School Days--4th Grade Ukiyo-E

Koshi's woodblock print

About the end of November, Koshi (my 4th grader) came home with an order form from school.

"Mama!  I have to get one of these for school!   Hayaku, kaite! (hurry--fill it out!)"   These.  One of these...what?   Hmmm....another case.  He has two other similar cases--second grade was a case with paints, a palette, and brushes (not Prang, either--they use acrylic paints in a tube from kindergarten).  Third grade was the calligraphy set--brush pens, ink, weights, inkbox, a roll-up mat.  I was ridiculously jealous of my own son for getting to have something that cool for school in the third grade.  Iiiiii naaaa....

He picked out a dragon case (again), and I put in the money (Y2300--$25) and filled out the form, without really understanding what it was he was going to get or what they were going to do with it.  When the set was delivered to school, he brought it home to show me.

"Neat-o, honey!  What is it?"   "Tools!"
Thanks, Koshi.  I could see that they were tools, but I couldn't get from his explanation ("They're for art!") what exactly they were going to be doing with those.... hmmmm.....what *are* those?  Exactly?

No matter--I figured I'd find out eventually.  Parent-teacher conferences were coming up in December, and they always have out the things the kids had been making in art class.

And  then he brought this home:

Wow!  So *that's* what those weird-looking tools were for--making a woodblock print!  I don't ever remember getting to make anything that cool in elementary school art class (iiii naaaa....).  Or anything that difficult, either, for that matter.

...a closer look

...the claws...

...the teeth....

...the dorsal striping...

Can you see the red and blue paint staining the carved-out areas?  All the fourth graders made prints, several, in fact, in different colors from their carved wooden plates.  They were all displayed in the hall when I went for parent-teacher conferences:

All the prints were very detailed, and the kids had clearly worked hard on them.




A brief moment of sickening parental gloating:

   (I thought Koshi's was the best one.)

Sorry.  All done ;-))

Here's a closer look at those tools.

Yeah--that's exactly what I thought.

Those are *sharp*.

And every kid in the fourth grade has a set like that.

That's a lot of sharp.

They trust kids in Japan.  They trust kids,  because they know the children have been carefully taught how to be careful.

I noticed it before my kids were born, while teaching English in various language schools.  All the jr. high and high school students I taught usually had a cutter knife in their pencil case.  They used the cutter knives to trim down handouts so they could be glued into their notebooks, among other uses.  I was always fascinated by how carefully every student I saw used their cutter knife.  Remove cap and set aside. Push the blade out one or two notches--no more than necessary.  Cut.  Cut.  Cut.  Slide blade back.  Replace cap.  Put away in pencil case.  *Then* glue the paper in the notebook (or whatever else).  Under no circumstances do I ever recall seeing a cutter knife carelessly left out on a desk, certainly not left open out on a desk.

This was astounding to me until I had kids of my own, and *really* began to watch how the Japanese teach and interact with children.  I can think of a number of examples off the top of my head, but I know that as soon as I hit "Publish",  I'll think of ten other better ones.  So since this post is getting a bit long...

...To Be Continued.... ;-))

Koshi's favorite print

Land of Cute--Coffee Creamers

I don't usually post Land of Cute twice in the same week, but we were out of coffee creamer (and something else which I can no longer remember).  I sent my husband to the store.  This is what he came home with:

Can you tell what it is?  Start at the top--rabbit...dragon....snake.... the Zodiac!  Well!  I was utterly charmed.  The chinese zodiac on coffee creamers!  Last night I got the chicken (酉 とり--Tori);  this morning I had the dog (戌＝いぬ Inu)

うさぎ　(usagi) The Year of the Rabbit

Next cup of coffee--I want the rabbit...cho kawaii!  He's adorned with a plum blossom, too.  My oldest is a dragon (which means he'll turn 12 next year.  Already?!). (辰＝たつ Tatsu=Dragon)

...I'm a 申(さる)--Monkey (Saru).  Teddy (my itazura-ko) is the 午(うま), Horse (Uma), though it seems we ought to be reversed.  Cici is a Monkey with me, as is my mother-in-law, which means that all the women in my husband's life are Monkeys...
I wonder if that says anything about him? :-))

My husband is the Boar (Inoshishi)...

