Give it to Gretchen; She'll Eat Anything... Once.

Gretchen has a few select taste buds that are only stimulated by exotic flavors. They do not seem to be satisfied with anything that's been tried more than once or that less than 95% of the world's population would at least cringe at. In Japan, there was no end of opportunity for Gretchen to pander to them. A non-inclusive list of adventurous foodstuffs that Gretchen ate while in Japan: Horse, eel, sea urchin, shrimp brain (unintentionally), cuddle fish (we think), octopus, cow tongue, countless unidentified sashimi (raw fish), and natto (fermented soybeans that smell like bare feet in sandals at the end of a summer day in Houston).

Now, in Osaka we had to "settle" for a centrally located business hotel. A buffet breakfast was provided with our room, so long as we got up before 9 am, and we didn't mind a Japanese style breakfast. So we ate lots of rice, seaweed, eggs, salad, and noodles every morning. There were certainly other things too, and each day they even rotated the dishes on offer. On the second to last day, Gretchen's particular taste buds were whining, so Gretchen picked up some all too identifiable extras for them. One of these extras was a whole, dried fish, just larger than a large man's middle finger. Once we sat down with our respective choices from the buffet assortment, I raised my left eyebrow at the long dead fishy friend on her plate, who I know wanted to raise an eyebrow back at me... if it had one. Although, by this time in our trip, I can't say I was surprised to see her (the fish). Yes, it was a "her" as Gretchen discovered once she bit off the head half. You see, the fish's belly was fully of hundreds of tiny fish eggs.

Gretchen diligently chewed the fish and its, bones, scales, eyes, and eggs. Not too bad, she remarks. Oh, maybe I'll give it a try once I'm done with my salad, I thought. We both continued to eat until the Japanese couple at the table across from us left. Hardly a heartbeat out of sight and Gretchen made a face that drew her tongue far, far away from her teeth. The bridge of her nose was exhibiting every wrinkle possible, as if drawing her nose up would somehow stop the idea of the dried fish from invading her thoughts. But it was too late. Gretchen was not pleased at all with having eaten the fish, so she expressed to me. So I inquired, "why then, did you eat it, rather than spitting it out?" She explains that the Japanese couple had their eyes on her. They were watching to see what she would do with it once half of the fish was in her mouth.

Well, Gretchen is proud of her eccentric taste buds (as am I, quite honestly), and she is especially proud of the fact that she as a gaijin (foreigner) might have acquired a taste for eccentric Japanese food. So she was not about to let down an authentic audience, no matter the consequences. The consequence in this case was a bad taste in her stomach for a few hours. The continued thought of it hurt my stomach as well. Not from empathy, mind you, but from laughter.

The half eaten cross section of that fish it still with me. It just reminds me that the one thing worse than a worm in your apple is half a worm in your apple. Well, Gretchen ate half a crunchy, salty, fishy, egg filled, fish worm the size of a large man's middle finger. Yes, the middle one.

The next day at the morning buffet, Gretchen was right back at it sampling the natto that I had intended to sample myself. Not even a day after the dried fish incident, Gretchen was still braver than me. I might suppose that this is why she's a chef, and I'm a... a... hmm... right, still need to figure that one out. Bravery is so attractive!

4/1 Nara

Our last day trip from Osaka was to Nara, an hour by train. It was the original capital of Japan, and is home to the largest wooden building in the world, Todai-ji. It is also home to a large herd of infamous semi-tame deer, wilder than those we had encountered before at Miyajima, and we saw some truly horrible interactions between them and tourists. The most upsetting was when a father and very young son spent many minutes teasing the deer by dangling the ubiquitous "deer crackers" just out of reach, grinning stupidly for pictures. Assholes. Of course, the small child got butted in the stomach by an angry deer, sending him sprawling. He got up, startled but unhurt. The father reacted by roundhouse kicking the deer squarely in the head. Hard. Ben and I stood there, completely stunned, jaws in our laps. I wanted to stuff some of those biscuits down the back of that guy's pants. It was so sickening to watch the completely inappropriate interactions between these wild animals and tourists just looking for something to torment in the name of a good picture. Even more upsetting was my feeling of complete helplessness: if it was America I would have happily told him off, or found the appropriate authorities, but since we are in a different culture I felt unable to do anything but debrief with Ben about it and send kind healing thoughts to the deer. But we got on with our day, giving a wide berth to the furry, oversized pigeons and the stupid tourists.


