Gifts from Around the World: The Embassy Holiday Fair

Ikebana International sponsors a flower exhibition and bazaar at the Tokyo Prince Hotel in Shiba Park every year during the first week in December. Last year was the first time I made the trek to Tokyo for this event. This year I went back with Artistic and Shinagawa-san. We hooked up with several past and current members of the Japanese and American Wives Club, including the adorable Junko who initiated my now gargantuan Anpanman collection shortly after our first meeting several years ago.

The draw for me is not the flowers -- I tend to skip right through the first ballroom where the flower arrangements sit -- but the tables in the second ballroom heaped with products and baked goods offered by most of the nations that have embassies in Tokyo. The good old USA was noticeably absent again this year but the Arab countries and Africa were there in force. I picked up some interesting items from Cuba, Spain, and Norway this year but cannot divulge the details without ruining someone's Christmas. You'll just have to use your imagination.

Happy Japanese shoppers flank tall, elegant blonde

As I was skipping through the first ballroom this year, one of the flower arrangements stopped me dead in my tracks. It stopped a few other shoppers as well.

What the heck? Tomatoes ringed with red chili peppers on "stems" constructed of tall, skinny fern-draped cucumbers.

Every now and then when I see a flower arrangement I think "I could do that." This was one of those times. But I'm not promising anything.

You might find this hard to believe, but we stopped for lunch at a vegetarian restaurant, the Food Therapy Cafe. My companions all ordered the "Herbal Medicine Curry" but I opted for vegetable lasagna.  Half of it was edible.

Please note Shinagawa-san's lovely manicure in the photo above.  Those nails snap on and off (she demonstrated).  Artistic and I are hoping to get some flashy ones for ourselves in the New Year.

Today the Ancient Mariner and I celebrated twenty years of marital bliss. He celebrated in DC and I celebrated in Tokyo which might help explain how our marriage has survived two decades. My Japanese friends presented "us" with a pair of beautiful anniversary teacups during lunch. I'll show you a picture when my computer stops acting up.

A Hawaiian Christmas with JAW

Fearless, Gina, and Beth

Today the Americans hosted the annual Japanese and American Wives Club holiday party, one of the four "at-large" events on our calendar. "At-large" encompasses the thirty Americans who belong to the conversation group that meets bi-weekly plus fifteen additional ladies who are unable to make that sort of commitment.

This year's theme was "A Hawaiian Holiday" and we all wore Santa hats made out of island fabrics. A professional dance troupe treated us to a hula performance and then tried their best to teach us how to hula to "White Christmas". I regret we did not film the result for your viewing pleasure.

Birthday Girl Ouizer made all the Hawaiian Santa hats

Katherine eschewed the tropical Santa hat in favor of a felt Christmas tree number her daughter picked up at DisneyWorld. Midway through the party, she sought me out. "Jealous?" How did she know? This is the only the third or fourth time our paths have crossed since she arrived in Japan so how did she know I am the sort of person who would lust after that hat?

I told her I wanted to borrow it for my son's wedding. I was only half-kidding.

When I came home from the party and told the Ancient Mariner about the hat I wished I could wear to James and Emily's wedding, he knew I would never, ever be so thoughtless as to attempt to upstage a bride, especially one to whom I will be related for the rest of my life.

But if I ever do borrow that hat from Katherine, the Ancient Mariner came up with a really great fashion statement to complement mine.

A November Weekend in Hakone: Fabulous Views and Black Eggs

Saturday afternoon we circuited Hakone by ferry, foot, ropeway, foot, cable car, foot, train, and taxi. Along the way we caught some splendid views of Mount Fuji and inhaled some noxious fumes on a smoldering volcano.

We hopped off the ropeway in Owakudani because our guidebook insisted we should eat the black eggs cooked in the open sulfur pits. One of us took the guidebook seriously.

When it came time to crack open the first of his five black eggs on an old wooden table littered with broken egg shells, the Ancient Mariner experienced a brief "public health" moment but curiosity and hunger trumped that Johns Hopkins degree in the blink of an eye.

He pronounced the eggs "delicious". I took his word for it.

