Vaccinations And Whatnot

Sumo K at four months. Bust those buttons!

...and another four months passed with no posts...

BUT, K is starting to sleep on her own, and I'm working on her napping on her own, too, so that should free up some time. Right? Right? Please tell me free time becomes more attainable.

Yikes, yikes and yikes

Anyway, when I left off, K was due for some immunizations. Ouch. The HIB was pretty standard and didn't faze me at all. K took it pretty well, too. The BCG on the other hand, well, that thing is terrifying. Imagine one of those prickly brushes they have to comb sheep wool. Imagine it shrunk down to about the size of a fat marker, and round. Then imagine someone pressing it, using all her body weight, into a baby's upper arm. Twice. Then some vaccine is rubbed on and you wait until it air dries. THAT is a Japanese BCG vaccine. Scary stuff. I did my best to remain calm in the face of it, as I have read that mummy's reaction affects baby, and I think I did a pretty good job. K didn't actually cry too much. And it really does look fine after a few days. Just a few days. After that, it swells and goes all red and looks terribly infected. Not having ever been exposed to such barbarity (I know, it's not really barbarity, but it was horrid nonetheless), I didn't know what to expect and was pretty sure K was going to keel over due to a terrible infection. I explained as much to our doctor during a visit, and much to my relief, was told all that swelling was normal. Yikes! The doctor was right, and now K just has the normal scarring. Still red. Still sad-looking. But no longer threatening. They marks will fade to white, and will remain, as a friend said, as a reminder that she's protected. How nice. The upside is that the mark is still a good sight better than those old polio scars. At least K's marks have character.

Next up was her 6/7-month visit. Not being able to read the information that came, K ended up on the 7-month side of things. It was a bit of a debacle, too, as I didn't realize that I had to fill out a form and bring it with me in order to have it be free. So, we paid the ¥5000 or so yen, and after H found the forms, headed back to get a refund. I will be prepared for the 9/10-month visit (which is coming up - ato yuma! (time flies)).

The fam in Kamakura.

In the meantime, I have joined a mamma's group. While sitting in the park one sunny March day, K stared down a Western woman and her two sons (aged 3 and 3 months). Oh, K. She loves to stare at people until they acknowledge her, at which point she usually gives a great big smile. This time, as usual, it worked, and the woman, M, came over. I cannot even begin to explain how nice it was to have a chat, even a little one, with another Western mother. Please don't think I'm narrow-minded or anything, but it is nice to chat with someone who grew up with the same ideas of safety and whatnot. It reminds you that you're not insane for thinking all babies/children should be in car seats, and children should wear bicycle helmets - and wear them properly (Yeah! Children not in car seats! "Newborns are too small to ride in car seats. It's dangerous... The straps are far too tight - loosen them so that K can wriggle around... Bike helmet? She'll look ridiculous and all the kids will laugh at her...) H is not the only Japanese person to feel this way - it's virtually everyone!!! Gah! So yes, it was nice to meet someone who felt the same way.

Becky/ベッキー♪♯

M invited me to join the mamma's group. So far, I've been out... twice I think. I wish I could make it out more often, as all of the women and kids are wonderful, however, between work and weather, it can't always be done. Such is life. One thing that surprised me (and made me realize that I am somewhat stuck in "half" stereotyping...) was that all of the babies are fairer than K. I thought K looked pretty Western, but wow, blond/blonde hair galore! Of course, K's hair seems to be lightening: it's coming in red and blonde. So perhaps she will end up just as fair. Only time will tell. And I learned my lesson: not all "halfs" (I think I will call K a double-double, or a half-and-half - both good Canadian-based expressions) are like Becky.

Oh, How Things Change...

My, it has been a while. I didn't mean to let things go this long, but between laziness and a new baby, things are just not getting done.

My last entries were on the earthquake, almost a year ago. Time flies. Japan has been moving on as best it can. Over the New Year holidays, there were lots of programmes on progress that has been made up north, as well as stories about individuals and families and how they are faring. Lots of video clips as well. It's strange to think that that actually happened; living in Tokyo, we just don't see reminders very often. When we do, for me at least, it's very surreal. But, we cannot dwell on it forever, and so neither will I in my blog.

