Happy Thanksgiving from Tokyo!

The fact that you are taking the time to read my blog now and then is one of the many things for which I am truly grateful this Thanksgiving Day.

Oh, Fudge! Time to Get Productive

Longtime readers might remember the calamitous Christmas of 2009 when the local Commissary failed to stock Hershey's baking cocoa, a main ingredient of the only holiday treat I know how to make.

Fudge fans near and far came to the rescue that holiday season. Cans of cocoa were airlifted across the Pacific and one rather pricy can was plucked from the shelf of a Japanese grocery store. When it came time to shove the Christmas tree back in the closet and stow the fudge supplies on the topmost cupboard shelf, there were ten unopened cans of cocoa remaining. Last year I must have been particularly unproductive because nine dusty cans greeted me when I opened that cupboard this morning.

I checked the expiration dates: January 2012.

Here's hoping everyone on my list wants fudge for Christmas. I won't be able to tear myself away from the stove long enough to shop on-line or, heaven forbid, cruise a shopping mall.

The 2009 Cocoa Shortage is not to be confused with The Holiday Butter Shortage of 2007 or, my personal favorite, The No Fireworks Fourth of July just past when the responsible party forgot to place the order in their haste to evacuate after the earthquake/tsunami of March 11. Rather than simply saying "We forgot" or "We ran out of money evacuating all of you", the base "leadership" (snide quotes intended) spent the better part of June and early July issuing pious statements along the lines of "Out of respect for our host nation which has suffered a devastating tragedy, we will not be exploding fireworks over Tokyo Bay on July 4." Meanwhile, local municipalities up and down the Miura Peninsula were doing their best to lift citizens' spirits by carrying on with their annual fireworks extravaganzas. Did the people who run this base think we wouldn't notice? Duh.

Honesty is always the best policy.

Seoul Mate

The Seventh Fleet returned from its summer deployment at the end of August but the Ancient Mariner hasn't had much of a chance to enjoy his last autumn in Japan. His presence has been required/desired/requested at conferences hither and yon just about every other week since early September. This week it's Seoul, South Korea. The week after next he'll celebrate our twentieth wedding anniversary in Northern Virginia while I do some last minute holiday shopping at the Tokyo Prince Hotel where the embassies converge annually under the auspices of Ikebana International to sell crafty items (and Cuban cigars).

With all this dashing about, we've decided to skip the traditional Thanksgiving dinner this year and spend four days tasting Japan instead. We have the rest of our lives to stuff turkeys and mash potatoes but only seven more months to get our fill of Japan. And he'll probably be deployed for a chunk of that time.

Garden at Imperial Villa in Nikko, November 2011

We're going to Tokyo for two nights and then on to Hakone where we hope to glimpse some fall foliage and commune with nature when our Kindle batteries run out of juice.

Here Today and Gone Tomorrow

I can't remember the last time the Ancient Mariner and I have spent a three-day holiday weekend together. We had big plans for Memorial Day but a typhoon decided to head our way so his and all the other ships were sent out to sea lest they suffer damage banging against the piers. When the Fourth of July rolled around he was back at sea on a scheduled summer deployment which brought him back to port just in time for Labor Day.  Alas, College Boy and I spent that holiday on an airplane bound for Seattle via Minneapolis.

So although I think Columbus Day is long overdue to be erased from the Federal holiday calendar, this year I was happy to celebrate it and I'm not complaining that he spent one of this three days off his regular job volunteering in the hospital emergency department, wiping the cobwebs off those doctor skills.

We had to set our alarm clock for 4:00 am when we got home from the retirement dinner for the Japanese admirals Saturday night because we had promised to walk in the Relay for Life in nearby Zushi at 5:00 am.  It was dark out when we started walking; the luminarias ringing the track looked so pretty.  When dawn arrived shortly after 5:30 some familiar faces started poking out of the tents set up in the infield and Knitwit Jamie joined us for a lap.  Her husband, a math teacher at the middle school here who is also in the Navy Reserves, left three weeks ago for a nine-month stint in the Middle East as an Individual Augmentee (IA).

