The Yakiniku Ojiisan

The other night, I was wondering the neighborhood in search for ice cream and vegetables, when I stumbled upon the mysterious, late night, yakiniku stand! I've seen this stand before, but I was always headed somewhere else or didn't have money at the time. That night, I decided to make a friend.

Allow me to introduce you to my Nashi Obaasan replacement: Yakiniku Ojiisan (Barbecue-Meat Grandpa)! While I was waiting for the chicken to cook, I spoke to my new Ojiisan and found out his life story. He is now retired, but in his younger years he was a chef at various international resorts and hotels. He lived in a variety of places, but one of them was Shizuoka, one of the locations that Gina and I visited in the winter. We were able to chat about that for a bit (fun fact: Shizuoka is famous for tea and quiet, lovely fields, by the way). While his family has always had this house (seen in the back ground) he would stay in apartments and the hotels when he lived in other cities. Even now that he's retired, he loves cooking for other people and he sets up this stand outside his house every night to serve the after work crowds. The menu is pretty cheap for chicken, beef, or vegetables with salt or special sauce.

He was very nice and even posed so I could take this picture. The food was great, and I'll probably go back for another late night snack. No more pears, but I at least can get tasty chicken. :)

Kaitenzushi, the Basics

(Yet another food blog)

Up until now, I’ve only been to the kaitezushi (revolving sushi) bar behind Musashi-Sakai station and one in the basement of a Kobe department store complex. Going to the one in Kobe won’t happen for me until I go all the way back to Kobe, so I was prepared to settle for the one near the station. But while it was cheap, it was so small and so crowded, and I’d have to bike all the way there. Not such a good set up. That was until my friends let me in on a great ICU secret: there is a bigger, closer, cheaper sushi bar right down the street!

They had all been craving sushi (and, really, who doesn’t?) and we had Friday afternoon classes canceled for a government issued test that weekend, so we decided to head off for our fill of sushi right after Japanese class. So, after class, off we went; past the gate watchman, past the rival ramen stores, the small shrine, J-Mart, Don Quixote, the large shrine, and under a bridge or two. We can in mass, which might have intimidated lesser store owners, but this particular kaiten was used to having swarms of ICU foreigners, so they weren’t shocked to see us at all. We did, though have to split up because SOME OF US couldn’t wait and decided it would be a good idea to skip the second half of Japanese class and go to the restaurant early, so they were already done by the time we arrived. All’s well that ends well, though, as our second wave would have had to sit at a second booth anyway.

For those of you who are new to all this (and in case I haven’t written it already), kaitenzushi bars are known for minimal customer-chef interaction and for serving most of the food on a revolving belt. The sushi chef cooks (rather, matches or wraps) everything in a little area and sets his finished pieces on the belt. As the little fish travels around the counter, it is up for grabs for anyone sitting at the bar. If you want one, just take it. After you eat the sushi, keep your plate until the end the servers will tally up how much you ate and bill you off that. Different types of plates have different colors or styles to help calculate price. For example, a yellow plate might be 105 yen, but one with blue flowers will be 225 yen. Color also lets the customer know if the sushi comes with wasabi already included or not. Each shop has a different plate system, so it is good to check before you grab a 500 yen plate. Ordering off the menu is also allowed.

If the store is small enough, you can just tell the chef what you want. But at the place we went, there cooks were all in the kitchen and two belts of food were coming out on the floor. In order to order, you had to type what you’d like electronically and when your order was ready, it would be sent around in a special bowl and music would announce that it was coming near your booth.

Most people like tuna and other types of fish, but the chewier stuff is my favorite! Clams, oysters, squid, and octopus are all good choices, but if you want something else, just pick it up. The restaurant that we went to had French fries, soups, desserts, and lots of “unique” sushi rolls, too. The food was so good, filling, and cheap, we all went back two days later! But having it twice in a three day period is enough for me. I’ll be set for sushi for a while, I think.

