Hinamatsuri

March 3 is Hinamatsuri, the Doll Festival, or Girl's Day in Japan. Displays of traditional dolls get put up in homes, train stations (only in Japan would these be without any security measures!), department stores, and just about everywhere else. Museums (including where I work!) often do exhibits related to dolls, and everything seems to be pink and red.

Wikipedia has a good explanation of the festival and the placement of the different dolls. La Fuji Mama gives a good description of some of the celebrations that are held by families with daughters.

I have a collection of dolls from around the world, packed in boxes at my dad's house. The dolls were bought for me by my dad when he traveled, or when we traveled as a family, a souvenir from each country or region we visited. (I think this was my dad's way of making sure he could get me a souvenir I'd be happy with, as I wasn't always the most traditional of kids... When I was about 7 he went to Israel for a conference. Before he went he asked me what I wanted him to bring me back - figuring I'd ask for a stuffed camel or something. Nope. I wanted a stuffed squirrel. Somehow he managed to find one in the gift shop of one of the airports he transferred through! I did get a camel too. Dad's are amazing, aren't they?)

Anyways... where was I? Ahhh, yes... my doll collection... Since I have a collection, I was naturally interested in Hinamatsuri from the moment I first heard about it. My host family put up an impressive display of dolls and the little 3 year-old knew well enough that these dolls were NOT for playing. The two of us would sit in front of the display and play with other dolls, she'd pause every so often and talk to the empress doll, or show her the toy being played with.

I don't have daughters, nor do I have space for a large display of dolls, but I try to put out some sort of display every year. Last year one of my friends from school gave me a set of emperor and empress dolls she had made from origami. They are beautiful (and fold away flat for storage not taking up much space!) and I was thrilled to have such a special personal display.

the Emperor and Empress (Odairi-sama & Ohina-sama)

The friend made more this year, and I asked her for a set to send to a friend in Canada. Imagine my surprise then, a few days later when she called and said she had something to give me, and could she drop by after work (she works very close to where I live). She arrived and presented me with a red origami envelope box, which turned out to contain a smaller set of emperor and empress dolls along with their three serving girls and five musicians! I am so excited to have my own set, and am already contemplating trying to add a few more pieces myself each year.

the Emperor

the Empress

the whole group



the 5 musicians

small drum player

large drum player

hand drum player

flautist

singer

the 3 serving ladies

Noise Pollution

A common complaint about Japan is the seemingly endless pre-recorded messages blaring at you from various locations. During the run up to elections politicians have cars driving about blaring messages and requests for votes, right-wing political groups drive black vans with darkened windows that blare rousing militaristic music, the truck that delivers fuel for space heaters plays the MOST ANNOYING jingle, and the one that has been annoying me the most recently is the constant appearance of trucks blaring their desire to take your unwanted electronics off your hands. The drivers go painstakingly slowly through the neighbourhood, stopping regularly to make sure that everybody hears the message and has the chance to grab the laptop/tv with remote control/VCR/.... and run out and joyfully relieve themselves of the burden.

I hear trucks of this sort at least once or twice a week, and it makes me wonder just how many old electronics they think people have sitting around in their homes? I realize the Japanese are famous for buying the newest gadget as soon as it comes out, and electronic items cannot be thrown out in the regular garbage here, but still, twice a week?!

There are two jingles I wouldn't mind hearing, but have not heard once in this neighbourhood - trucks selling yaki-imo (sweet potatoes - cooked whole over coals and a wonderful cold weather snack) or trucks selling hand-made gyoza (Chinese dumplings). I have caught a glimpse of a guy on a bicycle selling tofu and other goodies, but he doesn't make enough noise for me to hear him!

Fuwafuwa

I'm slowly realizing (it takes me a while to learn things like this) that I should have more confidence about my knitting. I often start a project with a certain person in mind and, halfway through, decide that it isn't quite right for them. Once I was right, and I ended up giving the project in question to somebody else (who I wasn't sure it was right for but ended up LOVING it), but normally I manage to screw up my courage to give it to them and it turns out to be right (or perhaps they just do a convincing job of pretending to like it).

I recently finished a scarf that I had decided was NOT right for the intended recipient. She came over for dinner tonight however, and in the course of the evening asked me what I was currently working on. When I brought out the newly finished scarf she seemed to really like it - particularly the huge fluffy pompoms on the end. When I asked her if she wanted it she sounded really excited, and so she went home with a full stomach and a warm neck (and perhaps a rather unsteady step as she polished off a number of bottles of beer I had brought her back from various travels).

Given the rather suddenness of the departure of this scarf I didn't have time (or good lighting) to take any good pictures, but here it is nonetheless (made with some novelty fake fur-ish type yarn that a friend picked up in England and sent to me):

I've known the scarf's recipient for almost a decade now. When I first met her she was to house sit for my father and be a visiting Japanese professor at his university. She took this teaching duty very seriously and was preparing feverishly. Unfortunately, however, she never did teach a single class as a few weeks before term started she blacked out while walking down the staircase at our house and woke up with complete amnesia. She knew what yogurt was, but didn't know what flavour she liked or if she had even ever eaten it herself. She could speak English but couldn't remember why she was in Canada - nor why I was speaking to her in Japanese! Luckily she had no other injuries and after a few months in Japan her memory started coming back. She now has remembered everything save for a short amount of time just before she blacked out. Throughout it all she never once lost her sense of humour and her spirit. She's good fun and has been a big help to me in Tokyo - helping me find my apartment, finding me a cheap used fridge, supplying me with ume-shu...

(did I mention she REALLY liked the pompoms?!)

