"Though here at journey's end I lie . . . I will not say the day is done."

As this post goes up, our airplane will be taking off from Nagoya International Airport. After much contemplation and deliberation, we have decided to return to America to pursue our education, careers and family life. To be able to live in Japan was the fulfillment of a dream for us- but right now our dreams are taking us back home. It is, therefore, with deep sadness (this blog really grew on me . . . ), that I close 'From the Far East', a blog that focused on our adventures in Japan.

BUT, as the Japanese saying goes, "goodbye is only a new beginning" and I will be starting a new blog once we get settled into our American lives. Stay tuned for more musings, as I'm confident that adventure can be found anywhere . . .

Check out my new blog detailing the life of a librarian here: http://agoodsketch.blogspot.com/

Conversations about Blood Type

To give you an idea of the prevalence of the notion.

Meeting A for the first time . . .

A: Hello, my name is A.
Me: I'm Heather, its' nice to meet you.
A: So . . . what's your blood type?
Me: Uh . . . I don't know . . . should I?
A: *shocked* Oh, um . . . *walks away confused*

I frantically research my blood type in preparation for the next encounter . . .

Having lunch with friend AB . . .

AB: How is your lunch?
Me: It's very good! This place is really nice.
AB: So, what's your blood type?
Me: *proudly* I'm a B negative!
AB: Oh . . . a B? That's not good . . .
Me: . . . Is there something wrong?
AB: Oh, I just don't get along with B's.
Me: Oh . . . sorry . . .
AB: You must not be a B. B types are loud and obnoxious.
Me: No, I think I'm a B.
AB: I know! You must be a BO instead of a BB! I don't get along with BB, but you must be BO. Are you?
Me: Um . . . I'm a B negative . . .?
AB: *blank stare* (muttering) You must be a BO . . .

I try to figure out what BO could stand for . . . and hope it isn't what it sounds like . . .

At a Cafe with friend AO . . .

Me: Do you believe in blood typing?
AO: It is a scientifically proven fact. I don't have to believe in it.
Me: O-kay . . . how do I find out if I'm a BO or a BB?
AO: How could you not know?
Me: *sighs* Guess I'm new to this.
AO: Well, all you have to do is *strange math calculation involving my parent's blood types* . . . then you would be a BO.
Me: . . .
AO: Or if you *more strange math using my parent's blood* . . . then you're probably a BB.
Me: . . .
AO: So what are you parent's blood types and I'll tell you what you are.
Me: . . . I don't know . . .

I consider trying to find out whether I am a BO or BB -- then I give up . . .

Conversation with my English student B . . .

Me: Do you judge people by their blood type?
B: Of course!
Me: *sigh* Well, what is your blood type?
B: I'm a B.
Me: Really? Me too!
B: Wow! We're really naughty!
Me: What?!
B: Having a B blood type is considered really bad in Japan because we're very independent and do everything at our own pace. It's just our personality . . .

These are all actual conversations I've had with Japanese friends about blood type. I could tell you a different one for every friend and most of the acquaintances I've had here. I once saw a statistic that said about 70 percent of Japanese believe that blood type determines personality. About 50 percent judge all their encounters with other people -- whether romantic, friendship or business related -- by blood type.

For those of you who actually know your blood type, here are the general personalities.

Type O:
Type O's are outgoing, and very social. They are initiators, although they don't always finish what they start. Creative and popular, they love to be the center of attention and appear very self confident.

Type A:
While outwardly calm, they have such high standards (perfectionists) that they tend to be balls of nerves on the inside. Type A's are the most artistic of the blood groups. They can be shy, are conscientious, trustworthy, and sensitive.

Type B:
Goal oriented and strong minded, type B's will start a task and continue it until completed, and completed well. Type B's are the individualists of the blood group categories and find their own way in life.

Type AB:
Type AB's are the split personalities of the blood groups. They can be both outgoing and shy, confident and timid. While responsible, too much responsibility will cause a problem. They are trustworthy and like to help others.

Japan Pays For What It Eats. Twice

It used to be that the Japanese would try hard to stay fit, simply for the overall image of their company or community. With an increasingly Western diet and lifestyle, however, the Japanese are putting on weight at a rate that has alarmed the government. With health care costs growing exponentially, the Japanese government is passing new laws regarding health, one of which makes routine company health checks mandatory.

