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.

silent witnesses

It has taken me a few days to process our visits to the Nagasaki and Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museums. I am still quite sure that this blog post will be utterly inadequate. How can I convey the overwhelming pain and sorrow in the exhibits? Each museum ended with positive notes of peace, and dire warnings of the use of future nuclear bombs, but those parts were such a blur. My heart basically stopped in the aftermath portions of the museum. In Nagasaki, by far the most intense experience for me was touching a twisted glass bottle and a scorched brass name-plate, and almost hearing the screams of pain from those long dead victims. In Nagasaki I let it all inside, and almost lost myself in the empathy for the scarred bricks and carbonized rice, if that makes sense. Of course I completely lost it when reading the survivor accounts. Afterwards, we sat in the neighboring peace park for a bit, where I cried my eyes out.



In Hiroshima, I was able to put up some defenses and blocks, mostly for my own sake, which helped ameliorate the pain, but also helped me see past the blinding anguish to appreciate how far each city has come. It is truly amazing to walk the streets of Nagasaki and Hiroshima, the friendliest cities we've stayed in so far, and see the peace and happiness of the people. Everywhere there are long strings of colorful paper cranes, an homage to Sadako Sasaki, a girl who died of leukemia from exposure to the radiation from the bomb. There is almost a joy in the memorial statues and plaques that dot the city, and a firm emphasis on supporting all people lucky to be still living.

It's Never What You Expect

I was under the impression that Japanese TV programs were absolutely crazy. It's not quite so. While there are some very strange panel format entertainment programs, only a couple programs really stood out.

The first was a program we were inspired to watch after hearing an older woman laughing loudly at the TV in our hotel lobby. It took the format of a panel of (famous?) people who were watching short segments of serious people making fools of themselves. It included a senile magician, and a man who invented a "keibeki" (or at least that's what I thought they were saying) which was a diaper of some sort... oh, and then went on to demonstrate its... uhh... capacity (and I don't mean #1) in the back of a car with plastic-wrapped seats. We cried from laughter, but not to the point of needing a keibeki.

The second was another panel format show all about cute animals. This included adorable and... less than adorable puppies, a segment showing the adventures of a chimp and its pet dog, and then the same chimp trying to get lucky by displaying itself in lavish clothing, or by giving the other chimp gifts of food (which it instead ate before giving, much to the very visible irritation of the chimp being courted).

Otherwise, it's the commercials that are the highlight of Japanese television. Usually they are too fast for me to understand any of the Japanese. However, they work on many levels. We just happen to be missing the level that causes the commercial to make sense.

Making even less sense is the reason for airing an episode of ALF just now. It's been 15 years since I've seen an episode! Good thing I found the button on the remote for an english audio stream!

3/20-21

Nagasaki: the land of adorable small dogs and children....





.... and fat koi.



Coincidence?

how to keep Gretchen entertained for two hours

On our train trip from Kyoto to Nagasaki (about five hours total, mostly by bullet train (wahoo!)) I was finally able to use a mysterious kit of "make your own sushi" that Meridith had picked up in the candy aisle during our first week in Tokyo. Even after she left, and Ben and I moved to the next town, I couldn't bring myself to throw away the DIY candy sushi, even though the box was so bulky. Finally I would have several captive hours, and my only book (the Thin Man) had to be rationed out.

After studying the back of the box, and poking Ben from his gameboy stupor to read me some of the directions, I set to work. It was a carefully designed plastic tray with specific compartments for each packet of dry powder, which mixed with water yielded: rice, egg omelet, salmon roe, tuna. There was also a small dark green cube to be rolled out for the seaweed. It was all so very cool, and I was completely absorbed for two hours. Ben kindly documented the results:










I think it was mostly for looking at, not for eating. Bleh!

3/18

Apparently Ben and I had been hanging out on the wrong side of the river in Kyoto. The charm and beauty of the West side is a rare (but worthwhile) beast, requiring some extra work to uncover. The East side, however, is overflowing with it, fully marinating in all it's glory. And it knows it too. We had multiple (real) Geisha sightings, and posed with meiko (geisha in training) at one of the many fabulous temples in Kyoto. Ironically, as we watched everyone clamoring for a picture with the harrassed geisha, I saw an old Japanese woman ask to pose with a group of sullen punky looking American teenagers. And then more groups of Japanese women lined up to pose with them too!





After the temple, we wound our way down to the flatland of Gion, the historic capital of Kyoto's cultural scene and Geisha. Our guidebook announced that we were on the "most beautiful street in Kyoto" and I think it was right, but the beauty was so understated and minimalistic that I didn't realize it until we were back on the conventional streets. Behind the wooden slats and fences, we could catch glimpses of little entry ways with miniature fountains, arranged stones, moss gardens, and a row of shoes on the edge of a tatami floor. These were the hidden exclusive tea houses of Gion, where new patrons must have a personal introduction to even get in! Most didn't even have signs, leaving the outside world completely oblivious.



Unfortunately, I think we were about a week early to appreciate the full splendor of Kyoto, as we could see all the buds on the cherry trees, but none were really blooming. I tried to imagine what the celebrated gardens would look like, and I'm sad we couldn't actually see it. However, I do love the quietness of the touristy areas now, and can only imagine the chaos of these areas when the sakura season peaks.

3/16

Today we really earned our mochi! We visited on Fushimi-Inari Taisha Mt. Inari, a series of shrines and over 10,000 vermilion torii gates over a 4 km hike up the mountain. The whole complex dedicated to the gods of rice and sake. What color is vermilion, you say? We had not a shadow of a doubt about that after this hike!



After hours of walking through torii gates, you could feel the meditative quality of the hard climbing and the sun / shade rhythm each post created. Sometimes, especially in the lower areas, the gates were so thick they created dark tunnels, and we would come out from them blinking in the sun.



Lots and lots of steps, mostly up, but sometimes also down.



As we were winding down from the mountain, we realized it was completely necessary to eat inari on Mt. Inari, so we pulled over to one of the many tiny shops lining the path, and had some of the best inari we'd ever had!



Ben liked posing with all the cats populating the hill side. Nekko!