Iris – Page 125 – goinggaijin.com

Classes

I had a rather busy weekend. On Saturday there was my soroban class (I learned division), and on Sunday I took my first Japanese cooking lesson.

We were about 25 people, both Japanese and foreigners, and we made a variety of Japanese dishes: Chestnut rice, clear soup with mushrooms and tofu, grated radish with cucumber and chrysanthemums, a stir fry with Okinawan bitter gourd and bean curd, yakitori – skewered chicken – as main dish, and the almost obligatory anko rice balls as dessert.

The class lasted three hours and started off with a short introduction by the teacher, an old lady who had lived in many places in Japan, including Okinawa. In the quickest Japanese I have ever heard, she explained how each dish was to be made, and then we were sent off to three tables and were left on our own. English recipes had been provided though, and the groups were mixed so there were always Japanese people to help.

I chose to prepare the dish from Okinawa (I had eaten it in a restaurant a long time ago) which consisted only of bitter gourd goya, pre-fried tofu, miso paste and sugar, fried in a pan. I was in the team with a Japanese man and as we both did not seem to be the chatty type – although he was very friendly – our dish was the first one ready. I then had time to help with other dishes, clean a little, and take photos.

When everything was ready, we set the table for everyone – in a cleary prescribed way of course: rice and soup at the bottom, just above the chopsticks, the meat in the centre, the two side dishes to the top left and right of the meat, and the dessert yet a bit further on top. With an additional cup of green tea we were ready to eat – and it was delicious! (Note: In the photo above, there is no desert because we only prepared eight, but the teacher was invited to our table… as I’m not a fan of anko, I gave my desert to her – and was rewarded with my own green tea pudding a bit later on ;-))

I greatly enjoyed the class, I am planning to go there again. Almost everybody spoke both English and Japanese, and the atmosphere was nice and relaxed. The only thing that is not optimal is the limited space for cooking, and that it is difficult to keep dishes that are finished warm until it is time to eat. But then again, my own dish was supposed to be eaten cold anyway, who’d have thought…

Shiroi Koibito

Last week, a friend of mine from Hokkaido (that’s the northernmost of the four main islands of Japan) sent me a little present. It is quite common in Japan to give consumable presents of sake, green tea, even fruit; and when people go on vacation or business trips they often return with local specialities as omiyage – souvenirs. Hence, I received what is considered as the classic present from Hokkaido – a large box of Shiroi Koibito.

Those are very thin cookies – cat tongues the French call them I believe – with a layer of white chocolate in between. The name translates as White Lover and the cookies are delicious!

Interestingly, except for the name which is written in Kanji, all other text on the box is in French – not that I speak that language any better than Japanese. Only when you open the box, does the writing indicate the provenance of the gift… I’m so glad my chocolate-free month is over 😉

Relief

I went out for lunch the other day to a little snack bar and well, the way things happen, I needed to go to the toilet. And there I was faced – for the first time during my current stay in Japan – with a modernized, because ceramified, version of the ancient hole-in-the-ground.

This sight usually elicits a well trained string of responses on my part:

1. Assess urgency with which relief is needed.
2. Seek other, throne-style options.

3. If the answers to the above are NOW!! and None, then:

a. Curse evolution for relative intricacy of female plumbing as opposed to male one.
b. Curse father for not being able/willing to provide a y-chromosome.
c. Curse modern dress style involving pants and knickers.
d. Assemble aforementioned garments out of the way, face the hood and get down to business.
e. Hope to not lose balance during action.

So far my greatest relief has always occured when I could leave the cubicle again, unscathed, but I realize it is simply a question of getting used to it…

Compliments

Japanese food is great – and I try to sample as many different types as possible, with a certain preference for sweet stuff of course. A good way to try various cheap types of food is at a matsuri or other gathering where street vendors sell their wares. There is a particular type of sweets that is essentially walnut sized pieces of pancake batter (which allegedly contains just a little bit of soysauce) fried in a mold and preferrably eaten as hot as possible (they become tough rather quickly).

When I first noticed them I was intrigued and decided to try them. The first question was easy: “Amai desuka? – This is sweet?” – “Hai, sou desu – Yes, it is.” Good, the sweeter the better, but my objection to anything containing anko led to the second question: “Okunai wa anko desuka? – Is there anko inside?” – “Iie, anko naindesu – No, no anko.” Sufficiently satisfied I bought a small bag for 300 YEN and found the taste very nice indeed, very simple, straightforward and not too sugary – almost instant happiness. I was even more happy when the vendor complimented me on speaking Japanese so well, a compliment I modestly refused with the expected standard answer any Japanese would give in such a situation: “Iie, benkyoshite imasu – Oh no, I’m just studying…”

Anyway, a few days later when I went over my vocabulary list again my happiness was greatly diminished. I found out that “okunai” does not really mean “inside” in the way I used it, but rather “indoors”. The meaning I had intended called for the word “naka” instead… Somehow the vendor’s compliment didn’t feel that great any longer.

