Happy New Year!

The year of the Rabbit, 2011, arrived in Nagoya with our first floury of snow. Before New Year, thousands of people crammed our local streets to get to the nearby, Heiwa Park Cemetery. By January 1, all the individual graves were adorned with posies of pine branches and flowers. Every single grave had been visited by their family. Tradition is an enormous part of Japanese life. No wonder this place is so crowded all the time. I actually think the Japanese like being surrounded by others. It is just what you do here, tradition, tradition, tradition. Get in the car and sit in a traffic jam. Go to where everyone else is going. Queue in an orderly fashion to take a peak at a special Buddha, maybe rub his shoulder for good luck. During autumn like everyone else, we got in the car, drove to the nearby prefecture of Gifu to look at the Autumn leaves. Are we becoming Japanese? We spent weekend after weekend in ridiculously slow going traffic jams. Was there an accident? No, just everyone in Japan driving around trying to get back home, merging traffic, slowing and stopping. At least we can watch the TV in our car when we stop:)

All the workplaces build up to new year with "Forget the Year" celebrations. Every man, (women stay at home and clean, wash and cook meals - another tradition)  has a number of evening events to attend.  Before New Year there is a scurry of emptying out unwanted goods, many of them perfectly functional. Every house and workplace is decorated with pine and twine decorations. We think about doing it too, but are cautioned that all decorations must be removed by January 10th and burned or some awful bad luck might happen. OK, the pressure, what if we forget to take it off the door? How will we burn it?

New Years Eve (unlike Australian culture) is a reflective evening, a time to be with your close family. At midnight, families visit their Shinto Shrine or Buddist Temple to ring the bell, 108 times I think it was, all for good luck. Before dawn, they wake back up again to greet the New Year. It is a tradition to climb to the peak of a mountain to see the first sunrise of the New Year. We joined our friends to climb such a  mountain. The sun rose at 7am.We climbed to the top, stood and waited to see the sunrise. It was pretty unremarkable, a little cloudy, but again we were not alone, at least 200 people stood with us and hoped for a spectacular visual event. We cooked Omachi with the locals in the fire. Omachi is a rice cake that is as hard as a rock until it is roasted. It is a tradition to do this too. Careful though, 1000 people choke on Omachi every year.

We welcome the year, 2011, the year of the Rabbit.
Happy New Year!!

Christmas in Japan

Samui desu yo. It is cold. But not cold enough for us, we head to Hokkaido for a guaranteed White Christmas. Christmas is not a public holiday here in Japan, we could be excused to miss the whole occasion if it wasn't for a skiing Santa and kitsch Christmas carols being aired at our Japanese hotel. Christmas is celebrated as a present giving event but it is really only a party, unlike New Year's Day which is one of the biggest family occasions of the Japanese calender. At time of writing people are celebrating the end of the year with, "forget the year" parties and women "spring clean" the house, throwing out as much as possible to make way for a new year and new things. We did manage to put on a Christmas lunch on the 19th December with our friends who are practising hindus. They were great company and helped bring a little family to our Christmas luncheon. We found a turkey leg, bright red inside with a curious flavourless taste, not much better than a plastic toy.(I think it said turkey on the packet) We were very proud of our Christmas cake though,  it took many supermarkets to find the right ingredients. It is difficult to locate sultanas around here. The cook at the kids school informed me that he has been requested not to use them when making scone like cakes. Squishy sultanas embedded in flour is not a local delicacy. So with 8 packets of the little squished flies, 100g per packet, somehow, we produced a great big Australian Christmas cake. We packed it in our luggage and took it to the airport, got on the plane with a 25kilo bag full of Christmas cake, smiled a lot to avoid excess baggage and away we went for our skiing holiday of a lifetime.

Ice was floating in the sea before Sapporo airport. It set the scene for our week of negative temperatures. What was even more surprising was watching two F18 aeroplanes landing on the same runway as us. Wow! Have you ever seen an F18 land? It is all about the rear tyres. These military planes looked like they were performing at the Paris airshow, pointy nose tip in the sky at a 45 degree angle, running down the tarmac for most of its' length. Incredible first time sight!

Niseko was as beautiful as expected. The air was always crisp and snow fell almost non-stop.The snow was the driest snow ever seen. Powder. Now I get it. Powder is different to snow, slush, rocks and roots. This was seroius skiing at its' best. The illusive Mount Yotei revealed himself rarely. A huge Fuji-san look alike just across the valley. Arriving by bus on the 21st of December, we had a clear view of the full moon, the shortest day of the year in the northern hemisphere and a partial lunar eclipse. Spooky!