The well-worn walking route took us past many old shrines. One had the most spectacular sakura tree we had encountered yet.



At the Kasuga shrine, we walked down paths lined by over 1000 stone lanterns. They are only lit twice a year, but I wish we could have witnessed that; It gave me goosebumps to imagine it.



Just as it started drizzling, we made it to Todai-ji. Built in the mid-700s, it was rebuilt after a fire to only 2/3 of the original size. Even still, it was unbelievably massive. Inside was a gigantic statue (also the world's largest) of the Buddha Vairocana, flanked by two lesser Buddhas. A very humbling experience. Ben and I just stood there for a while, listening to the chanting of worshippers, letting the tides of tourists swirl around us.





After making the complete circuit, we found one of the fortune booths we had seen at almost every other major shrine in Japan, but with English fortunes! I eagerly picked up the giant cylindrical canister, shaking it as I emptied my mind. A wooden stick printed with a number and character slipped through the tiny hole at top, and the attendant pulled out the corresponding fortune from his shelf. Ben followed suit. Of course I won't tell you my fortune. We tied our slips of paper just outside the temple door, under the Buddhas' gaze, and with a view of the sakura in the courtyard. If ever two fortunes were to come true, that location afforded best chance.



Oh was it cold outside! We numbly continued our walk. I was suddenly struck with the brilliant idea of buying hot chocolate (for hand warming purposes) from one of the countless vending machines. The vending machines in Japan are better than yours, providing both hot and cold choices. Thank Buddha, our fingers were saved!



Back in town, we heard rhythmic thumping and chanting coming from an extremely crowded shop. Two men were hammering away with giant wooden mallets at a pile of bright green goop. Mochi! In one fluid motion, they turned it into the metal hopper of a machine, which folded in some equally fresh looking bean paste, making perfect little spheres. At the end of a very short conveyer belt, the proprietors were handing them out to the eager crowd.



Ben and I fought our way in to get a piece of that pure mochi goodness. It was still warm in our hands as we took turns taking ecstatic bites. I know it will never be that good again.



That night we met up with Ben's cousin, who was in town teaching English. He took us around some good eating places and watering holes. Ben inadvertently ordered some incredibly alcoholic sake (more like vodka), and the night turned a little fuzzy for us. Our incredibly dry trip had robbed me of what little alcohol tolerance I had, and my two Asahi were plenty. After some leisurely grazing, we remembered that we needed to attend another weekly dance, Mechakucha swing. In the smoky basement bar, we found a swarm of familiar and friendly faces. Unfortunately we showed up so late that we only had about an hour of dancing, but we tried to make the most of what we had left. Many fun dances were had, and we were sad to say goodbye to our new friends. I hope to make it back to Osaka some day!


(photo from Sumie Nishida)

3/31 Himeji

Himeji-jo, our last castle of the trip, was unique from all the others we've tromped through because it was the only non-museum castle. Instead of bright lights, carpet, artifacts on display, and brochures in five languages (which we certainly appreciated), Himeji-jo was stark and empty. The exterior was arguably one of the most beautiful we've seen so far. A white palatial complex perched high above the city of Himeji, surrounded on all sides by cherry trees just teetering on the edge of their full glory. We navigated the maze-like route between high stone walls and reinforced wooden gates, courtyards with blossoming cherry trees, finally reaching the main entrance. We were handed a plastic bag to carry our shoes through the castle, and followed the line of tour groups into the dark castle. Shuffling through the empty rooms, lit only by filtered overcast day, we admired the dark wooden floors and expansive ceilings. We climbed flight after flight of narrow stairs that seemed more like ladders (on the way back down, I played limbo with the low-lying beams jutting across at shoulder height, threatening to send you down the stair/ladder faster than wished). Each room had hidden compartments along the sides for storage of grain (or soldiers, apparently). The preserved spaces allowed our imaginations to roam as none of the previous castles had. Once again, at the top of our climb, we were greeted with sprawling views of the city below.