White Night

Kyoto has 10 sister cities, and one of them is Paris. The idea behind sister cities is to foster cultural exchange, so, last Saturday there was La Nuit Blanche, the white night in Kyoto. For the third year already, there were exhibitions, performances and meetings of French and Japanese artists throughout the city of Kyoto – and Paris as well. The opening ceremony, starting at 7 pm. with the French minister of culture, took place at the Kyoto Manga Museum (of all places), then there was a projection of art onto Kyoto City Hall, and then there were many small events in art galleries and other places around the city.

I have to admit that I’m not very big on modern or performing arts – although I like photography and sculpture and make the occasional trip to see opera. Anyway, I decided to check out the white night regardless, and there happened to be an interesting performance in a house near Ebisu’s.

I arrived at the house – old Japanese style with a beautiful garden – shortly before one show, and as we were led through the house in a roundabout way to the stage, we had to pass through white woollen threads hanging from the ceiling or having been woven into something resembling spider’s webs. We took seats at the edge of a darkened room furnished only with tatami; there were more threads hanging from the ceiling, and in the middle of the room something lay, covered with a black cloth.

All of a sudden, music started, spotlights came on, and the “thing” began to move. There turned out to be a woman underneath the black sheet, dressed in white, with straight black hair and white makeup (like the one geisha wear) on face and arms, who was “chained” to the ceiling with the wool. She began to move more vigorously, finally broke her chains and disappeared though a side door. The whole performance took less than 10 minutes. As I said I am not very big on modern art, and this one made me shiver… All the time I had the feeling the creature was evil and rightfully in chains, and when she had escaped, that something very dangerous was now at large.

My housemate later explained that this was a special type of Japanese performing art, that it originated some time after the war and that it is centred on depicting primeval forces and on evoking feelings of fear in the spectators. It certainly did that for me, and probably for the Japanese spectators as well, as they were leaving very quietly, nobody clapped or gave any sign of appreciation of the actress. It was interesting, but more interesting it would be to find out why the Japanese are all so fond of ghost stories…

Onsen

Japan lies on the border of the Asian and the Philippine plate in the South and the Pacific Plate in the North. In fact, Japan’s East coast almost coincides with these borders. Obvious proofs of this are the constant little earthquakes (most of them below the perception threshold though), the many volcanoes (Mount Fuji being the largest), and the countless onsen, hot springs, dotting the landscape, which are probably the most pleasant of all evidence. Many of those hot springs are not simply hot water, but the water often has minerals dissolved in it. For example, I have visited an onsen near Nikko with sulphuric water. It had a distinctive yellow colour, and the whole onsen town smelled rather hellishly – as did I for the rest of that afternoon…

Going to an onsen can be considered a national pastime of the Japanese, and there is something for any taste and in any price class. The vast majority of the hot springs can only be accessed through a hotel – may it be a tiny local ryokan or a huge hotel resort with 500 rooms. You need not stay there to enjoy the bath though: Outside guests are always welcome, if only for a small fee, which may or may not include the rent for a towel, which is often tiny and meant only to cover certain body parts when walking between the bathtubs.

From there it is straightforward: First leave your shoes behind at the entrance, then your clothing and other stuff in the changing room – most often in a basket or on a simple shelf, but coin lockers may be available too. And then, off into the bathroom – and the first stop here are the showers. Japanese style of course, which means there is a small stool on which you have to sit and clean yourself. Usually there is some body wash and shampoo available, but many people bring their own anyway. Japanese women especially seem to take a visit to an onsen as a way to really pamper themselves – the amount of little tubes and ointments and other beauty equipment they bring, often in a special plastic basket, is unbelievable, and applying them all before and after the bath can take considerable time! When you feel clean enough, rinse the spot you’ve occupied and then off to the tubs it goes!

The water in the tubs is usually not more than knee-deep, so jumping in (head first) is not a good idea. There can be as little as a single tub inside (and sometimes outside), but I have also been to an onsen with 8 bathtubs in total, including two Jacuzzis, two large tubs outside, and one with cold water for after the sauna. When there are more tubs the water often has different temperatures, from the barely lukewarm (or even ice cold if there is a sauna available) to scalding hot for the hardcore onsenista. Take your time and enjoy the hot water as long as you like – or you can stand it!

