Spring is the Season of Change

Thailand, Malaysia, Vietnam, Saipan... as of late, suddenly beach vacations are pervading my thoughts and inspiring me to spend hours looking up hotels, flight information, and the best beaches in Southeast Asia. The idea of summer, vacations, beach trips and just going outside has expired my patience with winter. This and the fact that spring is slowly nudging its way in, with temps in the 60's last week, and budding cherry blossoms. Well, warm temps and more rain than usual... Can't say the rain is what I want, but the few warm, sunny days were a blessing. Now that March has arrived, I suppose the weather must make way for spring?
Spring is important to me more than ever this year, as it symbolizes the fact I am finally starting to feel like a human being again. David and I went for a nice walk along the Oi River (Big River) a week ago. I also wanted donuts from Mister Donut, which is near the river. The bike ride there miraculously felt normal, even the part where we were riding along a main road that is more like a highway, as the shoulder suddenly disappears and I am almost hit by the back end of a "semi" (who am I kidding, can they really be called semis here? They're tiny.).  Or, as we walked our bikes down a concrete embankment to the river, my bike felt heavy and I was using all my weight to hold it back from rolling down, yelling, "it's so heavy! AHH! Oh, it almost fell! AHH! Oh, I almost fell! Why is this so heavy? OW! I hurt my leg!"

David rolls his eyes and says "of course you did."

Me: "Why was that so hard? Why is it so heavy??"

David: "Did you use the brakes?"

I start laughing hysterically, how stupid of me not to use my brakes. I've used them plenty of times before walking my bike down a hill... So, perhaps my head isn't quite back to normal yet. Or it's just been that long since I've done anything aside sit at home and make food.

The next day, I was beside myself with excitement to go watch David's basketball tourney in the next city over. I mapped out the route, taking the train and bus. I'm going outside! I'm going out into the world! This is the happiest day of my life! Weee!!! Er, yes, well it sounded something like that.

All went well and I made it to the school, where the tourney was, in one piece. After watching David's first game (they won!), and freezing in the gym while it was so warm and sunny outside, I ran downstairs to use the bathroom. As I walked towards it, and almost into it, I realized it was a boy's bathroom. Alas! I have to go so bad! A man saw me and starting explaining something about the bathroom being outside and gave me directions, except that I was in shock about this whole ordeal that I didn't understand most of what he said. So, I went outside and walked around the building. No girl's bathroom.

Back upstairs to the gym and asked David about the bathroom. He said he didn't think it was in the building. Of course. So I go back downstairs and outside. I walked around the school, checking different buildings to see if they are locked or not. I found some old abandoned building that looked like the baseball team used it as a locker room or something. No one was there, so I walked in, down the creaky hallway and found a bathroom. Hooray! Finally I can go! 

No, it was too soon, as I noticed the urinals on the right side. I glanced over my shoulder. No boys around. I'm sure it's fine. Not like I haven't done this before. However, none of the stalls had toilet paper. UGH! Why!? I have to go!

So, walked back outside and did another loop. Walked back into the gym building and see my husband coming down the stairs. Phew, he can help me! I told David that I could not find the stupid bathroom anywhere. He, though was about to start his game and I believe was going to use the bathroom himself, ran back upstairs (what chivalry!) and asked where the ladies bathroom was. While he was gone, I was sort or staring off and around the building, as I do when I have nothing to do. A white and black sign caught my attention. It had the kanji for "women's bathroom" on it. Right in front of me, about five feet away, was a map for how to get there. How had I missed this map before? Then David appears and I laughed, pointing at the sign. "ha hahahaha! There's a map!" I said.

David smiled and then proceeded to point out the bathroom to me with a brief explanation. I head outside, once again, in search of my destination. It's been about 25 minutes now of me searching for the bathroom.

The women's bathroom is located in some "grounds building" between the baseball fields. At the time, the baseball team was playing in both fields. I walked along a dusty, dirt path, walking towards the first building, the one in which David said the bathroom was located. I passed a vending machine, but saw no bathroom, just a wall. No doors. Didn't he say the bathroom was here? 