Sitting on my lap right now (because every time I put her down, she starts to cry) is my little angel/pork chop/sweet pea/call-her-what-you-will K. K turned four months just the other day. For her four-month check up, I had to take her down to the local health centre where all the other babies born in September, along with their mummies, were waiting to see the doctors. We got a lecture on the introduction of solids and even got a plate of samples (vegetable soup, rice cereal ("okayu"), mashed potatoes, carrots and spinach). Surprisingly delicious. From there, we were visited in small groups by library volunteers (and even given a little board book), and then called in to see a doctor. Let me tell you, a room full of little nearly naked babies is a pretty adorable sight.

Next up are K's immunizations. The paperwork that came to explain how they're given was mind-boggling, especially for me, since my ability to read kanji (Chinese characters used in Japanese) is pretty pathetic. Even H had trouble figuring all of the information out. In the end, we had hospital staff explain it to us. So, coming up this month is K's HIB vaccine ("heebu uwakucheen" is how it sounds in Japanese - confusing!) followed by her BCG next month. The BCG given here is different from back home. Kids end up with a mark on their arm like someone pressed a piece of Lego against them until it left red spots. The spots then fade to white and then disappear (or so I'm told). Anywho, thanks to K spending five days in the hospital for an unknown infection in November, resulting in numerous needles (three to her spine - ouch!) and other unpleasantness, she'll be all over this immunization business. Not that she remembers at all, but still.


Anywho, immunizations are only one of the many parts of pregnancy, childbirth, child rearing, etc., that are different from back home. I'll try to make a few more entries about the joys of doing things in a different culture over the next while - if K ever lets me put her down...

The Escape: Part 2

I got to Narita, and just as they were reporting, it was a madhouse. I nervously asked Information where I would be able to find Immigration and was told to go to the fourth floor of the south wing. Sure enough, there was a table there, being swarmed by foreigners, manned by three or so immigration officials. 

"Excuse me, I have my revenue stamp, but I don't have my re-entry permit. I tried this morning, but by 10am, Tachikawa's office was already over."

"Eeeeehhh---? Well, okay, you need to fill this in. Then take it to immigration when you are boarding and they will fill it out. Make sure you go early!"

I filled in the form over lunch (first lunch - there would be two more) and noticed that there was an extra page. 

"The Immigration Office does not give re-entry permits at the airport. We are, however, making an exception JUST THIS ONCE. Your signature means that you will never again attempt to get a re-entry permit at the airport," was the gist of the form. Annoyed, I signed anyway. I had TRIED to do things the right way. It wasn't my fault if Immigration decided to close an hour after they opened. I told three or so immigration officials this, but no one cared. Next disaster, it seems I'll be out of luck.


The wait was about thirty minutes to get the permit processed at Narita immigration. It was chaos. People had no idea what line in which to stand, or what forms they needed. The staff was doing its best, I believe, but they were overwhelmed. Luckily, airport staff is a heck of a lot nicer and more efficient in Japan than they are in Canada (my apologies to decent airport staff members in Canada, but from my experience, you are few and far between), so the experience wasn't as bad as it might have been. I'm just happy I got my permit.


The flight was packed full. I had an annoying experience at the start, but that was my own fault for not being strong-willed enough. There was more turbulence than I'm used to, which had me gripping the seat and thinking "great, I left Tokyo only to be killed in a plane crash," but, happily, it didn't come to that.


Now, I'm home, safe and sound, for two weeks. Sure, it's nice, but I hate not knowing what's actually going on. I read things like "iodine found in Tokyo drinking water" and start to panic. I hate being separated from my husband. It's unpleasant, but I guess it is best. Three arms might be useful for a child, but the bullying would likely be terrible, I suppose. *sigh* I'll just hope things get better and I can go home in two weeks as planned.


Thank you to all who have been keeping up with me here and sending messages of concern. It's been much appreciated. I'll let you know how Tokyo is doing once I get back home.