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.

Gazing Into An Abyss: Nikko, Part 2

"And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you."--
Friedrich Nietzsche

Kanmangafuchi Abyss, formed by an eruption of nearby Mount Nantai, offers a pleasant riverside walking trail with nice scenery near central Nikko.

Kanmangafuchi is also known for its row of about 70 stone statues of Jizo, the Bodhisattva who cares for the deceased, especially infants.  This group of statues goes by many names, including Bake Jizo (Ghost Jizo), Narabi Jizo (Jizo in a line) or Hyaku Jizo (100 Jizo).  The story behind the last name is that about thirty of the statues were washed away by a flood and never recovered.

Mineko says we are supposed to pose with the Jizo who most resembles our husband. 

Too somber

Hat angle too jaunty

Ring around the collar?  Not MY husband

Too ancient, believe it or not

The pained expression looks slightly familiar

"I'm melting," cried the Wicked Jizo of the West

The Winner!

Cab driver with Mineko

We eschewed the bus today in favor of a taxi because we had lots of ground to cover before catching a late afternoon train back to Yokosuka via Tokyo.

My recent experiences with cab drivers in Japan have me thinking this is a great career option for history majors who, like me, favor captive audiences. Our Nikko driver was a jolly fellow who tipped us off that some of those thirty missing Jizo statues could be found at a little-known shrine downriver from the abyss. He took us there and I counted ten more Jizo before the cemetery distracted me.

What a great way to start the day! Lovely autumn foliage, water cascading down a gorge, umpteen Jizo, and a quiet cemetery. If we never make it to the famous shrine, I'll still feel this trip was a success.

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. 

Tit for Tat-tat-tat-tat-tat

Peko-chan might be ready for Halloween but I am not. I'm still working on producing those overdue photo cards for the Japanese and American Wives Club.

Actually, the Ancient Mariner did the creative work this year with me barking suggestions over his shoulder. "Don't forget to save!" "Try a text box!" "Make the font smaller!" "Add a background color!" "Get rid of the background color!"

Right now he's standing in front of the printer, coaxing sixty Japanese postcards through the feeder one-by-one. We learned the hard way that the printer can't handle more than two in a row without jamming.

Yes, the man's a peach. Do I feel guilty? Not on your life.

Two weeks ago, you see, just before he left for San Diego via Hawaii, I offered to line edit the novel he penned during his spring and summer deployments. Based on what I gleaned from the first twelve chapters, his novel is what Gregor Mendel might produce if he crossed a Harlequin romance with a Tom Clancy book. Neither is a genre I find appealing, but I have to credit the Ancient Mariner with an imagination that rivals Walter Mitty's. Who knew?

Last night when I handed in my first 72 line-edited pages, he passed me 200 more pages to peruse. So do I feel guilty about asking him to produce those cards for me? Not on your life.

The Cats Ate My Homework?

The care Japanese gardeners lavish on gnarled old trees intrigues me. There seems to be as much art as science involved in the lashing of mallets to fragile limbs. Someone went to a whole lot of trouble winding those ropes.

This morning I'm feeling a bit gnarled myself and wishing the Ancient Mariner was here to prop me up.  He'll be back from San Diego tomorrow but this morning is the deadline for turning in fifty picture cards to the Japanese and American Wives Club.  My PC is not cooperating and this old laptop is not connected to the printer.  Which actually might be a blessing because I couldn't find the special picture card paper at the Navy Exchange so I was going to have to painstakingly cut my masterpieces out of flimsy computer paper.

I best go practice contrite expressions in front of my bathroom mirror.

More Hydrangeas, or Why I Slept Through Dinner the Night Before He Deployed

The Ancient Mariner trudged aboard the USS Blue Ridge this morning. A few hours later the Seventh Fleet sailed out of Tokyo Bay bound for exotic and not-so-exotic ports. By the time I see my Ancient Mariner again, my stepdaughter Jewls will be married (with her father in attendance if all goes according to plan), I will be another year older (shudder), and Pip will be heading back to college.

Pip and I did not give the Ancient Mariner the send-off he deserved. One of us feels awful about this. The other one of us will no doubt feel similar pangs of guilt about twenty years down the road.