Going to the Park

Woah, this is actually reaching back into my memory bank about two weeks. Bear with me folks, I’ll probably be a little hazy on the details. Here we go:

The OYRangers wanted to spend some time together, but Tokyo doesn’t have many places where people can just “hangout”. No, there seriously isn’t. You have restaurants, houses, businesses, temples, and ramenyas, but no one spends extended periods of time there. There is Starbucks, but they are so small, you can’t fit many people at the same table or be there for the whole night. In order to have some open space to ourselves, we decided to do some exploring and go to a park instead. Someone had heard that there was a lovely park in a nearby city, but once we actually got to the city and looked at the local maps, we noticed that the park was only as big as someone’s front yard. We were hoping for something a tad more spacious or at least big enough for a picnic. So we walked ALL THE WAY to Shinjuku (see photo album) where we heard that there was a national park. We spent more time on trains and on foot than actually at the park. Not “national park” like Yosemite, but more like "national garden" I guess. It had lots of organized garden areas, chrysanthemum beds, a tea house, lots of lakes and fish. Now, in theory, we went to the park to study together, but although we did open up our textbooks, not much studying got done. Instead we ate a lot of junk food, talked, and had a great time. CJ even had some fun.

The good times came afterwards, though. Typical Japan, the park closed at around 5, so we were left with nowhere to go. So we decided to head back to Kichijoji to one of the boy’s houses for dinner. After stoping at Tokyo Hands® in Shinjuku (see another post) we all hoped the train to Derek’s. On the train, we were debating the fastest way to get to Kichi, when a Japanese salaryman jumped into our conversations with some helpful advice. He spoke surprisingly good English, actually. He asked where we were from, if we liked Japan, and what we thought of the people. After, he told us what planes to use and what types of bus tickets to buy if we wanted to go up to Hokaido. Our group had a great time talking to him, and Jorren (our Dutch Ranger) was shocked that a Tokyo man would be so friendly to foreigners he just met on a train. The reason that guy was so nice? Maybe it is because he’s not from Tokyo at all, but from Hiroshima, just like Yuki-chan/sensei. People from the western part of Japan are supposed to be louder, funnier, and friendlier than people from the eastern shore.

That was a little off topic. Anyway, we bought a bunch of food from the local grocery store, went to Derek’s house and cooked up a storm! The only problem was that he lives in one of the Sakura Houses. Sakura House is a company that rents rooms to foreigners who are planning on staying in Japan short term and don’t want to invest in a long-term lease. There was a Korean girl who had moved in the week before and, even though she was in her pajamas and in the middle of making her own dinner, was kind enough to let us use both the stove burners, so we gave her a heaping plate of food and talked with her for the rest of the night. We had to communicate in Japanese (which went….well, I guess) since no one knew Korean and she didn’t know English. Well, that’s a lie. Jorren actually did know how to count to 10 in Korean from his years in Tae Kwon Do and Sarah could go as far as 20 because…she just…knows…that’s not the point! We ended up becoming her best friends and even gave us all adjectives: Derek and Jorren were “interesting/funny”, Sarah was “cute”, and I was “pretty”. She was such a sweetheart and asked us to come back to talk with her sometime. Which we never did. Um, maybe we can still make it back before Derek moves out? Ugh! Now I feel like I’ve wasted time here.

I'll just have to fb everybody to get over to the Sakura House soon for a final cooking party with Derek's housemate.

By the way, the food was great. Cheap and quickly made, but great. In the end, I had to get back on the 11 pm train so that I could get back to my place in time for good-‘old curfew. Great story, right? Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something better.

Exploring Noodles

My favorite Ramen shop (not the one that makes me sick, but the one right next to that one) is kind of expensive, and I was thinking that I should go out to different places every now and again. Not that I don’t love my Ramen shop (they give people free curry and rice, and girls get free dessert, yum!) but other places have different items on the menu. Gutara Ramenya, it isn't you, it's me. No, on second thought, it is you. Sorry.

So coming back from church, Saturday night, I stopped off in a side street, and squeezed myself into one of the many tiny, tiny ramen shops. There was only one old man working, but you could tell that he had everything down pat. I got some soba noodles, concentrated miso soup and a few gyoza to top things off. Just to make sure I knew how to eat it, the man was nice enough to explain the noodle/soup combo to me. I still don’t think I was doing it right, but I tried my best. It was surprisingly spicy, but that was fine by me. I used the gyoza to absorb the last of the sauce and soup. Very tasty!! I’ll have to try a different store next time. Haha, but probably not the one where the salary men sing traditional Japanese enka.

