Further and further we go

Several weeks ago, as we returned from a quick trip to Ikebukuro to pick up some ballet tights for our son, my bike started shaking and was increasingly hard to steer. After stopping to investigate, we realized several of the spokes on my rear wheel had broken resulting in an unbalanced wheel. I tried to limp back, but lost my nerve. With my son on the back, it was too intimidating to be so off kilter. So, my husband and I switched bikes and he rode our son back the rest of the way.

The next day we took my bike in to get the wheel repaired. A couple hours and around $80 later, my bike was back in working order. When we were wrapping everything up, the man who fixed the bike commented to my husband, “she doesn’t ride with him on the back anymore, does she?” referring to our son. He continued without either of us admitting to it. “If so, that’s why the wheel had to be fixed. He’s too big and should be riding his own bike.”

We knew this, of course. He’s getting to be too big to ride on the back of my bike. Since getting a new bike for his birthday, he generally rides his own. But, for long rides, like to Ikebukuro, I’ve still had him ride on the back of mine. The issue isn’t actually the riding. It is the mounting and dismounting. When a child climbs into a child seat on a bike, they tend to pull the bike hard and then put their weight on it, damaging the rear wheel. Bikes are built for even pressure.

Since having my bike repaired, we’ve been going on longer and longer bike rides on the weekends. We are working to build up his stamina. Of course, we haven’t really found an end to his boundless seven-year-old energy, but we prefer to build versus just going somewhere and getting stuck with a melting down child.

As usual, we tend to have destinations. Ride 3 km to a new lunch place or 5 km to a specific store and back. This past weekend, we had him ride 6.8 km (each way) for kakigori, or shaved ice. If there is sugar involved, this kid would ride 100 km! My husband, the dutiful researcher and captain of our weekend adventures, found a tea shop that freezes tea and makes shaved ice with it. As soon as he described it, I was eager to go.

The small shop, called Ooyamaen (oh-yah-ma-en) only has three flavors to choose from - green tea, strawberry (they freeze the berries in blocks of ice, like we do at home), and hojicha (roasted green tea). Since there are three of us, we ordered one of each. 

 

For sweetness, each pile of frozen treat was lightly graced with sweetened condensed milk. It was served with a small amount of syrup that was recommended to be poured on when half the mountain was devoured.

All three kakigori were light and had just the right amount of sweetness. They were very reminiscent of many Japanese sweets I’ve had over the years - meant to be eaten slowly and savored. I loved it, but it might not be considered a dessert to many westerners.

Once the weekend was over, the weather changed from a lovely warm temperate range to cool. It now feels officially like fall, including rain as a typhoon passes by us. While I’m overjoyed to be wearing a sweatshirt today, I’m also grateful we had one last summer treat to celebrate the autumn equinox and the official transition into one of my favorite seasons of the year. While we might not be riding far distances for frozen treats anymore, we’ll still be riding near and far exploring this crazy country and seeing what there is to see.

Coping from a distance

Whenever there is troublesome news from back home, it is a difficult pill to swallow. Whether the challenge is a loved one trying to cope with parenting, political angst, natural disasters, or scary news from the doctor, I am struck with feeling helpless.

These feelings are amplified with the realities of Covid. While I might feel the urge to rush back to the US to help my friends and family in their time of need or stress, I can’t do that right now. It is not as easy as just hopping on a plane and heading over. Now we have tightened border security and quarantines to maneuver. Japan has said that they are now letting permanent residents back into the country, after 6 months of only letting citizens back unless the resident had special permission, but I am still hesitant to trust this.  I know people, who know people, who got separated at immigration in the airport from their families because not everyone was a citizen.  The citizens were allowed to enter, but the residents were not.  

Not being able to be there physically brings a lot of guilt. I know my family and friends understand, but that doesn’t ease the burden of not being there.

While I may not be a doctor that can mend a patient, I can bring dinner and try to take some of the daily burdens off the shoulders of my loved ones as they go through this or that. Being there for people while living abroad means providing a listening ear, but not a shoulder to cry on. If people aren’t ready to talk, that can be hard.

On the flip side, I am guilty of holding a lot back because I understand that I’m not the only one going through this quandary. I don’t want to share my heartache across an ocean. But there it is, eating away at my resolve. I sometimes cry or overreact to the weirdest things simply because I don’t want to be completely transparent about what is really going on.

Recently, my dad was diagnosed with a terminal illness that will fully reveal itself within the next 2 to 5 years. I want nothing more than to jump on a plane and spend some time with him as well as help my stepmom out while she tries to figure out which way is up in the whirlwind of chaos they are currently traversing. As I try to wrap my mind around it, I pretend everything is fine all day, then fret about it all night and get very little sleep. I just want to scream “what should I do?” If I was in the US, we could all scream it together. But I’m here, not there.

These feelings are something that I had not thought about when considering moving here.  Of course, if we always thought of the worst, many of us would be paralyzed, never willing to go and explore purely out of fear.  And, frankly, I don't want to live my life in fear.  I love trying new things and exploring new places.  And none of us could have predicted a pandemic that would stop the world in its tracks.  