So, I kept walking, thinking it must be the next building. Suddenly, to my right, a boy stops, takes off his hat, bows and says "konnichiwa." (hello) I reply in kind, embarrassed over the fact I'm searching for a bathroom amidst all these teenage boys. As I continued walking, a building in front of me looked very similar to a bathroom. That must be it! The closer I got, however, I saw urinals inside. My desperate line of thinking led me to believe that perhaps it was just turned into a women's bathroom from a men's. Now that I think about it, that really doesn't make sense, especially since it was quite open and there wasn't a lot of privacy.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to pee. I wanted to escape the line of vision of the teenage boys watching me peer into their bathroom. I turned back, thinking I needed to look at that stupid map again, and also thinking I was missing David's game. As I walked back, suddenly, boy after boy on either side of me stopped, turned, took off their hats, bowing and saying "konnichiwa." One boy yelled, "hello!" I replied to all them, thinking, AHH! I'm being ambushed! I just need to pee for crying out loud! Stop looking at me! Wait, maybe I can ask them where the bathroom is? 

I'm sure you were hoping I would ask a bunch of teenage boys where the women's bathroom was. No, sorry, can't give you that satisfaction. However, as I walked faster to escape the chorus of konnichiwa-ing going on, the vending machine came into view. Almost instantly, my eyes dart to the universal symbol for "woman," in red, on a small door, almost behind the vending machine. I almost did a dance, or exclaimed my relief. I could finally pee!!!

Yes, that weekend was full of excitement, and nothing out of the ordinary for my so-called "normal" life.

On that note, a final confession. Due to the length of time it is taking me to get over this, and all that we've put my school through, who have bent over backwards to accommodate me and this illness, we decided, after meeting with my school, that it would best if I quit and let someone new come in April. We had to make this decision a couple weeks ago, so they could have time to get a new person for the start of the new school year. Though, I'm sure I'll be fine by April (hopefully), due to the fact that I still have bad days sometimes, I felt it would be too much of a risk for them, and ultimately unfair that the students have not had an ALT for months now. David and I think it was the best decision for all the concerned parties, and so, as of now, I am no longer teaching at Shimada High School. In the meantime, as I recover to 100%, I'll be working on writing, blogging and web stuff, and we'll see what kind of work opportunities come up after that.

Spring symbolizes the new, coming to life, and transformation. In Japan, much of the culture revolves around the Springtime changes, such as a new school year starting in April. So, this year, Spring represents a lot more than in many seasons past. We'll see what kind of change will come in the near (and far) future. For now, I'll enjoy Spring's beginning.

My Dough Kids and Children of the World

Though this isn't a food blog, I've been moved to write about my recent experiences baking and cooking. Particularly, the truffles I made for myself for Valentine's Day and the sourdough starter I've been working on. I attempted to revive a pre-made starter I bought from a natural foods store here, and yet that failed quite miserably. You see, these starters seem to be rather fickle, and from what I've read online, sourdough starters seem to have their cult following. People argue fervently over the best method to begin one, sounding something like the digs hurled between ardent Mac and PC users. Some say you need to start with pineapple juice or grapes, other argue this is ridiculous. Some say you need to keep it at a warm temperature, while others retort that people have been making sourdough starters for centuries without temperature control. Some swear by starting with sterilized utensils and containers, and yet others refute that this is unecessary. Don't use metal bowls; don't use metal spoons; metal spoons are ok; five days is long enough; No, seven days is required; feeding every 8 hours is best; No, every 12; No, every 24; use 1-1 ratio flour-water; No, equal grams ratio; Use only spring water!; Filtered tap is OK.

With all this mish-mash I was puzzled how to start my starters, after the failure of the first attempt. So, I sort of compiled the various ideas and threw some whole wheat flour and water in my rice cooker. I figured at least, this would keep it warm, though it's a metal interior. That attempt died quickly, as the rice cooker baked the starter (it was on "keep warm"!!!). So, I added more and this time alternated turning on and off the rice cooker to gently heat the starter, opening the lid often to check on it. I soon named him Bubbly, as the bubbles appearing were a brilliant sign. After a couple days of successful survival, I took some of Bubbly and put it in a jar to create Bubbly Jr, and popped Jr in the oven.