Sweets Paradise

Are you ready for this?! It is Sweets Paradise!!

Okay, you may remember me talking about All-You-Can-Eat/Drink places here in Japan, right? You know, those restaurants where you pay, like, $10-$35 and get a buffet and a time limit? Bonus info: the longer the time limit, the more you pay. Well, they are really popular for parties and group outings. Well, my friend took some of us out for a newly opened All-You-Can-Eat-Dessert-Buffet! I know, it’s great!!!

The place was called Sweets Paradise and was all done up in a old-fashioned train car feel with an extensive display of cakes, pastries, a chocolate fountain, a fair-ground style popcorn machine, and fruits. For drinks, you could have hot chocolate, soda, teas, coffees, or shaved ice. There was also a pot of curry, rice, a bowl of salad, and several pastas to balance out the meal. It was all so lovely, but not as sweet as you might imagine. Japanese desserts look deceptively sugary. But they mostly taste like fluff or aren’t very sweet. Natural sugars, like those found in fruits and honey, are more appreciated. The Japanese, it seems, have an aversion to anything that’s flavor is too strong, so spicy foods aren’t that spicy and sweet foods aren’t that sweet. Give them a Reese’s for example, and most of them will say, “Too sweet!” or “Too buttery!” Many of the Japanese students at Witt would complain that the cafeteria slacker desserts were amasugiru (too sweet).

Because of this neutral flavor, I didn’t eat more than three platefuls of sweets, but went straight to the curry, which overflowed from my plate and burned my hand! I did what anyone would have done, ate that curry to the last drop and showed it who was boss!!

Would I go back to sweet’s paradise? Definitely, it is surprisingly close (Kichijoji) and I’d be able to get a full meal besides the desserts bar. Maybe sometime in January as a pick-me-up when school starts getting hard, the weather is depressing, and I just feel like eating my weight in strawberry jelly rolls!

Missing: Grandma Nashi

Oh, no! I was walking along one day, when I realized that something was missing. Had I lost my wallet? Did I forget to do my homework? Nope. Someone was missing: Grandma Nashi!!

Next to one of the little farms/gardens near my school, a little, old woman would sit selling Asian pears (nashi, hence her nickname) which I would buy about once a week. But lately, I was so busy with the festival that I hadn’t gone to see her. But on that day, I realized that I haven’t seen her out by the fruit stand in a while. Come to think of it, I haven’t seen the fruit stand, either. So, not only have I not had an Asian pear in weeks, but I haven’t gotten to see my little obaasan. :S

What sad times are these when foreign college students cannot purchase Asian pears from Japanese grandmothers in autumn. Maybe she is not growing pears anymore or has moved her location, but I was hoping that come fall, she would have more fruit. *sigh* I guess not.

Samrat Restaurant

Just a “by the way” sort of thing:

After Wadaiko, but before the Soul Run nomihoudai, Kai, I, and another former OYR went out to eat in Kichijoji. They had both gone to ICU and had spent a lot of time in Kichi, and there was one place in particular that they wanted to go to: Samrat. It was an Indian restaurant tucked in underground with a hard to find entrance that we only caught on the second time. As we started down the stairs I could already smell the kitchen that reminded me so much of Rashmi and Sophie’s houses I got a rush of high school memories! But as soon as we stepped inside I was pulled back to reality as a tall, bearded Indian man greeted us with a loud Japanese “Irasshaimase!” I’m in Japan, not Ohio. I’m in Japan, not Ohio. Got it.

The great thing about this place, I found out, was that there was an unlimited bread rule, which we three probably abused. While my friends got some of the more mild flavors, I asked for some daal terka and spicy veggie curry. It was so good, but the portions were tiny and I was done with mine in almost an instant. I ended up eating the rest of someone else’s, too. But it isn’t my fault!! Japan’s serving sizes (even in Ethnic restaurants, it seems) are super small not super sized. I wanted to stay and talk with everyone a little more, but Soul Run was meeting at the station soon and I didn’t want to be left behind.

