One expensive backpack

The time had finally come to make the big purchase.  A friend told me about a very nice shop in town having a sale.  My family got out of the house bright and early to catch the train to Ikebukuro.  We had a bag to buy.

When 6 year old's head off to elementary school in Japan, they do it with a randoseru (ran-dough-se-rue) on their back.  

The shop opens at 10 am.  We arrived shortly after it opened and headed to the second floor.  That's where they put all the clearance randoseru at this store.  

First floor showroom

Second floor outlet

The pickings were slim, but that is how it is when you don't want to pay full price.  Downstairs there were randoseru that cost over ¥100,000/$900.  But upstairs we could get a deal.

After looking at what they had, my son picked a black randoseru with light blue accents.  It is traditional, with a touch of flair.  And my son likes it.  

My husband was relieved to pay only ¥40,000/$360.  It seems strange to be thankful for that, but when the original price is twice as much, you count your blessings where you can.  We appreciated the fact that the bag comes with a 6 year warranty and is top quality.  What we don't appreciate is that this is a required expense.  It would be nice to just buy a Jansport backpack, but it isn't done here.  

Baked good gratitute

Whenever I am invited to a potluck or something similar, I have always been the person that makes something.  When I was working in an office, I was "that person" that would bake and bring it in to share.  It has always brought me joy.

Over time, it has become the norm to bring something store bought to gatherings.  This isn't just a new norm in Japan, but in the US and many other countries as well.  But it isn't my style.  I rarely pick up a treat from the store to share, but it has been known to happen depending on my schedule.

When I pull out my container of deliciousness, it is always fun to see people's reactions.  My favorite thing about bringing something homemade to an event in Japan is the universal reaction of absolute surprise and gratitude.  My husband told me it is considered good manners in Japan to have this reaction.  I don't care where it comes from.  When I've taken the time to bake, it is wonderful to feel it is appreciated.

Today I attended the kindergarten parent's choir's New Years party.  It was basically the moms (no dads in the group) having lunch together.  After people finished their bento lunches, I pulled out a container of my homemade hojicha chocolate chip cookies.  They were met with amazement that I had made them myself, as well as rave reviews.

It has taken a lot of testing to get the recipe just right.  It makes me laugh to see the page of notes that I kept for reviews after each batch while getting the right balance of bitter tea leaves with sweet chocolate.  Notes about increasing this and reducing that, trying this method or that one based on reading various methods, helped me to figure it all out.  It also took me a while to get used to baking cookies in my little oven.  Not all ovens cook the same way!  After I don't know how long, I finally realized that I couldn't put dough in the corners of my baking sheet, because those don't bake as quickly as the rest of the oven.  So, I'd have a 7 cookies fully baked and 4 that were still raw in the middles!  Surrendering myself to having to bake more trays, but everything being done at the same time took some acceptance on my part.

I will continue to make these cookies and share them as often as I can.  After all, who doesn't like a little praise once in a while?

*******************

Hojicha Chocolate Chip Cookies*
makes 36 cookies

240 grams all purpose flour
1 tsp salt
1 tbsp hojicha (roasted green tea)
1 tsp baking soda
200 grams butter
88 grams white sugar
100 grams brown sugar
1 tsp vanilla
2 eggs
2 cups chocolate chips (Nestle or Ghirardelli, bittersweet or dark)
1 cup walnuts (toasted to bring out flavor)

1. Put flour, salt, and hojicha into the food processor (a coffee grinder works best, and a mortar and pestle is also great).  Process until fine and you don't see any large bits of tea leaves.
2. Add baking soda to flour mixture, lightly mix.
3. In a separate bowl, cream butter until smooth.
4. Add white sugar and mix until smooth.  Then add brown sugar and mix.
5. Beat in vanilla, then one egg at a time until combined.
6. Combine wet and dry ingredients.
7. Mix in chocolate chips and walnuts.
8. Bake 1 tbsp. balls of dough at 190°C/375°F for 9-11 minutes until no longer glossy on the top.
9. Let cool on the baking sheet for 3-5 minutes before transferring them to a cooling rack.

*Japanese butter comes in 200 gram packages, which is smaller than the American standard of 1 cup by almost 2 tablespoons (25 grams of butter is 1.8 tbsp).  If using American sized butter, increase the butter to 1 cup and increase flour to 270 grams or 2.25 cups.