Rat (Nezumi), Cow (Ushi), Tiger (Tora)

Here are the rest...

Which one are you?

(p.s.--I always wondered why there is no Year of the Kitteh.  Legend has it that the Cat, who never woke before noon, was late to answer the call of the Jade Emporer.  Historians have this to say:

"Most historians agree that Cat is not in the list since the 12 animals of the Chinese Zodiac were formed before Cats were introduced to China from India with Buddhism."  (via Wiki)

Aha.  Mata asobou, ne!

Land of Cute--Construction Zone

The library is on the other side of the station from here, so we tend to reserve books online and only go once a week or every two weeks.  I don't mind going that way, though, because there's usually somebody in the river--Kosagi or Aosagi, pintail ducks migrating through in the winter, sometimes cormorants.

The other day I came up out of the tunnel that goes under the train tracks to find that the concrete sides of the riverbank were being torn out and re-done.  The open areas were carefully blocked off so that no one would topple into the river.  Blocked off with these:

Why they felt that the stabilizers holding the poles should be shaped like winking frogs was not entirely clear to me.  I also noticed that I was the only person who appeared to notice these 'tweet wittle pole-holders.  The Japanese simply expect that their construction sites will adhere to a certain level of cuteness.  When I lived up in Tokyo (just after getting married), I used to see the most adorable little...power shovels. I know-- "adorable" is not the adjective you usually see describing "power shovel", but, well,  this is The Land of Cute.  Power shovels must be two shades of teal with purple accents!  I used to wonder whether high school girls were in charge of decorating the power shovels of Tokyo.  The first time I saw one, I checked all around it--I was convinced that there *must* be a Kitty-chan sticker on it somewhere, and  was mightily disappointed not to find one.  I still think somebody vandalized that power shovel....

And those construction safety fences...you didn't think they only made frogs,did you? ;-))

The Year of the Rabbit

Umeshu--Umeeeee shu!

Umeshu with Shi-Shi-Mai

A confession:  I don't drink much.  I'm not in any way a connoisseur of any kind of alcohol, so you may take this post with whatever size grain of salt you think is necessary ;-))

I'm no teetotaler, though--I like a glass of wine every now and again.  I've never been much of a beer-drinker, however, in spite of the fact that I majored in German in college, lived in Hamburg for a year, and was a German teacher.  The Rhine wines, on the other hand (especially Spaetlese)...  And now I live in Japan, married to a Japanese guy--and I must confess (while I'm at it), that I have never been fond of Sake.  Dreadful, I know.  But my husband likes it even less than I do, so it's nothing to do with being a foreigner, at any rate.  He, in fact, drinks even less than I do (if that's possible)--he turns pink like the Quick Change Tree after half a glass of beer or four sips of wine (a fact which I found irresistible on our third date...).

But I hadn't been here too long before I discovered something I *did* like:  梅酒, ume shu.  Plum wine (or, liqueur, if you prefer).  Best. Stuff. Ever.  If you like sweet desert wines, that is, although I think Umeshu is somewhat lighter than port or sherry.

Prunus mume

I said "Plum" wine--but while they look mostly like a plum,  Ume are really more closely related to the apricot, and thus are variously referred to in English as "Japanese apricot" or "Chinese plum".  It is, for some unaccountable reason, my favorite of the flowering trees.  Yes, I love the plum blossoms even more than the cherry blossoms.  The photo above was taken last year--I'm waiting for this year's blooms...about the beginning of February usually (though unusually warm weather can cause an earlier flowering).

