Kodomari

It’s true.  They are better.  I came to this conclusion last Friday, when Trevor and I attended a program at the elementary school.  In Kodomari, the elementary school houses grades first through sixth, and each grade put on an exhibition of some kind, including plays for the older kids and jump rope and hula-hoop routines for the little ones.

The program began with a welcome from the first graders, and then the fifth graders put on a skit in which they taught the audience “common English sayings,” like “Lazy Jack is overwhelmed with work,” and “Frog croaks it will rain.”  This was most amusing to Trevor and I, as we’ve obviously never heard any native English speaker say these things.  More plays and routines followed – a play about a sad red demon who couldn’t find a friend from the third graders, a jump rope routine and dance from the first graders, a play on time travel from the sixth graders.  Cutest of all was a hula-hoop routine from the second graders, where they spun the hoops around their necks and hula-ed multiple hoops at once, then put on a little Hawaiian dance and a longer sparkler dance.

I entered the gymnasium that morning thinking it would be similar to our music programs in the United States, silly and terrible and goofy, but I was so impressed by the children.  All their routines and plays were so lengthy and complex.  The first graders had memorized so many different jump-rope formations and their dance was so long. The second graders performed all these difficult tongue-twisters and did a five minute dance. The plays were fifteen to twenty minutes each, and everyone knew their lines and said them with such expression.  In the States, the kids would have been goofing off, giggling, and not paying attention, but here everyone gave it their all.  Of course they are still children, so they had an occasional mistake and cute goof-up, and their dance and singing skills were adorably bad, but they were all so focused and prepared.

Kodomari - view from the hills

It seems to me that here in Japan adults expect more of their children.  If we gave our little ones a dance to do, it would be a minute or two and, attention-span and memory-wise,  we wouldn’t think they were capable of much more.  But these Kodomari kids rose to the challenge of long dances and many lines.  Also, the plays the older ages put on were much more dramatic and dark than I think ours would be – the fourth graders’ play was about a family who gets separated and the mother is put into slavery, and the third graders’ play ended with the poor little red demon weeping alone because she couldn’t find a friend.  Trevor and I were rather shocked, but the kids seemed capable of handling it.

I’ve noticed this difference extends to movies for children, too.  In Japan, Hayao Miyazaki’s animated films (Spirited Away, Princess Mononoke, My Neighbor Tottoro, and his latest Panyo) are standard fare for both children and adults.  Compared to our animated movies, in which there are clear-cut good guys and bad guys, pretty princesses and dashing heroes, these films are so much more complex and ambivalent.  Take Panyo, for example, a vague retelling of The Little Mermaid: the “bad guy,” Panyo’s father, wants to keep her a fish against her will, not because he’s mean and hates humans, but because there will be ecological damage if she changes into a little girl.  He’s no Ursula, doing evil things because he’s bad; he just wants to protect the earth from flood and tsunami. And Princess Mononoke is even more complex – the humans and forest creatures are fighting for dominion, and both sides are right and wrong.

Observing how the Japanese treat their children has made me realize that kids are capable of a lot more than we often give them credit for.  I came away from the Elementary School Program feeling so proud of those little ones, so impressed with how hard they tried, how eager and excited they were. And they’re cuter.

In other news, today is Culture Day, and the Japanese have this day off.  I’m not sure of the proper way to celebrate such a day, but Trevor and I split a piece of mochi cheese bread.  It was most delicious.

I noticed them on my first day in Japan, in an arcade in Goshagawara.  I mistook them for Guinea Pigs, so I said to Trevor, “Dolly, oh Dolly, you must win me one so I can give it to Marysa, and in the meantime sleep with it at night, and call it Gwyn!” 500 yen later, I had one.  My very own Guinea Pig stuffed animal.  But when we brought it home and Trevor translated the tag, my dreams were crushed.  It wasn’t a Guinea Pig at all! It was a Capybara! You know, a Capybara, one of those weird South-American, large rodent things.  And then wherever I went I saw them.  Shelves and shelves of Capybara.  Crane games full of Capybara.  Books about Capybara.