Fear of doctors

Just imagine for a moment that you are having a medical emergency.  Chest pains.  A broken bone.  Whatever it is, you need medical attention and fast.  Then imagine that your doctor speaks another language and you can't convey what ails you beyond pointing and playing a guessing game.

Even when and if you are able to get your primary complaint taken care of, how do you ask questions?  How do you make sure you are doing the proper aftercare?  Do you need to go back for a follow up appointment?

Any time I even consider consulting a medical professional about anything, these questions come to mind.  It is a huge concern for me, to the point I have turned into the mom saying "be careful" repeatedly to my kid even though I used to say "trust your body" and "listen to yourself."

Of course, there are lots of medical professionals in Japan that do speak English.  But I don't always have knowledge of them.  And just because they report themselves as being able to speak English, doesn't always mean we can freely communicate.  When someone speaks to me in very hesitant English, I choose my words carefully.  I often have questions that go unanswered because I don't want to press them or make them feel even more uncomfortable than they already are.

I understand this is my problem and I just need to learn better Japanese.  But it is also a very valid fear.

I am always so grateful to find medical professionals that speak (even just a little) English.  And I am very, very lucky that my husband goes out of his way to help me out with taking me to doctors appointments whenever he can.

Nevertheless, I find myself procrastinating on making regular health checkup appointments based on this fear.  These appointments are all about communication and making sure everything is alright.  Since passing the two year mark of residency, I can no longer just wait for returning to America for complete checkups for me and my family.  But I want to be able to talk freely and ask about anything that comes to mind.

I'm fine if my husband has to take time off of work to take our son to the doctor.  After all, that is what I always did when I was a working mother.  It is part of the job description of a parent.  But, I don't want him to have to do the same thing for me.  It goes beyond my comfort zone of independence.

With enough research, I hope I am able to find a medical professional that I feel totally comfortable with for myself and my family.  Wish me luck.

ID before buying

Although they are becoming more and more rare, one can still find alcohol in vending machines every once in a great while.  When you do see one, you better not forget your id.  The machines in public places (not those on private property, like at resorts) have machines to check IDs.

Of course, it can't be just any ID.  It has to be a Japanese driver's license.  Finally, there is a reason for me to have a Japanese driver's license!  I knew there would be a reason for me to get it.

Mud in the winter

I have taken my son to the Nerima Children's Forest (better known as Kodomonomori) several times in the warmer months of the year.  But today we decided to see what it was like in the winter.  Truth be told, we are having an extremely mild winter.  In fact, I'm very nervous about next summer's bug population because it has been so warm!  So, it wasn't like we were heading out into the tundra for a bit of play time.  Today reached a high of 12°C/54°F.  So, we put on some layers and headed out the door.

My son, knowing the destination, was beside himself with joy.  He LOVES going to the mud park.  As soon as I parked my bike, my son hopped off and ran into the park.  He wanted to build something.  The staff gave him a box with hammers, saws, nails, and so forth.  He beat foot over to the construction area and went to town.  Will a little assistance from me with hammering, he built a bird house.

He was so proud of his birdhouse.  He wanted to put it to good use.  So, he took it over to a staff member.  They quickly agreed to put it up in a tree.  My son selected the tree and climbed right up (under my supervision) while the staff person grabbed some rope.  It made his heart soar to see his creation being put up for use in the tree.

As this was going on, it occurred to me that this was a place of "yes."  The staff listened to the kids and helped them to play and do things on their terms.  I've always heard this about mud parks, but to see it in action was great.

Up next, my son wanted to get into the mud.  With a look of determination, he went exploring.  The previous weekend, some elementary school children had dug huge holes in the packed mud.  It was almost as if the deep holes were calling his name.  Soon, he determined that he needed to dig a tunnel between two of the holes.  His mind was set.

He got to task and even roped in a couple other people into helping him.  For hours he dug and dug.  He demonstrated determination and focus that was admirable.  And, boy, did he get dirty!  But, of course, isn't that the point.

The mud park is a special place in winter.  It is a different version of magic for both kids and their parents.  There is so much creativity and space to explore and just be.  No rules of confinement or restrictions.  Just good old fashioned fun.

He eventually completed the tunnel.  The look of success and joy on his face was priceless.

He then spent the next half hour crawling through it again and again.  He invited lots of other kids to join in the joy.  Watching him made me so happy that we braved the mud and decided to get dirty.