Random

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Shaky

That describes my legs, mostly.  I was at home when Japan experienced an 8.8 9.0 magnitude earthquake.  It hit off the Northeast coast, caused a massive tsunami and aftershocks which continued into the night.  We felt it in Tokyo, where my solid apartment building shook for what seemed like forever.

I had time to register that the floor was throbbing, notice my laundry swaying on the drying rack.  I had time to tell myself to calm down, look out the window, and realize I shouldn’t be by the window.  I told myself to wait it out.  I had time to walk to the hallway, realize the tremor was getting stronger, find my keys and phone, slip on shoes and dart outside.  I didn’t lock the door.  Thankfully for my legs, which were barely holding me up at this point, it is a short half-flight of stairs before I’m out the back door, where I stood in the street with neighbors as we looked at our respective buildings in shock and amazement.  A taxi drove by and at first I thought he was laughing at my over-reaction, then realized it was a nervous giggle.

The Japan Times reports this earthquake was one of the strongest to have ever hit Japan, bigger even than the 1923 Great Kanto earthquake, which registers every time I read about a “historic” temple or shrine that was rebuilt after it crumbled the city.

I took a walk around the block to calm down and met many of my neighbors.  Usually we pass with barely a glimpse, but today everyone was meeting my eye, and more nervous giggles.  Maybe they were amused by my scene — speed walking, without a coat but wearing the new hat my Dad sent me.  Announcements came from loud speakers I didn’t even know were there, presumably telling me to speed-walk myself home.

After awhile, it became hard to tell if the Earth was moving or if it was just my heart pounding.  I spent the afternoon with one eye on my laundry, my personal barometer of earth-sway.

I wasn’t prepared at all, which I am a bit ashamed to admit.  But also, I didn’t feel panic or even much worry about not being prepared.  When living in the US, I knew exactly what to do in the case of tornadoes (Minnesota) and hurricanes (Washington, DC).  Radio, flashlights and candles, cribbage board, snacks, beer, toilet paper.  Then wait it out.  I had no idea what to expect in the case of an earthquake, and I couldn’t understand what the radio was saying had I procured one.

My new emergency lifeline of choice?  Twitter.  I was alone in my apartment, but I wasn’t really alone.  Phones were down, I couldn’t call Dan.  My email was working, but the connection was too slow for my liking.  Twitter kept me afloat.  I got news in real-time.  I had people sending me notes, checking on me, asking if I was OK.  I asked them what to do, they told me.  Another aftershock, blerg! We commiserated.  It was a huge network of people, hanging in there together.

So what did they recommend I do?  Fill the bathtub with water, in case of a water main break.  I also learned that if you forget you are filling the tub, it will stop automatically and it will play a cheery little song to tell you it’s done.  I pulled out warm clothes, filled water bottles, and put cookies into a bag.  I watched the news.  But what else?  The worst was over for me, but I felt like I was missing something.  Watching flood waters overtake Sendai was devastating.  What else could I do?

I took a walk, which was the best thing I did all day.  After my initial lap (or, 3) around the block, I’d only been to the window to watch the nearby workmen watch their new building.  So I went to the grocery store and picked up some things for dinner and the next few days.  And I saw everyone else going on with their business — the grocery store was busy, but not harried.  Some people carried hardhats with them, many were waiting for buses (trains were shut down).  The neighborhood was bustling but calm, which was reassuring.  I knew I was doing the right thing.  I tried to pick up some candles, but they didn’t seem to carry them.  Batteries and cellphone chargers, on the other hand, were sold out.  So I bought beer and went home.

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Valentine Sweets

In Japan, it is a Valentine’s Day custom for women to give men chocolates. I don’t even love chocolate that much, and I feel cheated.

You are supposed to give your Valentine handmade chocolates and reserve the store-bought stuff for friends and coworkers, but I saw these and couldn’t resist:

Highball-filled chocolates. Dan called them whiskey Gushers. Eeew. Or, ooooh?

I’m looking forward to White Day, the holiday on March 14th when men reciprocate. According to trusty Wikipedia, I can expect jewelry, white chocolate, or marshmallows.

