Stalking the Savage Fern

(As always, click on photos for larger versions.) On a recent spectacular April morning, my friend Hiroko and her parents came to pick me up for a day of “picking up wild vegetables.” Off we headed to Mt. Eboshi. We drove up and up and UP the mountain. Hiroko leaned oer and solicitously told me to roll down my window, because "the air is much healthier up here." I was only too glad to do so, because her father's driving, coupled with the lack of guard rails (aaaaaah!) was making me very carsick!

We stopped at an uncle's house (he wasn't home) to use the toilet and pet the uncle's dog. Then Hiroko's taciturn father took me behind the house to a surprisingly dark stand of cedar trees. There were two low bars, with branches (thin logs?) about three feet long propped on either side of the bar, to make sort of an inverted V shape. We leaned close to see the various mushrooms he grows and harvests. There weren't many, but the few that were there were interesting. They said when it rains, the mushrooms spring up overnight. I wish I'd gotten a photo here.

Then we stopped on the side of the road so Hiroko’s father could show me fresh bamboo shoots, the right size for harvesting -- they are mostly underground, which I didn't realize. There were several big holes where wild boars had rooted up some shoots to eat, scattering bits and pieces everywhere.

We continued up and up and up. I was shocked to see houses here and there, with electricity and Internet and utilities. We arrived at the aunt's friend's house (the aunt is Hiroko's mother's younger sister...there are five in the family, with Hiroko's mom in the very middle, with an older brother and sister and a younger brother and sister). The friend was just darling, and the aunt was great, too. She put on a heavy velour/velvet bonnet (Little House on the Prairie style, but in velour!) with flowers all over it, parked a wide-brimmed straw hat on top, and off we went to the steep slope behind the house. There was a second, smaller house behind the first house (great landscaping, lots of rocks and TONS of flowers everywhere!) The second, smaller house had a very tall fence around it, with barbed wire at the top. I looked, and realized there were five cat faces at the window. Turns out the woman built the house, complete with beds and those tables with the quilts and heating elements underneath, for her seventeen CATS! The smell...oh my, the smell...was just horrific. I can't imagine how bad it would be when it gets hot!

I wore my sneakers, but I should have worn hiking boots. Next time, I’ll know. We went out back, climbing up a slope, then down. We were walking on matted down briars and brambles and dead ferns, with wild boar holes everywhere. The footing was not good at all. Hiroko was of course being very solicitous of me, pointing out ferns for me to pick. I finally got exasperated with her and told her to go pick her own! Her parents and aunt ranged all over the slope, like little old mountain goats, climbing over rocks and brambles.

We were picking the long stems and uncurling fronds of a kind of fern. They weren't what I’d always thought of as fiddlehead ferns...they were long stems like asparagus, with a white bloom/dust on them that wiped off when we touched them. At the end of each asparagus-like stem were one, two or three little tiny tightly curled fists of fern fronds. When Hiroko looked up the name in her electronic dictionary, it just said they were “bracken” – in Japanese, warabi (蕨 / わらび). To prepare, they are soaked in water with baking soda, then boiled and served with soy sauce.

Hiroko's mom also picked some BIG fern buds (I know they are not buds, but that's what they seem like) which were more like what I think of as fiddleheads, but these were very big, bigger than golf balls, but not quite as big as a tennis ball. The bud things were very heavy for their size, and bright green under a thick, woolly/cottony coating. There was such a lot of cottony coating it looked like someone was wrapping them to pack them up! I took photos, of course, but not while we were picking. I was trying not to break my neck! In Japanese, these are called kogomi (こごみ)… I think. I’m not sure.

We also harvested a bunch of things that looked like great big lotus leaves or lily pads, with long thick red and green stems. They looked like pale rhubarb, but were not. They’re called “butterbur” – in Japanese, fuki (菜蕗/ふき) – and they are a member of the daisy family. Hiroko’s family strips off and discards the fat leaves, abrades and scrubs the stems with salt, peels them like one peels celery of its strings, then boils them – a technique known as itazuri, or “removing harshness.” When I looked up butterbur online, I found that it has medicinal properties. Butterbur is supposedly very effective against migraines and asthma, and was used by Native Americans as a remedy for headache and inflammation. It’s also known as “sweet coltsfoot” and “bog rhubarb”, so maybe my rhubarb comparison was not so far off?

After picking for an hour or two, we all sat down on the matted brambles, just *plop* right there, and had plastic bottles of cold, nutty-tasting tea, our sweat drying in the cool mountain breeze. After our tea break, we made our way back to the house with our loot. My bag was the lightest, since my bad knees simply didn’t allow me to go bounding all over the hillside. We took our leave, walking up the very steep driveway with many exhortations from the aunt's friend to come visit again.

Then we went to the aunt's house, which Hiroko and family had never visited. The aunt married a carpenter, and they had four boys. They were very poor at first, and she worked her fingers to the bone, doing mother/wife things all day, then doing carpentry work beside her husband at night (unheard of, both for a woman to do carpentry, and for them to do it at night!) But they made money and slowly built a good business. A few years ago, they finally gave up their teeny house and decided to build from scratch. So, we got to see the gorgeous home they built together. It was amazing...huge lava rocks (from when Mt. Eboshi was a volcano) created rough, “natural-looking” terraces, with flowers everywhere...huge doors were thrown wide to the mountain breezes...shining slabs of satiny wood were everywhere. The construction was fascinating. The steps where one takes off one's shoes are made of two huge thick slabs of a single tree. Another giant slab of a tree is in the entry way. The beams are incredible.

We had green tea in a beautiful, serene tatami room, where the aunt showed off the seven lucky gods her husband carved for her, as well as their family altar, obviously much used. There was a big wooden...thing....on a shelf, with a wheel with a groove in it, and thread or string wrapped around the wheel. I asked what it was, trying to figure out if it was a spinning wheel or what? It was a very large rounded boat or shoe shape. There were turtles carved standing on part of it, and the fattest part had a crane with wings outstretched. Finally I figured it out. It was a chalk line!