Big businesses in Japan have been issued their ultimatum. They have until the year 2013 to get their employees meeting government health standards, or the company could be fined. New health standards include goal waist measurements of 33.5 inches for men and 35.4 inches for women - guidelines from the International Diabetes Federation. People failing to meet this goal are undergoing health education, being forced to take the stairs, participate in company exercise programs and eat company issued lunches.

This program is rooted in money, which seems to be the best motivator for losing weight regardless of nationality. I do not think, however, that a program like this would work in the United States, simply because it is penalty rather than reward based. Americans love to be rewarded. The fact that we eat dessert after dinner is proof enough of that, as we are usually rewarding ourselves for eating a good, healthy meal. The Japanese eat dessert before dinner, often with their friends or peers to strengthen themselves as a group. If nothing else, this program works in Japan solely due to their overwhelming sense of wanting to belong and contribute to the group. As the Japanese proverb says, "the nail that sticks out, gets pounded in" or in this case, the belly.

Abstract Arrangement

I've always loved flower arranging in Japan because it goes so far beyond a vase. This arrangement, which I made in a recent class, was created by pushing wire enforced (so they bend easier and stay standing longer) flowers and leaves into green water-retaining foam. The entire arrangement symbolizes a climb towards heaven as well as the relationship between heaven, earth and humans (the Sunflowers). It also hints at the Japanese ideal of subtlety as you have to look closely to observe the yellow roses at the bottom. After taking my arrangement home and staring at it for a few hours, however, the abstract nature of the summer grass started grating on me and I had to take it all out.

I am much happier with this version of my arrangement, although I can't help feeling that it looks very western compared to the first one. My favorite aspect of either version, and this particular experience with flower arranging, came at the very end of the class when our teacher told us to take all the flower scraps on the table, including stems and leaves, cut them up/apart, and use them. We weren't allowed to leave any scraps on the table and I absolutely loved it! I have a veritable forest at the base of my arrangement from perfectly good leaves and stems that I would have thrown away otherwise.

Another fun thing about this class was seeing how differently everyone's arrangements turned out despite following the same directions. The roses especially seemed to bring out personalities as some people displayed their roses prominently above all other foliage, while others buried them as deep as possible. Regardless of how the flowers were placed, however, the arrangement wilted within about 24 hours. Overall, it was a neat lesson in spiritual symbolism, subtle beauty, conservation, individuality and impermanence - oh, and flower arranging.

Pass the Sugar, Please

The other evening we had the opportunity to have dinner with friends, hosted by a Japanese family. After a first-rate dinner of pork cutlets and gyoza, a light pudding was served for dessert. As I ate my pudding I couldn't help savoring the subtle hint of sweetness coming from the cream used to make the pudding. I thought to myself how well it was that I could enjoy a pudding that had such subtle flavors, especially for an American palate. I was just about to congratulate myself on finally adjusting to the non-sweet and often bland nature of Japanese cooking when the daughter of the family suddenly pushed her pudding away in disgust exclaiming, "I can't eat this! It's too sweet!" I was shocked and infinitely grateful that I'd kept my mouth shut. Her mother apologized to her daughter, saying, "I'm sorry, but because I knew foreigners were coming to dinner, I added more sugar than usual." I couldn't believe it. I ate the rest of my pudding slowly, trying with all my might to think it was too sweet. Needless to say, I failed miserably and spent the rest of the evening quietly pondering my inability to recognize sweetness when it was presented in such large quantities. What other flavors might I be no longer capable of tasting due to my years of overindulgence in Western society? Just some food for thought . . .

What's Wrong With This Picture?

Look closely at this picture and you'll find that if it had been taken in America, there would be two serious problems; those being the omission of the numbers 4 and 9. Because this picture was taken in Japan, however, the mishap of omitting these numbers would be nothing compared to the disaster of including them.

The Japanese consider 4 and 9 to be very unlucky numbers due to their similarity to the Japanese words for death and agony when pronounced. Many hospitals and other buildings in Japan do not use these numbers on rooms or for floor numbers. Instead, they have opted to use words or letters to represent these floors, such as the letter 'F' for the fourth floor. In other cases, such as the one seen above, apartment managers or airlines may choose to simply exclude these numbers altogether.