We had a feast of Japanese cuisine for a week, 12 hours of skiing a day with plenty of breaks, much of it by artificial light and a sulphourous onsen if we chose. Bliss!



NEKO

CATS

Just back from my morning walk around the neighbourhood through Heiwa Park (peace park) and the eucalyptus plantation (the eucalyptus are being grown for the koalas at the zoo). I am still trying to understand the significance of the humble cat to the Japanese. It can be difficult to have a pet in Japan, people live so closely together and most apartment blocks do not allow them. Dogs seem to be trained not to bark, even the smallest terrier. Most dogs are tiny, special breeding produces miniature dogs. In Japan there are miniature dachshunds, corgis, chihuahuas and tiny terriers of all varieties. Many dogs, some would describe as nothing more than a football. On my walk, I pass a grown man in his suit with three cats around his feet. One is a kitten. The kitten sits on his leather shoes. The man feeds the stray cats as if they were his own. He looks at me as I pass by. What is he thinking?  I guess I should say, "aren't they cute", "kawai desu ne". Does he come down here to this park to feed these cats everyday? As a Melbournian I can hear 774's Dr. Hugh say they should be destroyed, but this man, feeding these semi-tame, wild cats treats them as his own. He is feeding them commercial cat food and they are living here in the peace park. There are cats like these all over Japan. Another 300 metres along, a well dressed lady gets out of her brand new Toyota and produces bread crumbs for another group of cats, some with deformed stumpy tails. Six plump, wild cats scurry over for breakfast.

When we first arrived in Japan these cats seemed deplorable. They still seem deplorable, but now at the least we have an understanding that they provide a soothing comfort to many in Japan who come to feed them and treat them as their own. In Asian culture the cat is more than just a wild pet living in the park, but their true significance is still something that we do not understand. If you can help us to understand the significance of the cat, please post a message or send an email. Why are there cats waving their left hand, some their right? Why are there art exhibitions devoted to the cat? Why is there a street in Tokanome, a pottery district near Nagoya completely themed on cat art?



FUJI APPLES

It is apple season now, the end of autumn. Japanese apples are so different to those we have in Australia. They are enormous, way too large for a bento box or western lunch box. One fuji apple can feed a whole family. These apples are so sweet and drip apple juice like a tap. We were kindly taken to this apple orchard, a secret location, somewhere near Iida just into Nagano prefecture. The children were instructed to climb to the top of the oldest trees to pick the sweetest apples. Some trunks were 50cm in diameter. We cannot help but compare these apples to the ones we know in Australia, how we would love to have a tree so plentiful and apples so large. Something tells us that these apples have been growing here for 100s of years, maybe even longer.

With the snowcapped mountains in the distance we are in awe of this country's beauty. The valleys are so packed to the brim with small buildings, people living in small apartments all over Japan. Rural Japan seems just like the cities. Yet to escape these crammed living situation just look up. On a clear day a beautiful rugged mountain is almost always in sight.

NARA in Autumn

Tea Ceremony

Ocha, Green Tea.

Having seen where and how it is grown, Sophia and I now venture forth to learn how it is served. The tea ceremony is somewhat of a mystery to us. Such ritual we cannot fully understand, but at least we can see how it is done and observe.

Nervously, we enter into Sensei Kato's home to learn something of the fine art. We are seated on the tatami matting, generously welcomed as special visitors from abroad. How long can we sit on our legs before the numbing causes a lack of circulation and a squealing Australian cry resonates through the paper thin doors?  How do the Japanese sit like that for hours? We meet the other students and are introduced, we bow deeply to the floor and try to learn the art of bowing before we learn the art of the ocha ceremony. Bowing seems to be easy now, although my Japanese friend insists that my bow looks more like a bow reserved for meeting the Emperor or the next Samurai.
I look at our Sensei. Sensei Sato, a specialist in the art of tea ceremony. She is 88 years old. She sits on her legs for the entire three hours, she is described by Sensei Kato as lively. Well, she sure is doing better than me with that kneeling position. I bow deeply to her, my hands in front, on the ground. I bow my Emperor bow to her, it seems appropriate. Sensei Sato has been teaching the art of the tea ceremony for over 50 years. I give her the best and deepest bow that I know.

Before I pass out from lack of circulation to the limbs I am asked if I would like to sit in a seat. A welcome invitation, the Japanese seem to understand the difficulty we foreigners have with kneeling or was, "help my legs are killing me", written all over my forehead? Apart from Sophia I am the youngest person at the tea ceremony, yet, I have to sit on the seat. Oh dear!

