazing ones, but here are some examples of what more talented photographers can do with these flowers.

So of course even though we went on a weekday we had to deal with major crowds, and it was slow moving along the narrow paths in the park. Luckily the place is well-designed and the number and layout of the paths make it possible to occasionally escape the worst crowding and also get some pictures that aren't filled with people.

There was evidence here and there of the previous week's Typhoon 15, one of the biggest storms to pass through in recent memory. Here a few trees have been knocked over but left where they lay, presumably so as not to disturb the flowers.

Near the middle of the park was a market area full of vendors selling snacks and local products, so I bought a simple lunch and found a place by the nearby Komagawa River to sit down and eat it. Shuma charmed the pants off of the surrounding picnickers, and the couple seen on the right in the above picture gave him a manju (sweet bun stuffed with red bean jam). Which I brought home for Hideaki, because Shuma hasn't discovered sweets yet.

Across the river was a small landslide from the typhoon. The river was nice and shallow and looked to be a great spot for swimming in the summer, so we'll be back.

The other side of the park was far less crowded, perhaps because the flowers weren't quite in full bloom yet.

Can you spot the dragonfly above? It's an akatombo (red dragonfly, or autumn darter), the same as the one below:

This is the Aiaibashi Bridge, a pedestrian bridge said to be the biggest of its type in Japan.

Every once in a while there were white higanbana, which are even harder to photograph than red (the flowers also come in pink and yellow).

Watch out squeamish people, a spider shot follows:

You didn't think I would do a whole post without a picture of Shuma, did you? Of course, it was hard to take his picture- he can stand by himself but every time I backed up to take his picture he would grab the flowers and try to eat or otherwise destroy them.

By the time I left the higanbana section of the park it was late afternoon. This would be a good time for serious photographers to visit, as the light was lovely and the crowds were thinning out.

Nearby there were fields of cosmos. The park actually has several types of flowers that bloom throughout the year, although higanbana are by far the most famous.

More pictures can be seen here.

 

Kinchakuda
Saitama-ken Hidaka-shi Koma Hongo 125-2
042-982-0268
15 minutes from Koma Station on the Seibu Chichicu Line; can also be accessed on hiking routes from Komagawa Station (JR Hachiko and Kawagoe Lines) and Hanno Station (Seibu Ikebukuro Line)
Open daily from 7:00am to 5:00pm during the higanbana season (two to three weeks around late September, but varies; season announced in September here)
Admission 200 yen during the higanbana season; free during the rest of the year
Parking 500 yen
Wheelchair and stroller accessible, but most paths are unpaved and crowds may be hard to navigate

Hammered

There's always something interesting on display at the fish market in our local Super Value (a discount supermarket chain), but this won't be topped anytime soon:

A whole hammerhead shark, landed in Miyagi Prefecture and selling for a mere 3800 yen. Alas, we don't have a pot big enough to cook the thing so we had to pass, but I did learn a new word: "hammerhead shark" is shumokuzame in Japanese.

Shinagawa Staycation

Hideaki had a Friday off this past weekend, which fell right between our anniversary and Shuma's birthday. We really wanted to take a trip to the beach to celebrate, but without time or funds for a drive or flight far away we were left with somewhere near Tokyo. Well, the water around Tokyo is already nasty enough, and although I doubt there is any appreciable amount of radiation in the ocean in these parts it just didn't feel right letting Shuma into the ocean. So after a long search for Tokyo hotels that both still had pools open (a lot of hotels have outdoor pools only, and the season is really short) and allowed babies in them, we settled on the Shinagawa Prince Hotel. I found a good deal that included a night in one of the best rooms (35th floor, main tower), four tickets to the pool and fancy buffet breakfast, and it cost 20400 yen for all of us.

It was a great choice as I had to go through Shinagawa anyway, on my way to immigration to pick up my new visa. So a little announcement: I now have a permanent residence visa! I no longer have to worry about extending my visa (or getting arrested for forgetting- oops!) and won't be kicked out when my spouse visa expires due to a divorce or Hideaki dying. Not that I'm planning anything, but, you know. It's a relief.