In any case, it is now day 6 and both Bubbly and Bubbly Jr are still alive and kicking. I've just been feeding them every 12 hours, making sure they have air, and keeping them somewhat warm in the oven now. I didn't need pineapple or grapes, and used bottled water, and so far so good. I'm waiting for them to double in size today to see if they are up to snuff yet for some sourdough English muffins...

And now, apparently, they are like children. I talk to them often and say things like "time for dinner" and "time for bed" as David looks at me confused, thinking I am speaking to him. I've become one of the crazed sourdough starter-obsessed people I read about on the internet... They even have NAMES. Alas.

On a less entertaining note, lately, I've become wrapped up in reading real-life, rather horrific yet illuminating stories of world events. The current one, I felt I should share with you, and as heart-wrenching as it is, I haven't been able to put it down. Nothing to Envy by Barbara Demick. This journalist interviewed several Koreans who defected from the North. The book chronicles their lives and experiences in the years since World War II (with some brief history of how North and South Korea became divided in the first place and how North Korea's dictators came to power). Though I've yet to finish, I would strongly recommend reading this book.

Another few books that have moved me (and David) recently: Dreams and Shadows, a brief historical and present day overview of various countries in the Middle East and where they may be heading in the future; Columbine, a look into the events leading up to, during and following the Columbine High School massacre; and Iran Awakening, a memoir written by Nobel Peace Prize winner Shirin Ebadi pertaining to the Islamic Revolution in Iran, events surrounding, and consequences.

Each of these books offer unique perspectives and though some may be limited to certain people's viewpoints, they at least provide deeper insight into cultures less understood by many (such as the Middle East and North Korea). Reading books like these reminds me just how important education is. Especially in the West, we lack a certain amount of education about cultures that aren't directly related to the development of the West. I never learned about the history of China in elementary, middle or high school, for example, and China is one of the ancient cultures. Though World War II is taught multiple times through one's basic education, the events pertaining to Southeast Asia (Japan, China, Korea, etc) aren't mentioned unless related to the US (such as Pearl Harbor or the nuclear bombings).

My point is that we gain a better understanding of situations and cultures when we can look at the entire picture, the all-encompassing context. I realize this can be difficult to teach to youth in history, but unless students seek it out in higher education, many go without ever knowing. For example, after I took a Southeast Asian history class at WSU while finishing my degree, I realized the events pertaining to World War II were more complex than simply Western conflict and Germany and Japan joining forces. Earlier on when I did Running Start in high school, I remember debating and discussing with classmates over the nuclear bombings in Japan. We discussed the pros and cons, how horrific we thought it was that any country would use a nuclear bomb on another, but also that Japan wouldn't have likely surrendered otherwise. Now, after I've learned more about Japan's attempt to take over Southeast Asia, the war crimes in China and Korea, it illuminates the situation more in its entirety, and as such, can sway people's thoughts towards events one way or another.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to paint Japan as horrible, and anyone who already knows this history will understand. Many countries in the world have done horrible things, to each other and to their own people. No one is exempt from wearing that kind of shame. And yet, countries and their cultures all have their good points too. Granted, it's hard to see that in a place like North Korea, what good really comes out of the country? Hard for the people to preserve their own culture when their daily lives revolve around survival. Yes, other countries also experience this as well... and so it makes me more inspired that those countries attempting to survive can yet find joy in it. Or love.

I'm also reminded of the call to action, to care for our planet, for people. So I ask that you all remember and remind others to advocate for our planet, and to advocate for those who don't have voices. One of the softest spots I have is for youth. There are many who are in need, physical need as well as emotional need. We all are aware of the countries and places where the children are starving, diseased and often orphaned. Sometimes there isn't a whole lot we can do about that, but remember there are children around you every day who need someone in their life. They may have their physical needs met, but so many have deep emotional needs as well. As I mentioned this to David yesterday, I stated that it is easy to remember the images we see on TV and donate money, or to adopt a foreign child, or anything else to help children in need. This is incredibly important, and yet, I finished, there are children who are dying from emotional neediness. No matter how you look at it, people are in need everywhere.