I would give this place a 7 out of 10, a good place to stop back again, but just a touch expensive.

ICU Festival: Day 2, Saturday, Oct. 30th

Good morning!! Rise and shine, because it is time for Taiko!

My entire day was spent with the Taiko group, preparing for the concert, setting up the gym, grabbing some lunch, walking around (in the rain) calling out to the festival goers (in Japanese and English) to come and see us perform, and tear down. Luckily, we were over at around 3 pm, so I still had some time to catch another glimpse of the festival that day. It was drizzling the whole time, which had my spirits down at first, but everyone was trying to be as energetic as possible and that really affected my mood too. As you walked down the sidewalks, everyone was yelling out to passers-by, waving signs, dressed up, and fighting for your attention. How can you ignore that kind of life and energy? What’s more, Kai was there!! He came up from Kyoto for the weekend to see his ICU friends and to cheer on Wadaiko! We were able to perform in our usual gym, which made our sound reverb off the walls and give us this awesome presence while keeping the drums dray. There was a modest crowd, but I was kind of nervous anyways. I only did two half songs, but I had to carry and rearrange drums, so I was a part of the concert the whole time. It was really fun, but I messed up in two parts. It didn’t show, but I know that I made those mistakes and that is what matters. Miki’s mom was there, too! She had come all the way from Kamakura just to see Miki perform, but she stayed a little while after the show to talk to me, too. I was so revved up from the show that my Japanese was getting confused, but she said that she was very proud of both of us and was such a mom about it all. Kids from my dorm and classes were also there, too. They were all super surprised that I did Taiko and said that it was a shock to see me so energetic and active in the last song. I know I’m a bit on the quiet side sometimes, but I guess people don’t expect me to do something big or loud. I don’t usually do that sort of thing, but for that song, I just couldn’t help it!

Outside in the rain, you could to see all the different club booths and group that I got a little carried away. I bought a chocolate and sprinkle covered banana, freshly made yakisoba and fried mochi on a stick, a kabob that was pronounces kay-ba-bu, delicious lamb, grilled beef (from the Lacrosse boys, good friends of mine), hot chocolate, and a muffin (from the Yearbook kids). It was all so scrumptious, but I had to pull back before I spent too much on just food.

During the same time as Wadaiko that day, Soul Run’s main group performed on the stage. Since it was raining, they had to go inside the auditorium, but there was a slight problem with this; the indoor stage was too small to fit everyone, so only the freshman and exchange students were able to perform. Anyone older (including the seniors!!) weren’t able to dance. Later, I watch a video that one of the presidents had recorded of the group, and it looked good, but I know that it was slightly disappointed for the upper classman not to dance. To celebrate their hard work, Soul Run organized a nomihoudai (literally, “All You Can Drink Party”) in Kichijoji that night. Myself and another Wadaiko/Soul Run kids, Derek, tagged along too even though we wouldn’t be performing until the next night. Besides a lot of drinks (I had cola, thank you) the food was great and seemed to just keep coming! Some of the members were a little too enthusiastic about the beverages, but no one got too rowdy; unless you count a group-late-night-cream-puff fight rowdy. Haha, I guess that part is just a yearly Soul Run tradition. All of the members gave the upperclassmen and the co-presidents presents, we told stories about practicing together, took a lot of pictures, and had a grand old time. It was good to celebrate with everyone, but I’ll miss our lunchtime dance sessions.

I don’t know how late everyone stayed out, but I went back to my dorm in time for curfew and to try to get some rest. There was still one more day of the festival and I knew it was going to be a long day.

ICU Festival: Day 1, Friday, Oct. 29th

WAH! I’m so behind on my blogs, this is embarrassing. If I can catch up with them this weekend, though, I’ll be solid.