Kapibara-San in cran game

It turns out these capybara are known as Kapibara-san (Mr. Capybara) in Japan, and they are all the rage.  They were created as little toys to win at arcades, but the Japanese loved them, and demanded more Kapibara-San.  Hence the stuffed animals, tissue covers, massage toys, magnets, key chains, cups, pens, notebooks, rice ball molds, towels, Bento boxes, slippers, wallets, calenders, travel-sets.  Halloween-themed Kapibara-san, dessert-themed Kapibara-san. A Kapibara-san for any occasion or purpose or product.  You could deck out an entire house in Kapibara-san.

Yes, they are adorable.  But they don’t look like actual capybara.  Capybara have long legs, and these have stubby legs.  Like Guinea Pigs.  Oh well.  In Japan, I guess things don’t have to be anatomically correct, or have function or substance, they just have to be cute.  Kawai!  If someone asked me to sum up Japanese culture, I would say: Kapibara-San.

Here is the official Kapibara-San website, for your perusing pleasure: http://tryworks.jp/

Arcade in Goshogawara

One of the ways in which Trevor helps his students here in Japan with their English is asking their likes and dislikes: Which fruits do they like, which fruits they dislike; which animals do they like, which ones they dislike.  And you know what? Though no one asks me, I have likes and dislikes, too! Oh yes I do. And like any person encountering a new culture, I especially have likes and dislikes when it comes to Japan.  There are some things about Japan that make me think, “This is awesome! Why isn’t it like this in the US?” and other things that make me want to high-tail it back home.  And then there are the things that make me go, WTF….

Like: The People. I can only speak for the people of Tohoku, or North Eastern Japan, but the ones I have met are truly lovely.  They go out of their way to accommodate me, make me feel included, make sure I understand what’s going on.  Several days after I arrived here two women from Trevor’s Eikaiwa (English Conversation Class) called and offered to take me on a tour of Kodomari.  The people of Kodomari are very proud of their town and culture and want to share it with foreigners.  Little old women stop me in the street and chat (I have to smile and walk away) and children run up and hand me pieces of dried squid (which I pretend to eat until they are not looking, then give to Trevor).

Like: The Children. The children of Japan are drops of Angel pooh.  I want to eat their fat little faces.  There is one baby, Ken, the son of Trevor’s co-worker, who I plan to lure away and keep for myself.

Dislike: Fish Smell. Kodomari is right on the ocean, and many people here make their living through fishing, particularly squid fishing.  Squid is often hung up to dry or sell in front of people’s houses, and as you get closer to the harbor, especially on warm days, the smell of dead squid is overpowering.  Everyone here is obviously used to it but I’m sure not.

Like: The Fashion. Japanese fashion is awesome.  Japan has a lot of influence in the world of fashion, and people here, especially the youth, dress very innovatively.  Knee-high socks, high heels, hats, skinny jeans, dresses.  And everyone dresses up to go out.  Even here, in so-called “hicky” Tohoku, people look put together and elegant, unlike in the United Sates where sweats at the grocery store or mall are common.  Also, cheaper clothes than in the US = Me buying a lot of clothes = Happy Anna.

?????: Popular Music. Popular music in Japan is an even popier version of ours.  Electronic, boppy, childish voices.  And the English.  They often throw a phrase of English into a song that doesn’t actually make sense, like “I’ve got a bad case of the interplanetary love jones.”  And the names.  SMAP.  Mr. Children.  Flumpool.  It’s weird.