We had rented (for free!) two bikes from the local tourist info group. These babies were nothing to brag about, but as we cruised through the neighborhoods around the castle, we felt very glad to have them. For some reason, Ben let me lead the way, so we got slightly lost on our way to a famous nearby park. Using the towering Himeji-jo as a guide, we finally found the adorable park, and spent some time meandering around the many bike trails.





The day winding down, we made the mildly stressful ride back through town (pedestrian dodging is not much fun on the other end of the handlebars either) dropped the bikes off, and found the local grocery store for train vittles. I found an appropriate shop next door and made Ben pose.



We situated ourselves in front of a giant heater vent at the train station, blasting sweet heat on our tired faces. Ben tucked in to an early dinner.



Later that night, we visited the floating garden observatory in the Umeda Sky building, a bizarrely shaped complex of twin towers joined for at the top few floors to create the rooftop observatory shaped like an alien saucer. To reach the top, we took a glass elevator to the 35th floor, and a glass escalator for the final five stories. Yikes!!! Ben thoroughly enjoyed teasing me on the way back down by jostling and jumping in the elevator. I couldn't pinch him hard enough in retaliation through his thick jacket.



Once at the top, we walked past all the canoodling pairs (for this was obviously the land of coupledom) to the outdoor observation deck. A circular promenade perched on a larger circular base meant we couldn't see the sheer drop. The bottoms of my feet still prickled a little, but I felt relatively safe. The floor of the recessed base was a garden of colored specks of light, like little flowers. The observation deck was lit with black light, furthering the illusion of a spaceship, but mostly it provided unobtrusive lighting so we could appreciate the darkness of the night.

wouldn't you know it, but as soon as I get internet access and excitedly open my poor old computer to get at the blog posts I had faithfully typed out, everything crashes so hard my posts are completely devoured. I will try to recreate them later, but for now Ben and I have to enjoy our last few days in Tokyo. Sorry folks!

3/30 gretchen meets a whale shark

Make that two whale sharks. Brace yourselves for pictures, folks.

Today Ben treated me by going with me to the Osaka Kaiyukan aquarium, home to two whale sharks! I had been so excited about this that I had been dreaming about aquariums, fish, sharks, and the ocean for several nights. While some people look forward to the superbowl or the oscars as their annual TV event, I always look forward to shark week on the discovery channel. So you can imagine my excitement.

The exhibits focused on oceanic habitats in and around the pacific ring of fire, which allowed for a broad range of creatures to be featured. They had two kinds of otter (aleutian sea otters and a river otter), sea lions, penguins (Ben's favorite exhibit, we watched a handler enter the habitat and shovel snow onto their eager heads), gigantic amazonian fish, ... don't get me started, I could go on and on.



In several parts, the hallways were so crowded I felt like I was stuck in a Tokyo subway at rush hour, but with more interesting things to see.



But the highlight of the aquarium was the massive tank containing the two whale sharks (both small for their species, less than 5 m, but still...), manta rays, other sharks (Ben patiently listened to me prattle on about them all), and schools of brave little fish.





After the main exhibits, we found some creepy deep sea giant crab, a bonus jellyfish room and later a petting pool (not of the jellys) with rays and little sharks. Of course I stuck my hand in and pet the sharks.







This was by far my favorite day!

3/28-29 dancing in osaka

For the first time of our trip, Ben and I were able to connect with the dance scene in a city! We arrived in Osaka (after a 5 hour train trip from Matsuyama) on Saturday afternoon, and went out to a weekly swing dance that night. We were warmly embraced by the small group of lindy hoppers, and were even treated to a jam (for my non-dancing readers: they circled up around us and everyone took turns dancing with us during a song.) Their skills were solid and playful, and the owner of the venue, Charlie Nishio, made us feel more than welcome.

