“Not Boat-People, But Vote-People”*

I’m voting for this guy based on the sheer boldness of his campaign poster:

“aruku. Kiku. kotaeru.”: Literally “to walk,” “to listen” or “to ask,” and “to live up to” or “to respond.”

*Title is a reference to this poster I saw in Okinawa in 07:

Pain Relief

A few weeks ago, I overwalked and wore out my knee. The doctor told me to stop walking so much, but I live in Japan, so that’s not really an option durr. My dad and Scott told me to take ibuprofen.

Eve A (イブＡ): Ibuprofen, not birth control. 150 mg of ibupurofen per 2 tablets.

The Face Template Theory

I have this theory that there is a certain number of “face templates” that exists for people. Often, I’ll meet someone and think, “You have the exact facial structure as so and so.” Those two people may not be of the same ethnicity, and they may not even look that alike. . .except for their “face template.” The two more distinct face templates to me are worn by the celebrities Quentin Tarantino and Conan O’Brien. It’s likely you’ve met someone who shares either one of those face templates.

Having been in Japan for three weeks now, I have collected enough visual proof to corroborate my theory. I have seen so many people here who have the same face templates of my friends back home. I can recognize the face templates in this society—some that I know, some that are new to me—and make connections between the strangers that I observe. I hope to continue proving my theory right as I travel throughout the world.

お化け (obake) Ghosts

I watched a short television program with my host mom last week about ghosts in Japanese culture. According to this program, in the Western tradition, there is a distinct divide between the spirit world and the living world, and entities of one world cross into the other, whereas in the Japanese tradition, there is no clear divide, and the entities of the two worlds coexist.

I was walking up the Stairs of Doom II to my room, and when I reached the top of the stair case, the stair light went on “by itself.” There’s a light switch both at the top of the stairs and the bottom, and I wasn’t near the top one at all. When the light went on, I spun around immediately and saw no one. There is mosdef an obake in my side of the house.

Obake in the Staircase (Artists’s rendition)

FML and probably TMI [Warning: Graphic Details]

I was in line to use a restroom in a busy bookstore. When my turn finally came, I shut the sliding door behind me and tried to lock it, but when I turned the dealie clockwise, instead of locking, it looked as if a dead bolt popped out and slid open the door a little. If I turned it left, nothing happened. There were the kanji for “open” and “close” written on the lock, but in that “high tension” situation in which I knew people were waiting in line and probably seeing that I had no idea what I was doing, I opted to stop trying to lock the door and just go. The next lady in line knew I was in there, so no one would come up and open the door, right?

To my horror, as I peed quickly and repeated over and over in my head, “Someone is gonna open the door. Someone is gonna open the door,” someone opened the door.

“Sumimasen! Sumimasen!” (“Excuse me! I’m freaking in here!?!?”), as the door opened a couple inches and in peered a sweet Japanese girl toddler’s face. She, innocent, and I, bewildered, stared at each other for a few seconds before she slowly slid the door shut. I quickly finished up, washed my hands, and coolly walked out of the bathroom, and to my even greater surprise, no one let on that anything had happened. No look of embarrassment or sympathy or faked oblivion or any other sort of acknowledgement at all. The next woman in line brushed past me without so much as a look, and when I passed by the apparent mother of the Peeping Tomantha, she looked as if she had no idea what her cute little demon daughter had done to me.

Memorize the kanji for “open” and “close” by heart, and always lock the bathroom door at all costs.

Vegetarian in Japan?? (Now blogging with photos and labels!)

One of my larger concerns before studying abroad was what I would do about food. At Soka, I did the vegetarian thang for about two months, but I didn't know what I'd do on study abroad when someone else (my host family) would be feeding me. I knew avoiding beef and chicken would be relatively easy in Japan, but I was concerned about Japanese food's being very fish-oriented, so I asked some very lovely SUA vegan ladies about what they did on study abroad. I was told by one of them that it was very hard to be vegan in Japan because even seemingly unlikely things like soymilk can contain some sort of animal/fish-ness. They offered me some ideas about what I could do to keep up the vegetarianism, such as offer to do my own cooking or just not eat 和食, or traditional Japanese foods. These solutions, however, were almost impossible (nothing is impossible if you believe you can!) options for me, and it looked like there wouldn't be much I'd be able to do to stay a vegetarian. Still, I identified myself as a "somewhat strict" vegetarian on my homestay application.

I broke the vegetarian thing at home during winter break because I figured it's not fair to ask my mom to cook a special non-meat meal just for me (also my mom kept bugging me by 1) setting a dish of whatever-meat-thing in front of me and listing the health benefits of said whatever-meat and 2) telling me that I am culturally required as an Okinawan to continue eating pork, a prominent ingredient in Okinawan cuisine, so I just kinda gave up). And I realized that this should have been my attitude for Japan. I can't stay in my host parents' home and ask them to cook for me and expect them to adapt to my food habits, which are nonhealth-related in nature. So my plan became to avoid meat where I could but not to feel bad for eating meat.

My host parents asked me about the meat thing on the first night. I explained to them that when I had identified myself as a "somewhat strict" vegetarian, I meant that I didn't intentionally get meat to eat, but I wouldn't let food go to waste if there were meat in it. They were relieved to hear that because, unfortunately, there was no space in the questionnaire for me to explain in all that detail, and they had worried that I would freak out over food. They assured me that although they eat a lot of fish, I wouldn't have to worry about other types of meat, which they used much less often. Then my host mom listed the various health benefits of fish.

* * *

That first night, we ate nabe, a winter dish which is cooked in a pot at the "dinner table" (at my host house, it's the kotatsu) and contains all sorts of fishy things and vegetables. Not something I particularly like, but it is definitely probably healthful.

節分 Setsubun!

Today is setsubun, the day before the change of the seasons on the Lunar calendar. On this day, the typical Japanese family celebrates with several rituals. First, the father of the household dresses up as an oni or demon. The children throw roasted soybeans at the oni, chanting oni ha soto, fuku ha uchi: "Demons out, fortune in." Then, as papa oni is driven out, the children shut the door behind him. It's not clear to me whether they let the father back in.

I wasn't able to celebrate this specific ritual with my host father, unfortunately, but I was able to participate in a different Kansai region-specific ritual. Here, it's tradition to eat an uncut roll of makizushi (pictured below in splices) on setsubun.

But here's the kicker: You eat it silently while facing a direction that is specifically designated for that year (at least that's my understanding). So as I picked up my roll of makizushi, my host father pointed to the direction of seinansei (west southwest), and we turned out bodies that way and ate our rolls without speaking. When I took my first bite, all the juices from inside spilled down my arms. I wondered how long we would do this, and after a minute, my host mom somewhat impatiently said that that was enough. The rest of the dinner passed by normally. I asked my host parents what the origins of this tradition were, and they had no idea. They kinda shrugged and told me that they do it just because you're supposed to do it.