My Basket

Since we've been here, we've collected about ten times more plastic grocery bags than we need to line our trash cans. Recently, however, our grocery store solved that problem for us as they started to charge 5 yen (about 5 cents) per plastic bag in order to be more environmentally friendly. So we decided to do our part and buy a "My Basket" from the store.

With a "My Basket" you go to the store and do your shopping in a regular cart or basket, storing your "My Basket" underneath. When you get to the cash register, you hand the cashier your basket and they then load all your groceries into the basket, rather than into bags. When everything is in the basket, the cashier tapes a paper over the top to indicate the groceries inside have been paid for and you're on your way.

The biggest problem with the basket so far is that even though everything fits inside, it is too heavy for me to carry. So I usually end up taking a backpack or tote bags in addition to distribute the weight. I also can't help wondering how many plastic bags went into making my pink plastic basket.

The Narrow Road to the Deep North

Matsuo Basho (1644-1694)

Matsuo Basho continues to be recognized internationally for his brief and clear poetry depicting the seasons as well as his circumstances as he traveled throughout Japan. One such journey, recorded in his travel narrative titled "The Narrow Road to the Deep North" ended here in Ogaki. Here are a few highlights from his travels taken from this book and accompanied by photos from the area in Ogaki where he completed this journey.

Days and months are travelers of eternity. So are the years that pass by . . . I myself have been tempted for a long time by the cloud-moving wind - filled with a strong desire to wander (97).

Sumiyoshi Lighthouse

It was with awe
That I beheld
Fresh leaves, green leaves,
Bright in the sun (100).

Biten by fleas and lice,
I slept in a bed,

A horse urinating all the time
Close to my pillow (120).

Boat from Ogaki's years as a port town.

I am awe-struck
To hear a cricket singing
Underneath the dark cavity
Of an old helmet (134).

As firmly cemented clam-shells
Fall apart in autumn,
So I must take to the road again,
Farewell, my friends (142).

Point Cards

It may be that I've forgotten a lot about everyday life in America, but I'm pretty sure we don't use these like the Japanese do. What we have here are point cards, or cards that you have stamped when purchasing goods or services from various establishments hoping to collect enough points to get some sort of discount or free item. Now, I know that these are used to some extent in the States because I'm fairly certain I can remember getting a stamp on a card for something somewhere at some point. The major difference, however, in my opinion, is how rampant their use is here. You can't shop anywhere without collecting a point card. In fact, I'm pretty sure I've collected more point cards than points. The above picture is a sampling of some of our cards which include haircuts, the cleaners, the movie theater, the grocery store, donuts, ice cream . . . I won't show you how many points we've collected on some of those. In some cases, instead of collecting points on a card, the establishment will keep track for you. For example, Pizza-La, our delivery pizza place will tell us every so often that we have (once again) earned free chicken nuggets or orange juice. Making use of the Japanese service industry is such a rewarding experience.

Sakura - Cherry Blossoms

Branches hang over the river.

Close-up of a blossom cluster.

Making arches.

Pink and blue sky.

Boat through the branches.

Full bloom.

Sakura above, Field Mustard below.

Blossoms begin to scatter.

Petals float downriver.

Clogging the waterways.

Snow in the spring.

New flowers grow, where fallen petals lie.

The Legend of the One Night Castle

As cherry blossoms tinted the city pink, we began searching for good 'viewing' locations. Sunomata Castle, in our very own Ogaki, had miles of cherry trees and nearly as many street vendors selling cherry blossom flavored ice cream and fried squid on a stick. Sunomata Castle isn't just a festive location for flower viewing parties, but has a rich history, evident in its alternate name - The One Night Castle.

During Japan's turbulent feudal period, many warlords attempted to unify the nation. Toyotomi Hideyoshi was successful, however, and his unification brought hundreds of years of peace to Japan. While there are many legends behind Hideyoshi's rise to fame and leadership, the legend of the One Night Castle is one of the more popular ones.

As the legend goes - according to various accounts that I've collected both by word of mouth and on the internet - while serving as Oda Nobunaga's general, Hideyoshi was given the task of securing this region. Because he was given a limited number of men, Hideyoshi needed to do something quick and impressive. So, working under the cover of night, Hideyoshi and his men constructed a 'castle' from paper and logs they floated down the nearby river. When the local warlords woke up the next morning, a castle-like fortress had literally sprung up overnight. Because they were impressed with his seeming manpower and strength, Hideyoshi easily pried the region from the other warlords. (And then he probably used all his new manpower to build a real castle.)