The fruit appears and starts to ripen in June, just as the rainy season starts.  This is so predictable, that Chinese and Japanese use the same Kanji for "rainy season"--梅雨.... "tsuyuu" in Japanese--literally "plum rain".  Summer before last I was out with the kids catching crawdads, and fell into conversation with some older people who were doing some volunteer work cutting the tall grass near the pond we were fishing in (the one up the road where I saw the Intermediate Egret).  Somehow the conversation turned to Ume and how to make Umeshu--I mentioned that I was planning to try my hand at it.  Upon hearing that, the very kind O-Baasan of the group pulled out a plastic grocery bag and put a kilo of plums from her own bag into it and handed it to me.  Here is the recipe she gave me:

1 kilo green Ume
600g -- 1 kilo rock sugar ("Koori satou"= "ice sugar")
1.8 litres white liquor (or shochu, which may be the same thing)

1) Wash the plums gently in cool water, drain.
2) Remove the stems with a toothpick and pat dry with a kitchen towel.
3) Layer the sugar and plums in a large glass, seal-able container (the one in the photo above is 4 litres) --sugar, plums, sugar, plums--until both are used up (if you bought a whole kilo of sugar, you don't have to use it *all* up unless you like yours quite sweet).
4) Pour the white liquor in.
5) Seal and store for at least three months in a cool dry place.  Pick up the jar and gently swish it around once a week or so, to keep things mixed up well.  Stick a label on as to when you put it up, if you're forgetful like me.


That's it --enjoy!  This is good stuff.  Mine came out very strong, so I cut it with water or seltzer and put *lots* of ice in it.  Very cold Umeshu with lots of ice on a sweltering day is not to be missed--it's very refreshing.  In addition to "Ume-Rokku" (on the rocks), you can mix it and make Ume Sour, or Ume Tonic, or Ume Soda (my favorite!), or heat it and drink it warm like Gluhwein after a bath on a cold night.  Both cold and hot Umeshu are popular drinks at Onsen (hot spring resorts).  Even the stuff cold in cans out of the vending machines at onsen tastes pretty nice after a soak.  (Which reminds me:  don't let me forget to tell you about The Vending Machines of Japan sometime...)

You can make it yourself, but of course you don't have to--there are any number of commercial brands available, the best known of which is probably Choya.  You can get Choya in the big, tall, glass bottle with some plums in the bottom, or in a carton, and recently in smallish cans, too.  I think they all taste fine--here's the commercial for their new can version of 　さらり　と した　梅酒　(sarari to shita umeshu--that's what they're singing in the jingle.  Be careful--I get that jingle stuck in my head constantly):



Note:  did you see how the girl who was working hard painting got annoyed at her friend who was relaxing on the roof drinking umeshu?  See how she puffed out her cheeks?  That means "I'm mad"--that's why I sometimes write "poochy cheeks" in parentheses in posts or comments.  It means I'm mad or frustrated about something.  There are any number of Japanese gestures that are almost impossible to stop doing once you've picked them up... (but that's a post for another time...)

And the plums after you've drunk all the wine?  Mottainai!  (Don't waste)  200g of pitted plum meat, 40 g of sugar (20% of the amount of plum you're using) and 1 lemon's worth of juice boiled gently with 2-3 cups of water will make you a nice Plum Jam.  Oishiiiii....

p.s.--if you don't drink or like alcohol, you can make Ume Syrup using 500g of washed green plums and 300-500 of regular or light brown sugar layered in a glass jar with a lock down lid that vacuum seals.  This only takes 4 or 5 days (swish it around once a day)--keep the syrup in the fridge and use it up within about 2 months.  Mix it with water or seltzer or tonic--just like the Ume Shu.  Enjoy!

p.p.s.--the title of this post is a word play on "Ume" (plum) and the slang way to say "umai" (good/delicious), which comes out "umeeeeee" (final "ay" as in "day" sound drawn out for as long as you think necessary to convey the proper level of deliciousness).  You wanted to know that, right?

Healthy O-Bento: Rabbit Apples and A Trick

I keep meaning to post about things you can put in an o-bento lunch, but a combination of things (dirty kitchen...) keeps forcing these posts onto the backburner.

But a request for more food posts, an available camera-man (Koshi), and my noticing that the kitchen was relatively clean today, means that you get an o-bento post!  I'll show you the one of the very first things I learned how to make when Koshi started Yochien:  Usagi Ringo!  (Rabbit Apples)

Why bother cutting apples into shapes?  Why not just put a whole apple in the lunch bag?

