Smell is said to be the sense that’s most closely linked to memory and I always affirm this statement when I run across a random scent and have a strong memory come to mind. Whenever I smell heavy traffic fumes, I remember Indonesia and the crowded, dirty air. When I smell freshly cut grass, I remember Mr. Mitchell’s yard and all the summer days I spent there with the lawn mower. And when I smell fresh laundry that’s tumbled in the dryer with Bounce, I remember home.
All the years I lived at home, my mom did my laundry and the years I was at college and returned home to visit, my mom would do my laundry. The fresh smell of clothes dried with Bounce dryer sheets is a smell that I associate with comfort and home and I didn’t realize this until a few months ago when I received a box from home. The box contained my winter clothes and the instant I cut through the heavy tape and tore open the cardboard, I had a rush of that clean smell that threw me back into my memories. Holding up a shirt to my face and inhaling the Bounce fragrance took me back to my house in Raleigh with my little dog running around and my mom close by drinking her afternoon coffee. A tear or two filled me eyes and I was surprised at home much the scent meant to me. Clothes dryers aren’t common in Japan, so I never use dryer sheets, and thus I never experience the Bounce smell. All the clothes I’ve brought with me have lost their Bounce freshness through wear and wash and only the new box of clothes carried the signature of mom’s love.
Since then, my sister has sent me a box of Bounce for me to use in a variety of ways (you’d be amazed at home many uses dryer sheets have). Mostly, I just tuck them in between my clothes so they smell nice when I put them on. Fresh clothes and a memory of home…
This brings me to my next topic and BIG ANNOUNCEMENT. While I love home and all the smells that are associated with the people and places there, I’ve decided to stay on in Japan for a second year. My original contract runs from July 2005 to July 2006, but now I’m re-contracting to stay until July 2007. This decision was reached after months of thought, prayer, and discussion. Basically, I’ve begun to build a life here and am enjoying my time in Japan. I have a job and a home and lots of interesting things to experience. I feel like the most sensible thing to do is stay…to continue to explore, grow, and learn.
So now everyone back home has more time to plan trips to come visit me! Kaiten sushi and onsens are only an ocean away!
Saturday, January 28, 2006
Friday, January 20, 2006
Six Months of Food
To celebrate my six month mark here in Japan, I’m posting various pictures of the kinds of food I’ve been eating. For folks in Japan, enjoy these familiar images…and everyone back home, be amazed!
Sushi, my first meal and first picture in Japan (Tokyo, July 2005)
Yakitori, chicken on a stick, festival food (Ajimu, August 2005)
Japanese curry, one of Stephron's favorites (Usa, September 2005)
Anpan, sweet bean paste inside bread, my obsession in September and October (Hiroshima, September 2005)
Pretty average breakfast at a youth hostel (Osaka, December 2005)
Japanese dinner complete with raw fish and beer (Ferry ride from Beppu to Osaka, December 2005)
Okonomiyaki, meat and veggies mixed with batter to create a pancake-like thing. I made it myself (Usa, January 2006)
Takoyaki, fried octopus with mayonnaise, festival food (Ajimu, November 2005)
Shojin Ryoori, Buddhist monk food at Koyasan, vegetarian (Koyasan, December 2005)
The meal I made at my cooking class, difficult experience, the instructor kept saying "dame" to me (that means "don't") (Nakatsu, November 2005)
Dessert, made with green tea and bean paste (Usa, January 2006)
Japanese food is wonderful and one of my favorite parts about living here...that and all the ninjas I get to fight on the way to school.
Sushi, my first meal and first picture in Japan (Tokyo, July 2005)
Yakitori, chicken on a stick, festival food (Ajimu, August 2005)
Japanese curry, one of Stephron's favorites (Usa, September 2005)
Anpan, sweet bean paste inside bread, my obsession in September and October (Hiroshima, September 2005)
Pretty average breakfast at a youth hostel (Osaka, December 2005)
Japanese dinner complete with raw fish and beer (Ferry ride from Beppu to Osaka, December 2005)
Okonomiyaki, meat and veggies mixed with batter to create a pancake-like thing. I made it myself (Usa, January 2006)
Takoyaki, fried octopus with mayonnaise, festival food (Ajimu, November 2005)
Shojin Ryoori, Buddhist monk food at Koyasan, vegetarian (Koyasan, December 2005)
The meal I made at my cooking class, difficult experience, the instructor kept saying "dame" to me (that means "don't") (Nakatsu, November 2005)
Dessert, made with green tea and bean paste (Usa, January 2006)
Japanese food is wonderful and one of my favorite parts about living here...that and all the ninjas I get to fight on the way to school.