There was an ivory (or bone or plastic) knob with a sharp metal point at the end of the string. One puts the point into the wood, then walks along, paying out the string. The string passes through the fat part of the boat/shoe, which has fabric stuffed in it, impregnated with a black ink stuff that is water soluble. One moistens the wadded fabric just slightly, and the string picks up the ink stuff. Then one spins the wheel to return the string inside the thing. I was obviously fascinated, especially once I knew what it was. Hiroko’s aunt laughed and explained that the big one was decorative, because it was so large. I was disappointed, until she ran out and came back with a smaller version, obviously well-used, and proceeded to demonstrate. She then gave me two of them, a larger and a smaller! They're both used, and of course everyone was saying "oh, you don't want these, you want to buy new ones!" but I said "oh no, I love these...and my father and stepfather will appreciate the fact that they are well used and well loved!!"

She told me I should come back in August to escape the heat in the city. I told her I wanted to move in today -- but first I had to ask, "Do you have Internet?" She said yes, and then had to show me that she had better than Internet...she had a karaoke machine, with a ton of laser disks! Of course, she does not speak English, but Hiroko interpreted, and it's amazing how much one can understand simply with body language and charades. I told her I was definitely moving in, and she laughed and said that was fine, if I would teach her grandchildren English!

We sat around the table, and drank green tea, and peeled and ate oranges I'd never seen before...they are yellow, not orange, and milder than regular oranges, not quite as sweet, and nowhere near as acid, and very fragrant. I thought they were squat lemons when I first saw them. They’re called haruka, which means “far away” in Japanese. Hiroko didn’t know why they were named “far away” – I wish I knew!

Before we headed back to Sasebo for a late lunch, Hiroko and her parents drove me to the very top of Mt. Eboshi, to the lookout. Unfortunately, it was a very hazy day, so the view wasn't great. But there were several hawks, and some signs showing various flowers and various birds to look out for, including one tiny, fluffy little bird the color of the inside of a kiwi fruit.

There was a giant field, with lava rocks just sort of tossed out all over it. I wondered if it was supposed to be a Zen garden, but it was all short grass and not sand, and far more expansive than the Zen gardens I've seen. Then I thought maybe it was supposed to represent the constellations, because there was a big plaque showing the constellations of the summer sky. Hiroko said it was just a park. Who knows? One thing that shocked me -- there was a city bus, just sitting by the side of the road, with the driver reading a book! Hiroko said the city bus comes all the way up to the top of the mountain, up those insane, steep, curvy roads, three or four times a day! So there are lots of people who live way up on the mountain, in relative isolation, but they have utilities and bus service to Sasebo (which is at the foot of the mountain) so nobody is isolated, even without a car.

I received quite an honor -- I was invited to come up the mountain at Obon for the ceremony for Hiroko's uncle, who passed away earlier this year. The first Obon festival after a person dies is the most important. Lamps are hung and lit, and food is put out for three days. The lamps light the ancestor's way home for a visit. Then at the end, the ships are built for anyone who has died during the year, to help the deceased find their way to the spirit world (and keep him or her from haunting the family!) A big ceremony is held, then the ship is taken to the center of town, with fireworks along the way to scare away bad spirits, and much shaking and rocking of the ship to shake off bad spirits...I participated in a small way with Eriko's ship (she works for the base and I wrote about last year's Obon with her and other folks from the base). But this will be much bigger, more solemn, and more…authentic, somehow. I’m really honored to be invited.

After we got back to Sasebo, we headed to a local hotel with an organic, mostly vegetarian Japanese buffet (Hiroko and her family are macrobiotic vegan). I enjoyed several different spring dishes, especially burdock root (gobo in Japanese) in various preparations. Gobo are long, thin carrot-like taproots, with lots of tiny rootlets sticking out. They have brown skin, and cream-colored insides, are much thinner than carrots, and MUCH longer. I also found out that konnyaku, that greyish gelatin-like stuff that is used in many dishes here (I don't like the chunks, but I love the noodles they make from it!) is made from devil's tongue starch. Although I knew that, I had no idea that devil's tongue was the same thing as Jack-in-the-Pulpit! Konnyaku has very little flavor, and can be made in a lot of shapes...and has zero calories and a lot of fiber.

A couple of days after our wild edibles adventure, Hiroko brought me various dishes her mother had made with the butterbur, the young bamboo shoots, and the bracken stems (no big fat fiddleheads, though). All three were savory, slightly sweet, and utterly delicious – the more so, I think, because I got to participate in the “harvesting” of the tender stalks!

Omedetou Gozaimasu

Happy New Year… Happy Year of the Ox… Omedetou gozaimasu! Wishing you all peace, health and joy in the New Year. (Yes, I began this in January, but since the Chinese New Year was just a couple of days ago, let’s pretend, shall we?)

Fearless Husband came home from deployment at the beginning of December, so we were able to have Christmas and New Year’s together (hurray!) Between Christmas and New Year’s, my friend Hiroko took me to a little neighborhood shopping area to get some wagyu beef (what Americans refer to as Kobe, but this was from Hirado Island) for FH. Before buying the beef, we walked around, peering into the little shops lining the road. One shop was the smallest I think I’ve ever seen. I’ve had bigger closets! A teeny, tiny old lady with radiant skin and a lovely smile sat inside, surrounded by bottles of a golden oil, and pamphlets with photos of camellia flowers. Turns out the oil was camellia oil! It’s supposedly very good for both the skin and the hair, and can even be used for cooking! The little old lady was quite a good advertisement for her own product..her skin was that of a woman MUCH younger, though she was in her 80s!

We window-shopped (or would that be awning-shopped, when there are no windows?) our way through kitchenwares, fish so fresh it was still flapping, gorgeous vegetables and jewel-like fruit, organic chicken, various homemade condiments, and more. I ended up with some fresh yuzu-koshou (a paste of yuzu rind – a very aromatic citrus fruit – chilies and salt that’s delicious on fresh tofu), the prettiest turnips I’ve ever seen, a packet of sweet potato mochi, a bamboo spatula/spoon, several skeins of yarn from another teensy shop basically lined floor to ceiling with brightly colored balls of yarn, some traditional Japanese New Year decorations, and of course, FH's beef.