Dislike: The Stares. The people here are very polite, but they can’t help staring at me. I don’t blame them – in a region where literally everybody is Japanese, it must be strange to see a blonde, Caucasian girl walking down the street.  Their stares aren’t degrading or gross, just curious.  Still, I don’t like being an object of curiosity.  I wish I could take walks without feeling so conspicuous.  Once I went with Trevor to his junior high school and a large group of students followed me around giggling and pointing.  I sometimes avoid leaving the house, and when I do I put much more effort into my appearance than I would in the US, because I know everyone is assessing me.

Like: Peanut Soft and Fried Tofu: My basic food staples in Japan.  Peanut soft is like a sweeter peanut butter.  It took a long time to get used to, but now I’m hooked. The fried-tofu is self-explanatory.

?????: Hello Kitty.  She’s on packages of bananas.  She’s on medicine boxes.  There’s even a Hello Kitty airplane you can take if you chose.  I don’t know why.

Dislike: Feeling Impolite. Japanese society is very hierarchical and therefore there are certain ways to talk to people, eat food, even hand a piece of paper to someone.  And like in any culture, there are certain customs and manners particular to Japan that I don’t know about.  I feel like I’m always violating some ritual.  I don’t know how much to bow, how to eat certain foods, if you should say hello to a sales person who greets you in a store.  The good thing is that most people seem to be very understanding. 

??????: The Engrish. I saw a purse the other day in a store that says “Ginger Spice Fairly Pungent.”  The label on a loaf of bread reads “For kind consideration lunch or dinner.”  I bought a shirt that says “Moisture or the world is dried up.”  The Engrish is so frequent that it’s starting to lose its humor.

Like: Blood-Alcohol Level Limit. Is zero.  In Japan, driving while having any alcohol in your system, even a sip, is considered drunk driving and therefore illegal.  If you want to drink, you have to arrange a ride ahead of time.  This deters a lot of drunk driving in Japan, and I wish it was this way in the US.

You can win bread in this arcade machine.

?????: The Arcades. Take the arcades in the US.  Put them on crack.  Then on steroids.  Then you have an idea of Japanese Arcades.  There are photo booths, games, crane games.  You can win anything in arcade machines: toys, stuffed animals, Pringles, cups of noodles, ice cream, MP3 players.  On my first day here Trevor won a Capybara stuffed animal for me.  We’ve had no luck since then, but I’m holding out hope for a Cheshire Cat.

Graveyard next to Hirosaki shrine

In traditional Gen Y style, many of my college friends are scattered about the globe, and I’m actually closer to them in Japan than I was in the United States.  One of these darlings is the lovely and talented Carrie, and this past weekend she hopped on down from Korea (where she is teaching English) for a visit.

In Northern Japan (specifically Aomori Prefecture where we live) there is not too much to do – it’s rather sparsely populated in comparison to the Southern Japan of Tokyo and Kyoto, or even Hokaido with Sapporo.  However, there is one amazing city in the area known for it’s historical attractions, and we were saving a trip to it for Carrie’s visit.  Hirosaki is about two hours south of Kodomari, and is filled with shrines and apples, and one very famous feudal castle.

Hirosaki Castle

We spent Sunday wandering about the streets of Hirosaki, dodging the rain, losing umbrellas, and discovering shrines and temples. At one temple Carrie and I participated in the tradition of getting a paper fortune and tying it to a sort of rope wall of fortunes – if it is a good fortune, tying it up will make it come true, if it is not a good fortune, tying it up will make it not come true.  Trevor was only able to translate a little of our fortunes, so we weren’t sure if they were good or bad.  We tied them up anyway.

After exploring a famous temple (Saishoin, with it’s famous pagoda as a repose for the dead) and a shrine or two, we made our way to the historical Hirosaki castle.  It was built by the Tsugaru feudal lords in the early 17th century, and the tower still stands today.  It is perched on a wall and surrounded by a moat, and overlooks acres of castle grounds.  With my Anglo-oriented world-view, it’s still a bit of a shock for me to see castles that look completely Japanese and not at all European, but I very much enjoyed this castle.  After climbing to the top of the castle (which is actually very small on the inside, only three floors), we explored the grounds.  We came in the off-season for the botanical gardens, but we still saw some lovely trees and parkland and a breathtaking rock garden with koi fish.  (I actually think the koi are a little gross.  I don’t like fish.)

