Takayama by Train

We're off to Takayama - a small town in the mountains - for our three-day weekend. We figure we'd better take advantage of these get-aways while we can! Here's what Lonely Planet Japan says about Takayama: 

"With its old inns, shops and sake breweries, Takayama is a rarity - a city (admittedly a small one) that has managed to retain its traditional charm. Vibrant morning markets, hillside shrines and a laid-back populace add to the town's allure, and it should be a high priority on any visit to central Honshu."

We're taking the shinkansen (a.k.a. 'bullet train') - another of my favorite Japanese ingenuities  - to Nagoya. From there, we'll hop on the JR Wide-View train to the little town of traditional charm. 

Toji Temple Sale

A few colleagues and I headed out early this morning to the Toji Temple Sale in Kyoto. Temple and shrine sales are nothing more than outdoor flea markets - but in beautiful surroundings - and are a great way to spend a Sunday afternoon. After finding a few treasures (kokeshi dolls, lanterns, and gongs) we headed into the old district of Kyoto for lunch. We stumbled into a great place, and I discovered a new favorite dish - I believe the translation was 'hot and spicy black sesame noodle soup'. It was oishii! Here are a few photos from the day.

Three Cups of Tea

Jon and I joined a book club this year, and our first book was Three Cups of Tea: One Man's Mission to Promote Peace...One School at a Time by Greg Mortenson. It's an amazing story of how one man, after failing to climb K2, decided to dedicate his life to changing the lives of others by building schools for girls in remote regions of Pakistan and Afghanistan. To date, he has helped build more than 60 schools and several other community-based programs in the region. 

Moretnson is also a co-founder of the Central Asia Institute, a non-profit organization that continues to carry out his mission of promoting peace via education, and one of its programs Pennies for Peace.

The evidence that one man really can make a difference is incredibly inspirational. It has me wondering what I could be doing to make a difference in this world. Should I finally submit an application to the Room to Read program, an idea I've been considering ever since ordering the book Leaving Microsoft to Change the World by John Wood (not John Wood as in Jon's uncle, but John Wood a former Microsoft Director of Business Development)? Perhaps I'll contact that friend of my aunt who makes baby quilts to send to Russian orphanages - maybe I could join her cause, a cause that now hits close to home. Perhaps I could do both... For someone who is so moved by these kinds of stories and the unselfish act of giving, why do I do so little of it?  

I love the title of this book, Three Cups of Tea. At first I wondered why he chose this title, but I soon realized just how fitting it is. The three cups of tea are symbolic of Mortenson's dealings with the village elders of Pakistan. The first time he was invited for tea, he was a stranger. The second time, a friend. By the third cup, Mortensen was considered family. Negotiations were never made without first sharing a cup of tea! Now that I'm about to start my chadō lessons, I'm fascinated by the power of tea, or 'the cup of humanity' as Okakura Kakuzo refers to it in The Book of Tea. Nearly every culture in the world has its traditions surrounding tea, and people the world over take delight in the simple act of sipping and sharing a cup. 

"The story of tea is the story of humankind in a nutshell, or perhaps a teacup. It includes the best and worst of who we are and what we do. Throughout its long history, tea has been used as medicine, as an aid to meditation, as currency, as bribes, and as a means of controlling rebellions. It has been the instigation for wars and global conflicts. It has also been the reason for parties, for family gatherings, and for high-society occasions. In short, tea has touched and changed our lives as no other beverage has, connecting us all - from the workers to the monks, from the pluckers to the emperors, from the British to the Chinese, to me."

- From Tea: The Drink that Changed the World by Laura C. Martin

Chadō - The Way of Tea

I've decided to study Japanese tea ceremony -  chanoyu (hot water for tea) or chadō, (the way of tea) - this year. Steeped in etiquette and aesthetics, this centuries-old tradition has evolved into an art form and has come to reflect the very essence of the Japanese culture. The spirit of chadō is based on four principles: wa (harmony), kei (respect), sei (purity), and jaku (tranquility). Rooted in Zen Buddhism, the Japanese tea ceremony emphasizes modesty, simplicity, and a sense of spirituality.

Our school just built a new tea room, designed by our instructor (and tea master) Tami-san. It's a beautiful room, and stepping inside, you feel as though you've entered another world. Here are a few pictures I took during a student demonstration last week. 

I look forward to learning this art and a bit more of the Japanese culture. Classes begin September 8. In the meantime, I'm reading up on tea and chadō in Tea Ceremony by Shozo Sato; Tea: the Drink that Changed the World by Laura C. Martin; and The Book of Tea by Okakura Kakuzo.

More Good News

We woke to an email from our agency this morning saying that the MOE (Ministry of Education) in Kaliningrad expects activity to pick up this fall. Our coordinator was surprised to hear from them so soon, which feels like a good sign!  Hopefully, we'll have more news in a month or so. 