Strolling with the Ancient Mariner first thing in the morning was so darn pleasant that I decided we should make this a habit.  This morning we solved most of the world's problems while marching around the base for 38 minutes.  The rest of the world's problems will have to wait until the Ancient Mariner gets back from Singapore.  This conference could not come at a better time.  I'm not sure my legs would survive three straight days of exercise. 

Holiday Tour of Yamate

The spirit of Christmas is alive and well on a bluff overlooking Yokohama. The City of Yokohama offers free admission to seven Western-style houses in the Yamate neighborhood and every December those houses are decked out for the holidays.

Yamate is where foreigners lived when the port first opened in the mid-19th Century. The houses we saw this week are less than 100 years old since the neighborhood was destroyed in the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923, but they are quite interesting and worth a visit any time of year.

Val and Rita in the garden behind the Diplomat's House

A nice Japanese businessman pointed us in the right direction when we exited the train at Ishikawa-cho station. Our first stop was the Diplomat's House. We had a hard time tearing ourselves away from the garden which offered a splendid view of Mt. Fuji, meaning we fortuitously picked an incredibly clear day for our walk.

Bluff 18 Ban-Kan

Bluff 18 Bank-Kan was where the Catholic priests lived.  The holiday decor in this house made lavish use of white feathers and alcohol (see left).  Go figure. 

We had to exchange our shoes for slippers to enter most of the houses. Note to self: wear slip-on shoes next time.

234 Ban-Kan, a duplex, featured decorations from Poland

The Foreign Cemetery is at the top of the hill. The Catholics were buried over to the side, reminding me a bit of St. John's Cemetery in my hometown.

While I was resisting the temptation to examine several hundred tombstones, my companions disappeared around a bend in the road. There's really no accounting for priorities. Most of my siblings would have spent more time wandering through the cemetery than the houses.

Now where did those ladies go? Are they ordering waffles inside The Best Cheesecake restaurant? Alas, no. Between the restaurant and the cemetery, I have two great reasons to return to Yamate.

This picture might have been taken in the Ehrismann Residence. A common thread in the house tour was the lavish holiday table settings.

After our tour ended at the British House near the top of French Hill, we descended several hundred steep steps to Motomachi Street where we paused for a late lunch at an Italian restaurant.

Several ladies succumbed to the upscale shops on Motomachi Street - yet another reason to return to Yamate - but I hopped on the subway with the others. I was hoping to initiate one of those Flash Mob song-and-dance numbers on the train but Artistic Explorer immediately put the kibosh on that plan. Next time I'll make darn sure she rides in a different train car.

Note to Self: Always Wear Shoes That Tie

The Ikebana board members are some of the hardest working, polite, talented, and gentle women I have ever met.

Most of the Japanese members can speak English quite well, but only a few feel comfortable doing so during board meetings so business is conducted in Japanese with Junko providing a simultaneous translation for the four Americans.  Sometimes the cacophony makes me feel like I've landed in the middle of a UN session.  Sadly, this unleashes my inner Nikita Kruschev and not my inner Eleanor Roosevelt.

To thank these kind and gentle women for putting up with the likes of me and to motivate myself to get the holiday decorations up before Matt's plane touches down at Narita Airport next week, I hosted a luncheon for the Ikebana ladies after our December meeting.  They seemed to like my Anpanman tree, and cell phone charm tree, and the Peko-chan Christmas plate collection but it's hard to be sure when you're dealing with such a polite crowd.
 


The Ancient Mariner made an appearance but declined to don a Santa suit. We are not complaining since he took care of glazing the ham and putting the potato casserole in the oven. I almost feel guilty about wolfing down the last piece of cheesecake while his back was turned. Almost.

Ghost Tours and Typhoons

It's typhoon season in this hemisphere but overcast skies and a few drops of rain did not dampen the spirits of three dozen ladies who turned out for the JAW Ghost Tour last Tuesday.

Christina the Vampire marched us back and forth across the back end of the Navy base, pausing at Gridley Tunnel, behind the elementary school, and next to the sea wall to share true tales of ghost sightings. This was after we introduced our Japanese friends to Halloween carnival games like bobbing for apples, making caramel corn hands, and groping "human organs" swimming in cold noodles.

Yuuko the Good Witch

The Japanese ladies seem to favor black in their costumes as much as in their normal garb. Most of them came as witches, vampires, and cats although Hisayo was a Hershey's kiss in a silver lame number she whipped up in a spare moment.