The butcher shop was on a corner, as such shops often are, and the shop itself was open to the outside air – no windows, no door. There were refrigerated display cases filled with meats, but Hiroko ignored it all. Instead, she spoke at length to the butcher, who then straightened his apron and disappeared into the back. A minute later, he emerged, carrying a chunk of beef as if it was a velvet cushion holding the crown of the realm or something. He walked slowly, with dignity and reverence, presenting the piece of meat as if waiting for me to admire his newborn son. I’ve never seen a butcher so proud of his own product! More negotiation, in English and Japanese, about how much of the beef I wanted (though money was NEVER mentioned, not once – I guess if you have to ask, you can’t afford it!) and then the “baby” was transferred to the cutting table.

The butcher laid out three different knives, and proceeded to lovingly separate the smaller chunk I’d indicated, then very carefully trim all the exterior fat, inspecting it and turning it and basically making a big production out of the whole thing. Yes, he used all three knives. The meat was then weighed (he was careful to point out that I was paying only for what we’d be eating, not for the trimmings!), then the chunk was carefully wrapped in a flexible, paper-thin piece of wood (yes, wood!), then white paper over that, then more white paper, then finally the swaddled bundle was put into a bag for me and placed on the counter *just* out of my reach.

Oh, right. Gotta pay for it. *gulp* Imagine an eye of round roast just over a pound and a quarter, but prettier and marbled to such an extent that it looks like a mosaic on the cut end. Now imagine paying $35 for it. Now imagine being absolutely thrilled at the incredible deal you just got! Ok, enough about the beef. Suffice to say I cooked it with nothing else but a bare sprinkling of salt, stretched it to serve the two of us for three meals, and was the most amazing, tender, savory beef either of us have ever eaten. Ever. In our entire lives. Period.

I also bought a traditional Japanese New Year’s decoration(shimekazari, which I can’t believe I forgot to photograph!), to go over our front door. It’s a fat, heavy twist of rice straw, with two sprays of rice straw sticking down to either side, a little fountain of rice kernels on their stem in the middle, various bits of folded and rolled special paper, and a sour orange skewered in the center. Most of the houses in our neighborhood already had similar decorations, and Hiroko encouraged me to get one, too.

Hiroko explained further about the various New Year decorations:

“As for the door decoration, we decorate today until 7th or 10th of January when depends on the area or family. Please do not decorate tomorrow (the 31st). Since this is the pray to gods for the new year, we don't decorate on 31st of December. Gods may think that we haven't prepared enough for gods. You'll see the twisted straw of rice stem at the shrine and the paper. Rice is Japanese main food and we pray for good or better harvest for the new year to the god using rice stem straw and the twisted means pray. When we pray something, we sometimes twist something such as a small sheet of paper which we call Koyori or O-hineri (which includes money inside). The paper means gods. The orange, which we call daidai, shows to refresh for new year and another words play that daidai term itself means from generation to generation. Dai means one generation. Daidai orange juice can be eaten with fish or scallop etc. As a whole the decoration shows the pray to gods for the better harvest and prosperity. Please hang above and middle of the entrance door not on the entrance door. Probably your next neighbors will hang today. We will burn it 7th or 10th of January and we say the smoke will avoid decease the rest of the year.

In the Japanese guest room there is alcove which we call Toko-no-ma. I saw you had one at your home. We decorate a several things to pretend for gods to eat. They are 2 double omochi (smooth, chewy cakes made from pounded sticky rice), orange, dried squid, dried persimmon, yuzuri-ha (a kind of evergreen shrub) which means generation change, i.e. prosperity, because a yuzui-ha leaf falls down when a next new leaf grows up, on urajiro (a kind of fern) which is just like words play as ura means backside and jiro means white, accordingly urajiro means that we show gods that we have nothing bad to hide. Japanese men tends not to do housework but the above decorations are for the work of a father. Even my father is willing to do.

I forgot to tell you about the leaves that my mother gave you. They were called "Sen ryo." Sen means million and ryo is old Japanese currency unit in Edo period. At the beginning of the year we pray so many wishes such as happiness, prosperity, longevity, peace, richness etc. For each wish, we have each god and each shrine. For each wish, we eat the represented things as osechi and display the ornament. Sen ryo mean that we pray for millionaire.”

New Year’s eve itself was pretty quiet – we stayed in, and listened as various solemn processions wound through the streets throughout the night, ringing a gong or clacking some sort of wooden clapper as they chanted and walked. At midnight, temple bells all over Japan rang 108 times, to release people from the “108 worldly sins.”

The morning of January 1, many Japanese get up very early to watch the first sunrise of the new year…this is considered a harbinger of the year to come, and one is supposed to be at peace, with a smile, to watch the sun rise. Unfortunately, we couldn’t see the sun rising here in Sasebo. Instead, we had fat flakes of snow!

In the afternoon, FH and I were invited to join my friend Morinaga-san at her house for a traditional Japanese New Year’s meal. There was another American couple there, as well as Morinaga's sister and daughter (we met Morinaga's mother on the way out of the warren of houses/rooms...she was sitting in a kitchen of another house, watching TV by herself and grinning. She may be slightly demented, or just happy to be alone, not sure!)

We had special sacred sake, poured into special sake saucers (the large one had Mt. Fuji painted/embossed in gold into the red lacquerware, the medium-sized one had a hawk, and the small one had an eggplant -- all traditional decorations for the various sizes). One by one, we each were served the special sake in our choice of the three dishes. We were to sip it three times, finishing the sake on the third sip. After drinking, we were given a tiny handful of dried squid (though I don't remember the meaning). There was a solemnity to the ritual, and it made me think of Holy Communion.