We were invited to join a small group the following day for a dance under the cherry blossoms at Osaka-jo castle in honor of Frankie Manning. Another translation for non-dancing readers: Frankie Manning is the forefather of the subset of swing dancing, lindy hop, that is so very popular today, and he is turning 95 this year so the dance community is flipping out. Our understanding was that there would be a videotaped dance of the shim-sham (a short choreographed dance that almost every swing dancer worth their shoes knows), and the video would be sent in with many others to be shown at his birthday party bash. We wanted to support Frankie, and dance under some cherry trees, and were planning to visit the castle anyway (of course) so off we went.

Once we arrived, we found out that in fact they were going to videotape a brand new choreographed dance that had been created specifically for Frankie's birthday, in addition to the shim-sham. We watched the video of the new choreography on someone's ipod nano screen, and within an hour of cramming felt pretty comfortable with it. However, the afternoon went much longer than we expected as other dancers were trying to grapple with it, and we practiced over and over under the direction of the organizer of the event. Concrete and street shoes plus lots of lindy hop is not a good combination at all (especially with the massive amount of hiking we're doing on a daily basis), so we decided to stick it out until the first round of filming and pack it in. I'm really glad we participated, and it was fun to learn choreography, which I so rarely do as a social dancer, but I wish we had just done several renditions of the shim sham at various locations around Osaka (especially since Frankie invented the shim sham too!). I also didn't get any pictures of the event because I was too busy dancing, but am hoping to add some later from other sources. And I also wish we had put on sun-screen before dancing in the sun for four hours. I am a bit crispy.

So we gracefully bowed out, with promises to come to their Wednesday swing dance, and moved on with our plans for the day. Yes readers, another castle. But unlike the others, Osaka castle has actually seen real battles, and fallen! Sieges, invasions, battles, etc! Inside the castle was the usual museum displays of katana swords, tools and pottery shards, model replicas of the castle and surrounding city circa 1400s, and so on. However, two of the floors featured amazing original painted screens, some in series, of famous battle scenes.





After an eight story climb (elevators schmelevators) we were exhausted, but I opened my eyes enough to appreciate yet another spectacular view. You can see my skin matches my sweatshirt, too!



We were so tired on our way back to the hotel, but decided to grab dinner because we knew we would crash hard once back at the room. We found a decent place between the subway station and our hotel, with plastic food models outside (always an easy meal choice, just point and motion for one), and a vending machine that dispensed meal tickets to hand to the waiter. Easy. We ordered double salads and got a whole jug of water, entrees (Ben accidentally ordered a cheese-stuffed hamburger steak instead of a cheeseburger) and set about replenishing ourselves. Back at the hotel, I enjoyed a nice soak in the onsen (have I mentioned how much I love onsen?) before crashing into sleepy oblivion.

eating habits

I've never gone this long without cooking. I think one of the most difficult things about this trip for me is the lack of control I have over what I'm eating. Ben and I try to buy groceries for ourselves when we can, as mini-fridges are standard in even the most modest lodgings, but we are still ignorant about the ingredients in most things. Even our standard choice of yogurt for breakfasts contains many unknown ingredients. At best we can decide what flavor we think it will be. Label illiteracy is pretty frustrating.

In our first week it was so exciting to try all the crazy snacks and candy. In Tokyo we filled a shopping basket with random things to try, and brought our kill back to the room to sample. As the days ticked by, shopping trips became quests to supplement our restaurant fare with healthy necessities. Proteins, fruits, and vegetables became our trophies. And peanut butter and jam sandwiches. Compare week one with week three:

(ignore the apple, it was a fluke)


(ignore the sake, it was for my birthday)


When I get back, just try to drag me out of the kitchen.

3/27

The only thing on our itinerary today was to visit the Dogo onsen, one of the oldest bath houses in Japan. Life is rough, I know.

But a bath on an empty stomach is not so good, so we found a local brewhouse (shock of shocks, beer that isn't Asahi!) and had our first stout in several weeks. It was dark and mellow, without too much character, but we were pretty pleased to be drinking a beer darker than beige. Now a hot bath with a full stomach is not safe either (so say oldwives everywhere), so we decided to walk around the nearby Dogo park to earn our baths.

Winding our way around the park, we found some idyllic picnic spots being put to good use, and swarms of kids being kids. It was as if all the children in town were in that park, enjoying the weather to its fullest.





