the art of summer, pigeon courtship and riding a mama-chari

So, what's happened in the past month? What is happening in the daily Japanese life of me?

Well, Spring warmed up. A lot. As in, straight to mid/upper 70's (mid 20's in Celsius). David (my husband) and I basked in sunshine over Golden Week, at a BBQ, Wisteria Festival, Shimada Central Park, and the various other places we found ourselves. My translucent-looking skin finally met the sun again, and they reminisced as usual, without the redness. And just before Golden Week, I got a part-time job, teaching English and going to English type events (where they want a native speaker). It's a great opportunity, flexible hours and schedule, and a good way to continue interacting with kids and adults, as I had to quit JET a few months ago.

Then, during Golden Week, another part-time job fell into my lap. This one has to do with a website known as expatwomen.com. This also is a fantastic opportunity, and ironic it just appeared. For anyone trying to market themselves, get on Twitter. Do it.

Though the cherry blossoms are now gone, the wisteria were in full bloom during Golden Week, and we managed to experience them on the last day of the Wisteria Festival in Fujieda.

Their appearance is akin to rain, though flowers, just draping themselves over support structures. People can walk underneath them, and how magical it is.

Wisteria soft cream was also served during the festival, which I tried before (it is rather hard to explain the taste of floral ice cream), but as we went again on the last day of the festival, they were already sold out.

After two quick days between Golden Week and the weekend, David and I hopped on the train straight down to the peninsula in Aichi prefecture, next to Shizuoka. We stayed at a hotel on a cliff in Irago, overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The view was gorgeous, and the onsen/spa at the hotel was quite new and modern, with giant windows overlooking the best view, including one large outdoor bath that looks like an infinity pool. Our first night, I sat in the outdoor bath, watching the sunset.

When I was planning this trip, my goal was to find a decent, affordable hotel, with private baths and possibly a beach. (Or mountains, but all those hotels were booked already). Usually, I check a map and make sure there are things like food and a convenience store (conbini) near by. However, when I looked at the map, it seemed as if these things were near enough to the hotel, and David and I could just use the rental bicycles to get to such places.

After our buffet breakfast Saturday morning, we went out to get our rental bikes, otherwise known as mama-chari. I've never ridden a mama-chari before, but at least my bike had a 3-speed gear, though we never did figure out how it worked. It also had a bell, as typical, and since my cross bike doesn't have a bell, I happily began dinging it while trying to stay in a straight line on the bulky granny bike that was so much harder to control. David, ended up with a bike with no gears, an older model, and looked somewhat like a man trying to ride a kid's bike, because of the bike's small size. So, he glared, and I dinged the bell repeatedly and laughed, as we went flying down the hill from the hotel (my mind did not yet realize we would have to come back UP this hill).

We went down the main path and continued on a road, surrounded by farms, wind power generators, and more farms. Lynden, Washington instantly came to mind, as I had not yet seen so many farms in one place in Japan. The smell of manure was much more apparent, and we even rode past a cow barn, something I rarely see here. The bike ride continued for another 25-30 minutes, when David mentioned something about having biked five kilometers. We were both quite tired of constantly pedaling on our mama-chari, moving three times slower than accustomed to on our "real" bikes. So before we got anywhere near "town" as I had hoped we'd get to, for food, we stopped at a conbini for some snacks (and though I had a feeling we should buy some food for lunch, pushed it aside thinking we could surely find food elsewhere). Then, back we went, into the wind and stink of manure, ducking the giant flying bugs, toward the beach.

Eventually we made it there, tired, but since there wasn't much around, continued on to the ferry terminal, where there were supposedly restaurants. Only a few, and nothing really good stood out, and I commented that all I wanted was some soba. After infiltrating a fancy hotel, and checking out four other restaurants (all seafood of course), we decided the best idea would be to head back to the hotel. So after biking for a couple hours, on our slow bikes, and without food other than chocolate almonds and iced tea, we pedaled back towards the hotel, stopping and pushing our bikes up hill most of the way. Finally, we reached the hill to the hotel, where I thought about collapsing on the ground and crying in hopes that someone would take pity on me and give me a ride up the blasted thing. Well, David was already far ahead of me so I just followed, slowing with each step, contemplating thoughts of shoving my bike over an edge, or falling down, because then someone would probably stop. Nearing the top, sweating, and lightheaded, anger welled inside me. No, rage. I hate this bike. I hate this hill. Why can't they just have an elevator or escalator for bikes? Do people really do this very often? And, where is David?

He had disappeared, already at the top, waiting for me. I shuffled my way there, barely conscious, and collapsed in tears when we got to our room. Lack of food, you know. So we ate at the cafe in the hotel, for the second time. Fried potatoes made it better.

Our hotel was at the top of this hill:

Then, though I never wanted to come up the hill again, we went to the beach that was closer to the hotel. We played in the sand and waves and had a photoshoot. And, spied on a couple walking along the beach, holding hands. When they thought no one was looking, the guy leaned over and kissed the girl, and I commented about how romantic and strange that is, since Japanese don't usually show PDA, except in some cases where they show too much... David just rolled his eyes.

Oh, the beach, how I wished to spend my entire day there, but could not because of our 50-mile (80 km) bike ride.

Well, it felt like 50 miles.

I also taught David how to take portraits. He caught on pretty quick:

Then, after a quick jaunt to the lighthouse, back to the hotel. Though, David pushed my bike up this time, while I balanced it. So chivalrous.