On Monday, we will have been waiting for two months.  Looks like our 3-6 month timeframe could be accurate.

Happy New Year?

School started today. Just as the year really ends when school's out, so it begins when school's back in session. While I'm never happy to see the lazy days of summer come to an end, I'm never completely unhappy about going back to work, either. 

But I am missing those long cups of coffee and the leisurely dinner preparations I'd grown accustomed to over the last two weeks. After a full day of work, I can't seem to plan a decent meal to save my life! And as if to drive the point home, there is an unusually cool breeze tonight. Completely out of character for this time of year, we have the AC off and all the windows open. It feels great, but is summer really over?

Becoming My Mother

It's been coming on for a while now. This slow transformation into my mother. It became official this week as I found myself making mini loaves of bread to give to people at work. Gift-giving is a national pastime here in Japan, and I've discovered that I, like my mother, would much rather give home-baked goods than store-bought items. I have vivid memories of watching, and occasionally helping, my mom turn out loaf after loaf of her delicious breads - coconut, zucchini, cinnamon swirl - when the holidays rolled around. I knew these were special gifts even at a young age. The time and attention that goes into making something by hand makes any homemade gift special. Something to be appreciated. Hopefully, my Japanese co-workers will feel the same!

Other indications of my transformation? Starting new quilting projects before I finish the last one. Definitely one of my mother's traits! Not only did she teach me the basics of quilting, but she's also taught me that there's no shame in starting more projects than I can hope to finish in a lifetime! I'm glad quilting is a hobby we share, and I love that it has become a tradition that we travel to our favorite quilt store in Plattsmouth each time I'm back for a visit. There is something so satisfying about choosing the perfect fabrics and turning them into a work of art. Well, I don't know that my quilts can be considered works of art, but my mother's are nothing less. Not only did I pick up her love of quilting, I have clearly inherited her fanatic-about-fabric gene. My stash isn't anything near what hers is, but I'm starting to buy and stockpile fabrics at an unnatural and alarming rate. Unnatural because I can't possibly hope to use all these fabrics as quickly as I buy them. Alarming because I have no place in this apartment to store them!

Then there's organizing a dinner party. My mother taught me well the art (anal retentiveness?) of paying attention to detail. Not only should a meal be balanced and tasty, it should also be pleasing to the eye - pretty on the plate! Are there different colors and textures to the meal? A chicken breasts-mashed potatoes-cooked cauliflower menu would never do! (I loved the way the skinny green beans complimented the plump red tomatoes the other evening - no accident, that.) And I've certainly, without a doubt, inherited her love of all things culinary. Tools and gadgets and appliances aplenty! Dishes and linens and cordial glasses galore! If they're from the flea market and have a history behind them - all the better. Just as my mother would, I spend as much time - if not more - on the delivery of a dinner as I do on the actual meal itself. Not in a pretentious way, but out of a genuine desire to create a pleasing atmosphere.

Like mother, like daughter - I am all about atmosphere. Not appearances, but atmosphere. I love it when a place feels cozy and homey and welcoming. A place that begs a visitor to stay a while. My parents' place is exactly that - cozy and homey and welcoming. (It's also jammed-packed full of flea market finds and antique shop treasures. If you've been to their house, you know exactly what I mean! But somehow, she makes it all work.) I love the feeling I get when I walk into their house after a long absence. It's the feeling of coming home. My mother has a knack for making a house a home with all her personal touches. Increasingly, I'm finding that this is something I also dwell on. Making my house - a small apartment, in this case - a home. A place with character. A place with atmosphere. A place in which a visitor might wish to stay for a while.  

We're definitely birds of a feather, my mom and I. And maybe we're a couple of odd ducks (birds - another of our shared passions!). Whatever it is, we're very much alike. I have no qualms about becoming my mother. I happen to think she's a wonderful woman. I can only hope that the transformation continues as I journey forward into motherhood. May I be the kind of mother she has been to me. 

Dinner for Eight

I'm cooking for eight tonight. While it won't be all local fare, I was able to buy a few ingredients from the shop down at the River Mall. The watermelon, onions, and garlic are all organic (and local, I assume). I was hoping to pick up more tomatoes from this shop since the ones they sold last week were perfectly plump, red, and juicy. But there were only a few stragglers left, and I needed several for the stuffed tomatoes. So, those came from the grocery store - and from who-knows-where, originally. Most of the produce I'm using is in season, and hopefully more of it is local than I realize. I can't read the labels! (Note to self: must learn Japanese!) As for what's on the menu, several French dishes jumped out at me as I was flipping through my cookbooks, so it's Bistro style tonight. On the menu we have:

• Watermelon cocktails 
• Hors d'oeuvres

• Poulet au vinaigre
• Provençal tomatoes
• Haricots verts with shallots

• Peaches and cream

It's been a while since I've cooked for a crowd, and I'm looking forward to all the chopping, simmering, and sautéing. It's a general rule of thumb that you shouldn't try out new recipes on your dinner guests, but here I go! Terie & Julie, I'll be missing mis compañeras de la cocina today. But I'm happy to do without the broken-down car, the backed-up sewer, and what else was it...? By the way, it's 8:00 AM here. Do you think it's too early to crack open a Corona?