On the table were plates and plates of food (Chinese cooked pork, fresh mackerel sashimi, knots of savory seaweed, slabs of omelet and slices of ham, etc.) as well as the traditional osechi -- special large wooden divided boxes of very beautiful New Year's foods, each with its own meaning for the New Year (good fortune, money, happiness, fertility, etc.) Traditionally, nobody cooks on January 1, 2 and 3, so the three-layer boxes are all foods that will last. There were all sorts of things, from black beans decorated with gold leaf, to sea cucumber (neither of us liked that AT ALL, but of course had to eat it, as it was fancy and very, very expensive) to tiny carved squashes and pretty fish paste shapes. Champagne was served as well, and the other American couple brought brownies and vegetables with spinach dip. I felt bad that I hadn't contributed to the feast, but luckily, I'd brought gifts for Morinaga-san and her daughter, and a fancy bottle of French wine (regifting what the architect and his wife next door gave us!) and a container of homemade candies. The candies were the insanely simple ones... small pretzels with a Rolo chocolate-and-caramel candy put on top, the whole thing popped in the oven for three minutes, then a toasted pecan half pushed into the Rolo to make it smoosh down on the pretzel. VERY easy, and surprisingly delicious, like a chocolate/caramel/pecan turtle, but with the salty crunch of the pretzel. Luckily, the candies were a HUGE hit, and everyone ate them all up and argued over the last few.

On the way out, through the warren of the three homes perched on the hillside (all owned by Morinaga-san, or possibly communally owned by the women of the family), Morinaga-san pointed out a single tatami room with a fancy lacquerware altar. She said it was the family altar to their ancestors, and they all prayed there every single morning. That was fascinating to me, as I had not thought of Morinaga-san, with her girlish curled ponytail and blue eye-shadow and talk of "fashion" as a particularly spiritual person. Teach me not to judge!

Over Christmas, FH and I enjoyed Norwegian meatballs and Norwegian Christmas cookies (thank you, Grandma!) from his family traditions. We spent our New Year’s morning quietly together, and had my family’s traditional New Year’s collard greens, black-eyed peas and ham for lunch. At Morinaga-san’s house that afternoon, we sat on tatami mats, with sliding rice-paper doors on two sides, and a painted scroll of cranes hanging in the special alcove, over the ancestor/God offerings of mochi and oranges and shiny wire decorations. It was pretty wonderful to sit in that beautiful and very foreign room, beside my familiar husband, making new Japanese and American friends, at a table covered with food from both cultures, with conversation and laughter flying. What a great way to start the New Year!

I Resolve...

...to post more often to this poor, neglected blog! Yes, I've been having adventures -- amazing, wonderful travel and experiences! I've taken a zillion photos, and have tons of notes, so I can blog about everything. But every time I sit down to write, another adventure pops up, or Fearless Husband comes home (and he does become Priority One!) or family and friends come to visit and adventure with me...whew!

But for all two readers out there, 2009 will bring more posts from me. Pinkie swear.

Silent Auction of Japanese "Sweetness"

**We have a winner!** Thanks to carliches for a winning bid of $45! Carliches, please e-mail me at carolie (at) wordmagix (dot) com and attach a copy of your paypal donation receipt. We can discuss what kind of bento you'd like, and then I'll send out your Japanese goodies. Thank you all for participating! (And anyone interested in Japanese candy or bento, please feel free to e-mail, and I'd be happy to work something out for you -- no profit to me, of course!) Please check out other auctions, still going on, by visiting Design Mom's blog.

Every day, wonderful things happen on this planet. And every day, tragedies happen. We can't stop either one. But we often have the opportunity to make a difference, even if it's a small one. Here's a chance for me -- and by extension, a chance for you -- to make one small difference.

A small private plane crashed in Utah on August 16, 2008, seriously injuring a young married couple. They're both in the hospital (and will be for quite some time). Their four small children are with relatives for the moment. Their medical bills will be HUGE. You can read more about the Nie family here. Click on the "about Nie" link on the banner to read what happened.

Here's the helping part. Across the Internet, auctions are being held to benefit the Nie family. For my silent auction contribution, I'm offering a Japanese "Sweetness" (and more!) package, shipped directly to you from Sasebo, Japan (click on each photo for a larger image.) Included in the package will be:

• A small Hello Kitty plushie for a keychain or for hanging from a schoolbag or handbag -- she's dressed in a panda bear costume and holds a pink heart
• Two boxes of Pocky (chocolate and strawberry-dipped cookie/pretzel sticks)
• One box of Toppo (thin cookie sticks filled with green tea cheesecake cream)
• Panda bear cookies with white and milk chocolate
• A smll bottle of shoyu, aka soy sauce, especially for sashimi/sushi (this ain't Kikkoman's!)
• A packe of toasted white sesame seeds, great for baking, or for grinding over noodles
• A packet of toasted black sesame seeds, ditto
• Spicy rice crackers with peanuts
• Lychee hard candies (with a magic "cool" center!)
• Green tea hard candies
• Peach hard candies
• A box of "do it yourself fondant", with four colored soft candies and a little wooden tool so you (or your kids) can make adorable shapes and squeal at all the cuteness before eating it all up (this is not a cake decorating kit, it's an interactive candy)
• An oshibori (handcloth) to pack with any bento or lunchbox (moisten the cloth, tuck it in the little carrying case, use it to wipe hands before lunchtime -- much better for the environment than paper napkins or wet-wipes!)
• The most darling little bear heads, used to protect and decorate cherry tomatoes, hard-boiled eggs, whatever you want to cute-i-fy in your lunch!
• SPECIAL BONUS! I will select and include a small, two-tiered bento box, perfect for lunch for you or your child! The winning bidder will be able to choose from plain (green, pink, blue, silver, black, faux wood), decorated (bunnies, flowers, bees, etc.) or character (Dragonball-Z, Hello Kitty, Cinnamaroll, etc.)
• Retail value of the package: approximately $40-60, depending on the bento box selected -- bidding to begin at $20

To quote DesignMom, who is heading up all this auction wonderfulness:

I'm hoping people are in a public radio mindset. Like when you hear the NPR commentators say: "pledge your membership of only $75.00 and we'll send you this canvas tote bag with our logo on it." You know the tote bag is worth maybe $5. But it's not about that. You're looking for a way to be generous and supportive. And the tote bag is just a bonus.

Please visit DesignMom's site for more auctions!

How this silent auction works:

1. Please place your bid by leaving a comment with your bid amount in the comments section. Check the comments to see the most recent high bid.
2. Following the close of the auction,
• I will contact the winner (make sure your comment bid includes an e-mail address or link to your blog or some way to contact you).
• The winner will pay the amount of their winning bid to the Stephanie and Christian PayPal account.
• The winner will then forward the PayPal receipt to me at carolie@wordmagix.com.
• I will send your package (I'll pay the postage!)
3. Please bid in increments of whole dollars. The auction will end at midnight EST on Friday, September 5, 2008.
4. Thank you for participating!