The Escape: Part 1

Well, foreigners living in Japan have, like so many bananas, split. It's been a veritable exodus, making the front pages of Japanese newspapers and causing unbelievable backups at immigration offices as people make mad dashes to get their re-entry permits. I had no intention of joining this madness, rising above the various pleas and demands that I return to Canada, until my husband informed me that I'd be leaving the next day. *sigh* It's hard to argue with that, and all of the guilt-tripping (example: you're PREGNANT! PREGNANT women are more vulnerable to radiation poisoning. Think of your BABY!!!"). So, just as my husband had said, the next day I was leaving on a jet-plane, bound for Pearson International Airport.

Just to give you an idea of the madness, I'll tell you about the morning I left:

At about 5am, just before my husband was to get up for work, I gasped and sat up, scaring my poor husband who thought something was physically wrong with me/baby, and exclaimed "I have no re-entry permit!" This is a bad thing. In Japan, if you leave the country with the intention of coming back, but without a re-entry permit, you lose your visa upon your return. This means no working (bye-bye employment), a three-month visitor's visa, and a lot of paperwork to fill in for a new visa. So, before you leave the country, you have to head out to immigration, buy a revenue stamp (single re-entry: 3000 yen; multiple re-entry: 6000 yen), take a number, wait in line, wait for your application to go through, and then head home. The re-entry permit lasts only as long as your visa, so, upon getting a new visa, you have to do the same thing over again. 

Now normally, I would have done this well in advance of leaving the country, but this time, there was no time. So, determined to get things done quickly, I headed out the door at 8.30am, arriving at office at about 9.30. I went to buy a revenue stamp at the convenience store. They were all sold out. So, I headed to the post office to get one. The line ran out the door. The people in front of me were almost all buying stamps for their friends, too, which had me worried that the post office would run out, too. Luckily, they didn't. I got my stamp (multiple re-entry. I figured I might as well), and headed to the immigration building. The line there went out the door and down the very, very long street. There were police to keep order. I ducked between two police and got in line. Immediately, an immigration official came up to me.

"I'm sorry, but we're done for the day," he said. (I might point out that it was 10am...TEN FREAKIN' AM).

"Eeeeehhhh----? But my flight leaves today. I have to get a permit," said I.


"Oh, I see. Do you have your ticket?" he asked.

"It's an electronic ticket. All I have is my itinerary," I replied.

"Oh, I see," he said, looking rather worried. "What time do you fly?"

"7pm."

"Oh, I see (the Japanese say this a lot). Well, I'll go ask, but I don't think it's possible."

By this point, I was nearly in tears (sleepy + pregnancy-related emotional instability + not wanting to leave my husband = teary me). He came back a few minutes later shaking his head.

"It's impossible, I'm afraid. Where are you flying from? Narita?"

"Yes," I said, "what should I do?"

"Well, go to Narita and try there."

"TRY, TRY????" I thought. How does one TRY at Narita airport? If one fails, what does one do? Oh well, no choice. I headed to Narita.

Normally, I would take the Chuo line to Shinjuku, then the Narita Express to the airport. It's the way I always do things. It's convenient and comfortable for me. Unfortunately, my attempt to buy a ticket went something like this;

"Excuse me, I'd like to buy a Narita Express ticket, please."

"The Narita Express is not running today," stated the incredibly pre-occupied-with-gluing-something-together staff member. 

"Uh, what? What should I do? How should I get to the airport?"

"Track 15 to Nippori. Take the Keisei line," replied Mr. Pre-occupied, without even looking up.

Thankfully, I made it to Nippori and from there things went much more smoothly. But let me tell you, the first few hours of my day nearly had me screaming in rage and frustration. 

Aftermath! Part 3

Press Conference by TEPCO (later on)

Dear People of Japan,

Hi! How are ya? Didja hear about that sumo scandal? Unbelievable, am I right? Lying bastards... By the way, to those of you living within a thirty-kilometre radius of the Onagawa Nuclear Power Plant, you, uh, might want to go out and buy a hazmat suit. Oh, but if I were you, I wouldn't leave the house, unless you want to end up looking like this handsome fellow.You also *might* want to avoid opening the doors, windows, you know, anything that lets in air from outside. Oh, and you know, I wouldn't eat any fruit or vegetables from around here, but well, I'm kinda picky, so you know, it's up to you. And the water? Doesn't taste so good these days. Yes, that's why you shouldn't drink it. The taste... 