This weekend in Hirosaki was the first time I truly felt like a foreigner.  I adore history, and I get agitated when I can’t place things historically – however, because none of the site-seeing guides at the temples and shrines were in English, I didn’t really know the historical context of what I was seeing.  I felt like I was missing out on a lot and not absorbing the full meaning of these important places.  Then Trevor, Carrie and I went to a rather fancy tofu restaurant for lunch, and at the table next to us were four elderly Japanese ladies in kimonos.  I thought my chopstick skills were pretty admirable until they started giggling at me in a nasty little way.  In Kodomari, everyone is so patient and understanding, so I was a little hurt and surprised they would make fun of me.  Traveling also brings up difficult communication situations, and when we asked for directions to a restaurant the staff at the hotel didn’t bother to tell us (or maybe tried, but we didn’t understand) that all the restaurants in the area were closed for dinner, and subsequently we ended up wandering about in pouring rain for half-an-hour.  Then when we came back, wet and cranky, we asked where the hotel dining room was – they again told us, but didn’t mention it was closed for the night.  We ended up ordering pizza in our rooms.

Despite the headaches that come when traveling in a foreign country, it was a lovely weekend.  Hirosaki is one of the main spots in Japan for cherry-blossom trees (sakura), and I can’t wait to visit in April or May when all the trees surrounding the castle will be in full bloom.  Note to all my international (or not international!) friends: if you come in the spring, we will take you to see the cherry blossoms, too!

Fortunes tied up

Statue at entrance to shrine, with offerings at his feet. He's obviously well-fed. = )

I’m cranky about food, at least.

I have been a vegetarian since graduating high school (five years ago), and I knew in coming to Japan it would be difficult to find vegetarian food, as many of their foods are fish or meat based and they often don’t have the variety of foods found in the United States.  I didn’t realize, however, just how difficult it would be, and how very cranky it would make me.

In more cosmopolitan areas of Japan there would likely be a greater variety of foods, including vegetarian options, but here, in the Northern part of Honshu, being a vegetarian is unheard of.  When Trevor and I go to the grocery store, nearly everything is a meat or fish dish, and even the things that wouldn’t appear to have meat in them do; potato and corn soups and vegetable curries have a base of fish or pork bullion.  An employee at one grocery store told us that a vegetable curry had no meat in it; when I ate it, I found ground up pork bits.

Even more frustrating is going out to dinner, as often nothing besides fried potatoes are vegetarian.  Last week we were at a restaurant in Kodomari and ordered a veggie pizza, assuming it would be vegetarian as all of the toppings were vegetables.  However, the tomato sauce had bits of ground beef in it.  I didn’t want to make a fuss, but Trevor asked the owner of the restaurant to remake it, if possible, without meat sauce, and the only thing she had instead was ketchup.  So I had a lovely pizza with ketchup sauce.

Because of the lack of food without meat or fish, my daily meals are pretty monotonous, with bread, fruit, a salad, and tofu and rice for dinner, and going to a restaurant is rare.  I can live with that, but it frustrates me that in Japan, where many people are Buddhists, vegetarianism is such a bizarre thing.  When Trevor tells people I don’t eat meat, they look at me in shock and start to interrogate Trevor about what I eat and why I don’t eat meat.  To me, this seems rather close-minded; apparently, no one here can live a fulfilling life without munching on animals.

But then I wonder if it’s a mistake to bring something like vegetarianism to another country.  In the United States, being a vegetarian is simple and I know tons of people who make this choice.  But is it narrow-minded of me to bring this personal principle to Japan? When you go to another country, should you adapt to their ways? Are people here insulted that I’m not eating their food? Am I missing out on a basic cultural experience if I don’t eat the majority of Japanese cuisine?  Obviously, one person being a vegetarian won’t change anything, so what’s the point?