We were going to have a nice "last supper" at home but the Ancient Mariner suggested going out for sushi instead when I limped through the door after a long afternoon of gazing at hydrangeas in Kamakura.  To cut to the chase, I dozed off at 6:00 pm and didn't wake up until after midnight.  Pip disappeared with a friend whose family is leaving Japan today. He said he didn't know we were going out to dinner so he ate with his friend instead.

The Ancient Mariner tells me I snored through two telephone calls, one doorbell ringing, and -- incredibly -- a siren on an emergency vehicle that parked across the street from our house for twenty minutes.  He says this is my typical sleeping pattern prior to one of his deployments, that he's come to expect it and doesn't take it personally.  This made sense fifteen or even five years ago when my body needed to store up energy for the long weeks of single parenthood stretching out ahead of me, but now?  Sheesh.  Old habits die hard.

Engaku-ji in Kita-Kamakura

More likely my body was simply exhausted from hiking the length of the grounds at Engaku-ji after viewing the hydrangeas at Meigetsu-in. The property is narrow. Mainly it's a central path lined with interesting buildings and views. The views and buildings are so interesting that it's not until you've reached the last shrine at the end of the path that you realize you've walked nearly a mile and will have to walk another mile to get back to the exit.

The gardens here are more orderly than the garden at Meigetsu-in. There are fewer varieties of hydrangea and the colors are more traditional, meaning white, pink, and blue.  There's a pond on one side of the path where we stop to admire irises, ducks, and turtles, and one long stretch of hydrangea bushes on the other side of the path that's attracted a pair of amateur artists who look so cute in their little caps and smocks.

My feet were pointed toward the exit when Weather Explorer spotted a directional arrow pointing off to the left toward a National Treasure, the O-gane, one of the three great bells of Kamakura.  I was less than enthusiastic.  I remembered climbing those 200 stone steps to see the bell last year.  Then a wave of guilt washed over me.  She may never pass this way again.  We made our ascent, we glanced at the bell, we admired the view.  Good thing, too, because I don't think I could bear having two things to feel remorseful about today.  One is bad enough.

   

A Dentist, a Priest, and a Doctor Walked into the Officers' Club . . .

...and we wished them Happy Father's Day then let them pay for brunch. How nice of us.

Remind me next year that the Ancient Mariner is owed a Father's Day with all the works: breakfast in bed (he can slide back under the covers after he starts the coffee), new tie, and back massage. This year's celebration was about as joyous as a funeral lunch in a church basement.

Mimi and her family are moving to North Carolina in a few weeks, Father Sal will depart Japan on their heels, and three days from now the Ancient Mariner will be back at sea for the duration of the summer. The air-conditioning doesn't work in the room on the ship where he works and sleeps. It hasn't worked for almost two years now. The thought of crossing the equator fills him with dread rather than delight these days.  One of his Father's Day gifts was an ice gel pad that he'll stow in a refrigerator during the day and spread on his bed at night.  Let's hope it works both for his sake and the sake of his co-workers.  Hot is not the Ancient Mariner's favorite body temperature.

Mimi was quite the fashion plate today. If I'm not mistaken, that jacket was a kimono in a former life. I'm pretty sure I need one of those.

Rising to the Occasion

The Ancient Mariner and I sauntered casually through the doors of the Mercure Hotel to check out the quilt exhibit. "Good Lord," I choked, "they put our names under our blocks!" The six small quilt blocks displayed in the lobby were the only entries to which names were attached. 

Most of the pieces were on display in a room just off the lobby.  As we edged into that room, one of us blushing furiously, two ladies seated on chairs in the corner stood to greet us.  One balanced herself on a cane.  Try as we might by word and pantomime to convince them to return to the safety and comfort of their folding chairs, they remained on their feet.

Realizing we had reached a cultural impasse of sorts, the Ancient Mariner and I signed the guestbook and inspected each item on display; one of us used facial expressions and gestures to indicate which items most appealed to her; the other nodded sagely at appropriate intervals while keeping one eye on the lady with the cane in case she started to tip over.  We were walking an emotional tightrope.  We didn't want to overstay her balance, but we didn't want to offend these nice ladies by rushing through the exhibit too quickly.  What's a gaijin to do?