The American costumes were a bit more eclectic. We had an escaped convict, a sumo wrestler again, a princess, Minnie Mouse, Raggedy Ann, and a somewhat wrinkled Peko-chan.

The bustier Americans favor the wench look this year. Between the Shonan party and this one, I counted at least four slutty barmaids.  That flagon hanging from Elena's belt was a nice touch.

You will probably see more than one picture of Elena this year as we seem to be running in the same circles - JAW, Ikebana, and YOSC (the Yokosuka Officer Spouse Club).  The same is true for Mimi and Weather Explorer.  Don't say I didn't warn you.

You can see I wasn't exaggerating about either the Japanese penchant for black or the exceptional turnout.

At left, Peko-chan is conferring with Weather Explorer on the likelihood of a typhoon arriving just when the Ancient Mariner's flight is scheduled to land at Narita Airport.  Everyone else on base watches the Weather Channel but Peko-chan does not know how to turn on the television that takes up an entire wall of her family room.  Sigh.

Advised to batten down her hatches, Peko moved a few potted plants to a sheltered area and hoisted a couple of lawn chairs to the screened porch. Then she muttered a few curses in the direction of CDR P for gifting a gas grill and fire pit to the Ancient Mariner (heavy household items are frequently passed from one sailor to another in foreign ports because no one wants to fork over personal funds for exceeding the government's tonnage limits when moving back to the United States).

Peko could not budge that fire pit or gas grill an inch and the cats ignored her pleas for help (they learned that from Matt surely).  Not that she had anyplace to store them in any event.  She decided to leave them to the elements. 

The typhoon was not any stronger than Peko apparently.  The firepit and gas grill were still in place after the storm passed.  Weight limit or not, these items survived a typhoon and deserve to rust along with us wherever retirement takes us. 

If I Wanted to Wear a Costume, I'd Audition for a Play

There's only one thing I like about Halloween and that's doling out candy to little princesses, Power Rangers, and wizards. Everything else -- scraping goop out of pumpkins, the color orange, and adult costume parties -- stimulates my gag reflex.

But here I am, living in a foreign country, doing my best to be an ambassador of good will for my native land. And the Japanese ladies think it's fun to wear costumes and carve pumpkins in October so that's that.

In an uncharacteristic display of good sportsmanship, this year I went the extra mile and ordered a costume on-line. The costume did not arrive in time for the Shonan party last week so some circa 1962 ingenuity was in order.

Witches, witches, and more witches

Pippi Longstocking arrived in Japan a few months ago. Our oldest sons were best friends in second grade at Star of the Sea School in Virginia Beach in 1993. It's been fun reconnecting with her at Shonan, book club, and Ikebana events.

Yoriko and Reiko attack their pumpkins

Medieval Wench Susan chats with Sumo Mimi. Inside the sumo costume is a little battery-operated fan. The menopausal women were orange with envy.

We dubbed this trio the Aladdins. The Genie is a former softball and basketball standout at Wayne State University. She'll put on the costume again to entertain Japanese children at the Yokosuka Community Center. Tia is Jasmine and you'll be seeing a lot more pictures of Tia because she's vice president of Ikebana this year. Cory the Sheik is the mother of two of Matt's friends; our paths first crossed in 1992, shortly before we both met Pippi Longstocking.

A witch poses with Trinity/Neo

This is Ingenuity, a Japanese cell phone charm. At least I finally got some use out of the Shinto priest's skirt that's been hanging in my closet for the past two years.

Love from Japan on Valentine's Day

The USS Blue Ridge returned to Yokosuka on Lincoln's Birthday. This made the Ancient Mariner very happy as he was anxious to beat Youngest Son to the President's Party leftovers.

"Mmmmm," he swooned (fortunately with his mouth closed), "have you tasted these beans?"

"Just a spoonful," she replied, "but that was enough to send me back to the Commissary for the ingredients to whip up a second batch. And, um, I invited the first four families I saw to join us for dinner on Sunday. I know it is Valentine's Day but I am just calling it Sunday Dinner since I've sworn off theme parties."



"Mmmmm," he swooned again. "Are you going to make another one of these cherry trifles?"