Leafy Greens

After being given nice blocking wires for Christmas, and having worked on a number bigger projects, I was ready for some lace. I had found some beautiful silk yarn at a small shop in Tokyo - various greens and very natural looking - and decided it was perfect for a certain friend, so all I was left to do was pick out an appropriately natural pattern for a small scarf. The leaves of this basic pattern seemed simple while still being elegant. Since lace knitting is more finicky I didn't find this the greatest project for working on during my (short) commute, and it took longer than I had hoped. But, if I do say so myself, the end result was worth it.









The recipient was suitably thrilled. I was a bit worried, as she can be rather picky, but I was pretty sure I had chosen yarn and a pattern that would both suit her and be to her tastes. This friend isn't just a friend either, she works in the curatorial program office at my university - she is my supervisor for my TA duties, secretary to both of my professors, and does the other million things that keep our corner of the university running smoothly. She is incredibly talented, patient, and calm. She never complains about all the random questions I ask her, and there isn't much that gets her upset, but I tease her that when she does get upset... loooook out! Incongruously, perhaps, with her often mild manners, she has a great sense of sarcasm and a rather bitingly sharp wit.

Attack of the Killer Tomatoes

My maternal family has an uncommon food allergy - tomatoes. My mother could not eat raw tomatoes, but if they were cooked she was alright. My aunt has issues with vegetables in general, and I have been told their mother also had issues with tomatoes. In fact, family lore (highly unlikely that it is true, but is still amusing) says that my maternal grandmother's grandfather was the first man to import tomatoes to Scotland and, when the new culinary treat didn't take off as had been hoped, the family ended up having to eat a lot of them at home. Over time multiple members of the family developed intolerances. The plant is, after all related to the highly poisonous deadly nightshade, and the fruit of the tomato is the only edible part as the leaves are also toxic.

I was in my twenties before I realized I too had issues with tomatoes. More recently I've realized that my problems have increased, to cover peppers and eggplant. For the time being potatoes (also related) appear to be alright and I am ignoring the likelyhood that chili peppers (and therefore many spicy foods that I LOVE) are a problem. Unfortunately for me it is not enough to cook tomatoes, and even small amounts in sauces will give me an upset stomach. Eating in India was made more difficult by attempts to find dishes that didn't have tomatoes as the sauce base, and I've had to give up a number of my favourite dishes.

Pizza, thankfully, is not one I've had to give up completely, although for the most part I have to make it myself. When I have access to an oven it is one of my favourite meals to make. My old stand-by has a pesto-sauce base and is then loaded with spinach, red onion, feta cheese, mozzarella, and whatever else is in the fridge (shrimp, bacon, moose sausage, asparagus, artichoke...) When I was in Canada over Christmas I made pizza a couple of times, each time using store-bought pizza shells and whatever I found in the fridge. Two of the concoctions I came up with this time were:

Christmas Turkey Left-over:


I used a citrus cranberry sauce (I never liked cranberry until I tried this at Thanksgiving dinner at relatives of an ex, this sauce has been a staple in my family's holiday dinner ever since) as a base, and piled it with spinach, leftover roast onions and turkey, feta cheese and mozzarella. I wasn't sure how it would work, but it was actually really good and a fun new way of serving up turkey left-overs!



and Chinese Hoisin Chicken:


While I still prefer Peking duck without it, I have finally managed to outgrown my HATRED of hoisin sauce (I called it "poison sauce"). My dad loves the stuff, however, so he was insistent that we make a hoisin pizza. We used cubes of left-over chicken, and more of the Christmas roast-onions. It was very yummy but we both agreed that it needed vegetables - perhaps mushrooms and something green.


While I may be adventurous about what I put on the pizza I make, I must admit I still am not a fan of some Japanese pizza - with mayo, corn, potatoes, and tuna... shudder...!

Gift Horse

A few weeks ago I got a letter from the international office at my university. It wasn't an important notice, only a reminder that I needed to submit a form if I planned to leave the country over spring break. Since I know about the form (I submitted when I went home for Christmas) and am not planning to leave Japan during spring break, I threw the letter out (well, actually I threw out the envalope and will reuse the paper... but I'm splitting hairs).

What annoyed me about the situation was not the letter, it was the fact that the letter had taken about two weeks to get to me because the office had sent it to my old address, at the dorm. I changed my address with every conceivable office at the unviersity (and wrote about it too). But not one of the offices succeeded in actually sending mail to my new address. I had to go back in and remind them, or the mail had to be sent back to them before they actually got the message.

You'd think that in a country as technologically advanced as Japan that they'd have the electronic records thing down. But no. Paperwork here is all on paper, and often surprisingly badly filed too. I never thought I'd find myself nostalgically remembering the computer based system of my undergrad when you couldn't find a person to speak to, but changing your address or just about any other piece of information took nothing more than logging into a website and updating the relevant information.

GRRRRR.

So. When I went into the international office for my monthly sign-in (a requirement of my scholarship) I reminded them that I had moved and asked them to make sure that future letters be sent to my new address. They apologized and then started talking about my bank book. I was confused, so I asked what they were talking about. It turns out they got more than my address wrong, they actually sent me the wrong letter! What they thought they had sent me was a letter from the friends of the university association. The association, worried about the affect of economic difficulties on foreign students, had decided to give all foreign students (even those on scholarship) at the university a lump sum to help them through any difficulties. The international office wanted my bank account info so that they could deposit Y30,000. I was asked if would be willing to give them this information within the next week.

I left the office in a much better mood, but dogged by the worry that I should contact the Publisher's Clearinghouse Prize Patrol with my address change!