I am lucky in the fact that I live in a time of video-calling, where I can connect with friends and family visually, as well as auditorily.  It isn't the same thing as being able to hug them, hold them, and cook them food, but it is better than letter writing (of which I am a huge fan).  

As I try to cope with the immense emotions I am feeling these days, I am extremely grateful to the shrines and temples that I go to for peaceful reflection.  I have started walking with my husband several mornings a week to our local shrine, both for a bit of exercise and as a way to clear my head.  With a four day weekend upon us (recognizing 2 national holidays - Respect for the Aged Day and Autumn Equinox), I hope to bike to some shrines and temples.  It is not the same as feeling the warm embrace of a loved one, but it is helpful.

Dance baby dance

My son is loving his ballet class. He finds joy in dancing and working as a team. He calls all the girls he dances with his "princesses" and looks forward to helping them and dancing together.

He's had one pain point regarding ballet. He was scheduled to have his first recital back in April, but it was cancelled due to Covid. My son loves to perform. So, not being able to show off his dance skills in front of an audience has been missed.

It took some time, but they eventually rescheduled the recital. After months of waiting, it was time to finally show off his skills. The ballet school rented a theater in downtown Nerima. The costume rentals were ordered. The kids were well rehearsed and ready to go. We just needed to get our son to the final rehearsal and performance.

As the day neared, we realized that the weather was not going to cooperate. It was forecast to rain during the commute times. Part of not owning a car is knowing that sometimes you must get from point a to point b in less than ideal conditions. Typically, we don't mind riding our bikes in the rain. However, when you are transporting costumes and so forth, rain is not your friend. Add to that the knowledge that rain in Tokyo in September is never a sprinkle. The rain comes fast, furious, and heavy this time of year.

After a bit of humming and hawing, we decided that we were ready to take the train. It would be a short commute of only 3 stations. We have not been on any trains since March! That is 6 months! As a car-free family - that is huge! It was a bit nerve-wracking, but we were up for the challenge.

When the morning of the rehearsal arrived, we gathered everything up and headed to the train. Luckily, we needed to go to the performance hall shortly before lunch. It is lucky because trains are much less crowded between 10 and 2, especially compared to the morning or evening rushes. While the train was not crowded whatsoever, I did notice people were keeping their distance by leaving seats between groups of people. I have heard that this is not the case for crowded commute trains, but when we were on the train people were properly socially distanced.

I also notice right away that the train was loud. Reminiscent of my dad's favorite "2-55 air conditioning" (two windows rolled down going 55 miles per hour down the freeway), all the windows were open creating a deafening background buzz. Since the Oedo Line is underground, it is really, really noisy. Luckily, we didn't have to suffer for long.

Our son went through his rehearsal while we grabbed a cup of tea at a nearby café. Then we headed back home on the train, once again.

The next day, we decided to take a taxi to the performance. Grateful my son has transitioned to a booster seat, the trip to the performing arts center was super easy. As we rode through a heavy rain, we were grateful for the option of not even having to walk to the train station carrying everything.

The ballet recital was fantastic. The kids had a great time dancing in front of an audience. I could see the pride on my son's face from our seats 8 rows back, especially as he held out his arm to guide his princesses around and jump with the gracefulness of a seven year old.

When I asked him later to define his first ballet performance he declared it was "fun" and he couldn't wait for the next one.

Lunch date

My husband has worked from home off and on for years. It has been a great thing for us because he has been more available for our family. Without a commute, he gets to spend an extra 2 hours each day with us. If we have a meeting at the school, my husband has to take less time off from work.

Since we are so experienced in him working from home, we worked out a lot of kinks a long time ago. Specifically, we have a door hanger that tells everyone in the house when my husband cannot be disturbed and we talk about when important meeting will take place so we don't make too much noise.

One of my favorite things about him working from home is having lunch together. Usually we are digging for leftovers in the fridge, but every once in a while we sneak out for an actual lunch date.

I especially like when he finds a new-to-us restaurant. Yamadaya is a tiny family restaurant that my husband recently discovered. He had been wanting to go, but every time we tried, the six tables were already occupied. It doesn't help that there are huge red x's on every other seat, but that is just how it is these days.

One day we decided it would behoove us to wait the few minutes for a table to open up. We didn't have to wait long before we were pointed to a tiny two seater table near the wall. The inside of the restaurant was a bit worn, but I loved seeing the yellowed sheets of paper hanging on the walls with menu items.

While mainly a fish restaurant (lots of grilled fish on the menu) I chose the ginger pork lunch set and my husband selected a mixed fry set featuring fried fish, shrimp, and squid.

We had a lovely lunch, chatting about this and that. There has been a lot in the news recently to discuss, like the resignation of Prime Minister Abe. We also spent a lot of time talking about the food. It was so delicious. Everything was spot on. It really felt like one of those restaurants where employees learn your name because customers keep coming back again and again. It had that warm home-like feeling.

I wish we could have lunch dates all the time. It's great to have these little moments together, getting out of the house and mixing it up a bit. Plus, it's wonderful to find another great restaurant to enjoy!