Lighting the Way Home

Here is another vignette from our lives here in Japan. There is so much more to tell you, but not enough time to tell it in! More to come, of course. Please forgive the blurry photos, as I was dealing with the dark, and my camera was NOT behaving. (Of course, I felt flash photography would not be appropriate in the least!) As always, click on the photos for larger images.

Last summer, when we got back to Japan after Annette's funeral, my Japanese friend Miyuki felt it was imperative to take Fearless Husband to the Obon festival. She was very serious about it, and insisted that we join her. For three days every summer, the Japanese believe the spirits of family and friends who have passed on come to visit for a time, especially those who have departed in the past year. In other parts of Japan, Obon is in July, but in a few towns, Sasebo included, Obon is always in August.

Family members put out special sugar cakes molded into beautiful flower shapes, rice cakes, various fruits, and liquor for the visiting spirits. On the third night, there is a HUGE festival downtown. One particular part of the festival is specific to Nagasaki prefecture (of which we are a part) and is a tradition that comes from China. One may pay a token amount to purchase a paper lantern to honor the spirit of the deceased. The lanterns are square, and delicate, in white and yellow and pink with lotus flower blossoms and messages for world peace printed on them.

One buys a lantern, writes messages to the departed on the lantern (in past days, I'm sure elegant calligraphy brushes were used, but in this case, there was a multitude of Sharpies available). The lantern is handed to the first in a line of twelve Buddhist monk apprentices in black pants, white dress shirts and sober ties, lined up on a floating dock that juts out into the river. The apprentices pass the lantern down the line, and the last man in line carefully sets the lantern onto the river to float away to the nearby ocean, using a long pole to ensure they don't clump up, or drift back to shore. The view of hundreds and hundreds of flickering paper lanterns drifting down the winding river to the sea in the gathering darkness is both poignant and beautiful.

Miyuki purchased a lantern for Annette, as her tribute to the mother of her friend, and FH wrote messages to his mother before handing it to the acolytes to set adrift. We stood together, watching the lantern join hundreds of others on its journey to the sea, and I think we both felt a sense of closure within our sorrow. We watched until Annette's lantern was out of sight.

Many of the Japanese around us were dressed in traditional kimono, including the children. Others were in very casual clothes. There is sorrow, and some people and children are quietly crying as they prepare their lanterns...others are purchasing and eating street food like chicken skewers, squid-on-a-stick, roasted ears of corn, and snow-cones from the various vendors lined up along the riverside, and laughter drifts through the crowds. It's a celebration of both life and death, of honoring family, and of letting go. For many, it seems to bring closure -- a final goodbye.

After the lanterns are set afloat, people make their way to the main streets, to watch the "floats" go by. The floats are large platforms carried by teams of men and women in matching happi coats, with a roofed structure on top, and many large lanterns hanging under the roof. From what I understood at the time, most of the floats are specifically dedicated to the owners of various corporations who have passed away in the past year (or years?), and the bearers are workers from the companies. Glittering signs are carried on poles to escort each float, and Miyuki told us the signs specify the name of the company. She explained that years ago, the wealthy and powerful (the elite, the movers and shakers, etc.) were able to pay for such tribute, but now only corporations can afford to have the floats and bearers, signs and fireworks. Each float is carried (sometimes for miles) through the streets of Sasebo, to come together in a large municipal sports field next to the city library.

There, under brilliant floodlights (think night baseball game), each incredibly heavy platform is brought to the center, one at a time, and then jerked and turned and "danced" in circles as the teams shout and yell, firecrackers explode and columns of heavy smoke rise to the skies. This supposedly scares away any evil spirits who might be hanging around the spirit of the executive. The various teams vie to dance the fastest, shake their float the hardest, and make the most noise. A small but steady stream of townspeople come, each delivering a football-shaped straw package containing the various offerings (rice cakes, fruits, etc.) that have been sitting out for three days for the ancestral spirits. The pile of straw bundles grows and grows, to epic proportions as each family brings their offerings. These "footballs" will be burned in a HUGE bonfire after the event itself, to send the offerings up in smoke to heaven, carrying the offerings back to the spirit world.

As one enters the field, whether carrying a float, bearing a straw bundle, or just coming to see the spectacle, one may stop at a white tent canopy with roof and three walls, to pray. Under the canopy are many bouquets of flowers and various offerings, and a lovely statue of Buddha. Three priests kneel and bow, chanting and swaying without cease, and the public may pause outside the encircling fence to pray and to light incense and candles and place them in the sand-filled troughs on the fence top.

Though the entire thing was very foreign to our eyes, it was also very beautiful. There was a sense of kinship, of universal humanity as people recognized the inevitability of death, the pain of loss, the joy of living, and the hope of the world to come.

More Teasing, But This Time From Taiwan

I am a terrible blogger, so busy having adventures that I'm not writing about them! I'm dreadfully behind, I know. But this time, I'm so full to the brim with the most amazing experiences, I will explode if I don't share them!

So...with a solemn promise of many, many words to come, here are a few photos from my current visit to Tainan, Taiwan. As usual, click on the image for a large version.

Fresh tropical fruit juices are made and sold at the open air fish market, just off the beach. The fruit that contains the seeds you see in the jugs has a Chinese name which means "fruit with the good-tasting aroma" -- and honestly, celestial ambrosia couldn't be better than this exquisitely perfumed drink!

When you walk down the alley of this little village outside of Tainan, you see racing pigeon coops, mango trees, shanties and sheds and motor scooters. Then, you come around the corner, and voila, there's the neighborhood Taoist temple. I've never seen anything quite so ornate.

My hosts insisted I try the little spiral-shelled crustaceans piled into plates at the same fish market, cooked with various degrees of spiciness. You pick up the shell, put it to your lips and suck twice, hard, with noise, to slurp out the little creature inside (yes, I ate it, and yes it was good -- but I chose the spiciest plate, so the hot chiles would help if I didn't like the creature's taste!)

More soon, I promise...