But even with all these doubts, I still can’t bring myself to eat meat or fish, because I just don’t believe in it.  Well, at least with my diet of fruit and salads, I’ll be super-duper healthy.  If anyone has dealt with their own difficulties of being a vegetarian in an Asian country, please share your experience or tips with me.  I’m open to all suggestions.

After further research, I believe the little statues we saw on Tuesday surrounding the shrine were Jizo, protector of travelers and the souls of children.  People who have sadly lost a child to death or miscarriage dress up the little Jizo to protect the souls of the children.  It is sad to know that’s what all these little guys mean, but also  touching – the shrine seems like a peaceful place to grieve, and it would be comforting to think these Jizo are looking after children.

Jizo Statues at a shrine in Nakasato

Little Ones by the Shrine

The first three days of this week are national Japanese holidays – Monday was Respect for the Aged day, Tuesday was a national holiday (actually just a day off because it fell between two holidays) and today, Wednesday, is the Autumnal Equinox.  Obviously it’s the autumnal equinox everywhere, but in Japan it is celebrated by visiting the graves of ancestors and praying for them.

Because of the holidays, Trevor has had a five day weekend, and we’ve spent it exploring the area surrounding Kodomari.  Yesterday was warm and lovely and we visited several spots along the ocean.  The water is so clear and blue, and I sat on a rock and dipped my toes over the edge.  Then I thought of all the squid the fishermen catch along the coast that we see hanging up to dry, and I quickly pulled my toes out.  The last thing I want is a squid thinking my toes would make good cuddle-buddies.

Next we made an ill-fated attempt at visiting a castle site.  We followed the signs through a hilly wooded area up to a very narrow, treacherous looking road.  We were unsure whether we were meant to drive up it or not, but we gave it a go, as we didn’t see anywhere to park.

We crept higher up this road until we realized we couldn’t go farther.  There was not enough room to turn around, so we slowly reversed down the edge of this mountain.  A note about Japanese roads: they have this deep gulf on the sides, a sort of deep drain, a long rectangle cut out of the pavement, and I have no idea what they are intended for except to cause terrible accidents.  Well, as we were backing up down this mountain in the woods, we had our first encounter with this drain thing – yes, our tires got stuck in them, and it took much spinning to get out.  Luckily that’s all that happened, and we didn’t tip or flip.  As soon as we got to a place where we could turn around and drive forward again, we sped out of there, back to the highway.  So, no castle site for me.  Fail.

Instead, we visited a shrine in Nakasato, a town neighboring Kodomari.  The entrance was right on the side of the road, next to a restaurant, and when we arrived a procession of little old ladies was making its way to the shrine, with several women beating drums or ringing bells.  When they got to the two statues at the entrance they put little offerings at their bases, food and soda and whatnot.  Trevor and I went up the stairs built into the hillside, and when we came out at the top we found a shrine surrounded by several tall statues and a semi-circle of little people statues.  All the little people, or the “little fellows” as I called them, were dressed in dresses, hats and aprons, and they were so beautiful.  I have been trying to research online what these little people are, exactly, what they represent, and what dressing them means, but I’ve found varying explanations.

If anyone knows, please tell!  It was so fascinating – in the middle of this regular town, just off a busy road, was this breath-taking shrine, and there are so many like them throughout Japan, all different.  It was like opening a treasure-chest.

In other news, Trevor and I watched some television this morning, and there was a commercial for weight-loss.  The “before” woman, the “fat” one, weighed probably 110 pounds.  She was walking in a store and holding up all these dresses longingly, like, “oh, if only I were skinny I could wear these.” I was not amused.

Trevey and me at "Athletic Event."