One more thing, if you've been outside, dust yourselves off before entering your house, eh? That should get rid of any *radiation* that might, you know, have gotten on you from somewhere.

Aftermath! Part 2

Press Conference by TEPCO (the next day)

Dear People of Japan,

TEPCO is doing everything in its power to control the "situation" at the Onagawa Nuclear Power Plant. There was a *minor* problem, well, explosion really, but everything is great. Never better, in fact. A *few* people have been exposed to radiation, but a shower will clean them right up. Everything else in Fukushima? Gold.

Aftermath! Part 1

Press Conference by the Tokyo Electric Power Company (TEPCO)

Dear People of Japan,

You may have heard from *someone* (squinty eyes in the direction of foreign countries and press), that due to the earthquake and tsunami, reactors at the Onagawa Nuclear Power Plant have been compromised. I cannot emphasize enough how untrue this is. Mostly. Believe me: we have things under control. I dare say things are peachy.

(TEPCO employee whispers in ear)

Well, uh, it would seem that our backup generators are, uh, oh the fritz. But fear not! We've got it oh so covered. There's a whole ocean out there just full of cold water we can use to fix this. Same stuff that caused the problem. Oh, the ironing is delicious! I mean, irony. I mean, things are peachy.

(sound of explosion)

Er, uh, Blam! Kablooie! Oh, excuse me, it must have been that *bean* I ate at dinner. This press conference is over.

Earthquake! Photos

Forget the sidewalk - the road's so much faster.

Fuzzy, but crowded.

No bread products for you!

No spaghetti for you! But help yourself to macaroni.

No rice, and only a few more eggs.

Ramen? Forget it.

But... help yourself to Japanese noodles. Soba, udon for all!

Interesting that none of this sold.

This is pretty darn busy for our little supermarket. Oh, the mask is for the evil hay fever.

Earthquake! Part 4

Well, Tokyo is getting back to normal, or at least it's trying. Due to the energy shortage, however, trains are either cancelled or running reduced schedules, making for some very long waits. There are also scheduled blackouts in various areas. We had two scheduled for today, but they were both cancelled, which was nice. The threat of blackouts, however, has people buying food like you wouldn't believe. Most stores are out of rice and water, among other things. Our little supermarket was also out of bread products - feel free to dine on jam, though, there's still plenty of that - instant ramen, and, of all things, spaghetti. The Japanese aren't fans of other kinds of pasta, so there's still plenty of shell, macaroni, etc. This works for me. I'M SO TIRED OF SPAGHETTI!

I was planning on heading to work today, but H. requested that I stay home. Our train line was running, but reduced, and the crush was expected to be enormous. From what I've heard and seen, there were massive lines that took hours and hours. The same is expected for tomorrow... Yeech, I am definitely not looking forward to it. It almost makes me wish I lived along one of the train lines that isn't running.

The aftershocks continue, but there haven't been too many that we've been able to feel in Tokyo. The only one that stands out happened this morning while we were talking to my parents. I think it was a 5.-something, with its epicentre in Fukushima. They have a neat little ringing noise that they play on the news and radio to warn people. Of course, hearing it doesn't always mean things are going to start shaking, but still, it gives one time to fasten one's bicycle helmet (I am likely the only person who does this...).

Anyway, here are some photos, taken by iPhone.

This doesn't do the crowds justice.

 

Friday's walk. One of two damaged buildings.

Would you like some jam with your... jam?

 

 

 

Earthquake! Part Three

In fact, the earthquake wasn't responsible for the majority of deaths. Just like in the Great Kanto Earthquake, it was what happened afterwards that did the most damage. The Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923 occurred just about lunchtime when everyone was using gas to cook. The fires that spread as a result of broken gas lines wiped out huge swathes of the city and there were charred bodies floating down the rivers, lying on the street, etc. The Edo-Tokyo Museum has a fantastic display on that earthquake, for anyone who finds him/herself in Tokyo one day.