Hideyoshi's legendary One Night Castle was, of course, burnt to the ground many years ago in the battle to conquer Japan. The castle that is seen today was rebuilt fairly recently by the city of Ogaki to honor Hideyoshi and his legacy.

Housewarming Gifts

In the States, when someone new moves into the neighborhood, it is customary to take cookies or some other offering over and introduce ourselves. In Japan, however, the housewarming gifts come from the newly established neighborhood residents. This past Sunday we were pleasantly surprised to find a box of saran wrap in our mailbox with our new neighbor's name and apartment number written on it. I believe that it is customary for the housewife to go and introduce herself to thank the new neighbor for the gift . . . I haven't gone yet. Maybe I'll wrap some cookies in my new saran wrap and teach them how Americans move into neighborhoods. (^_^)

Our Balcony Garden

One very sunny and warm day a few weeks ago, I happened upon a display of flowers for sale outside a shop. The weather was so unusually beautiful and the flowers so cheerful that I ended up buying a few. That moment of weakness resulted in a garden that takes up most of the space on our crowded balcony. I have yet to regret it, however, as I often find myself gazing at my potted flowers and wondering why I’ve never had any before.

In addition to the flowers, we decided to attempt growing some of the vegetables that we haven’t seen since the last time we shopped at Wal-Mart. Celery was at the top of our list, but as we browsed through the different kinds of seeds available we ended up getting some radishes and zucchini as well.

Of course my love for completely green, edible plants (i.e. herbs) is ever present, as I also planted some peppermint and parsley right by the door for easy, all day access.

Our herbs and vegetables really aren't too exciting yet, as the only green they're currently sporting is my plastic grass motif. We are, however, very much looking forward to watching our tiny garden grow in deliciousness over these next few months.

Shojigami: The Art of Paper Tearing

If you hired a contractor to build you a new home and his proposal included walls, doors, and windows made of paper, you'd fire him on the spot, right? Well after you fired him, he would head over to Japan where paper architecture has been flourishing for over 2,000 years. Among the various doors and room dividers made of paper, shoji remains the most well known and is often regarded as necessary for a Japanese look. This past week, we decided to lend our guest room some of that Japanese ambiance by taking down our curtains and re-papering some shoji frames that we found in our shed.

Papering shoji turned out to be fairly simple and actually quite fun. We laid the frame down on our kitchen floor, spread glue on the wood, and then rolled shoji paper slowly over the frame as seen in this picture.


After the shoji paper was securely glued to the frame, we left it on the kitchen floor to dry. This wasn't a real brilliant move on our part, as Tyler soon put his foot through the paper. After ripping everything off and starting over, we moved the frames to a safer location and allowed them to finish drying before trimming the excess paper off the edges.

After trimming the edges, we sprayed a light mist of water on the back to shrink the paper a little and tighten it. Although this is wonderful for overall shoji aesthetics, it was also a mistake. The paper tightened so beautifully that when we were putting the doors into the window and Tyler's knee bumped against one of the panels, it ripped again. At this point Tyler was muttering things under his breath that sounded like ' . . . paper in houses . . . whose stupid idea . . . ' so we left it and went to bed.

Although I can now say that we have beautiful shoji in our guest room, I also have to wonder, as Tyler did, whose stupid idea was this? You can't say that we're just clumsy, foreign oafs because the Japanese break their shoji too. Although I've seen many fist sized or finger sized holes in shoji over the years, the best example that I've ever seen and the best case yet for not having these in the home comes from our friend's house here in Ogaki.

When their two little girls started crawling, an occasional fist or foot flew through the bottom panels. Now that the girls are walking and getting taller, they can punch the paper higher and higher and beam with pride every time their super strength tears through the doors.

And yet, despite all this, I would re-paper my shoji a thousand times for its sheer beauty, simplicity, and for the way warm sunshine filters through the paper. Shoji may not be able to withstand the playful poke of a child's finger or the gentle nudge of an adult knee, but perhaps the creation of something beautiful, yet impermanent, was what the Japanese had in mind all along.