Today (Saturday) Trevor and I were invited to an “athletic event” at the nursery school.  Yes, an athletic event at the nursery school.  Trevor received a hilariously official invitation, complete with a schedule, and when we arrived at the baseball field where it was held we were ushered to special seats as guests of honor.

The three hour event began.   Think of the cutest thing you have ever seen and multiply that by ten: that’s how cute it was.  The children ranged in ages from six to one.  Yes, even the one-year-olds participated.  It began with a march, a song (which was so adorable I had tears in my eyes from laughing), and a race.  Everyone ran to the best of his or her ability, including  one-year-olds who were helped down the track by their mothers, and crashed into one another when they were let go.  One little girl from the “Tulip Group,” the youngest group, cried every time she participated in something.  It was very long and the children did many activities, like relay races, tug of war, and obstacle courses, much more than I thought they would be able handle, but they were more or less attentive to the end.  They finished with a parent-child dance, complete with pon-poms, and all fifty of them (or so) were awarded a medal, even the one-year-olds.

For me, this “athletic event” highlighted the differences in how children are raised in Japan and America.  There are of course many similarities – for instance, all the parents were taking pictures and videos like at any kids’ event in the Unites States.  However, they seem to impart different values to their children.  In the United States we often teach children to be proud of themselves, to be individuals, and to discover their unique talents.  In Japan, the focus is on team-work and trying hard.  I asked Trevor to tell the young daughter of his co-worker that she did a very good job, and he said it wasn’t easily translatable, and instead would tell her she tried hard.  To me this is very odd, but starkly shows the differences in our cultures.  Imagine not frequently telling children “good job!” Instead, they praise their effort and skills.

These differences in child-rearing are applicable to the wider culture, as well.  In the United States we want to stand out and be praised for our talents, while in Japan the focus is more on working on behalf of the group.  Before I came I didn’t think I would understand such a culture, but now that I’ve experienced how people go out of their way to make me feel welcome and included, I definitely see how living in Japan would have many benefits over the United States.

All-in-all, today was the cutest day of my life, and I don’t think it could possibly be topped.  The children are so well-behaved and adorable.  It was also nice that for once I didn’t have to know any Japanese to enjoy the day.  And I think I’ve had my fill of Japanese children music for a lifetime.

Kodomari on the Ocean

Here are five unusual things (people, practices, customs) I’ve observed since arriving.

1.  The Loudspeakers: Every house in Kodomari has a little radio from which the town broadcasts announcements every day (though I’m not sure what the announcer says, I think he gives the news, pertinent information, goodmornings, etc).  This is weird – as my mom said, kind of Big Brother-like – but everyone here thinks it’s very normal.  You can also turn the radio off, as Trevor and I do, so the announcements don’t come blaring in, but you can hear them echoing through the town.  On Monday morning this happened when I was sleeping, and I freaked out, thinking there was a man outside my window.

2.  The children.  I had heard that Japan had a population problem, in that there were many old people and the younger generations weren’t having enough children to support the aging one.  However, everywhere I go I see kids, kids, kids.  Good thing they are beautiful Japanese children.  One of Trevor’s co-workers gave us a ride to the party Tuesday night, and his wife and children came along, the most gorgeous children I have ever seen, a three-year-old girl and a one-year-old boy.  They are so tiny, with chubby cheeks.  I wanted to eat their faces with a spoon.

3.  The roads.  In Japan they drive on the opposite side of the road from Americans, and the streets are very narrow and winding.  This caused me to freak out the first day we drove, thinking we were going to careen off the side of a mountain or hit an oncoming car.  Also, the cars are much smaller than cars in the United States and look like little moles.  In the United States the houses are lined up along the road with the front-door facing the curb, but in Japan (or at least this little town) everything is plopped down in all directions and angles.  Sometimes the back doors face the road, and sometimes a house isn’t on a road at all, it seems.

4.  The people.  Everyone has been so accommodating and kind, so eager to help me.  This is very different than many Americans’ attitudes to foreigners who don’t speak English.