Gas lines automatically shut off these days, but there's not much planning you can do to stop a tsunami, and it was just that after yesterday's earthquake that caused the casualties to soar and sent the financial cost of rebuilding skyrocketing. You've all seen the images by now, I imagine, so you know as much as I do pretty much. When we were watching the news in the evening, they had to cut the video on at least one occasion when it became clear they might be broadcasting someone's death. Why people insisted on driving near the ocean, though, does boggle the mind. And driving parallel to the ocean... I would have been speeding away from the ocean, methinks.

Anyway, H. and I made it to his family's home at around 11pm. H. had called his mum to come get us when the traffic appeared to be improving, but it got worse again and we ended up meeting her only about a twenty-minute walk from the house. Driving back took almost as long. She filled us with warm soup, tasty treats and tea and then drove us home to our apartment, where, amazingly, only three things had fallen (including a mountain of laundry). Unbelievable. Considering the stuff that went flying at my office, and that was only the fourth floor, I was sure our ground-floor apartment would be at least almost as messy, especially considering my habit of stacking. Again, I LOVE Japanese building codes, as well as Japanese cupboards which close with a snap, just for these occasions.

Aftershocks continued all night, in addition to two completely unrelated earthquakes on the other side of Japan that we could feel in Tokyo. It made for an uneasy sleep. I haven't felt an aftershock since this morning, though I know it will remain a possibility for several more weeks. Right now, the worry is several nuclear power plants that have had some failures. Japanese nuclear reactors are built, of course, to extremely high safety standards that take into consideration Japan's instability, but well, it's hard to plan for an earthquake this big. And to all the people who wonder why on earth Japan even has them when it gets earthquakes, I ask you this: in a country with so few natural resources, how else do you think it can generate power to cover roughly 127 million people and a developed (if ailing) economy? Japan's in a bit of a bind on the energy front. But it does its best.

Okay, that brings me to the end of the story... so far. H. managed to get a few iPhone photos last night, but the light is pretty bad. I'll try to get them online anyway. I'll end things with a little prayer for the people up north, for those who are missing, for those missing loved ones, for those who have already been found too late, and for those working so hard to take care of everything and everyone.

And don't forget: Fireproof hat.

Earthquake!: Part Two

Sometimes you really have to hand it to the Japanese. I always thought that the plentiful public washrooms were a sexual assault/molesting waiting to happen, but man, after an earthquake, they're like manna from God (non-edible manna to be sure, but something wonderful none-the-less). S., who had been unable to finish his business during the earthquake (you try peeing through violent shaking), was eager to find a washroom. So was I. When pregnant ladies need to pee, they need to pee. That taken care of, it was off to Meiji-Jingu Mae (S.'s meeting place) and Yoyogi (my dojo, where H. was). At this point, the cell phone network was swamped and down. I did my part, of course, to contribute to the jamming, by attempting to call and text my husband ad nauseam.

Oh boy, how the streets of Tokyo can get crowded when the trains aren't running. The areas around train stations were jammed with people. And people walk slowly. Far. Too. Slowly. But, I made it to Yoyogi and to my dojo where my husband and a sempai, K-san, were watching the news on our Kancho's TV. Relief! Well, relief to see my husband, and K-san of course. Relief to see that Tokyo was spared the worst of the damage. Not so much of a relief to see images of tsunami sweeping cars, boats and houses away, and buildings on fire. It was one of those "but for the grace of God..." moments.

We could have stayed at the dojo all night, but with aftershocks few and far between, and with the knowledge that we'd have to walk it in the morning anyway, we choose to head home on foot. This would definitely not have been possible had I been on my own. Roads in Tokyo are just impossible. Apparently, convenience stores were giving away free maps to help Tokyo-ites who didn't know the way home. Others were using their phones' GPS units. H. has lived in the area his whole life and has a car, meaning that he knows the roads. Another bit of luck running in our favour was that I am a comfort-over-fashion girl who works in a casual office, so I was wearing sneakers and comfy clothes. Actually, better than sneakers: hiking shoes. Boo yeah. Let me tell you, I did not envy the stylishness of the Tokyo ladies in stilettos last night at all.