"Today is the Joyful Doll Festival"

Happy Girls' Day! March third is a day of celebration for girls in Japan known as "Hinamatsuri" (Doll Festival), "Momo no Sekku" (Peach Blossom Festival), or simply "Girls' Day". It is a day for families to celebrate with their young daughters and pray for their future health and happiness (i.e. marriage).

When a new girl is born into the family, grandparents or other relatives will give her a set of dolls. These dolls are not played with, but are displayed on Girls' Day. A detailed description of the dolls can be found here. There is another tradition associated with dolls in which men, women, and children transfer their ill fortunes to paper dolls before casting them into local rivers and streams, allowing the currents to bear the evil away.

The association with peach blossoms comes from the lunar calendar in which March third marked the coming of spring and blooming flowers. (In today's solar calendar this doesn't happen until April.) Peach blossoms also symbolize a happy marriage as they signify the feminine traits of gentility, composure and tranquility.

For little girls who are not concerned with marriage and ill fortune, however, Girls' Day is a day to enjoy the many Japanese style confectioneries, or wagashi, that are available during this time. I decided to treat myself to some of these this year, but was extremely disappointed by the prices. In particular, I had wanted to buy a wagashi that is probably pure sugar because it melts the instant it touches your tongue. I have been given many of these over the years but never did I fully appreciate them until I tried to buy some for myself and found that a box with the equivalent of 5 sugar cubes in it costs about $6. So I passed on those and got myself a variety pack (as seen in the picture above) which has miniature gummy versions of popular wagashi. You may notice that the candies seem to be colored mostly in red (pink), white, and green. The red is for chasing away evil spirits, the white is for purity, and the green is for health.

In addition to enjoying expensive, colored sugar cubes, girls may also find themselves humming this festive song set to this dark tune.

あかりをつけましょ　ぼんぼりに
Let’s light the lanterns [on the doll stage]

おはなをあげましょ　もものはな
Let’s offer flowers - peach blossoms

ごにんばやしの　ふえたいこ
Five court musicians are playing flutes and drums

きょうはたのしい　ひなまつり
Today is the joyful Doll Festival

As an interesting side note . . . Girls' Day is not a national holiday, but Boys' Day (in May) is.

Wherever We Go, There They Are

One of the nice things about living here in Ogaki is our relative location. We can get on the train at Ogaki Station and by heading East for 30 minutes be in Nagoya, Japan's third largest metropolitan area; or we can head West for 30 minutes and be in the deep recesses of the Japanese Alps. Last weekend we headed West, through the mountains, on our journey to Osaka. Recently it has been quite cold here in Ogaki and we've had some snow, but mostly we've been watching the mountains get dumped on from our balcony like in this picture.

Now, either I was really paranoid (refer to our adventure in Kyoto in Japan Today Newsletter 12/6/2007) or else I underestimated the efficiency of trains in Japan, but as we traveled through the mountains I was sure the trains were going to be stopped by the heavy snow. As we passed through the small mountain communities that actually had train stations, the snow reached the train windows, meaning it was almost three feet deep on the platform and the opposite tracks were completely covered. The conductor even stopped opening the doors at our stops unless someone wanted off or on because it was too cold to keep the doors open. As the train continued to wind its way through this winter wonderland we saw countless buried rice fields making patterns in the snow as seen in this picture taken from the train.

After making it through the mountains, we continued on to sunny Osaka where we stayed with the Miura Family. The Miuras are special to us because the last time we were in Osaka I was friends with Naomi, a wonderful woman who has spent a lot of time in Los Angeles and wanted to get married but was fed up with Japanese men; and Tyler was friends with Tsuyoshi, a man who had also spent a lot of time traveling outside Japan and wanted to marry a woman who didn't necessarily think the way Japanese women do. Well, as it turns out, we all ended up attending the same church (Tyler invited Tsuyoshi to attend after meeting him on the street) and Naomi and Tsuyoshi were married a few months before us. They now have an adorable 1 year old daughter. On Sunday, we were all able to go to the church where we met together and it was exciting to see how many of the church members remembered us and how warmly we were once again welcomed.

Although Tyler and I have been back to Osaka together before, this was the first time that we gave ourselves time to freely explore together. When we lived there before we had both loved walking by a certain moat that surrounded a kofun near a beautiful park in Sakai. We had never been there together so we set off to find it. Locating the path was a little tricky since neither of us could remember exactly where it was. It took our combined memories (Tyler knew it was across the tracks and I knew it was further west) to find it. It was fun knowing that neither of us would have found it without the help of the other.