I decided to swallow my embarrassment and take ownership of my quilt blocks.  I gestured toward the lobby and then gestured toward myself.  The lady with the cane responded by beaming at me and gesturing toward her own chest.  We all shuffled out to the lobby where she pointed to her name on the card and the square she had made.  I pointed to my name and squares and admired her tiny perfect stitches.

Then the Ancient Mariner took our picture to prove to my children and siblings that I really did make quilt squares that were displayed in a public building in Japan.

Next time I'll try to get a picture of the Ancient Mariner looking sage at a quilt exhibit.
      

Pip Turns Heads in Akihabara

We took the train up to Tokyo after mass yesterday. The Ancient Mariner will be deploying again soon and won't return to Yokosuka until after Pip goes back to college so we lured Pip out of his cave by chanting "Akihabara! Akihabara!" at the top of our parental lungs.

Akihabara is Tokyo's electronic district, as most of you know by now. The prospect of Akihabara is what spurred Pip to take his first train ride in Japan nearly five years ago and he hasn't tired of it yet.

Because it takes slightly over an hour to travel to Akihabara, and because I was seated next to Pip on the train while the Ancient Mariner sat on the other side of the car with his nose in his Kindle, I can now offer you a fairly decent plot summary  of a post-Apocalyptic computer game set in Nevada and the Mohave Desert.  But I won't.

I suspect he gets his blow-by-blow verbal skills from me. Fortunately, he gets his looks from his father.

One of Us Had a Semi-Productive Day

It was a coin's toss whether the USS Blue Ridge would make it back to Yokosuka today, but the Ancient Mariner finally stumbled through the door shortly before 10:00 pm. Pip can't remember the last time Dad's stayed up past his bedtime. This would be Dad's bedtime, not Pip's.

While waiting for my ship to come in, I made some progress on those pesky quilt blocks.

Batting and backing were attached to the Woven Ribbons block, and some actual quilting attempted.  I cut the backing extra large in hopes of using the excess to bind the block to avoid a trip into town for bias tape.

Mount Fuji has been appliqued over the moon which I see is not centered properly.  I still have to add batting and backing and figure out how to bind this block but first I have to find my seam ripper thingy to eradicate that awful checked border.  What was I thinking?

If You Build It, They Don't Come

Betty, one of my favorite young Knitwits, has a bartending job now and can no longer attend our Thursday evening Knitwits' gathering so we've instituted a Monday night session. After a month, it's still just Betty and Peevish holding down the front table at Starbucks on Monday nights but we're not complaining.

Her running commentary on her love life was the perfect counterpoint to the tedium of hand-appliqueing that moon to my quilt square tonight. She even threaded my needle for me. Life doesn't get much better than this.

While I track down red thread so I can add the mountain to the square, you can look at a couple of Betty's current knitting projects.

A pink mesh shopping bag.  Pink is Betty's signature color.

A garter that's as wispy as a spider's web

As for Typhoon Songda, the good news is a stiff wind from China sent it packing for the Pacific before it reached us. The bad news is the Seventh Fleet might not get home tomorrow. Apparently they had to go so far east and south to avoid the typhoon, they are now more than a day away from us. The Ancient Mariner is not a happy camper tonight.

Wait until he sees all I have accomplished in his absence!

Taking Care of Assets

"Where's Dad?"

"He went over to the ship to find out whether or not they'll be leaving today."

"I thought they were going to send a message by 7:00 am."

"Yes. Well. You know how that goes."

"If the ship goes, why does Dad have to be on it? The Seventh Fleet staff just uses the ship like an office building. Are they expecting Dad to man an oar or something?"

"One never knows, sweetie."

Pip tries to work up some enthusiam when asked to show you his new cell phone charm

The ship left Yokosuka in the middle of the afternoon. An hour or so later, the base commander asked all residents to remove or secure all outdoor items prior to the arrival of high winds.

"Pip! Can you help me move all the lawn furniture and potted plants?"