Let’s take a trip back a few weeks to the ICU festival. If you’ve ever read manga or seen anime, you know that most high schools and colleges in Japan have these cultural festivals once a year for clubs to show their stuff, make some money, and for the school to attract attention and prove that their students are well-rounded and do more than just study and go to cram school. Sure, right, whatever you have to tell yourself. But these festivals (try to think more like school fair) are really fun and people pour hours upon hours of effort into them. By the time students reach college they are experts at preparing for festivals, which really helped me because I’ve only had the Wittenberg festivals to pull experience from.

I’m in a few clubs here, which means that I had to be a pro at time management and I also had to make some decisions on priority; who was I going to perform with? Which group was I going to help on the day of the festival? Which group would be more forgiving if I didn’t chose them? That sort of thing. My final decision: dedicate myself mostly to Wadaiko, playing with them on both days and attending all of the preliminary events as a Wadaiko member, helping the Yearbook Club leading up to (but not during) the festival, dancing with Soul Run at the closing ceremony only, and supporting my friends whenever I had some free time. It was surprising to see how much importance all the groups were putting on this. Since the first day I joined, the Wadaiko kids were talking about preparations for the festival (which was two-ish months away at that point), and Soul Run was formed ONLY to perform at the festival. Everyone was throwing a lot of pressure on how well we’d be and exactly how every movement would look. There isn’t enough time in my blog to talk about all the preparations, but just know that we practiced a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. I thought it a bit obsessive, but I can’t argue that the results were fantastic.

On the Friday right before the festival, I had morning class, but all afternoon classes were canceled to let kids do final practices and set up for the next morning. I had already promised my time to Taiko, so I ran home, changed into my purple pacchi (a style of traditional Japanese pants) and dashed to a 4 hour practice session. We had to rehearse, of course, but since we would be playing outside on Sunday, people needed to practice bringing and setting up our equipment and instruments for the day of the show. Every movement and responsibility was charted out and directed. Once again, it all seemed super controlled and over the top, but it left no room for error and responsibility was made obvious, so if you didn’t do your part, everyone would know. The OYRs and the freshman were slightly paranoid at this idea, and that is probably why we did so well.

After Wadaiko, I ran over to the Soul Run practice for the finale, and boy, was I in for a shock. There were a few girls there already when I arrived, but I was waiting for the rest of the crew to show up. Soul Run had 53 members this year, and I knew that at the finale only a few of us would be performing. I thought that a few meant 30. It really meant 12. I was one of the 12. WHEN WAS THIS DECIDED?! I mean, it was such an honor to be chosen out of that many people and perform with the top dancers, but I’m not that good! I was so, so embarrassed when the presidents of the club explained that we were the only ones dancing; it finally hit me why everyone else had made a big deal about me being picked. Besides doing the Souran Bushi dance, we also had to do a Shorinji Kempo kata and a Para Para dance. Shorinji Kempo is an energetic and a very disciplined Japanese martial art, that is much more popular at my school than at others, I think, because the leader of the club is a national champion, or some such thing. By the way, one of the Japanese princesses goes to ICU. I just found that out, but that’s beside the point. Para Para started as a joke of a dance, in a way, but is now no laughing matter (even though I laughed at it at every practice). There is an idea that the Japanese can’t dance, but are really good and hand dancing while swaying. So there is a very easy form of hand dancing that caught on in clubs and is used all the time by Japanese pop artists. Think of the Macarena to Japanese music. That is Para Para. I really liked the dance because no matter how outrageously silly, expressive, or dorky you were, you would only be acting more true to the dance style.

Later that night, I went to check up on the Yearbook Club who had turned one of the classrooms into a café for the next day. It was very cute, decorated with Halloween themed origami, and we all ate cheesecake together! But I had to dash and do one more practice with Soul Run on the stage before the mega-huge pizza party!! May I just say that while tasty, Japanese pizza is disappointingly small and uber expensive? They try, but still. Luckily, though, we all paid for the pizza that night, and when I joined up with the Yearbook guys later and they asked me where I could find a lot of change, I was able to hook them up with Soul Run. Yahoo! Chalk one up for the international student!

With all of this running around, I was really hyped up, but had to go to sleep since I’d be up bright and early the next day. I had such a fun day, but there was only one problem: the weather channel that night was calling for rain on the weekend….