Sophia and I sit and observe. One by one the Japanese students prepare and make the tea, mutter some words and bow again. Sensei Sato corrects their movements. The small urn needs to placed in the most particular way, the prettiest side of the ceramic pot pointing to the guests, everyone seems to have trouble with its' precise position. A little back, a little further around. And how to open the lid? The tea must be checked by the guest who is drinking it, turn it twice, open and smell. It is a brilliant bright green. Not iridescent, but green like a grove of cypress pine.

It is my turn now, back onto my knees I kneel.

Now that I am in the special serving position, I should be feeling terribly nervous. The other guests have giggled with embarrassment at their mistakes and now it is my turn. Knowing that every move and touch of the cup and plate will be incorrect I should be worrying myself into a deep sweat alike to the summer heat just passed. But these wise women and one man put me at ease. It doesn't matter how badly I receive my sweet or slurp my tea. In fact I am instructed to make loud gulping noises, oo and ahhs to describe how delicious it all is. I must subtly vocalise my delight in this whole process. Firstly I am handed a sweet that represents the season, currently autumn. Japanese people are happy when the autumn persimmon arrive, it is almost as favourable as the cherry blossom in the spring. It is true, now, there are persimmons on ever corner. Round orange fruit hanging from trees all over Japan. Does anyone have a recipe for persimmons?

My first test. I am handed the sweet to eat first. Somehow I am supposed to cut this Japanese sweet with a little piece of wood, not much bigger than a toothpick. Ah, it is stuck, mm, what to do? All eyes are on me now, they look to see how I enjoy it. I decide to chuck the whole thing in and chew. It wasn't very lady like really, certainly not Japanese at all. I am left with a smudge of stuck-on bean sweet on the paper. Maybe I should just stuff that in my pocket to hide the remnant mess.But am saved by Sensei Kato who quickly eradicates the foreigners evidence from the room. It is then time to try the green tea. It is thick, cypress grove green  and looks chunky! Gosh, again everyone watches to see if I like it. Sensei Sato corrects me as I hold the bowl of tea with the wrong hand, I drink it as quickly as I can. Luckily it is not as bitter as I had feared. I have passed the initial test of Tea Ceremony. It is a true art that is studied for years and years. The most promising student is a lady who has a lesson each week and has done so for three years. She folds the drinking cloth with finesse, rotates the bowl and places every vessel perfectly. It is mesmerizing to watch her, she is so fluent and at ease in this surprisingly exquisite art form of the Tea Ceremony.

Baseball

Before I talk about sport, I can now report that summer has ended. Such relief. It was the hottest, longest summer ever recorded in Japan. The temperature gauge read 35C-38C everyday, but it is difficult to understand the effects of the humidity without experiencing it first hand. The local weather report gave a sweat index, often translated as,"you will squirt today". This literally means that you will have beads of water jumping off your head and a mini creek running down your face. The Japanese carry a small towel, some wear nappy like bandannas and  the women walk with parasols to help reduce the temperature. The surprise for us was that the temperature didn't drop much at night, certainly not enough to stop sweating. Four and a half months of sweat-ugh! But now, the weather is perfect, it is 25C and no wind. As of October 1st all school students across Japan changed to their winter uniform, the temperature is irrelevant. The swimming pools have closed and the office workers have packed away their short sleeve shirts for another year. It is a great time to travel to Japan.
Sport

No one in Japan knows anything about AFL, neither the expats nor the Japanese have ever heard of the game and have no desire to know more.  "Is it like rugby?", they ask. Cricket seems to get a better response, at least the Japanese have heard of it and many of the expats play it in their home country; the Caribbean, England, India, Pakistan. We did have a bit of luck in the park one day with our cricket, providing curious
entertainment  for the locals and with some brave Japanese boys joining in. But when in Rome, one must do as the Romans do and that is definitely Baseball with a capital B. It is huge here in Japan, bigger than sumo wrestling and soccer. Worried that he might lose his cricket swing or bowling technique, you know who had to be dragged along by his peers to sign up for the team. Changing the swing to horizontal took some practice, bowling from a mini mountain seemed impossible and trying to catch the ball with that ridiculous over sized glove was stupid. However it is now apparent that cricket is a great training ground for baseball. When he lined up in the B team to bat against Osaka International School he drove the ball through the covers and with the whole of Nagoya International School cheering made the only home run for the day, his first hit in competitive baseball.

Now he is in the A team, placed in the outfield, he throws twice as far as those with a background in baseball. Playing cricket is a great way to prepare for baseball. He has been described as a natural athlete by his coach. Thankyou NIS.