"Yes, but just because it's so easy and tastes so good and NOT because cherries are red which just happens to be a color associated with Valentine's Day. Why don't you post some of your Ice Festival pictures while I slave away in the kitchen?"

More Cookie Flavors

Reiko presented me with a box of tiramisu-flavored mushroom-shaped cookies while we were exploring Sankeien Garden last month. I'm hoarding them until Kate arrives in mid-December.

Reiko also told me about a new shop in Mikasa Arcade on Blue Street that sells all types of Japanese treats. Mike, Matt, and I poked our heads in the door on our way home from Coco Curry the other night and immediately spotted a display of mushroom-shaped cookies in yet another flavor: caramel. Very tasty.

These cookies might be our only holiday treats this year since the Commissary ran out of Hershey's unsweetened cocoa a couple of weeks ago. According to my favorite cashier, the next shipment might not arrive until after the holidays. Unsweetened cocoa is an essential ingredient in my fudge so I am even crankier than usual although I must confess it's a bit of a relief to decline all those requests to contribute baked goods for various holiday parties. If I was nicer, I guess I could donate a few boxes of caramel-flavored mushroom-shaped cookies. But then what would I send you for Christmas?

JAW Celebrates Shichi-go-san

Shichi-go-san (7-5-3) was the theme of today's Japanese & American Wives (JAW) gathering at Tadodai House. Our Japanese friends treated us to a fabulous program covering traditions associated with Shichi-go-san, various types of kimono and how they are worn, and a demonstration of the formal hairstyle Japanese women wear at ceremonial functions.

(This post carries a whiff of 'doctoral dissertation' so you might want to pause here long enough to grab a beer, brew a pot of coffee, or heat up a flagon of sake. Don't say I didn't warn you.)

Throughout Japan on November 15 - or the nearest Sunday - boys ages 3 and 5 and girls ages 3 and 7 are dressed in kimono and taken to Shinto shrines by their elders to express thanks and pray for their future. This is a milestone for Japanese children and commemorated with studio portraits, perhaps a little like a First Communion for 7-year old Roman Catholics.

Our hosts had decorated the vast living room with photographs of themselves and their children decked out in their Shichi-go-san finery. Some of the outfits seen in the pictures were displayed on nearby walls.

Hisayo's daughter (now a young adult) wore this kimono and matching jacket when she was three years old.

A 7-year old girl wore this outfit.

This is what a 5-year old boy wears. (I bought a pair of those pants at a recycle sale two years ago and am still working up the nerve to wear them in public. Maybe I need to come up with a new contest . . .).

Having taught us everything they know about Shichi-go-san, our hosts herded us outdoors for a group picture coordinated by a Japanese Navy photographer. As we exited Tadodai House at the conclusion of the program two hours later, we were each handed a copy of the photograph he took. (The turnaround time for pictures taken by official U.S. government photographers, back in 2003 at least, was about five months. In case you were wondering.)

Chigusa, who is a professional hairdresser like her mother before her, showed us how those "Geisha hairstyles" are created. Sally served as Chigusa's model. I thought it would be fun to see how Sally looked with a Sumo wrestler hairdo. Chigusa was having none of that nonsense.

One Japanese friend performed a dance that was simply amazing. Her single prop, a fan, was transformed right before our eyes into a river, a writing desk, a moon, and a badminton racquet I swear was so realistic I thought I heard a thwack followed by the swoosh of a birdie sailing over a net.

I've read about these story-telling dancers in books and, frankly, thought I'd have a problem maintaining a straight face. Instead, I was totally mesmerized. This could be a fun thing to learn. The pantomime part is right up my alley. The fan, alas, is not.

When fans were distributed to the Americans and we were encouraged to imitate our teacher's smooth moves, tosses, and one-handed catches, my fan invariably ended up on the floor. (This might not come as much of a surprise to anyone who knew me during my five-minute career as a baton-twirler.)

Fans are not just for telling stories and creating a personal breeze. You can also use fans to play a game similar to horseshoes.

Then it was off to the tatami room in the Japanese part of the house. We talked about the differences between the various types of kimono on display and then watched the Japanese ladies tie Sally and another young American into traditional attire. Kimono dressing involves a lot of cord-tugging, like that scene in Gone With the Wind when Scarlett is getting laced into a corset.