Restaurants that stayed open did brisk business last night. So did karaoke places, manga cafes, convenience stores (was there an onigiri left in all of Tokyo??) and, one would assume, hotels. Places were really good about letting people use their washrooms, and we passed one home that had set up a table and chairs in their garage area and were serving tea and cookies to weary walkers. Nope, no pillaging for Tokyo.

As far as damage went, while we did stick to the main roads, we only saw two damaged buildings in four or five hours of walking. The damage was minimal - broken glass, a bit of concrete off the wall. Japan has strict building codes precisely for this reason. The codes can't prevent all damage, especially in an 8.9 mag earthquake, but they do go a long way towards minimizing damage and loss of life. Buildings are built to sway here. That's why being in a high-rise exaggerates earthquakes to the point where you exclaim "now THAT must have been at least a 7!" when in fact, it was but a 3.5. Tall buildings can sway several metres in either direction. It's scary, but better some swaying than a lot of collapsing. Concrete is also reinforced. In the photos from Sendai, you can see where concrete has fallen off the building, but the still-standing building is a criss-cross of steel wires. You still don't want to get stuck under falling concrete, but at least the building is less likely to tip over onto you.

Earthquake!

A fireproof hat is on my 2011 Christmas list. Just so you know. Either that or a good helmet. They say this kind of earthquake is a once-in-a-lifetime thing, but still, I'd rather have the hat and not use it than be at the epicentre next time without one. But we were lucky, so incredibly lucky, here in Tokyo. I cannot begin to imagine if 8.9 had struck off Tokyo Bay. Odaiba would have sunk. Artificial islands have a tricky habit of doing that. And how Japan would have dug itself out, not just physically, but financially as well, is beyond me. As it is, they're already estimating that it will cost $10 billion. Japan doesn't have that kind of money. Who does these days?

The day started off as usual, as so often happens. I headed to work, my husband to our karate dojo. I was scheduled to finish at 3pm and was just wrapping things up (and putting off using the washroom, which would become annoying) when, at about 2.46pm, things started to shake. This being Japan, no one really was too concerned. There were no immediate dives for cover by any means. Earthquakes happen. They're usually short and sweet (or at least small). The people walking around the office didn't even notice. But then things started to shake more and people began to stabilize the loose objects close at hand - water bottles, computer monitors, magazines, etc. I choose to grip my desk in a white-knuckle fashion, as is my habit during little earthquakes.

The shaking didn't end at moderate, however, and soon people were leaning up against cabinets to keep doors shut, or else half-way under their desks with free hands stabilizing what they could. You'd think things couldn't have gotten worse, but they did and our floor manager gave the order to cower. He didn't have to ask me twice, although some people stayed standing to try to protect expensive equipment. I chose to yell at my neighbour, who was still leaning against a cabinet: "Get under the Goddamn desk, C.!" I think that's what I said anyway.

After the shaking, and ignoring the piles of stuff on the floor (apparently, we lost a rather nice TV...), our manager, N., thought it might be an idea to locate our emergency evacuation area. That's why N. is in charge. We were only on the fourth floor, having moved from a tenth-floor office in January (thank GOD. Even minor earthquakes feel like the Big One when you're that high up), so the trip to outside wasn't so daunting. We found the area (a cemetery, how morbid) and headed back to the office just in time for a rather unsettling aftershock. That kept us outside, and eventually sent us back to the evacuation area. We waited and waited and waited, with sirens blaring every once in a while, and muffled loudspeaker announcements that no one could understand.

Me: So, um, does that siren mean that we're all clear, or does it mean something else?
Co-worker: um, it means that another 'quake is coming.
Me (starting to walk a heck of a lot faster to clear the tunnel): uh-huh, um, tunnels...