Saturday, January 14, 2006
Sumo and Billiards
I’ve come to realize that if I want something to write about here in Japan, all I have to do is walk out my front door and turn left. Going straight runs me into a wall and if I turn right I’ll just walk into the back of my apartment building where a dilapidated bike sits among torn spider webs and withering weeds (more of summer place for writing inspiration).
The other night, Tuesday, I went out with some friends to play “biriyaado”. My friend, a 30-something guy with fatigue constantly battling his eyes and a light smell of cigarette smoke on his suit, asked me to play and while at first I didn’t know what “biriyaado” was, I soon learned through a round of “mime the word” that he meant billiards.
A half week later I found myself in a large van with three other Nihonjin, two of them being former sumo wrestlers. These men are massive and fortunately have friendly personalities to match their girth. Big smiles, big bellies, and lots of questions about my dating life greeted me when I arrived to meet them. They asked me if I like “playing women” and then told me that one of them “played his girlfriend three time” when she visited last. I smiled and laughed a little and then got into the van and off we went.
The billiards hall, located somewhere along a dark, rice field-lined road, had five pool tables and was dominated by a rough, thrown-together 1950’s American theme. Elvis was singing through the mounted speakers while posters of the King adorned the wood-paneled walls. Marilyn Monroe’s generous smile sat over the slot machines and James Dean took up position near the electronic dart board. Various paintings of vintage cars hung beside the front counter and an old metal relic with “Coca-Cola” across the front led the way to the bathroom. The place was perfect and I actually enjoyed listening to Elvis while I played my way to fourth place in our pool tournament.
Afterwards, the six of us went to Joyfull, the “western” style family restaurant, to eat dinner…at 10:30 at night. When I told them I usually go to bed at 10:30, they gasped and apologized for keeping me out so late. I shrugged and assured them that hanging with them was more important than sleep. When the waitress arrived, I caused them to gasp again when I confidently ordered my food in Japanese. Then, when the food came, I caused one guy to nearly pass out when I successfully took a bite of karage with a pair of chopsticks! They were amazed!
The night ended afterwards and my friends said we should “play” bowling next time. I agreed and felt good that I had been welcomed by this group of moderately young, unmarried Japanese men. They’re all eager to hang out and speak with me—even when the communication is pretty rough with a mix of bad English and bad Japanese.
The other night, Tuesday, I went out with some friends to play “biriyaado”. My friend, a 30-something guy with fatigue constantly battling his eyes and a light smell of cigarette smoke on his suit, asked me to play and while at first I didn’t know what “biriyaado” was, I soon learned through a round of “mime the word” that he meant billiards.
A half week later I found myself in a large van with three other Nihonjin, two of them being former sumo wrestlers. These men are massive and fortunately have friendly personalities to match their girth. Big smiles, big bellies, and lots of questions about my dating life greeted me when I arrived to meet them. They asked me if I like “playing women” and then told me that one of them “played his girlfriend three time” when she visited last. I smiled and laughed a little and then got into the van and off we went.
The billiards hall, located somewhere along a dark, rice field-lined road, had five pool tables and was dominated by a rough, thrown-together 1950’s American theme. Elvis was singing through the mounted speakers while posters of the King adorned the wood-paneled walls. Marilyn Monroe’s generous smile sat over the slot machines and James Dean took up position near the electronic dart board. Various paintings of vintage cars hung beside the front counter and an old metal relic with “Coca-Cola” across the front led the way to the bathroom. The place was perfect and I actually enjoyed listening to Elvis while I played my way to fourth place in our pool tournament.
Afterwards, the six of us went to Joyfull, the “western” style family restaurant, to eat dinner…at 10:30 at night. When I told them I usually go to bed at 10:30, they gasped and apologized for keeping me out so late. I shrugged and assured them that hanging with them was more important than sleep. When the waitress arrived, I caused them to gasp again when I confidently ordered my food in Japanese. Then, when the food came, I caused one guy to nearly pass out when I successfully took a bite of karage with a pair of chopsticks! They were amazed!
The night ended afterwards and my friends said we should “play” bowling next time. I agreed and felt good that I had been welcomed by this group of moderately young, unmarried Japanese men. They’re all eager to hang out and speak with me—even when the communication is pretty rough with a mix of bad English and bad Japanese.
Friday, January 06, 2006
New Year’s as told in several pictures and self-portraits
The night begins, 8:03PM
Dinner with friends, 8:44PM
Final fiery moments of 2005, 11:57PM
First corndog of 2006, 1:02AM
The man who provided the first corndog of 2006, 1:03AM
Wait, that's no moon, 1:30AM
Post Shrine celebration, 3:17AM
First waaay too early morning of 2006, something-early-o'clock am
Don't worry, my hair doesn't look like this all the time.
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