Testing: one, two three?

I am connected once again!!

Hello, everyone, and sorry for the unannounced two-ish week hiatus! We were having technical difficulties on my end of the world. But I've saved up my photos, videos, and stories from all that time and have a stream of blogs that will update you all on what was, possibly, on of my best weekends in college yet! Most of it centers around the ICU Culture Festival which I will explain in just a bit. But first, a moment from our sponsors. It is in Japanese (and a few years old), but hopefully the pictures will be able to help explain what I can't. Please pay special attention to the Taiko and Soul Run groups!

Yasukuni War Shrine

For my 300-level history course, the teacher requires that we all visit Yasukuni War Shrine and write about our experiences. Last night I spent about 5 hours walking around the shrine. Well, not the shrine itself, but the museum attached to it. I was going to skip the museum all together because it seemed like the exhibit was going to be small, but my traveling-buddy wanted to go in and it was only 500 yen, so why not, right? Wrong. Actually, right, but maybe I should have seen the floor map before going in. Then I would have realized what I was getting myself into!

Most of the Shrine was pretty basic (purification center, hondai, and torii gate), but there were other odd things at the shrine; a theater stage, white doves, and flower competitions.

Rather than explain, let's take a look: at BIRDS!

After practicing taiko that morning, walking to and around the shrine, then going through the museum-that-never-ends, I went back to my city and decided to drop by a local shop for some dinner. My sushi place was packed (and, I mean, I say it is "mine" but I've only ever been there once), so I went to another place and was seated pretty much IN the kitchen. There is no such thing as personal space here, but Japan is small, and I'm getting used to it. As I try to sit down, squeezing through an impossibly narrow separation in the chairs, I turn the wrong way and twist my knee!! Oh no! I'm sitting there, get the knee back in place, and am about to start sobbing into my napkin, when I look to my left: there, sitting hunched over what I am sure to be his weekly bowl of soup and gyoza, is a classic, little Japanese grandfather type who has decided to start talking to me. I responded at first, but then I noticed that "we" weren't having a conversation, "he" was having our conversation in his head, but just saying it all out loud. I couldn't smile big enough, he was just sooooo cute! He was just so fun to listen to because not only would he talk about me like I was his niece or something ("Oh good she knows how to use chopsticks, but a bit messy with the soup, huh? Hehe, she'll learn. Ah, got some gyoza too? Good choice, good choice.") but he also read the menu about 5 times and commented one the prices ("500 yen! What a deal! But 450 just for rice? What are they thinking? It isn't even good rice"). And the waitress acted like she saw him come in all the time. I didn't even care that my knee hurt and that I still had to bike home. That little man made my night!

And the soup was good, too.

An Adventure! Well, to me it was, anyway.

Picture it in your mind's eye: feeling crushed and defeated, hungry and economically bound, our young heroine sets her resolve on a last-chance-go-for-broke-over-exaggerated-but-I'm-glad-if-your-still-reading-this-blog dash to the nearest major city for some relief. Even as she prepares for the journey, the world still fights against her; rain, wind, and narrow passages are all that await between our adventurer and her destination. But mounted accompanied by her faithful traveling companion, even these forces of nature seem mere distractions!

Haha, I shouldn't write fan-fiction.

The real story: I was feeling a little blue the other day, so I thought, "Hey, why not go to Kichijoji to get cheered up and do some shopping?" But when I was leaving the dorm, the rain from that morning still hadn't let up, but I still decided to save myself the $4 of bus fair and go to the train station for the first time by myself. In the rain. On my bike. With CJ in the front basket. But still alone. Without a map. In Japan. With no umbrella. "A lone, lonely, loner" (copyright of Ice Age 3). I was soaked by the time I got to the train station, cold by the time I got to Kichijoji, disappointed in the kaitenzushi place there (the best one near me is in Musashi-sakai, I think), and not feeling any less blue when I arrived back at my train station.

But it ALL turned up after I went grocery shopping and then bought a calling card (so I can use my phone officially!). When I got back to the dorm, I cooked myself up a little something, chatted with the girls, chatted more with the kids downstairs, finished my homework, studied for a bit, and was feeling as right as rain (ba-dum-da!).