Eventually, N. let us know that the building was being locked up, and we were free to go home, if that was a possibility. I was late to meet H. and luckily had a co-worker heading in the same direction to meet his wife (and he knew the way to boot), so off I headed. Now, S. had been using the washroom at the time and said that his first thought was "Man, this is NOT how I wanted to go." But I have since been told that Japanese washrooms are incredibly well-built rooms and if you lack a good table to hide under, they are the go-to place. I guess some things are the same no matter where you are. Still, I can't get the image of the bathtub from upstairs crashing through my ceiling out of my mind.

Springtime Huzzah!

Ohisashiburi! Longtime no post! PS - click for larger photos.

H. at Musashino Koen

Being a Canadian kid, I love snow and I love winter, but after five or so months of icy weather, the first spring melt is always a welcome breath of fresh air. You know it's going to snow again, but still, it gives one hope.


Well, spring is not quite the same in Tokyo as it is back home (except for the knowledge that it will get cold again before it gets warm for good), but still, the first warm days bring a certain amount of giddiness with them. There's just something refreshing about not being able to see your breath when you wake up in the morning (and I mean inside the house - oh central heating, how I miss you!). 

Hark! A bird!

Just a week or two ago, we had quite a snowfall here (for Tokyo). It was perfectly Robert Frost-esque. H. and I took the opportunity to go to the park and build a big snowman with a traffic cone for a hat. We built a smaller one just outside our apartment (no hat). Unfortunately, the falling snow was so wet we thought we ought not take our cameras, but trust me, it was heavenly.


The snow lasted approximately three days (and really, that's stretching it - it was mostly gone by noon the next day), and but a short time later, the thermometer reached 20C. Yup. 20C. In February. Oh, kaloo kalay! 

Toad. Not singing. Just chillin'.

Do you know what the first day of warm weather means in Tokyo? I thought it just meant no more kotatsu (*sigh*), but it actually means toads. Lots of them. Big ones. All over the place (well, park). And lots of singing. Singing toads looking for mates. H. and I went walking in the park Friday evening and the pond was fairly teeming with them. When we went back today, the pond was a tangle of toad eggs. Now, I've seen toad eggs before, but this was unbelievable. It looked like a snarl of giant worms or intestines or something. Gross. But if it means lots of cute little tadpoles/pollywogs and toads, then that's cool.  

Gross eggs.

The warm weather also means that the ume blossoms (plum blossoms) start coming out in full force. They've been blooming in fits and starts since late December, but the past few days have really got them going. H. and I spent the afternoon wandering and snapping photos of them (and toads). We also spent the day suffering from another sign of spring: hay fever. How I despise you, cypress trees! It's almost enough to make a girl wish that spring would pack up and go the way of the dodo, but then again, no: waking up with a sneeze is still better than waking up to a 5C room.

Vegetable garden in February. Sweet!

Fishing pond. No old men today. Weird.

Rice paddy. Currently tadpole hatchery.

Don't know what this is.

Ume!

Sakura!? Hayai, ne! (Cherry blossom!? Early, eh!)

More ume.

And more ume.

Summertime in the City - Bon Odori: Higashi-Koganei Video

Summertime in the City - Bon Odori: Nankin Tama Sudare Video

Summertime in the City - Bon Odori

"Hotte hotte, mata hotte, katsuide katsuide, ato sagari, oshite oshite, hiraite, cho-chong-ga-chong"

Higashi-Koganei Bon Odori

If you're going to go to a Bon Odori in Tokyo, this is one of the dances you're going to need to know. It's easy, thanks to the words above. They're instructions read in the rhythm of the dance. It translates roughly as "dig, dig, dig again, (carry on your) shoulder, (carry on your) shoulder, afterwards back up, push, push, open (your arms), clap, clap. Of course, you're not actually digging, just going through the motions. H.'s grandfather taught it to him when he was just a little thing. H.'s niece, M., taught me the dance with the help of YouTube last year.

Higashi-Koganei Bon Odori

There are a bunch of other dances, too, but they're an awful lot harder (but still do-able - a Bon Odori isn't exactly a place where you have to be good at dancing). All you have to do is follow one of the community ladies in a special yukata (summer kimono) and copy, copy, copy. But even they don't know all of the dances and end up copying each other. It's like one giant line of copy-cats, all craning to see what the person-who-knows-what-he-or-she-is-doing is doing.