Isn't food beautiful? I wish you could smell this mint via the Web - it's heavenly!

The Power of Politics and A Look at Language

As the world of international adoption continues to cycle through its ups and downs (Vietnam and Guatemala are threatening to close/are closing their doors due to the possibility of corrupt systems), we have to wonder if the current situation between Russia and Georgia will affect Russian adoptions. If the US gets involved, political repercussions could certainly slow things down. Needless to say, we're hoping for a quick - and peaceful - resolution to the fighting there.

On another note, I've been reading about positive adoption language. Since we immersed ourselves in the world of adoption several months ago, I started to notice that some words seemed more positive than others when discussing adoption. 'Positive' adoption language now feels more like 'normal' adoption language to me, but a few phrases still stand out when I come across them. For example:

• This is our child (not: This is our adopted child)
• He was adopted (not: He is adopted)

While the first one seems like a no-brainer to me, I've recently become aware of how often people (the media, especially) differentiate between biological children and adopted children. I don't believe that any harm is meant when people describe someone as being adopted, but I can see how this seemingly innocent adjective could imply that children who were adopted are inherently different from children who joined their families by birth. Our kids are our kids no matter how they come to us (even though ours has yet to come to us!), right? So, unless the topic comes up directly, I won't be introducing anyone as our adopted child. He'll just be our child. Our son. Or our daughter. They'll really throw us for a loop if it's a girl, but that's a different post!

As for the other phrase that stands out, I hadn't given this one much - or any - thought before. He was adopted, rather than he is adopted. The key point being that the adoption was an event, a one-time occurrence. It's not a 'condition' that someone carries with him the rest of his life. Again, I know that when someone uses is instead of was (gasp!) no harm is meant. But now that it's been pointed out to me, I can hear the difference. Don't worry, I'm not turning into the adoption language police waiting for someone to commit crimes of syntax! I'm just thinking out loud.

If you're interested in the article I was reading, click below.

Positive Adoption Language

Food for Thought

  

I purchased both of these books last year just before moving to Japan, and I knew immediately that I would love them both. But have I given either of them the time they deserve? Sadly, no. Not until now. I finally cracked them both open this week and am eating them up, so to speak! Animal, Vegetable, Miracle reads like a story, better from beginning to end; while On Food and Cooking is best read in pieces, as need or interest arises.

Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver (author of one of my favorites, Prodigal Summer) is the story of how the Kingsolver family moves back to their roots in Appalachia with the goal of living in close contact with the food they eat. They plan to eat locally, responsibly, and seasonally. Meaning, they will eat food that's in season and that comes from their own garden, county, or region as opposed to food that's shipped half way around the world to reach them. The energy and fuel it takes to refrigerate, store, and transport food to all corners of the earth isn't the best thing for our planet. And, obviously, food that isn't at its freshest, purest, and tastiest isn't that great for us. I'm only a few chapters in, but I'm already wishing I had a place in the country with my own garden out back. And maybe a hen house. I can almost taste the freshness of just-picked produce and just-laid eggs. Someday, I'll be able to live and eat like this. 

Finding locally grown produce in Japan is challenging. I haven't yet found a local farmers' market that I can frequent, although there's the occasional man selling fruits and veggies on the island. Just the other day, I stumbled upon someone selling fresh produce down at the River Mall. He wasn't selling from the street, but from an actual store. Hopefully he's setting up shop and will be there somewhat regularly. Some of his items were organic, some weren't. But they were all local. The tomatoes, onions, chiles, and garlic made a tasty salsa! My other challenge in the eat-locally arena stems from the fact that I haven't yet acquired a taste for the mountain vegetables and sea creatures found in many of the dishes here. "When in Japan..." isn't quite the same as "When in Rome..." when it comes to my palate (but I'm trying!). So I continue to buy familiar foods that are imported from thousands of miles away at ridiculous prices. I don't have a yard for a garden to help cut down my 'food footprint', but I'm growing herbs on the terrace. I've had a bit of success with rosemary, basil, chives, cilantro, and parsley.  It isn't much, but I guess every little bit helps, right?