"Can we wait until we actually feel a breeze?"

"I like the way you think, kid."

Any Port But This One In a Storm

The Ancient Mariner sauntered through the door last night after five days at sea and another long day of meetings. We spent the evening making plans for the holiday weekend, primarily a trip to Tokyo to visit the War Museum and Nikon repair shop.

Tonight those plans are on hold thanks to Typhoon Songda. If the typhoon continues to head in our direction, most of the U.S. ships currently docked here will head out to sea to avoid the risk of being banged against the piers by high winds. At least he won't have to pack his sea bag since he hasn't gotten around to unpacking it yet.

The decision will be made and communicated by 7:00 am, at least that's what they are saying tonight, so there's still a chance we'll be on the 8:34 train to Tokyo. But I'm not holding my breath.

Hanging with the Paparazzi at Osaka Castle

We couldn't have asked for better weather during our trip to Osaka. Indeed, the weather was so darn fine that the Ancient Mariner agreed to stroll from Namba to Osaka Castle rather than ride the subway. We popped into the first bakery we passed to fortify ourselves for the five-kilometer hike.

The Tokugawa clan torched the original castle back in the 1600s to eliminate their competition but the city erected a replica watch tower on the vast castle grounds in the 1930s.  There's no charge to enter the grounds but we forked over 200 yen each to access a walled garden area.  This being the fallow period between azaleas and irises, the garden was a bit disappointing until we turned a corner and found ourselves surrounded by dozens of photographers.

The Ancient Mariner enters the ranks of the Japanese paparazzi

"What's on the other side of those hedges?" I asked.

"An old wooden building."

"Oooh. Maybe the Prime Minister is meeting secretly with the Chinese ambassador. Or, better yet, maybe Ken Watanabe is filming a new movie. Try to get closer to the building."

"Careful! You almost knocked over that baby in the hammock."

"That might be a hammock but it's not a baby. It's the biggest camera lens I've ever seen. It's at least five times bigger than my biggest lens."

"Don't even think about it. I've already picked out your Father's Day present."

After chuckling at our antics for a few minutes, a kind gentleman approached us, turned on his camera, and showed us a picture of what the paparazzi were tracking: a colorful Australian bird. Sheesh.

We never did catch a glimpse of that bird but the Ancient Mariner befriended several of its tiny cousins by tossing a few bread crumbs their way.

I seriously doubt we'll be taking up birdwatching in retirement. Stalking Ken Watanabe, however, is still on the list of potential hobbies.

Osaka is All About Food ...

...and Chibo in Namba is the place to go for okonomiyaki, a cross between an omelet and a pancake. Depending on the regional variation, sometimes you'll find noodles inside and/or a salad on top.

For starters, I'd recommend seared scallops with an icy mug of beer.

We capped off our meal with an order of yakisoba (stir-fried noodles) that the chef dumped on the counter in front of us.

It's not all soy sauce in Osaka. The desserts are pretty tasty too. Next time I plan to save room for this:

Soft serve garnished with mushroom-shaped cookies

The Ancient Mariner ordered a cream parfait in a little coffee shop between our hotel and Namba station. We also sipped Viennese coffee there. We have become quite the fans of Viennese coffee so expect us to look like chubby retirees when we waddle off the plane a year from now.

Liberty Buddies in Osaka

In nearly twenty years as a Navy spouse, I never met the Ancient Mariner's ship in a foreign port until this past weekend when the USS Blue Ridge visited Osaka. (Actually I only managed to meet his ship in a domestic port once, and that's because my mom and dad were in town to herd me and the kids to the pier in Norfolk on time to watch the USS George Washington return from a six-month deployment.)

There is something about Osaka that makes me feel homesick.  But don't get me wrong:  I am not complaining.  Nostalgia and sentimentality are two of my favorite emotions.

We listened to Buddy Holly and the Temptations in my hometown coffee ship.

Look what I found at a thrift shop!

At first glance, I thought this sign was advertising "Amy Burgers". It turned out the joint was called Any Burger but by then I was missing my goddaughter and decided to share this sign with you in her honor.