H. and J. in Higashi-Koganei

For the second year in a row, H. and I went to our own little community Bon Odori in Higashi-Koganei. We took along a visiting friend, J., all decked out in a new yukata purchased earlier in the day in Asakusa. H. and I were in yukata, too, making us the most Japanese-y group there. Between the entertainment, which included taiko drummers, an enka singer, and a cheer-leading club, and the plentiful and cheap food (yaki soba, frankfurters, snow cones, candy floss, yaki tori, etc.), it was a glorious night of fun. 


A few weeks before the Higashi-Koganei Bon Odori, H. and I happened upon another Bon Odori, this time out Tachikawa way, on our way home from a day spent relaxing and barbeque-ing at Aki-kawa (Aki River). It was smaller than our own, but it also had an extra bit of Japanese culture: Nankin Tama Sudare, a really neat routine, involving a bunch of little sticks connected with string, that traditional Japanese "clowns" perform (although not very often these days). H. had actually never seen it live. For me, it was completely new. And, somehow, I found myself up on stage amongst a group of children, being taught how to do some basic shapes with the sticks. I suppose not surprisingly, I am now the proud owner of my own set (though it is disappointingly small). Also not surprisingly, nankin tama sudare also has a rhyme, as addictive as "The Song that Never Ends". 

"Asatte, asatte, asatte wa, nankin tama sudare..."

Tachikawa-area Bon Odori

Summertime in the City - the Awa Odori: Video Three

At the end of this video, there is some pretty great drumming. And, for the third time, it's all care of H.

Summertime in the City - the Awa Odori: Video Two

Some more footage. Again, care of H.

Summertime in the City - the Awa Odori: Video One

Awa Odori, Musashi-Koganei, 2010. Care of H.

Summertime in the City - the Awa Odori

"The dancers are fools, the watchers are fools, both are fools alike, so why not dance?"

 Well, I don't dance in this festival - it takes practice (which I may or may not do while walking down the street), but it sure is lovely to watch, if not a little noisy, what with the drums, flutes, clang-y things, whacking bamboo, and singing. But then, what good festival isn't noisy?

The Awa Odori is from Tokushima, Shikoku. H. and I went to see it last year. We camped around Shikoku for ten days, getting caught in a typhoon while we were at it. We also saw the Yosa Koi festival, but the Awa Odori was the one that stood out. It was fabulous! In Tokushima, the streets are long and wide. It's almost like the city was built to hold the festival.

Like most major festivals, though, a version of the Awa Odori (several, actually) are celebrated in areas outside of Shikoku. Tokyo has at least a handful, the most famous being Koenji. But while Koenji may be the most happening of the Tokyo Awa Odori, it is also the most reminiscent of being trapped in a sardine can. Good luck navigating the streets, or even breathing for that matter. H. and I went to Koenji last year. It was an experience, but crowds are not my forte, nor is getting other people's sweat all over my clothes (it's THAT crowded and Tokyo is blisteringly hot in the summer).

This year we decided to skip it and instead went to Musashi-Koganei and Nakameguro's Awa Odori. Musashi-Koganei's was a little disappointing, but only because the area around the station was under construction, making for some rather unfortunate backgrounds. Sitting on the curb for so long also resulted in some painful pins and needles, but what's a little numbness for something so beautiful? At right is one of the drummers, H.'s favourite part of the festival. One of the most exciting things is when the drummers stop and just pound away, dipping down low as they wail on their drums.

Nakameguro's was against a much nicer backdrop (a shopping street). AND, what made it even better was that we managed to score some stools and fans: like I said before, Japanese summers are hot! Of course, the fact that there was a dragon only sweetened the deal. The other Awa Odori's didn't have that. They had people acting as kites, which was amazing. The narrow streets of Tokyo, however, don't really lend themselves well to that sort of thing, though. Dragon made up for it. 

My friend, J., was also in town, and we lucked out getting to show her something so quintessentially Japanese, even if it means we are fools.