On Food and Cooking by Harold McGee is about exactly what the subtitle suggests: The Science and Lore of the Kitchen. It's full of interesting morsels of information on just about every food you can think of. I've been reading about mustard and sherry this week, two ingredients in a new marinade I was trying. Did you know that mustard, horseradish, and wasabi are all related? I knew horseradish and wasabi had to be close kin, but I'd never considered mustard to be from the same clan. However, I suspected it might be one of them after the new dijon I bought attacked my mouth, nose, and eyes the way wasabi does. Sure enough, there on page 415 it says that all three are members of the cabbage family and have irritant defenses (isothiocyanates) that cause a "head-filling hotness" when the irritant molecules are liberated. (This sounds like a politcal coup!) I find it interesting that the prepared condiments that come from these plants all come from different parts of their respected plants - mustard ground from the seeds, horseradish grated from the root, and wasabi scraped from the stem.

"Of the various spices that manage to please us by causing irritation and pain, the mustards and their relatives are unique..." I'd never thought of mustard in such masochistic terms!

August in Kobe

You know it's August in Kobe when...

• a 91F day could easily be mistaken for a 91C day, thanks to humidity on steroids  
• the cicadas start their acoustic workout at 5:00 AM and proceed to deafen you all day
• the slightly sweet, slightly musty smell of tatami permeates your entire apartment
• your cats shed an alarming amount of hair at an alarmingly fast rate
• jet lag has you convinced that starting your day at 3:30 AM is perfectly normal

We had our first taste of August in Kobe a year ago today.  Hard to believe it's already been one year!

More News from Kaliningrad

We came home to more good news from Kaliningrad. Another FTIA family was registered in the region, which now makes two of us. The Ministry of Education in K'grad said that it won't register any more dossiers from our agency until one of the two waiting families receives and accepts a referral (typical practice, I think, in this small region). They also said that the estimated timeframe from registration to referral is 3-6 months, with the second trip taking place 1.5-2 months after that. This is great news! We were registered at the end of June, and at that time there was no clear indication of how long we should expect to wait. According to this new information, and if all goes well, we **might** have a referral by Christmas.

(As I write this, at a very jet-lagged 4:00 AM, guess who is snuggled up on my lap?)

Homeward Bound

We're heading to the airport in a few minutes. Already, I can't wait to get off those planes, off that bus, into our apartment, and onto our couch - with two little creatures snuggled up beside me. Never mind that it'll be much too hot for such furry affection. But when has heat and humidity stopped Nazca and Pisco from stealing our laps? Who would have guessed that a couple of street cats from Lima would be such snugglers?

It's been a great summer, but I'm ready for home. I've missed our gatitos so!

Sittin' on the Dock of the Bay Scenes of Summer - Part 2

Ahh...the cottage. The cottage. A trip to this secluded bit of paradise is always one of the summer's highlights. We were able to squeeze in two trips to the cottage this summer - one with Jon's family and another with our good friends Jana & Jeff. The weather was on the wet and cool side both times, but no matter. The views and the vibes remained the same - perfectly peaceful. One of our favorite spots is down on the dock, which sits in the bay and looks out across the lake. We can sit there for hours watching the natural world unfold around us... 

A spider secures her egg sac

Seagulls search for a snack

The beaver chews a birch branch

The loons perform a dance?

A water snake seeks a spot of sun

A mother merganser teaches her young

The kingfisher dives for fish

A shooting star casts a wish

(Disclaimer: I'm no poet. And I know it. But as I started to jot down the scenes we saw from the dock this year, they were coming out in rhymes. So I went with it!)

Thanks, Tom & Mar, for sharing this wonderful place with us!

We Be Jammin'

Margaret is the queen of raspberry jam. In just a few hours today, she made 31 jars of her red yummy goodness. Add those to the 12 jars she has stashed away in the basement, and I think we've got a new song in there somewhere. "Forty-three jars of jam on the wall... forty-three jars of jam..." Without a doubt, it's one of her trademarks (along with her chocolate cake and her cheesies) and one of the flavors I look forward to savoring each summer. I was lucky enough to get in on the action for the last batch, and now I'm determined to start making my own raspberry jam when I return to Kobe. I won't reveal any secret family recipes here, but I will say that I plan on jamming (ha!) a few packets of Certo Liquid Pectin into my suitcase before we leave.

Movement in K'grad

We heard today that a family from another agency received a referral for a 10-month old boy in Kaliningrad at the end of June. They traveled during the first week of July, accepted the referral, and were assigned their court date for six weeks later. This is great news - it means things are moving again in K'grad. I kept hearing from people who'd been waiting for 22 months, 29 months... and was getting worried that we might be in for a long wait. This particular family only waited 4-5 months for their referral. We still don't know how long we'll be waiting, but at least there's movement!