So our heroine learned an important lesson that day: the greatest joys are not in overcoming grand obstacles (alone, on one's bike, in the rain, in Japan), but in simple pleasures of good food and the company of friends.

The End

Ramen, the Basics

Be. Yond. Words.

But I'll try.

Ramen is not what you think. Ramen is not what I thought. Ramen is, by far, the best things I've had since I came to Japan. Everyone who has been to Japan before me wouldn't stop saying that they all got hooked on Ramen. "What is so special about Japanese-pork-and-noodle-soup?" I would wonder. "Maybe that is the Japanese comfort food or something."

Wrong. So, here's the story:

If you look in my Mitaka photo album, you'll notice that I got caught in a torrential rainstorm on my way home from the store one day. It was a long walk back to school, and I had already made pit-stops everywhere I could trying to stay dry as I lugged (full-out, lugged) a laundry basket filled with groceries and such back to ICU. After making it about 2/3rds of the way home, I thought of just stopping for a while and waiting till the rain calmed down a bit. But by then, I was right outside a ラーメン屋 (Ramen shop). Were they even open? Would they want someone who was all wet? How does one order Ramen? Just then, a young man came outside the shop to fix the "open" sign that had fallen from the winds. He saw me standing there. I saw him see me standing there. He looked at me. I looked at the sign. He looked at the sign. It was priceless.

A couple quick bows later and I was inside the store, my umbrella sopping wet in a rack, and my laundry basket-'o-stuff right next to it so as not to moisten the entire store. I threw my stuff down at the bar (for those who don't know, there is a bar that surrounds the Ramen store's kitchen) and pulled out my wallet. Now, buying food in Japan is a little different than back in the States. In this store, right next to the main doorway, was a vending machine. But not an ordinary vending machine, no Sir, this was a menu machine! You placed any amount of money into the machine, then pushed the button for the items(s) you wanted, and received the change and tickets for your meal once you were done. Then, just had the ticket to the cook and wait at your seat. Sounds easy enough, but the menu was all in Japanese. What was worse, it was mostly in kanji~! So I picked one that I could read, gave the man my ticket, and (after a while) he gave me a hot bowl of Ramen.

It looked soooooo good! Everything was in one bowl, sure, but it was neatly placed and orderly. And everything I needed to enjoy the Ramen fit on the bar top (tissues - for when your nose starts to run from the hot soup, soy sauce, pickled veggies - in the black and red container, and all you can drink water and tea). The taste was unbelievable, too!!! I'm a noodle-lover by nature, but this was more than my palete had ever handled from soup before; there was a buttery feeling, the veggies were still somewhat firm, but the meat was so, so soft, and the entire thing smelled like fall (don't ask me what that means, just have some for yourself). I was so dissapointed that I came there alone! I just wanted to turn to someone, ANYONE, and say, "Isn't this fantastic?! Can you believe this was just $7? They gave me so much, I don't think that I can finish all of this!!" There was a lot, by the way. It took me a good half hour to get it all down. But I loved every drop!

The moral of the story? Eat real Ramen, REAL Ramen, before you say that you don't like Japanese food. Don't like sushi? Fine. Can't find a taste for tempura? I can understand that. Eal just not your thing? I can dig it. But there is no way that in this world, someone exists who does not like Ramen. Get on over to Mitaka, if you can; I know a great little place just up the street.

Kichijoji Festival!!!!

Okay, so I thought that I loved Kichijoji before. But I was wrong. I LOVE KICHIJOJI!! It is so artsy, filled with interesting shops, and has all these little secrets that you have to snoop around to find! It is so a great place to explore, and if you get bored with the main streets, take a back road, or go underground. It's a blast!

I went this Sunday night with a friend named Shin from my dorm. Shin helped me buy a bike in the afternoon, and asked if I had time to kill during the evening. We rode my new bicycle all the way to Kichijoji (taking back roads and hidden paths to avoid the police - two people riding one bike is illegal in Japan), and got there in about 20 minutes. For free!! I didn't have to buy a bus or train ticket! He showed me how to get to the park, zoo, basement shops, washoku (Japanese cuisine) restaurants, and we even caught the tail end of the matsuri! I told you that there is a festival going on everyday in Japan; this past weekend was Kichijoji's matsuri, and I got to be right in the middle of it!