Blasphemy!  This is The Land of Cute--you're not allowed to put boring apple slices into a lunch box!

The first couple of times I made these, I got the cut right, but Koshi complained that they were brown by the time lunchtime came around.  He didn't want to eat them.  What to do?  Right--ask a mommy friend.  The nice thing about living in company housing is that there are so many other moms hanging around downstairs waiting for the buses, watching their toddlers play--very easy to collar somebody and demand to know how to keep cut apples from turning brown, a feat which clearly everybody else but me had mastered.  When my friend told me how to do it, I couldn't believe I hadn't thought of it myself.

Dip the cut slices in salt water.  That's it.  Really.  You can put the slices in a ziploc or in saran wrap if you want to, but it's not necessary.  The slices will stay white and fresh (though not cold) inside a bento lunchbox as is.  In fact, a scientific experiment is in progress as I type this to prove to you how effective this stupid pet trick is--I dipped one rabbit apple in salt water, and did nothing at all to the other rabbit (apple).  Time-lapse photos are below the video:-))

To make the rabbit, cut an apple into eighths and v-cut out the core.  Turn the apple length-wise and cut a deep V, point towards the end of the slice (picture the rabbit's ears flattened back against its head), then cut off the peel starting at the other end of the slice up to the point of the V.

See the rabbit shape--ears flattened back against his head?

It's probably easier if you watch me do it:


See?  Easy!  Also, cute.  And, a reasonable amount of apple for a 3 or 4-year-old starting kindergarten--much less waste if you give her two rabbits that she eats all of instead of half an apple she takes three bites of and throws away the rest.  Desho?

The Experiment:

The apple in its nylon plastic sleeve to avoid bruising (the amount of plastic used in packaging here is horrific....)

2:52.  The apples are cut.  The apple on the left (orange plate) is the control.  The apple on the right (green plate) has been dipped in salt water.   Warm or cold water--makes no difference.  (I stirred the water with my finger.  If that fusses you, use a spoon or a chopstick.)

...an hour and twenty-three minutes after being cut...

...the control apple is starting to brown.  The saltwater apple is still white.
(Please excuse me--I'm having an insane urge to say "Relax!  It's Palmolive!"  No idea why.)

The control apple on the left is clearly starting to brown due to oxidation.  The saltwater is clearly preventing oxidation of the experimental apple on the right...
(I don't have a deep Carl Sagan voice, but you're welcome to imagine one here;-))

Below is Koshi's first O-Bento that I made--not with Usagi Ringo, because I wasn't sure yet how to fit them into his lunchbox, but with  Himawari Gohan (Sunflower Rice) and Tako-San Weiners (Octopus Sausages)... but those will have to be for next time:-))

Mata asobou, ne!

Friday Field Notes--The Mountain

Thanks to all who have been so kind as to tell me they like the header photo, which I took first thing New Year's Day hanging out the second floor bathroom window at my in-laws.  They have a spectacular view from the WC--makes me so jealous:-)).

It so happens that I took quite a few pictures of Fuji on the way down to Kawana (near Ito city, on the Izu Peninsula).

You're probably familiar with the Izu Peninsula--that's where Shimoda is, the port that was opened to trade under the Convention of Kanagawa, negotiated by Commodore Matthew Perry in 1854.  That harbor tour boat is a replica of the Susquehanna, Perry's flagship (the "Black Ships" that symbolized Western technology to the Japanese).  Shimoda is also where the first American consulate was opened.

But that's on down a ways from Kawana, which is more in the middle of the peninsula.  Earthquakes, hot springs, and fantastic views of Mt. Fuji--the Izu Peninsula is a popular tourist destination (Japanese tourists, anyway).  Actually, Fuji can be seen (on a clear day) as far away as Chiba (the prefecture east of Tokyo, where Narita airport is, which is to say...BFE).