5.  The similarities.  Perhaps the strangest thing about Japan is how very similar it is to the United States in unexpected ways.  The mall in Goshogorawa was like any American mall, except instead of English there was kanji.  We went to a store that was very much like a Walgreens, and another that was similar to a Walmart, called The Great Superstore. When walking in a grocery store, suddenly there will be Frosted Flakes or Dole Bananas among all the strange sea-food.

Playground by the Ocean

While I’m not sure travel blogs are of interest to anyone but the traveler’s parents, here is my attempt at one, with a very humble, Japanese hope that you enjoy it.

I arrived in Japan in Narita Airport in Tokyo on Saturday, September 12th, after a near-fourteen hour flight.  The most noteworthy thing about the flight is how delightfully un-noteworthy it was.  Since I was a young girl I have been prone to airsickness, so I was dreading the flight.  Luckily, though, before I left my doctor gave me some anti-nausea, anti-anxiety pills.  I was told they would make me “a little drowsy.”  In fact, they acted like a horse tranquilizer, and I was out for the whole flight, much to my relief.

Trevor met my very groggy self at Narita, and we took a bus to another airport to fly to Aomori, the closest city to Trevor’s town.  (Unfortunately we were on the outskirts of Tokyo, so I wasn’t able to see the city).  After arriving in Aomori we drove for two hours to his little home in Kodomari, a small, small fishing village on the Sea of Japan, right at the Northern tip of Honshu, the main island.

Though I’ve pretty much been in a weird daze since landing, I’ve managed to do some things of interest.  On Sunday Trevor and I drove to Goshogawara, a city about an hour and a half a way, and went to the mall.  We played one of a plethora of arcade games and he won me a big Guinea Pig stuffed animal (in honor of Marysa), and then we ate at Mr. Doughnut, a delectable little place.  We went shopping a bit at the mall, too, and tried to scrounge up some vegetarian things for me to eat. (Vegetarianism is not common in Japan, and nearly everything is fish or meat based).

On Monday night I went with Trevor to his English Conversation class, in which he helps several middle-aged women practice their English.  It was a lot of fun, as the women were hard workers and very kind to me.  Tuesday night there was a party for Trevor and the other JET in the neighboring town at a local restaurant, and I went along.  This was a very awkward experience.  Every food on the table had eyes and stared at me.  None of Trevor’s co-workers knew English and I know exactly three phrases of Japanese (Hello, Nice to meet you, and Excuse me), so he had to translate everything, which made me feel terribly vulnerable and childish.  Everyone was also going out of their way to accommodate my vegetarian diet, too, which made me feel bad for causing such a fuss.  Also, the Japanese business dinner is very strange in general.  It started out with everyone making speeches (including Trevor, who was told to make a speech on how much he liked Japan) then disintegrated from such formality into utter drunkeness.  By the end of the night, there was a table full of Japanese men smiling at me all groggy-eyed.  Before dinner ended we showed Trevor’s coworkers a photography book of Madison so they could see where we came from, and everyone seemed impressed.  I felt like a proud Mama.

This morning two ladies from Trevor’s conversation class very kindly took me on a tour of Kodomari – they showed me the ocean, the harbor, the mountains, a museum dedicated to author Osamu Dazai (a very famous mid-century author who grew up in the area), and a Buddhist Temple.  I have seen many beautiful places, and this may be the most breathtaking.  The ocean sparkles, the roads are winding, and at twilight the mist comes up from the mountains – such scenery couldn’t be anywhere but in Japan.   (The header to this blog is a picture I took of a hill jutting into the ocean, with the island of Hokaido all ghostly in the background.)

Outside Buddhist Temple

So that is what I have done of noteworthiness.  During the day I read and write and watch DVD’s of Mad Men, and try to adjust to the time change.  I’m still trying to wrap my head around being in this new world, when only days ago I was home.