We also went to my school, Kenmei Gakuin, to see my host sister graduate. It was fun to see the school that I attended as an exchange student, but sad to realize that none of my friends were there anymore. Most of the teachers that I had known were also either on leave, abroad, retired, or had quit. I was not completely without acquaintances, however, as my first friend at the school, Hiroko, had come with us to the graduation. After touring the school together we went out for some Okonomiyaki and I was happy knowing that even though my days at Kenmei were over, the relationships with my friends were not. This was made even more apparent to me that evening as we went over to my first (I had three total) host family's home for takoyaki and kitsune udon. My host mother hugged me and nearly cried herself into hysterics and we talked and laughed the evening away with my Japanese sisters over their new jobs, entering university and their desire for rich boyfriends.

The warm feelings that our Japanese families and friends left stayed with us all the way home and carried us through the snowy mountains back to Ogaki. After arriving back in the city we currently call home, we stopped by a friend's house for a quick chat about their weekend and to discuss getting together later in the week. After laughing and talking with them for the better part of an hour we finally headed back to our apartment. As we biked through the frosty night, Tyler and I mused about all the wonderful people we had encountered throughout the weekend and felt blessed to have so many friends throughout this tiny island.

To Television Set Owners

The Japanese have somehow managed to squeeze bribes-- er, extortion-- I mean, fees into nearly every aspect of daily life. "Key Money" is a fee (amount varies between 2 to 6 months of rent) paid to your new landlord on top of your first months rent and deposit. Not only does this money help ensure the rental, it also allows you to show your (mandatory) gratitude for being allowed to move in. ATMs charge fees for using them after their normal business hours. (I'm assuming this fee is somehow connected to paying the machine overtime wages.) And car owners beware! When buying a car in Japan, mentally add at least $10,000 to the displayed price because your insurance, inspection, and mandatory repair costs every two years can be thousands of dollars. Even though we have had time now to acquaint ourselves with these various fees, the latest addition to our monthly bills really floored us.

Last Saturday, in the middle of a snowstorm, a man arrived on our doorstop. Our conversation with him went something like this.

Man: Do you watch TV?
Us: Um . . . yes?
Man: Do you have a Broadcast Receiving Contract with NHK?
Us: A-- what?
Man: You owe us money.
Us: HUH?!
Man: Read this pamphlet.

At this point we were given a pamphlet in English with a large "To Television Set Owners" printed on the front followed by a Q&A section. Although there were many questions with very detailed answers, after reading it through very thoroughly we realized there were really only two take away points.

Q: Why should I pay the TV Receiving Fee to NHK simply because I own a TV set?
A: Because I said so.
Q: Great! Where do I sign up?
A: First give me money because I walked all the way over here in the snow. Then give me your bank account number so I can take more money out.

Feeling alarmed, I slipped away from the door and let Tyler talk to the NHK representative so I could look this up online and make sure we weren't being scammed. Unfortunately, this turned out to be quite legit. Apparently there is such as thing as "public broadcasting" paid for by the public as opposed to "commercial broadcasting" which uses advertising for funding and profit. Despite the overall legitimacy of this new fee, I am starting to understand more fully why Japan continues so happily as a cash society -- cash is highly untraceable.

Washoku

Yesterday I decided to try my hand at preparing washoku (traditional Japanese food) for dinner. Having never ventured far into this genre, I thought a good place to start was with our washoku cookbook of the same name by Elizabeth Andoh. After three hours of browsing recipes that called for fish heads and devil's tongue (I kid you not) we had chicken for dinner and "Washoku" (2005) went back on the shelf. I think I need a little longer to get used to the idea of a diet that as Tyler says, "comes from someone standing in the ocean with a butterfly net and eating whatever gets caught in it." In the meantime, however, I am very impressed with the ethos and aesthetics of washoku as presented by Andoh. Here are the five principles of washoku that can be applied to meals with or without fish heads.

Five Colors (go shiki): Every meal should include foods that are red, yellow, green, black (or dark purple/brown), and white. Vitamins and minerals will come into balance naturally if your food is colorful.