We can't see it from our apartment, but if  we walk up the old highway, the "Tokaido"








(the East Sea Road, that's what those three Kanji mean on the road sign, the old road traveled by the Daimyo back and forth from old Edo to Kyoto to pay fealty to the emporer), goes uphill a bit....

...turn at the kaiten sushi place and wind around the road...

The Mountain.

...with the shadow of a cloud, a periwinkle stain on the snow.

Those photos were taken on January 2, since we were up the road watching the Hakone Ekiden--a two day collegiate relay marathon where the runners run in five stages  on the second from Tokyo down to Hakone, and back on the third in five stages from Hakone to Tokyo (20-23km per stage).  They come running right by us--very exciting with everyone shouting "Gambare!" to each runner as they pass by.

Here comes the front runner (Waseda University, the eventual winner--this marathon is 20 university teams of 10 runners each competing):


Fuji is so huge, it's visible from very far away--as far away as Chiba, as I mentioned above.  It's also such an iconic image, that sometimes when I look at it, I can hardly believe I'm actually looking at the real mountain.

...especially when I'm on the train, and I look up--oooh!  There it is!  It always makes me catch my breath to look up and see Fuji looming behind the lesser mountains.

 ...except I'm the only one looking.
I don't usually take pictures; I just look surreptitiously, wondering why nobody else ever looks at it (train manners, I suspect).

But on the way down to Kawana, it was such a beautiful, clear day, I took pictures anyway.

 What a tourist :-))

Look closely at this photo and the header--you can tell how much the train curves around south and west from the Shonan area (between Yokohama and Odawara) going down to Ito by the crater on the side.  See it?

The train stopped, and I got a nice clear shot of the summit while the doors were open.

When we got to O-Baasan's house, I ran right upstairs to look out the bathroom window.

 The summit was slightly obscured by clouds...





...the Weather forms over Fuji, and spreads out over the surrounding plain...

At dusk I took a couple of last shots for 2010--Evening Fuji.  You can see snow blowing off the side of the mountain--nobody climbs for fun this time of year...

I've been up there--see that bump on the summit?  I climbed up there overnight, in the dark and damp cold for my thirtieth birthday.  I reached the top on August 2 at 7am.  It was 4 degrees Celsius on top of the mountain, and so windy people had to stop and hunker down to keep from being blown off the mountain by the wind.  It was drizzling cold rain--no sunrise, what I had hoped to see for my first major zero birthday.

It was so cold that I went into the tiny hut where you could get udon to eat, just to warm up a little.  Everyone else had the same idea.  There was only one seat available, and I sat down next to a quiet-looking Japanese man.  He noticed my noodles had come, and called the girl over.  I thanked him, and he waved my thanks aside and asked in schoolboy English where I was from.  I told him America; he mentioned his friend he'd climbed with had lived in Australia for many years.  He asked me who I'd climbed with and was shocked, shocked, to find out I'd climbed alone.  Then he smiled and asked if I wanted to climb down with him and his friend.

I did.

"Fuji San Cho Jou" (Mt Fuji Summit, on the marker behind us)

It was the smile.  That's me in the middle, my husband is on the left.  We met that day, on top of the Mountain.  By the time we got to the bottom of the mountain, I was a goner.  Especially when, sitting next to me on the fence, he took off his sweaty shirt.

What *do* you take me for?   Of course I looked.  He was in training at the time to take the boxing professional test.  Oh. My. Goodness. 

December 26th, 2010, was our eleventh anniversary.  Now you know why I can't help but look when I see the Mountain.

Happy Anniversary, sweetie. Best birthday ever. :-))

On Design-- The Magic Toilets of Japan

When O-Jiisan and O-Baasan (grandpa and grandma) had a new house built a year and a half ago, naturally it was outfitted with the latest in Japanese toilet technology.  Heated toilet seats have been around for a while (I seem to recall Madonna mentioning how taken she was by the heated toilet seats the last time she was on tour here), but lately the lid goes up automatically as you enter the WC.  The heated seat thing is basically a good thing, I think--and it certainly makes sense in a country where homes are not centrally heated.  Allow me to assure you that toilet seats in an unheated part of the house in January are... cold.  That's in italics because it looks more shivery than bold. 