Once you’re done soaking, you can take another quick shower and get dressed again. The dressing rooms, especially in the high-end onsen, are equipped with hairdryers and seats in front of mirrors; tissues, cotton buds, combs… The only thing that is not provided (and I keep forgetting to bring myself) is body lotion.

To wrap up an onsen evening in true Japanese fashion, there’s only one thing left to do: Have a glass of milk directly afterwards. The Japanese claim that milk drunk after the onsen tastes differently, and many onsen even have vending machines selling milk, but I cannot confirm that. Maybe it’s worth another try?

In general, I find going to an onsen just as pleasant as the Japanese, and it’s possible to do it year-round. Although it sounds counter intuitive, even in the summer going to an onsen is a very refreshing experience. Of course, it is much more pleasant to do it during winter time, when you can slip outside in the snow, freezing with only your towel, and then enjoy the falling snow from inside the hot tub…

Precautions

Slowly but surely it is getting cooler in Kyoto. We still have daily highs in the mid-twenty degrees, and I have seen that our lowest night temperatures are still higher than the day’s highs in Austria. Still, this will not last for much longer, and I am sure I have mentioned before that this very beautiful and old Japanese house does not have central heating…

Unfortunately, in complete ignorance of Japanese hiring procedures I have not brought anything warm to wear. I had expected to have received both a job and my belongings by now – including lots of money and all my winter sweaters. Neither has materialized yet, so I need to change my plans, at least regarding warm clothes; hence: I went shopping today.

The object of today’s desire after a rather cool morning: socks. Preferably long and thick and warm. I found a lovely little shop on Teramachi selling underwear and socks, and behold the result of my shopping spree: three pairs of wonderful socks in various lengths and materials.

The shop had plenty of socks, not only is it the time for it, but Asians are generally fond of nice footwear, mainly because you have to take off your shoes in so many places, private and public, and it’s always a good idea to show decent socks. I had the choice between socks with faces of cats and anime characters, socks with frilly lace and made of fleece, normal socks, toe socks, short and long…

However, what I found so very interesting about them all was… the frilly ones with the cat faces and sewn-on ears, the toe socks with each toe differently coloured, the ones barely grazing the ankle – those were all Made in Japan. The other, more boringly patterned, but obviously much warmer socks reaching to a decent height and made from wool and even cashmere were Made in China.

Conclusion: Japan stands for cute design, China for getting things done.

Chocolate!

September is over, and with it my self-imposed month of not eating chocolate. I have to confess that I’m glad about it! Glad that I made it without greater hiccups – although around the 15th the craving was so enormous I would have eaten practically anything chocolate coated – and I’m glad that I did not break the promise to myself.

And I’m glad that it’s over and so I indulged today in this very nice and special breakfast from my favourite French bakery, fresh out of the fridge…

Austrian Elections

Yesterday the elections for the Austrian parliament took place. Of course I did my bit, actually about two weeks ago already as the laws had changed and my vote needed to arrive in Austria yesterday already (maybe somebody needs another explanation of the meaning of “date of postmark”). Anyway, here are the results: I’m not happy about this at all – too many votes for the right wing, although I am glad that there’s now only one of those parties in the parliament (Austria has a proportional representation with a 4% lower limit for entering the national assembly). Unfortunately the result seems to imply the same old people in the same old positions with the same old ideas… I’m not sure if it could be worse, actually.

Haori

I have to admit that in my Wednesday post about the flea market, I committed the sin of omission. The soroban (which I have put to good use for the first time in today’s class) was not my only purchase. I also bought a haori.

A haori is a kimono jacket that can be as short as waist length but usually goes down to about mid-thigh. Traditionally, it was made in black silk with white family crests on the back and the sleeves, and was worn by men only, together with their standard outfit of kimono and hakama. With the big changes in the Meiji period, however, they became fashionable for women also, albeit in much more fancy colours. I have heard that haori were often made by simply cutting off an old kimono and thus removing damaged parts, for example at the hem. As a haori is a jacket, it is not meant to close in front as a kimono, but is merely held together by two simple ties called haori-himo. The black, most formal haori for men are held together with white haori-himo with a big, feathery tassel in the middle.

Above is a picture of my brand new second hand haori, made of red silk with a somewhat geometric pattern (yeah, the nerd in me…) and with white lining and long sleeves. It is beautiful, and I hope that it is rather warm as well – it is surprisingly heavy, after all.