So back to the hotel: it's  not a terribly fancy place, but very very big and with lots to do (movie theatre, bowling alley, aquarium, two pools, tonnes of restaurants, shopping etc). We didn't leave the building (well, complex of buildings) for twenty-four hours but still really enjoyed ourselves. We started with just checking our room out. Shuma loves exploring new places and we might as well have been at Disneyland for all the fun he had.

Our view wasn't great, mostly office buildings and Shinagawa Station, but if Shuma were a little older he would have loved being able to see all the trains, especially the shinkansen (bullet train).

We had a late lunch downstairs at Anna Miller's. We were playing it safe because of Shuma, and the food was as unimpressive and overpriced as we expected, but I finally got to try the pie people have been raving about for years. Here's the thing- I love apple pie, and by apple pie I mean the North American kind with rich, flaky pastry and gooey, cinnamon-scented filling. The Japanese kind, with tough pastry and a firm, bland filling, just doesn't cut it. So I've been suspicious of Japanese peoples' claims that Anna Miller's apple pie is the best ever. But I had to try and it turns out that- yes! It's the best apple pie I've ever had in Japan. Maybe not the best in the world, but it's a true American apple pie. Yay. So I'll be back for a kid-friendly dessert sometime.

After lunch we tried the pool. There is an indoor pool, with a sauna, jacuzzi and kiddie pool, but it was off-limits due to swimming lessons at the time so we used the outdoor pool. It also had a kiddie pool, which was the only place babies were allowed and was freezing cold, and although Shuma and I are pretty tough when it comes to water temperature we didn't last very long.

The boys needed a nap after all that strenuous lunch-eating and pool-frolicking. Actually, I'm the one who needed a nap after getting a very squirmy Shuma in and out of his swimming diaper and swimsuit and stopping him from crawling away while I was changing, all the while trying to preserve my modesty and hide my tattoo, which is of course not allowed (the tattoo, I mean). It was exhausting, but he loved being in the water so much that it was worth it.

Next up was Aqua Stadium, the hotel's aquarium. This was Shuma's second visit, and the place is notable not so much for its aquarium displays (although the shark and ray tunnel is very cool) but for its seal and dolphin shows. I had been prepared to hate the shows the first time but found myself really enjoying them, and of course Shuma loved watching the seals and dolphins perform. This show was a little different from the first one, in that there were almost no kids and thus far less splashing (the first time I went everybody in the first few rows got soaked), the lights were darker, and the music they played before, during and after the performance was kind of romantic. Or at least the Japanese version of romantic: 80's ballads, 10cc's "I'm not in Love", and gospel! Apparently dolphin shows are a very popular date venue.

So he loved the show but he also loved watching the fish and other non-performing creatures, and the lights and waves and reflections. He probably would have had a great time without the trained sea mammals, and now that I think about it the part I liked best about the shows was just being able to sit down and watch at our leisure. Wouldn't it be nice if aquariums had seats to let you sit down and watch the fish? Actually, they did put out seats in the tunnel for the last few hours the aquarium was open, with the lights turned low and little tables with candles, and they were serving drinks so we sat down and had some champagne and watched the rays glide overhead. I think that's the best idea ever, but then we noticed that everyone else was in couples and we remembered it was like 8:30 on a Friday night so we gulped down our drinks and got ourselves out of there. I may be an obnoxiously doting parent, but I do realize that nothing spoils a romantic atmosphere more than a baby. Even a good one.

There is also a restaurant we didn't try that has fish tanks at every table. But more aquariums should have seats! It's such a brilliant idea. I'd never leave (maybe that's why they don't).

Watching Shuma's face was just as interesting as watching the fish. He was really mesmerised by everything and I wish more pictures had turned out.