(And for those of you following news of Cyclone Nargis and the Myanmar victims, Fearless Husband's ship is finally leaving the area, after almost a month of waiting just offshore with water, food and other supplies. It's a shame that they have not been able to help, and the Sailors and Marines are disappointed not to have been of service. But the silver lining is that they are headed home!)

Remembering, Honoring and Thanking Them

Today is Memorial Day, a day to remember all our fallen service men and women, those who have served, and those who serve today. I think it's even more than just thinking of them -- I think this is a day to be grateful, and to express that gratitude.

I'm a dyed-in-the-wool, pacifist, peacenik. I abhor the violence of war. But I am quite conscious of the fact that the Bill of Rights and the Constitution that allow me to express these feelings are only possible through the sacrifice of those in the US Military. I am deeply grateful to those who have served our country, and to those in service right now.

If you'd asked me before I met Fearless Husband if I could see myself married to someone in the military, I would have fallen over laughing. But that was then, and this is now. This is for Fearless Husband.

Thank you for your service. For being an American Sailor, with all that entails.

Thank you for having the courage and the determination and the endurance to float around inside a big, hot, iron box in the middle of the ocean. For knowing that at any moment, you could be sent somewhere dangerous, or be in danger where you are, but doing it anyway. For putting up with the crap and the bureaucracy and the uniforms and the goobers who shouldn’t have been promoted, but were.

Thank you for following the rules, for standing tall, for barking out “yes, Chief!” and “yes, sir!” even those times when you must have felt like saying “up yours!” instead. For dealing with mountains of paperwork, even when you knew it would just mean more mountains of contradictory paperwork when someone changed the rules.

Thank you for being a leader, even when it just feels like thankless middle management. For taking care of your Junior Sailors regardless of their ingratitude and poor attitudes. For doing your best for them, even when you know that some of them will blow any opportunities you give them, and some of them will take all the credit for any advancements, but blame you for any setbacks. For caring enough to speak out and work against injustice and bigotry, even when it might harm your own career plans.

Thank you for giving your time, your thoughts, your energy, your courage, your dedication and your body in service to the United States of America.

You are appreciated.

And you are loved.

I'd Like to Thank the Academy...

Lookit what I got! I actually received the award for a post I wrote over two years ago about Japanese garbage collection and disposal, oddly enough. It wasn't even a post with photos.

I was shocked, and surprised, and all-out-of-proportion excited to receive this award...and grateful. Very grateful.

Do visit The Rising Blogger by clicking on the image, and check out some of the other recipents. I'm in awfully good company!

You like me! You really like me! (Hee hee hee, I couldn't resist!)

Just a Tease...

I know, I'm so far behind it seems that I'll never catch up. But -- I've taken notes and photos, and I have so much to share! I'll try to find some time to get my photos, notes and thoughts in order and put some content up here.

In the meantime, here's a little taste for you...a closeup of one of the many, many dishes served at the beautiful spring-themed kaiseki meal I attended with Fearless Husband, Dad, and The World's Best Stepmother.

Behold, a salmon, grapefruit, avocado and daikon salad topped with salmon roe and yes -- edible gold leaf. Almost too pretty to eat.

Almost.

Suddenly the Internet Feels Like Summer Camp

Time for a break in our less-than-regularly-scheduled programming. I have a list of blogs I really enjoy reading -- a very long list. I couldn't possibly read them every day, although there are a few, like Mary's blog, that I check almost daily. However, I do eventually visit them all. Imagine my surprise to visit DaMomma's blog today and see my name! Seems my cousin Susie posted a meme on her blog, and tagged me...and tagged DaMomma, too.

The Internet is beginning to feel a little like summer camp. Here I am in Japan, and I discover from my friend in Massachusetts (who I've never met in person, but for whom I designed and typeset DaBook) that my cousin in Wisconsin tagged me for a meme. Suddenly, we're not thousands of miles away from each other...it's as if we're all in the same cabin, whispering and giggling after lights out.

So, without further ado (or any more parenthetical remarks), here's the meme, via Susie and DaMomma.

The Rules:

• Link to the person that tagged you and post the rules on your blog.
• Share five random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog.
  Share the five top places on your “want to see or want to see again” list.
• Tag a minimum of five random people at the end of your post and include links to their blogs. Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment in their blog.

The Meme:

• I was tagged by SusieQ.
• Five Random/Weird Facts About Me:
• I was the wardrobe mistress for the Big Apple Circus and shared one of six "bunk rooms" in a semi-truck's trailer with a roommate. When one of us was standing, the other had to stay on her own bunk, as there wasn't room for two of us to stand at the same time.
• I have really surprisingly straight teeth naturally, no braces. For most of my life, dentists and hygenists have assumed I had braces and have been very surprised when I've told them I haven't. Of course, now, at almost 42 years old, it seems that one of my front teeth has decided to turn sideways just in the past year or so, and I may have to get braces after all!
• I don't particularly care for cake, just the frosting. If I could get away with it, I'd lick all the icing from cupcakes and leave the cake part.
• The best New Year's Eve I've ever spent was the year I was part of the overnight team for Room in the Inn. Area churches take turns providing meals and shelter for the homeless during the colder months, and teams of volunteers work the various shifts (set-up, cooking, clean-up, laundry, spending the night with the guests, etc.) That evening, I was one of the two "spend-the-night" crew for our downtown church. I escorted three of our guests to the front lawn of the church for a cigarette break and to watch the New Year's Eve fireworks. We watched the fireworks and the passing revelers, and talked for over an hour. I learned more that night about humanity, compassion, loss and grief than I'd ever known, just from talking to those three men. It was life changing.
• When I was in first grade, our school was still being constructed. A group of us went to the newest girls' lavatory. Before we left, we knew we were supposed to wash our hands, but there was no soap dispenser. I saw a large tin of soft, gooey, brown stuff. "It's soft soap!" I told the other little girls. "Just like Laura Ingalls Wilder used in the little house on the prairie!" They all nodded, impressed with my knowledge, and we all lathered up. It wasn't soft soap -- it was that disgusting waterproof stuff used to make a water-tight seal when installing a toilet. Getting the gunk off was a nightmare, and to this day, if my family thinks I am making something up or guessing with no real knowledge, they'll roll their eyes and say "yeah, soft soap!"
• Top five places I want to visit or visit again:
  • Greece
  • Prague
  • Peru
  • India
  • Space
• Tag at least five friends:
• Resident Alien (Mary)
• Ei's Eyes
• From the Planet of Janet
• I Left My Heart in Okinawa (cousin Emily)
• Rock the Cradle (Paula)

Now I have an inexplicable desire to make a lanyard, or sing a song with hand gestures while sitting on a log by a campfire...