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!

Update – I just found this.  Totally eeew.

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Christmastime in Twinkle Town

Merry Christmas everyone!  I just needed to share, here is what Christmas looks like in Japan:

Roppongi Illumination is pretty amazing.

Christmas cookies, very delicious.

A picture of people taking pictures.

Our Christmas view.  Squint and you can see Mt. Fuji.

Fried Chicken, a Japanese Christmas tradition.  Mmmmmmm.

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My Heart Belongs to MN (Or, Musings on Lutefisk)

Minneapolis has been on my mind a lot these past few days.  No doubt the recent news of a gigantic snowstorm that dropped 17 inches (a half-ish meter) of powder in my parents’ yard has something to do with it.  (If you haven’t yet seen this video, you should check it out — it’s pretty incredible.)

I love snow.  I sometimes brag that, as a Minnesotan, I can naturally master the cold, but it’s all a lie.  I don’t like the cold (it is currently -2 degree F there now.  That is -19 degrees C.  Ouch.)  But you can’t have snow without it.  And I really miss the snow.

A friend shared a video of himself riding his bicycle to work in Minneapolis the morning after the storm — at 6:00 am the streets were totally quiet, and the crunch of packed snow under his tires and boots went straight to my heart.  The quiet of a post-snow darkened landscape is amazingly serene.  One of my favorite things to do in the snow is to just walk around in it.  Wearing Sorels in slightly plowed streets you can achieve premium crunch — the snow is packed just enough, yet you can keep your ankles dry (because really, once you wet your ankles it’s all downhill from there).

In the wake of my snow fantasy — yes, I know it is a snow-filled dreamland since I don’t have to shovel the driveway, pay gazillions to heat my house, or deal with wet ankles — I came across this MPR video about lutefisk, another ingredient to a true Minnesota winter:

This video put a huge smile on my face.  It is extremely well done and captures a charming sliver of Minnesota pretty accurately, in my opinion.  A few things to note while watching:

1. The explanation of flaky vs. snotty is spot-on.  I love how she assumes everyone knows what good walleye should look like.

2. Everything at the buffet is the same color.

3. The champ’s button — it says “Uff da.”  Exactly.  And his granddaughter is the definition of hard core.

4. I feel like I know every single person in this video — is that so wrong?

A few years ago my family gave up preparing lutefisk for Christmas dinner.  It is surprisingly expensive, perhaps because we opted not to lye-it-up ourselves.  My family finally admitted defeat. It was just too much money and effort to devote to a plate of wiggly stuff that most of the people at the table didn’t really care for anyway.

Though I know it might be dangerous to declare this in front of all my Aunts who I know are reading this (hi, Aunts!), if the tradition ever came back ’round, I wouldn’t be opposed.  My tastes have changed in recent years, and considering I now consume wiggly raw sea creatures almost daily, I might have a new opinion of the stuff.  That bottle of squeeze butter got me a little excited.

Just as long as you can provide a side of snow.

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Design Festa

Asia’s largest biannual art fair, Design Festa, took place in Tokyo this past weekend. Hosting over 8,500 artists from around the globe, Design Festa provides independent artists an opportunity to showcase their work.  Having little idea of what to expect, I set out with camera and pocketbook in hand.

Anyone with original work (and the requisite entry fee) is welcome to participate, and so media on display runs the gamut.  Print illustration, “live painting,” music, handcrafts, and a dramatic interpretation of an anime series were just a few spotted.  The venue lent itself especially well to single artists selling handmade goods, and the range of crafts was unbelievable.  Walking around the convention hall, I couldn’t help but compare the scene to a physical manifestation of Etsy — if Etsy were Asian and wearing animal ears, that is.

Illustration clearly took center stage, and I found myself most interested in the print media and stationary.

Sugar had some great postcards.

okappalover‘s calendars were my favorite of the day.

Here, すっちゃん Succhan’s four seasons – はる is spring, なつ summer, あき autumn, and ふゆ for winter.