After the dolphin show they announced that you could touch one of the dolphins for 700 Yen, and because we're idiot parents we stepped right up. Of course Shuma was scared, and in the special commemorative picture they took (which we didn't buy) he looked absolutely terrified. I think it was being held over a giant tank of water that scared him, rather than the dolphin itself, and who would blame him. They dolphin trainer was really nice about it (as was the dolphin), and let us just look at the dolphin from the side of the tank, taking quite a bit longer than the other kids. He also encouraged us to take lots of pictures, which is nice (too bad most of them didn't turn out).

I'm still totally on the fence about animals as entertainment, especially dolphins. When Shuma is a few years older and expresses an interest on his own I may try another dolphin touching/kissing/swimming type thing. Ooh, and a few years after that maybe he'll be old enough to take to Mikurajima or Ogasawara to see them in the wild! Can't wait.

We had a quick dinner at the hotel's family-friendly food court, and then went to bed early. The hotel has a daycare centre, right next to the aquarium and movie theatre, so we'd thought about putting Shuma there and watching a movie or getting some cocktails (or going upstairs to our room), but it turns out that you need to make an appointment for anything after 6:00 (and even then it closes at 9:00) and we were too late. This isn't a country that encourages people to have a life after kids.

The next morning we had breakfast at the hotel's nicest buffet. The food was pretty good and they had corner booths with low sofas reserved for families, so we got a nice place to sit. After checking out we tried the pool again, and because it was daytime and very hot it was excellent. We were able to stay for much longer, and also able to try the indoor area, and Shuma had such a good time and charmed the pants off of tonnes of people. Before going home we went across the street to TGIFriday's for lunch. Perhaps because we'd had something similar the day before, but I wasn't into greasy American food so didn't really enjoy it. Ooh, but I liked my cocktail and truly wished I could wean the boy right there and then so I could have more.

Shuma had a blast! We'd mentioned it was his birthday, so he got the full birthday treatment with a half-dozen staff members (and all the tables near us- I love that about Japan) singing happy birthday and a free dessert and picture. He had exactly the kind of reaction you hope for: several seconds of utter shock and confusion followed by total delight. It was so awesome that I want to do it a few more times (after all, his birthday isn't until next week).

The dessert (an ice cream sundae) was just a bonus, and of course we couldn't let him eat it with his dairy allergy and all so we had to finish it ourselves. We're such good parents. We did give him the maraschino cherry, which is the sweetest thing he's ever eaten so it goes without saying that he liked it. It was really nice of them to take a picture but it was not only a really bad photo but possible the worst one ever taken of Hideaki and I. Luckily Shuma looks OK, he's Mr. Photogenic.

And then we had to go home. It was sad for our little staycation (ooh, I hate that term, but what else can I call it?) to be over, but it felt like we'd been away from home for days. In a good way. Just one night, but much cheaper and easier to prepare for than a real vacation, and so much fun. We're thinking of making this a tradition.

 

Shinagawa Prince Hotel
Plans start at about 5000 Yen per person (double occupancy) in one of the annexes up to several tens of thousands of yen; if you're with family it's worth spending a little bit extra for a nice room in the more expensive main tower

Anna Miller's
Apple pie a la mode 819 Yen, whole pie 4148 Yen; other American style pies also available
High chairs for older children only (no belt)

Shinagawa Prince Hotel Pool
Indoor pool open 8:00am to 11:00am, 1:00pm to 4:00pm; 6:00pm to 9:00pm; Outdoor pool open 8:00am to 6:00pm from mid-June to mid-September
Admission for hotel guests from 1100 yen, various plans for non-guests
Babies and toddlers in diapers allowed in kiddie pools only (both indoor and outdoor pools)

Epson Aqua Stadium
Open weekdays 12:00pm to 10:00pm, Saturdays 10:00am to 10:00pm, Sundays and holidays 1:00am to 9:00pm
Adults 1800 Yen, 1000 for elementary and middle school aged kids, 600 for preschool kids above 4, free for kids under 4. Guests of the Shinagawa Prince Hotel (and several other nearby hotels) get 300 Yen off admission. Weekdays after 6:00pm admission is 1000 Yen