Here's the Magic Toilet (which, I noticed on YouTube, apparently everybody who comes to Japan videos and sticks on YouTube, and I have now unknowingly joined the stampede):


The lights in the WC at my in-laws are also on motion-sensor, so at night they come on automatically when you walk in and go out after you do.  This seems like good design--surely it must save electricity if the toilet light is never accidentally left on.  Right?  Well, probably.  But the first time we went down to Kawana to visit them in the new house, Teddy (of course) went to the toilet at bedtime.  Teddy, being Teddy, was in and out of the Magic Toilet all day, watching that lid go up, and so he just had to make one last visit to ToiletLand before bed.  Except it was dark, and the motion-sensor light system was on. 

Five minutes later, the most frightening, bloodcurdling screams imaginable from the WC.  We all raced to the door--which he had locked.  "Teddy!  Teddy!   Are you alright?!" I shouted helplessly at the door, picturing aliens bursting from my son's stomach.

"Ku-ra-iiiii...." came the crying, trembling reply.  Dark.  He had sat so still on the toilet, that the motion sensors assumed no one was in the room, and out went the lights.  And Teddy was too scared to move, so they didn't come back on when he started screaming.  The sound shock waves weren't enough to turn the lights back on, apparently. 

"Move, Teddy!  Wave your hands around!  The lights will come back on if you move around!"  Since, of course, he couldn't unlock the door in the dark and he was sitting frozen to the toilet seat in fear, this was all we could do to help him help himself get the lights on.

And you'll be relieved to know, I'm sure, that Teddy is now a healthy second-grader, and seems not to have been permanently traumatized by the event.

Moral:  The people who designed the motion-sensor lights forgot about the people with constipation.

Mata asobou, ne!

Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimasu!

(ah-kay-mah-sh-tay oh-may-day-toh-u  go-zah-ee-mah-su)

Happy New Year!  2011--The Year Of The Rabbit!

Sorry for the rather long blog break--we went to the in-laws for New Year's and I've had a houseful of kids since we got back...
The thing that always kills me about Christmas/New Year's in Japan is the transition from one to the other--Christmas stuff is out 'til December 25...and disappears overnight.  By December 26, there's not a hint of Christmas in any store and every decoration has been changed over to O-Shogatsu (New Year).

Shi-Shi-Mai (dragons) and plum blossoms and bamboo and
pine...

...everybody puts red and white decorations of pine and rice straw and paper on doors.  Kadomatsu (corner pines) go on either side of the door or gate (note the echo of Christmas--evidence of Christmas' borrowing of far older pagan traditions...)

As I said, we went to visit O-Jiisan and O-Baasan (grandpa and grandma) for New Year's.  Usually we sit around eating mikan and watching TV and watch the bell ringing at various temples that way.  This year, though, I convinced my father-in-law to take my husband and me (too late for the kids) out at midnight for Hatsumode (First Praying At The Shrine/Temple--really these words are nearly impossible to translate).  I took the camera along planning to video the temple monk ringing the bell.

 The Temple at Kawana, Izu Peninsula

The Big Bell

No clapper--you use the log to ring the bell

We went to see which temple would be ringing its bell that night, and found that the temple down on the waterfront would be ringing in the new year.

...they had big Kadomatsu bamboo-and-pine decorations out front--the kind you only tend to see in front of temples and department stores, not in front of private houses (too expensive ;-))  The big ones always look something like this--three pieces of bamboo cut diagonally in graduated heights stuck down in a bouquet of pine wrapped with rice straw.  I love them--my husband thinks they're boring :-))

Protective Komainu (lion-dogs) around the Big Bell

 When we got there at 11:40 that night...

...the whole place was lit up with candles set in bamboo holders, diagonally-cut pieces like the Kadomatsu.  Beautiful!


Here we are, ringing in the New Year:



Happy New Year--Have a great 2011!  Oh yeah--I made you a Nengajou (New Year's Card):

Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimasu!  Just for you:-))