Five Tastes (go mi): Have a harmonious balance of flavors - salty, sour, sweet, bitter, and spicy -to stimulate the palate without overwhelming it.

Five Ways (go hoh): Prepare food with a variety of methods such as simmering, boiling, and steaming to limit the total amount of sugar, salt, and oil consumed.

Five Senses (go kan): Be mindful not only of taste, but also of sight, sound, smell and texture.

Five Outlooks (go kan mon): This principle is concerned with the way in which you partake of food and has its basis in Buddhism. First, respect the efforts of those who made the meal possible. Second, do good deeds worthy of nourishment. Third, come to the table without ire. Fourth, eat for spiritual and physical well-being. Fifth, be serious in the struggle to attain enlightenment.

For those of you still in doubt, here is an example offered by Andoh of a soup-and-sandwich lunch that follows these principles. "Imagine the following: pale and creamy potato-leek soup, nutritionally and aesthetically enhanced by a garnish of snipped chives and minced parsley, alongside tuna salad spread on triangles of whole-grain toast, accompanied by a lemon wedge, several cherry tomatoes, crisp radish sprouts, and pitted black olives . . . this American lunch follows the color, flavor palate, and multi-preparation guidelines of a washoku meal. Because it adheres to the five principles, this soup-and-sandwich lunch also achieves nutritional balance and visual interest" (p. 5). And there you have it! Perhaps by following these principles I will somehow eventually acquire a taste for dried sardines and kelp.

The Art of Making and Eating Mochi (Have Your Vacuum Handy)

I hadn't meant to post again so soon, but I wanted to get this up before January was over since it has relevance to the New Year. We had the opportunity to participate in some traditional mochi making (mochitsuki) a few weeks ago. Now what, you ask, is mochi? I've heard it defined as a "glutinous rice cake" but that doesn't mean much to me (half of the things we eat over here can be called rice cakes). I think the best way to describe it is to explain how it is made. Rice that has been soaking for a long time (often over night) is cooked, usually over a real fire. The cooked rice is then placed in a large stone mortar (usu) and then pounded with a very large pestle (kine). One or two people will alternate pounding the rice while another person has the responsibility of turning the rice, keeping it wet with warm water, and dodging the huge hammer.



The sticky mass that results from this process can then be formed into shapes (usually spheres) and added to many traditional New Years dishes such as 0-zoni or my personal favorite, oshiruko. I'm also quite fond of kinako mochi which is prepared by roasting the mochi over a fire, dipping it into a sauce made of water, sugar and soy sauce and then coating it in kinako (soy flour). To those of you who are now drooling on your keyboards and are on your way out the door to buy some mochi (yes, it can be purchased) I offer the following suggestion: CHEW! And then swallow. This way you may avoid becoming yet another New Years mochi casualty. Because it is so sticky, mochi will easily lodge in your throat where even the Heimlich can't get to it. But wait! Don't Panic! A leading Japanese online medical reference recommends using your vacuum cleaner to suck it out! Although this method doesn't seem to be universally approved of, it has saved at least one life.

Japanese Emoticons

Recently it has been too cold to crawl out from under our kotatsu, meaning we haven't been doing much traveling outside the city. As I've sat huddled under blankets in front of our space heater I've had some time to keep in touch with a few of my Japanese friends through texts. It has been a very disturbing experience as I realized that even with my decent conversational Japanese skills I couldn't understand the texts at all. 顔文字, kaomoji, or Japanese emoticons, seem to be at the root of the problem.

Research has shown that culture is a huge factor in determining where you look when interpreting facial expressions. The Japanese are more prone to look at the eyes, whereas Americans look to the mouth to know whether someone is happy or sad, etc. This cultural phenomenon is perhaps most evident in emoticons. A typical American smiley face : ) and sad face : ( look thus. While the Japanese happy face (^_^) and sad face (;_;) look thus. In the American emoticons, the mouth changes to signal the mood, whereas in the Japanese kaomoji, the eyes change and the mouth remains the same. Here are some of the Japanese emoticons that stumped me when I first saw them:

1. (ToT)

2. m (_ _) m

3. (#^.^#)

4. ＿|￣|○

5. ヽ（´ー｀）┌

Can you match up the emotion with the emoticon?

A. depressed
B. mellow
C. crying
D. apologetic
E. shy

Go here for more fun with emoticons from the West and East alike.