Matsuyama is in full sakura season, and I caught a cherubic picture of Ben.



Geared up for our bath experience, Ben and I chose the first class treatment from the somewhat confusing menu. For about $15 each, we were given a tour of the historic rooms (including the emperor's toilet), a private tatami room to relax in, access to the semi-exclusive bath room (away from the larger, more populated (and cheaper) bath), and tea and sweets in our tatami room after our baths. Oh yes, life is hard.



While we've been to many onsen during our trip, I think the Dogo onsen was the most beautiful. The bath itself was made of polished dark stones, and was fed from its ancient geothermal source by a beautiful spout. I found out later from Ben that the men had two spouts feeding their bath, but I won't hold grudges. After our lounging time was up, we walked back to our streetcar station feeling slightly euphoric but more relaxed than we've been all trip. I will definitely miss onsen when we return to the states.

3/26 matsuyama

Our pace was leisurely. One day we visited Matsuyama-jo, the major castle in town (we have and will visit many castles on this trip, as per Ben's itinerary.) This was a pretty spectacular one, though it was never actually tested in battle. It's really too bad, because the structure of the outer wall is quite maze-like and disorienting, and could quite easily trick an invader. Now it just confuses the tourists.



As we walked the inner grounds, I heard a small voice from far away, "bang bang!" Looking up at the guard tower wall, I could see a small set of fingers poking through the firing slits and an impish face. I quickly assumed evasive maneuvers, ducking behind a sakura tree, then running out and returning fire ("bang bang") before diving behind a large sign post. We kept up this small impromptu battle for a while, until he dealt me a lethal blow, and I slowly and dramatically died in the dust. Much giggling ensued, including Ben and the handful of onlookers. I'll never know who my opponent was, but I'm glad we were able to put the castle to good use.

After climbing around inside the castle, we reached the top and (once again) were treated to fantastic views of the city. For some reason, Ben and I always seem to pick activities that take us to the highest point in a city. I'm feeling very spoiled by all this scenery.



A short jog across the expansive moat, and we found lunch at Amitie, an adorable French-style bistro. As most of you know, I had just graduated from a French cooking school before setting off on this trip, so it's still very fresh in my mind. I was pretty pleasantly surprised by the obvious care in such an inexpensive meal. We've had some pretty "French" food here (croissants with red bean paste filling, etc.) so finding bread with an actual crust was quite amazing! Ben will demonstrate:

3/25-27

Another ferry trip (my favorite way to travel) across the inland sea brought us into the warm arms of Matsuyama. Though I slept through most of the ride, Ben was pretty pleased by all the sights, and would occasionally wake me up to come look at a surfaced submarine, or the beautiful mountain islands and narrow straits. He even got to try his hand at Pachinko again, though we are both still thoroughly baffled by the game (if anyone has pointers, we'd appreciate it.)

I think Matsuyama can be described as "charming." We got off the ferry and walked to the tiny streetcar station, admiring the beachside town vibes. It's one of the smallest cities we've visited (1/2 million population). However, the "mass" transit system is still quite wonderful, and even includes some old style steam trains (mini sized) as part of the streetcar system. Cute!



We primarily used Matsuyama as our last outpost of relaxing and recharging. Every city after this will be quite large (Osaka and Tokyo). It was also the last place of sparse English, so it was a final test of our abilities. I think one of the most exciting interactions was when we were checking out of our hotel and the manager called us back, gruffly waving what looked like a bill for the last two nights and pointing at it. His tone suggested something bad, so we assumed he wanted us to pay (again), but I couldn't find the receipt in our wallet. After a few minutes of confusion, I'm sure he could read the anguish on our faces, and finally softened his tone enough for us to realize he was trying to GIVE us the receipt. Yeah, glad I was wearing deodorant that day.

3/24

On perhaps one of our most unexpectedly adventurous adventures, Ben and I decided to take the short ferry ride from Hiroshima across the Inland Sea to Miyajima, famous for the giant floating torii gate. According to the tourist propaganda, the water-locked torii is one of the three most photographed sites in Japan, so many readers are probably quite familiar with it. Of course we had to ham it up.