Some of the kimono have names I hope to be able to use in everyday conversation.










A Mother-of-the-Bride kimono.

An "I'm Single and Available" kimono.












A bride's kimono.







Then we ate lunch, then we came home, then I realized my tote bag (and car keys) were in the back seat of a van that had just exited the parking lot. This gave me the opportunity to use the name of one variety of kimono in an expletive form.

The Hairist of Them All

About 500 trick-or-treaters converged on our carport for two hours tonight. We had to close up shop at 6:30, about 15 minutes after most of our neighbors, when we ran out of candy, rice crackers, and those vanilla Pop Tarts I mistakenly bought for Matt a couple months ago.
By the time I got around to buying candy - that would be the day before yesterday - the seasonal aisle in the Navy Exchange was filled with Christmas ornaments and there were only four bags of Snickers to be found at the Commissary. Undaunted, I headed into town for Japanese treats.

This turned out to be a good move since I calculate my procrastination saved us roughly $75 and the ones Matt and I sampled tasted so awful that next year I probably won't have to spend a penny. Children will warn their friends to avoid the house with the nasty-tasting stuff.

"Here's the plan, Matt. We'll give Japanese treats to the American kids and Snickers to the Japanese kids."

"Your plan reeks of racism, Mother. Count me out."

"We need to review the difference between racism and cross-cultural experiences before you take the SAT next week. In the meantime, go ahead and call me a hairist because I intend to off all these rice crackers on the fair-haired goblins."

Zhongqiu: My New Favorite Holiday

The rain let up this evening after steady soaking showers most of the day, the kind of rainfall a gardener loves. Most of the lighter weight outdoor furniture is crammed in the shed and I'm staring out the window at the metal chairs and glider, calculating the odds of watching them sail through our neighbor's kitchen window. Not that I want it to happen, but I'd hate to miss seeing it if it does.

Let's talk about something more interesting than the weather. Pictured at left is a Mooncake, a Chinese pastry traditionally eaten during the Zhongqiu (Mid-Autumn) Festival.

This festival is one of the three most important Chinese holidays. I think the date fluctuates every year to correspond with the Autumn Equinox. This year it happened to fall on October 3 when I was sitting at Berkey Field gazing at the moon with the other football moms. My friend and neighbor Kathy Tai, who made this mooncake, says a billion or so Chinese people were all admiring the moon that very same evening. Kathy celebrates Chinese holidays because she was born in Taiwan. Not that she needs an excuse, of course. Lots of people celebrate Cinco de Mayo who weren't born in Mexico and don't get me started on St. Patrick's Day.

Kathy handed me what looked like three balls of raw dough and told me to bake them in a 300 degree oven. She was halfway down the sidewalk when she apparently remembered what a moron I am because she turned around and came back to the house to explain the importance of pre-heating the oven. Which I was quite happy to do since, frankly, I was in no rush to put something called a mooncake in my mouth.

While the oven was pre-heating, I did some research on mooncakes. They are to the Mid-Autumn Festival what turkey is to Thanksgiving: indispensable (unless, of course, you're my mother). Friends and relatives offer them to each other as they admire the harvest moon. They are about the size of a Burger King single hamburger and are usually eaten in small wedges accompanied by Chinese tea. A thin crust surrounds a thick filling -- traditionally made from lotus seed paste but Kathy made a lemon-colored yellow bean paste.

My salivary glands did not react positively to the expression "yellow bean paste" but the oven was still pre-heating so I read on. Mooncakes are considered a delicacy; production is labor-intensive and few people make them at home (emphasis mine). Most mooncakes are bought at Asian markets and bakeries. The price of mooncakes usually ranges from $10 to $50 (in US dollars) for a box of four although cheaper and more expensive mooncakes can also be found.

Since sweet Kathy had gone to all that trouble, of course I had to eat at least one of those mooncakes. The flaky crust melted in my mouth and that bean paste was pretty darn tasty. Matt had one for breakfast and eschewed the dainty wedge approach. We'll split the third one at the height of Super Typhoon Melor, but maybe you'd better not mention this to Matt in case it goes missing between now and then.