I'm so in love with that city, that I've made a photo album for it.

Anyway, after all of that excitement, I was thuroughly lost and couldn't have gotten back to my bicycle if Shin wasn't there. I guess living in a city is the best way to know how to get around in it, but I'll just have to visit Kichijoji in order to do more exploring. On the way back to the parking lot, we bought steamed buns (soooooo delicious~~~) and Taiyaki, which was warm, adorable, and tasty.

I really need to get back to Kichijoji soon, but maybe I should practice riding my bike first. I know that people never forget how to ride, but I don't completely remember. Who knows? Maybe I'll be back by this weekend to get more steamed buns!

Taiyaki

Taiyaki (literally “baked sea bream”) is a Japanese fish-shaped cake. The most common filling is red bean paste that is made from sweetened azuki beans. Other common fillings may be custard, chocolate, or cheese. Some shops even sell taiyaki with okonomiyaki, gyoza filling, or a sausage inside.Taiyaki is made using regular pancake or waffle batter. The batter is poured into a fish-shaped mold for each side. The filling is then put on one side and the mold is closed. It is then cooked on both sides until golden brown. Taiyaki was first baked by a sweet shop Naniwaya in Azabu, Tokyo in 1909, and now can be found all over Japan, especially at food courts of supermarkets and Japanese festivals. They are similar to imagawayaki (今川焼き?), which are thick round cakes also filled with sweet azuki bean paste or custard.

Camera Video Test 1 - "Apples?"

Kichijoji with Mr. Spengler

It's a small world - no joke!

I go to a pretty small university in southern Ohio, but for some reason, there were enough alumni from my university in Japan to create the Wittenberg Alumni Tokyo Group. Isn't that cool!? Oh, come on, it is a little cool. No? Fine, whatever.

Lucky for me, the group is based in and around Tokyo (with ICU very close by), so the president of the Group has been able to help me get my footing here in Japan. He met me in Shibuya, gave me a ride to my dorm, and has even been able to give me advice about ICU since he went there in the 80s!

The other day, he was generous enough to take me out to diner in Kichijoji to make sure that I was adjusting well and getting enough to eat. We went to a lovely restaurant that focused mainly on one thing: chicken. Except for the last two pages of the menu (desserts and tofu) everything was made out of or included chicken, and tasted amazing! Let me explain: The shop door was supper small and we had to open the sliding door, then go under the hanging red flap in order to get in (Mr. Spengler is quite tall, so this was the awkward part for him). When we entered the narrow restaurant, there was a bar on the right and small tables on the left. The shop owners/workers greeted us and led us to another space upstairs. Can I just say that I love stairs by the way? They are great! And these stairs were small with dark brown boarders. At the top of the stairway we had tables with large, hanging, blank scrolls that helped divide the areas. *Interesting fact* Japan doesn't have a strict "no smoking in restaurants" rule yet. They have it in classrooms, covinience stores, government buildings, and trains, but not restaurants. However, shop keepers use those little "air-purifier fans" to eliminate all the smell. Good show.

Anyway, we ate a bunch of chicken themed dishes, but halfway through the meal I realize that I could have been taking pictures of these beautiful and tasty foods. I quoted my friend Gina Gray and said, "Can I have a gaijin moment?" He completely understood and even helped me move the food into the light for the best picture. These two pictures are of chicken croquet with various grilled veggies, chicken haru maki (spring rolls), and a great dish called Oyakodon (親子丼) or "parent and child bowl". There is a bowl of rice and on top is chicken and eggs (the parent and the child). It is a great dish with a weird name, but very popular. I used this as an example in Japanese class today and my teacher was shocked that I and the other students knew what it was. Apparently it is one of her favorite dishes (bonus points?).

And have I said how much I love, love, love Kichijoji yet? Because I do. You'll definitely see more stories about this town, and its food, coming later!