Now that I've been on the soapbox, I should just reiterate that I'm not trying to preach to anyone or be negative in any way. I simply felt it strongly in my heart this morning to write my advocacy. I applaud those who do the best they can to help others, not only children, but adults as well - or to make a difference in the world somehow. Thank you for that. You never know how much you may help someone you reach out to, even just a friendly hello - cliched though that is, people ultimately just need to know they matter to someone - anyone.

The Kitchen and I

What constitutes a successful day for you? Accomplishing something big at work or school (or both)? Eating three healthy meals? Completing a to-do list? I certainly agree with all of these things, and am sure you all have your own "successful day" indicator. While a successful day for me fluctuates, depending on what I'm currently involved in or the status of my life, lately these successful days equal completing various household tasks. My energy is coming back bit by bit, my second cold waning (though not this forceful cough) and my motivation to get our apartment back in order runs high.

Now is Wednesday evening. Tuesday I slaved away at our kitchen floor, scrubbing a few month's worth of crap and grime. I alternated mopping and vacuuming, until the floor shined in only a way dull hardwood can. My next task involved clearing off the dining table. From one end to the other, the fact that it was indeed a table was hard to recognize. After another hour of putting away, throwing away, cleaning and again, vacuuming, the table shone in all its black-brown glory. I smiled with the greatest sense of self-satisfaction as I admired the clean kitchen. I willed the kitchen at that moment to stay clean for at least a month.

Of course, later on, as David was working on our muffin pizzas, carrying them to the oven, he suddenly makes a noise as if in trouble. I glance up from my cooking and run over to help. SPLAT! Too late. A muffin met its fate on the newly cleaned floor. I wasn't sure what to cry over, the lost homemade muffin, or the sauce and cheese splattered on the FLOOR. In the end, I think my attachment to the floor won out. David was nice enough to clean it up though.

So ever since this cleaning spree, I vacuum the floor a couple times a day and wipe up spills almost immediately. Did I mention, that our apartment is a dust-magnet? I have no idea where it comes from. No matter how often I vacuum, it never lasts very long! Curses dust. Curses to you.

Uh.... anyway. So since yesterday was cleaning day, today was cooking/baking day. After David's sudden declaration he was going to make pancakes this morning, I mixed up a batch. Lunch was meatloaf I baked up last night. I wanted to make roasted potatoes, with these special potatoes I have never tried before. (Never seen them in the States). So, I cut them per the usual, seasoned them and tossed them in the oven. My taste test 20 minutes later led me to a burning, coppery mouth. Me in the kitchen, spitting it all out, rinsing out my mouth with water. What kind of potatoes ARE these? What if they are poisonous? What if I'm allergic? I was sure my face would puff up any instant, and so I brushed my teeth. As if that could really help...

David walks in for lunch to see me brushing my mouth out like mad.

"Something is wrong with those potatoes!" I asserted.

David pops a piece in his mouth and says he doesn't notice anything.

"My mouth is BURNING," I insist. "You don't feel anything???"

"Nope."

Figures.

Then I obsessively scrubbed the cutting board I cut them up on... so they wouldn't poison me some other way.

What else did I try today? Lately I have been experimenting making whole wheat English muffins. I've actually never made English muffins before, so it has definitely been trial and some error. However, the second batch came out quite nice. Fluffy, wheaty, full of air pockets you expect in any good bread. Yum.

Just the other day I made these scrumptious peanut butter cookies.

And cinnamon buns:

If only I had a picture of those English muffins... but, some other time perhaps. Now, the evening is winding down and off to bed I go.  (Well, after I've had to edit the stupid html ten times to make the pictures stop messing with the text.) Tomorrow is a new day - and a day that will most likely not involve any time in the kitchen, cooking or cleaning.