Whaling Sheds & Banjo Music

Merry Christmas from Japan! After trips to Hong Kong (to meet Fearless Husband) and to the US (to see my family) for me, and a deployment that included stops in Hong Kong and Cambodia for FH, we're both back home, very happily settling in to spend a little time together for the holidays. It's finally cold here in Sasebo, much to my relief and pleasure, and we've got the kerosene heater going. FH's settled in to play his computer game, and I figure it's finally time to finish writing about my adventures with MM (from last March!) As always, click on the images for larger versions.

The day after our trip to Huis Ten Bosch, MM and I headed to the porcelain town of Arita. MM braved the rainy streets in his rain suit -- a waterproof shirt and pants of white Tyvek (I think) that he unfolded from the tiniest little pouch. It was astonishing, and kept him dry as he explored, looking like a slender Michelin Man (no, that's not what MM stands for!) I was terrible company, very boring, staying in the car to catch up on a backlog of work. (More about Arita in another post!) Sunday, MM headed out to Nagasaki overnight, and I collected him the next evening at the JR (Japan Rail) station, where we enjoyed tonkatsu and conversation.

The next morning, March 27, dawned with grey skies and drizzling spring rain, but that didn't stop us! My work finally done, we headed out, armed with directions to Hirado Island and Ikitsuki (pronounced "ih-kit-ski") Island, about an hour and a half to two hours away by car. This was my first long drive (not that I let MM know that!) Along the way, I saw a little sign by the side of the road, with an arrow pointing to Senryu Falls. I asked Mike what he thought, and he was game, so I made a U-turn and off the route we went! I'd never heard of Senryu Falls, but I love waterfalls, and it seemed like a good idea to at least check it out. Mist shredded against the surrounding hills as we drove up a twisty road through what looked at first like a residential area, then seemed to be more like steep farmland. A few precocious cherry trees had begun to bloom a pale and misty pink, delicate and ethereal against the other trees, either dark evergreens or leafless and bare.

I was just about at the point of suggesting we turn back around and continue on to Hirado, when the road suddenly ended in a tiny parking area, big enough for perhaps four or five cars. A sign in Japanese (no English) hinted that perhaps we'd arrived at our destination....we hoped! A wide footbridge with vivid red rails arched over a busy stream in a small ravine, and we crossed the bridge and headed up the path. As we crossed the bridge, a second car pulled up behind us, and a businessman, in suit and tie, hopped out and hurried past us, heading up the steep little path like a man with a mission. MM and I took our time, wandering up slowly past a landscaped area with rocks and plantings and a little picnic area. The path split in two, but investigation proved that the two routes came back together again a little further on...one direction took a meandering route past the picnic gazebo, the other simply a more direct route.

As we made our way up the increasingly steep path, the businessman hurried past us, headed back to his car. MM and I looked at each other, a little puzzled, and kept going, curiosity piqued now! The uphill path became stairs, and after a very short climb, we arrived at a funny, slightly ramshackle little shrine building. A row of shoes on the thick wooden step was evidence of other humans, but we'd seen no other cars in the lot, and we couldn't see any people, even now! The shrine itself was open on one side, doors thrown back to display offerings before a cluttered altar as well as the ubiquitous wooden box with wooden grille top, specifically for coins. Tattered ropes hung down from a couple of rusty bells, so one could alert the spirits to one's prayers. Fresh incense burned, explaining the mystery of the businessman, who must have felt the need for prayer before a big presentation or meeting. There was a whiff of kerosene on the air, and we figured there were priests or a caretaker and family in the attached wooden structure. Across the "landing" from the shrine was a clean, empty wooden building with three walls and a roof...perhaps for prayers or gatherings? In front of the open building was a big rectangular trough of a sink, with a metal pipe stretched across it. Holes had been punched in the pipe, and chopsticks stuffed in some of the holes to plug them. Other holes were open, and a few constant, very thin streams of water squirted into the mossy basin. I think the pipe was spring- or stream-fed...the stream, after all, was right beside us, rushing down the hill, and there didn't seem to be any evidence of serious plumbing.

Past the two buildings was an open concrete area, sort of a balcony or viewing area, where one could stand (or sit) to contemplate the rushing water. To one side of this space were more stairs, headed further up the hill/mountain in a dripping green tunnel. Two stone temple dogs flanked the stairway, and studding both sides of the path as we went up were statues and figures and stone lanterns, large and small and of many different styles. Some were carved stone, some were cement, some were glazed porcelain. Each had a little collection of small coins, sake glasses, and plastic cups -- offerings -- placed before it. One glazed porcelain dragon particularly caught my eye, as did a large stone "guardian" statue, with a background piece that had once been colored red, and a little cloaked figure on a base of faded glazed tile. Other little statues were surprises (including a serene little bald buddha who made me smile!) mostly hidden on rocks and ledges within the vegetation. I was thrilled to see some Jack-in-the-Pulpit, which I'd never seen growing wild before.

The falls growled and rumbled beside the path...though there were several rather large cascades, there wasn't one big, roaring portion that would cause one to say "oh, THAT'S the falls." Instead, the stream leapt and foamed and sprayed its way down the mountainside, with a different view at each "landing" and each new perspective. I think we both really enjoyed our unexpected side trip to Senryu Falls...and as we headed back to the car, the drizzling rain lifted. The wetness and mist had lent an otherworldly quality to our adventure, and it seemed just perfect to have the rain stop and a few bits of blue sky peek through the overcast as we finished!