I loved the exercising turtles from もりやりょうこ.  And hey panda, what’s got you so relaxed?

The cute-to-creepy spectrum was pretty grand, but a few skirted it gracefully.  More creepy or kawaii?  You tell me.

I was also happy to see a few eco-conscience designs.  My favorite came from designers in Korea, of the GAB : Graphic Design Group.  These picnic bags by Ahn Sung Kyung unzip and fold out to create a dry place for sitting, and are made from leftover rice bags.

The ORIORI_Bag is a convenient way to carry an extra shopping bag with you.  Just unfold and you are ready to go.

And for some good green fun, the green friend.  I was tempted to take one home, but not sure my apartment lends itself well to mud balls.

Of course, an event in Tokyo just wouldn’t be complete without cosplay.  The woman in the box never moved.  I watched her for, like, minutes.

Thanks to the staff at Design Festa for showing me around.  If you are in Tokyo next May and want to check out the next volume of work, visit their site for more info.

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What an adorable little Fox Face!

What is the name of that awesome looking plant, you ask?

But, the Fox Face of course!

Forgive me, but the Photoshop magic just had to happen.  フオックスフエイス in Japanese, Solanum mammosum is also known as the Nipplefruit, Titty Fruit, Cow’s Udder, Apple of Sodom, and the Five Fingered Eggplant.  I just want to call it my friend.

Congrats to Umo and HBomb — they guessed the Japanese name correctly and will soon be proud owners of a 100 yen shop surprise… nice work smartypantses.

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Name That Plant

Strolling through the neighborhood recently, I came across this beauty:

I was able to ask the store clerk for the plant’s name, and let me tell you, it’s awesome.   Anyone else know it?

Let’s make it interesting — if you think you know the name of this plant, leave your guess in the comments.  If anyone comes up with the right answer, I’ll send you a little something crazy from Tokyo.  Sorry, it won’t be this plant, because it was expensive.  Consider that your first hint.

If a whole few of you get it right, I’ll come up with some sort of random drawing to select a winner.  Let’s say you have until Thursday morning-ish, USA time (that’s Thursday evening-ish Japan time).  Good luck!

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Samurai And Dolls

Dolls are creepy. That is fact. It took the genius of the Pixar crew – and millions of dollars – to create a movie featuring a doll that didn’t leave me with daymares.

It’s because they look real, but not. Like Joan Rivers. It’s a phenomenon known as 不気味の谷現象 (bukimi no tani gensho), or uncanny valley (Wikipedia is a much bigger time-suck than Facebook ever can be).

So this weekend, we did the only sensible thing and visited a temple for Doll Thanksgiving Day, an event billed as “Saying Farewell to Dolls with Gratitude.” Yep.

Parents bring their unwanted dolls to Meiji Shrine once a year, where Shinto priests will give them a proper farewell, and then incinerate them.

Here’s the general idea. The doll you own, through the years, is infused with a soul. You can’t just throw it away. You need to treat it with respect because, you know, it’s possessed.

Parents – emptying out their closets – gingerly handed over the dolls of their grown children. The priests were somber and respectful, cradling the dolls until they placed them along with the others, piled high at the foot of shrine, waiting to “return to the state of mere physical entities.” There was a haunting beauty to the whole thing.

Intense, right?

Except then you see something like this.

Gah! It’s clear now why they are incinerating these things. It’s not to give them a proper farewell. It’s so you can be assured that porcelain baby Satan won’t be clawing at your window on a howling windy night. Burn in hell, Raggedy Ann!

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Sometimes Rainy Days are the Best

It’s raining in Tokyo today, and I couldn’t help but get a little reminiscey about the rainy day we had just about a year ago…

The Farm almost looked more amazing in the rain.  The dahlias were like little color bombs.

Look at my wonderful family sitting there in the rain — now that is true love.  They were determined to give me my outdoor wedding.

Thanks again to all my family and friends who made the trek to Hershey last Fall!  I’m thinking of you on this cold, rainy afternoon (remember that mud pit that was the bar?! And the water slick of a dance floor?!  And the Starlingtons!!).  Love to you all.