Food Court Shinagawa Kitchen
10:00am to 10:00pm 8 food counters plus (licenced) drink counter
High chairs for older children only (no belt)

TGI Friday's
Weekdays, Sundays and holidays 11:00am to 1:00am; Fridays, Saturdays and days before holidays 11:00am to 3:00am
Baby high chairs (with belt) and booster seats available

Baby Swings in and around Tokyo

This is a baby swing, common in parks all over Canada and, I assume, many other countries as well. But not in Japan. After Shuma fell in love with baby swings during our recent visit back home I've been searching the local playgrounds for them, without luck. What I found instead are these awful Japanese style swings.

In Canada most full-sized swings feature a nice comfy strip of rubber that can be used by both kids and adults, but Japanese swings' seats are made of a plastic board. This hurts to sit on, being a hard surface, and is so narrow that adults will find joints on each side jabbing painfully into their hips. If they can even get into it, that is: women blessed with wide hips, or adults of any gender with a few extra pounds (extra bonus points for being both, not that I would know anything about that) will have trouble in squeezing in.

To make matters worse, the seat swivels front to back, making it hard for little kids to balance on. I've seen toddlers and little kids being taught how to use these swings, and it involves lots of crying, begging to go home, and falling down on the kid's part, and plenty of "gambatte" (try your best) and patience on the parent's part. So there's a steep learning curve, whereas back home kids kind of segue naturally from the baby swing to the big swing without much fuss.

So naturally I'm on the search for proper baby style swings here in Tokyo, or even the rubber-strip style adult swings, so I can at least hold Shuma while I swing. After asking around I was relieved to learn that they do exist here, as I'd been worried maybe they were banned here or something. They are called omutsugata buranko (おむつ型ブランコ, literally diaper-shaped swing) or akachan-you buranko (赤ちゃん用ブランコ, baby swing) and are not yet widely known but starting to show up in newer parks. Unfortunately none of these parks are near me, or near anything I'd like to go to, but at least there's hope.

So here are the parks that I know of so far that feature baby swings. It's all heresay as I haven't actually been to any of them yet, so please let me know if any of this information is wrong. And please, please, please leave a comment if you know of another park with baby swings or rubber full-sized swings, anywhere in Japan but especially in Tokyo.

 

Parks in and near Tokyo with Baby Swings:

Korekiyo Takahashi Memorial Park (高橋是清翁記念公園)
Next to the Canadian Embassy, near Aoyama-itchome Station
Tokyo-to, Minato-ku, Akasaka 7-3-39 (東京都港区赤坂7-3-39)
03-5413-7015

Shinjuku Chuo Park (新宿中央公園)
In Nishi Shinjku
Tokyo-to, Shinkuku-ku, Nishi Shinjuku 2-11 (東京都新宿区西新宿2－11)
03-3342-4509

A small park outside of Shirokane-takanawa station
Address unknown (Let me know in the comments if you have any info)

Kinuta Park (砧公園)
Near Youga Station in Setagaya
Tokyo-to, Setagaya-ku, Kinuta Kouen 1-1 (東京都世田谷区砧公園1-1)
03-3700-0414

Sakae Park (さかえ公園)
Next to Ario Nishi Arai in Adachi-ku, near Nishi Arai Station
Tokyo-to, Adachi-ku, Nishi Arai Sakaecho 1 (東京都足立区西新井栄町1) 

Toneri Park (舎人公園)
Near Takenozuka Station in Adachi-ku
Tokyo-to, Adachi-ku, Toneri Kouen 1-1 (東京都足立区舎人公園1-1)
03-3857-2308 

Besshonuma Park (別所沼公園)
Near Naka Urawa Station in Urawa, Saitama
Saitama-ken, Saitama-shi, Minami-ku Bessho 4 (埼玉県さいたま市南区別所4)
048-836-5678

Showa Kinen Park, Tachikawa (uncomfirmed- let me know if you see swings there)