MM and I continued on our way to Hirado Island as the sun played hide and seek, and we both enjoyed watching the passing countryside, shops, and residences. Once across the lovely red bridge to Hirado Island, I drove as slowly as I dared so MM and I could gawk. Hirado was a trading port, welcoming the Chinese and the Dutch (who were later moved to Dejima in Nagasaki during the Edo period). There's a beautiful castle in the main town of Hirado on the island, though most of it is a restoration rather than the original. MM and I chose not to stop, and headed on, driving the length of the island to cross the next beautiful bridge (blue this time -- the longest continuous truss bridge in the world, measuring in at 1312 ft.) Ikitsuki Island was even more beautiful, and more remote, than Hirado. It's primarily known for whaling and hidden Christians, oddly enough. See http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,925197,00.html for a fascinating article about the "crypto-Christians" of Ikitsuki Island. The main industry is fishing (whales, squid and flying fish), though there is also quite a bit of agriculture (rice and beef cattle...and honestly, the cattle surprised me. Rice paddies? No surprise. A herd of cattle? Startling, in that very Japanese landscape!) We drove past lots and lots of fishing vessels, and relatively small harbor enclosures, each with a very large, open-fronted shed right at the water, for butchering whales. Part of me was appalled, and part of me was fascinated. MM and I explored the island, driving completely around it, stopping occasionally to explore interesting paths.

We stopped for lunch on Ikitski Island at the Cafe Payala, an adventure in itself! We entered with a little trepidation, past the dog tied to his doghouse just outside the front door. Inside, half was a restaurant, with mismatched tables and chairs, the other half a mish-mash of seating (a couch, some folding chairs, a bench seat from a Volkswagon van, etc.) and a small stage cluttered with a bewildering array of musical instruments (guitars, an Irish harp, various Asian instruments from Okinawa, Vietnam, etc., a full drum kit, and so forth). Beatles memorabilia decorated every surface. The menu was very short, and listed two pizzas (meat or seafood), minestrone soup, a BLT, or Japanese chicken curry. The ponytailed, Graeful-Dead-groupie-type owner/chef/waiter paused to show MM the freestanding woodstove (one of MM's companies makes most of the world's woodstove thermometers, and MM was fascinated!). The pizza, complete with clamshells, was delicious, and our new friend played a bit on the banjo for our entertainment, singing "On the Bayou" phonetically, as it was pretty clear he spoke very little English. What an odd experience that little place was! Before we left, MM and I purchased a couple of the guy's CDs as souvenirs of our visit.

On we went to the lighthouse perched high on a headland at the tip of the island. The views were astonishing, down hundreds of feet into amazingly clear blue water, and across the water dotted with little islets to a coastline with gigantic windmills. We drove back down the opposite side of Ikitsuki Island, stopping here and there to wander down interesting paths. We drove home in the golden light of the setting sun, to meet Miyuki at a local izakaya, where we had more sashimi (including whale meat!) and seafood than I've ever eaten at one time in my entire life. We'd had squid jerky and ginger chips to snack on during the afternoon, but by nightfall, we were starving. I'd told MM about my first visit to an izakaya, where Miyuki and Yuri tried to get me to eat the fish eyes, so the minute a fierce-looking, whole hobon fish was placed before him, MM plucked one of the eyes out and popped it in his mouth. "Hmmmm....chewy," he declared, before helping me demolish the rest of the fish's delicious flesh. No one can say MM's not adventurous! We sampled various kinds of chu-hi, a "wine cooler" sort of drink made with shochu (where sake is fermented like beer, shochu is distilled like whiskey, and exponentiall stronger!) mixed with various fruit juices. We tried mango, ume (sour plum), and yuzu (a sour citrus fruit), but my favorite was lychee.

Stay tuned for our trip to Unzen and Shimabara the next day -- see below for a few more photos and a video!

How to Succeed in Blogland (Without Really Trying)

I do not do memes.

Let me repeat, I do NOT do memes. However, one of my very favorite people (and fellow blogger) Mary at Resident Alien tagged me with this meme, so I find I can't help myself. She flattered me as well, telling me she was hoping to prod me into posting more adventures. What she doesn't realize is that posting this relieves some of the guilt and pressure I was feeling to post, so now I can relax for a few days! HA!

Roolz 4 R33ly Gr8 Blogging:

1. Use L33T-speak whenever possible (see above). Everyone will then realize you are uber-cool and not just a bored, middle-aged military wife.
   
2. When you really want to emphasize something, make each word its Own. Fragmentary. Sentence. For example: "I may not post often, but I think about posting All. The. Time."
   
3. White text on a black background shows that you are uber-hip, and also that you are very serious about writing just for yourself. Your audience will feel special if they think you are blogging for Serious Reasons, not just for popularity. This -- despite the headaches caused by trying to read the tiny white letters on the heavy black background -- should make you more popular which is, after all, the reason you blog in the first place!
   
4. Use as many acronyms as pseduonyms as possible. Readers love to feel "in the know" as they read your blog, smug in the knowledge that they are part of the priviledged few who've been around long enough to know that LexHBBS is actually "Loser Ex-Husband's Bitchy Boss' Secretary." This technique has the added benefit of forcing new readers to sift through your archives, trying to decipher your current posts.
   
5. Fill your blogroll with the coolest of the cool, as if they were all close personal friends. Forget your real friends -- no one knows who they are! If your blogroll doesn't start with Dooce, Amalah and Perez Hilton, you're a loser. (Edited to add: I don't hate these A-listers. I enjoy reading Amalah occasionally, though I'm not much of a Dooce fan. I'm just speaking to the practice of filling one's blogroll with ONLY A-list bloggers, as if you never read any other blogs, or as if you are trying to prove you are one of them by association.)
   
6. Never write long blog posts. Only nerds and mouthbreathing eggheads want to read actual text in the first place, so you can rest assured that no one wants to make the effort to read more than a paragraph or two. But post every day, even if you have nothing to say except whining about how unfair life is (to you, of course) or describing your child's gastrointestinal processes in graphic detail.
   
7. Beg for comments. Whine for comments. Plead for comments. After all, comments are how you know if you are popular. But...if anyone ever leaves you less than absolute and fawning praise in a comment, take big offense and ensure that your next post is a snarky and sarcastic diatribe against the offender.

There, with tongue firmly in cheek. How's that, Mary? Actually, I had fun! I tag...umm...Liz and Lori.