The tour guide maps and numerous signs on the island mentioned a deer park in the middle of the island, and had many dire warnings about deer eating peoples passports and JR rail passes (the unlimited access, $600 irreplaceable variety). How silly, we thought. Who would let a deer get at something that precious, and how much interest could a deer have in it anyway? Just don't go waving it around, right? As it turns out, as soon as we stepped off the ferry, we were almost tripping over deer, forget the park. At first it was cute, and I was playing Snow White and posing with them.



As we sat down by the pier for a quick picnic of onigiri (stuffed rice pockets), Ben and I started rustling the plastic wrap. Almost immediately, a doe that had been zonked out in the sun 20 meters away perked up, and resolutely started stalking towards us. Apparently the deer are extremely well conditioned by any *crinkle crinkle* noise, be it paper or plastic. I quickly shoved the onigiri in my mouth and ran away, stuffing the plastic evidence in my pocket. Ben got up and walked away, calmly munching, with the doe about 5 feet behind him, keeping pace. We soon learned to avoid crinkling any material, or at least glance fearfully around whenever we took a map out, lest we attract the wrong kind of attention. As we circled the tourist area, we saw maps and slips of paper being snatched out of peoples hands and happily devoured by the deceptively cute deer. Lost rail tickets, indeed!

Another major attraction on the island is a ropeway that takes visitors to a high look-out point, connecting to a short hike to an even higher peak, over 520 meters above the sea. Ben and I debated hiking up ourselves, but none of the maps gave us any scale of use; since my foot has been bothering me a bit, we decided to pay the ticket booth for a round-trip ropeway fare (at the time we felt a bit gouged, but we later found out it would have been over two hours of steep climbing to get up, so we didn't mind paying in the end.) So onto the gondola we go, oohing and aahing the views (and me somewhat successfully trying to ignore my fear of heights.)



At the top station, we see some warnings about monkeys. Don't look them in the eye, etc. But really, how many monkeys could there be? As it turns out, a lot. And they were only slightly more wary of people than the deer. Speaking of the deer, we figured out why the deer on the island are missing tufts of hair: monkeys apparently make poor barbers.





After we get over watching the monkeys, we start the 2 km trek to the highest point on the island. The hike took us through dense pine forests, and we stopped along the way to take in the incredible views. When we reached the top, we stood around in awe for a good half hour. We had a full panoramic view of the neighboring islands, and could even pick out the floating torii far below.





On the way back down, we passed by a shrine which claimed to be housing a flame that was over 1200 years old. It was smoldering fiercely, so we didn't see the actual fire, but breathed in the thick acrid smoke instead (gee, thanks). We also heard beautiful Buddhist chanting by the resident monk, which was interrupted by a phone call. I snapped some pictures of the odd scene (and the offering of cans of Dole fruit).



As we neared the ropeway station, violent rustling in the bushes signaled the onslaught of a wave of monkeys. I posted the video of this interaction in a previous entry. It was quite amazing!

escape from mokey island

We had no idea of what we were in for...

3/23

As you can gather, we are in Hiroshima. We put in a good full day in Hiroshima the city, visiting Hiroshima-jo, the local castle (complete with Ben dressing up as a samurai with the assistance of an amused local), a half-day of sleeping in and resting followed by the hiroshima peace memorial museum (a somewhat misleading title), and all the while looking for our next okinomiyaki fix.



Japanese cuisine is not as homogenous as one might think. Each city we visit has its own local speciality. Hiroshima and Osaka each claim to have the supreme okinomiyaki, so we feel it is our duty to take many samples of each style to make an informed opinion. Okinomiyaki is basically a layered dish, somewhat like a pizza in structure. There is a crepe on one side and a scrambled egg crepe on the other, with noodles, cabbage, various seafood bits, and whatever else have you sandwiched between, all cooked down and slathered with a savory dark brown sauce. It sounds (and looks) like a horrible mess, but it is so so tasty and comfortably filling. The appropriate pairing is with whatever mass-produced draught lager is available at the counter. One building in town has 28 individual okinomiyaki counters on four floors! It was so difficult picking out the right places to try. With three delicious data points from Hiroshima, I feel ready to take on the competing style.