I should note that, during the time between dinner (at the cafe, again...) and when we got back, I observed the pigeons out our window that had been there most of the day. This compelled me to research pigeon mating rituals, since it is spring after all, and one sat with its behind against the wall for the better part of the day, cooing and growling. Although, the noises escalated when the other bird was gone, seemingly trying to get attention. The other one mostly hopped around the ledge, or flew back every time the one making noise grew more upset. Codependent bird. Throughout this ordeal, I once sneaked a glance at them nuzzling each other with their beaks. David, somehow, napped through most of this. If anyone knows the noises pigeons make when they court, please let me know.


I think this one was trying to decide what to do about his/her growling/cooing friend. Or perhaps rethinking his/her decision to commit to said co-dependent bird.

And that, mostly sums up our weekend. Though I've left out the sickening bus rides to and from the hotel to the train station, or the small children that women bring into the onsen and jump around as if in some water park, splashing you in the face when you're just trying to relax.

So now, it's back to real life, and back to being a working girl again.

kitchen mishaps, triumphs and summer dreams

Am I in Washington? It sure feels like it. This incessant rain that allows only irregular sun breaks, and even with those sun breaks we still get cold and wind gusts. The cherry blossoms should say otherwise - that it should be warm and sunny and spring-like, but, it isn't. Perhaps I'm hoping for too much, considering it is only March, albeit the end of March. I've had enough of winter though. The cold, the dark, the unusual rain, being sick and inside... Instead I dream of exotic beach vacations and summer skirts and sandals, reminding myself that one day soon I'll be able to walk in the warm sunshine, soaking up as much as possible before the next winter. (Don't let that picture to the left fool you, that was one sunny day out of many rainy ones...)

Then I remember, the awful sunburns I got last summer despite using 65SPF sunscreen, the ones that still mark certain parts of my skin. Or the incessant humidity that leaves one with bladder infections, frizzed out hair and an oily face. Or, the mosquitoes - the blasted bugs that infiltrate my living space and steal my blood late at night, consequently leading to sleepless nights. Oh yes, and the shrieking bugs that resemble giant beetles that enjoy serenading the world at an ungodly hour of the morning since Japan does not believe in daylight savings time, also causing sleepless nights. Curse you, cicadas. I digress.

Now that I think about it, maybe summer isn't as dreamy as I thought... Perhaps I'll be wishing for winter again come August. For now though, I anticipate the warmer months.

Today was another one of those rainy days. Rain that blows sideways and upside down and every which way possible. It is such that, even though I was thoroughly bundled from head to toe, even outfitted with waterproof shoe covers that come up to my shins, and a raincoat that just allows my eyes to peek out, I still get wet. So, upon returning home from errands in the erratic rain, I decided today was definitely a curry day.

So around 5, I get the onions chopped and sauteing on the stove, whilst I mince garlic and ginger and gather the rest of my ingredients from around the kitchen. I'll take a brief tangent here to say that the past week I have begun spring cleaning, which includes organizing and trying to get our apartment more in order. Things are coming together slowly but surely, and maybe one day soon after I get more done and we can actually make some more purchases, I'll be able to share pictures of our place.

Back to curry. The onions are caramelizing and so I throw in the ginger and garlic, and then follow with water, stock, a bay leaf and star anise. That simmers nicely as the flavors amalgamate. About an hour later I get the still-somewhat-frozen chicken in the pot as David returns soaking wet from playing with children. Since the chicken was so cold, I turned the stove up and put the lid back on to get everything heated quickly without allowing bacteria or anything to form. Well, as I got caught up in talking with David per usual end-of-the-day conversations, I completely forgot I had left the burner on high, and sat down to read some food blogs while I "waited" for the chicken to "slowly" cook.

Maybe 20 or so minutes later I heard a sound like perhaps the water was boiling over, and rushed to the stove, where, in dismay, I realized I had left the stove on high, and when I nearly burned my hand taking off the lid, felt my stomach drop at the sight of the scorched pot, a pile of chicken in the middle... and the broth completely evaporated. What else could I do? I started crying, then burned my hand (on accident). It is silly isn't it, since it's not like we can't make curry still, and David comforted me and told me it was ok. I felt utterly stupid for forgetting about the stove, and just stupid that though I started dinner about two hours earlier, I'd have to start over again. So I did, and David thoughtfully cleaned out the pot for me. Although, from there on out, I kept dropping things and having issues all around, which eventually led me to collapse on the floor in laughter. It was all too ridiculous, how could I not laugh?

The curry turned out fine as usual, though slightly different than if it had been cooked much longer. Nonetheless, still delicious.

Although, despite the curry issues, the granola I got in the oven to slowly bake turned out beautiful. I threw some together a few days ago and made some more since David and I already downed most of my first batch. I hoped it would be a cheaper (and tastier) way to do breakfast, instead of buying bags of pre-made granola. The first batch included wonderfully roasted walnuts with oats, cinnamon, cloves and cardamom, mixed up with maple syrup and baked at a low temperature for 50 minutes. The second batch included almonds instead of walnuts. Thankfully, I recently found a retailer here who sells bulk spices, herbs, dried nuts and fruits, so I ordered some nuts and seeds to bulk up our granola a bit for next time.

The sourdough starter was also put to good use this past weekend as I made pizza dough out of it, which we used to make BBQ chicken and Thai chicken pizzas.

All in all, more good food despite my curry mishap. And the week is only half over.