Robert Haddan - Cascadian Abroad

Wakarimasen: The Challenges of Learning a New Language

April 17, 2014 by Robert Haddan

When we first visited Mexico, I figured out how to say “I’m lost and I have lots of money” in Spanish. I joke that any time we go to a place with a different language, that’ll be the first phrase I learn. I’ll either get home or get mugged.

In reality, a more useful phrase is “I don’t understand.” The Japanese version of that is wakarimasen. However, that’s a hard thing for me to admit. I’ll nod my head and overpay for something I don’t want before I confess that I don’t have a clue what’s being said.

For the first couple weeks in Japan, I’ve been frustrated with my lack of ability to communicate. Speaking, understanding, reading… it’s all Japanese to me. I realized I needed to cut myself some slack. I hate being bad at something and I’m bad at Japanese, but we’ve only been here for three weeks. Heck, it took us all a couple years to learn our native tongues, right?

Still, most “conversations” involve piecing together a script from the phrase book, memorizing it and then reciting it. If the reply is anything more than hai or iie (yes or no), I’m screwed.

Last week, I accomplished something pretty big… I exchanged something! I purchased a few baskets at the 100 yen store to help organize our food cupboard. When I got them home, I unpacked the food shelf and organized the items nicely in the baskets. I put the baskets on the shelf and the cupboard doors wouldn’t close! The baskets were too big. I tried to figure out what else I could use them for and couldn’t come up with anything.

I needed to return them.

I pulled out the handy phrase book and got to work. I walked back to the store and recited my script along the way… Sumimasen. Kookan shitain desu ga. Ooki sugimasu. Excuse me. I need to exchange these. They’re too big.

I walked in the front door with an unexpected amount of anxiety. I delivered my lines like I was George Clooney. The clerk replied with more than hai and I got a little more nervous. So I repeated… ooki sugimasu.

She called to someone on the intercom. Her co-worker came to the register with a barcode, the clerk scanned it and the register opened! She counted out my refund and her co-worker took my faulty purchase back to restock. I did it!

It’s a good reminder to celebrate small victories. Even those as small as successfully returning 328 yen worth of plastic baskets.

Baseball: Hawks 4, Lions 3

April 10, 2014 by Robert Haddan

On Tuesday night, we made our first trip to the Seibu Dome, home of the Nippon Professional Baseball League’s Saitama Seibu Lions. The excitement of the experience was only slightly tempered by a two-out, two-run home run in the top of the 9^th inning by Nobuhiro Matsuda of the Fukuoka SoftBank Hawks, turning a 3-2 Lions victory into a heartbreaking 4-3 loss.

With all due respect to American baseball, this was easily the most enjoyable ballpark experience I can remember. We sat in the home team’s general admission section, stretching from dead center field to the left field foul pole. The Hawks fans had their own section in right field. Separate, as it should be…

Hawks fans — Stay on your own side, Hawks!

General admission doesn’t have seats or bleachers. It’s a wide-open area, covered in old Astroturf sloping from the concourse down to the outfield fence. Most people brought tarps or blankets to make the hard turf a little more comfortable.

But you only need to worry about sitting during the Hawks’ at-bats. While the home team is batting, we’re standing. And singing, chanting, jumping, waving and pumping our fists as commanded by the rally leader. We are the ōendan!

Kattobase Ginjiro we chant as Lions’ catcher Ginjiro Sumitani steps to the plate. Ku-ri-ya-ma, Ku-ri-ya-ma we sing, encouraged by our neighbor in the Lions Den who waves her towel and shouts encouragement at her favorite player.

Perhaps the biggest fan of Lions' captain Takumi Kuriyama in all of Saitama — Perhaps the biggest fan of Lions’ captain Takumi Kuriyama in all of Saitama

The chant of moeru, moeru involves clapping and jumping up and down, proclaiming that the current batter is on-fire (“burning”). Our new friends teach us the chants as we go and forgive our mispronunciations of the ones we try to pick up along the way.

The spirit of, and respect for, competition is alive and well in Japanese baseball. In the top of the 7^th inning, the Hawks fans are given their chance to celebrate their team.

In the middle of the 7^th, the Lions fans get our turn. Our new friends hand us two packages of “Victory Balloons,” long, blue balloons of a—ahem—questionable shape. As the Hawks make the last out in the top half of the inning, we blow up our balloons, sing the team victory song, and let them fly!

As our Victory Balloons take flight, the Lions do as well, scoring the go-ahead run in the bottom of the frame. The RBI triple is met with a new celebratory chant… ichi, ni, san… banzai, banzai, BANZAI!!!

Standing and cheering while the other team is at the plate is a no-no. This goes for the 9^th inning with the home team on the verge of victory as well. In America, the home crowd would be on its feet, cheering the team over the top. In Seibu, we are seated and silent.

Maybe a little cheering would have helped as the aforementioned two-out HR sinks the Lions hopes. Former Major League pitcher Dennis Sarfate comes on in the bottom of the 9^th for the Hawks and strikes out the side, along with our hopes for a Lions victory.

But it’s still early in the season and this is just one stumble at the beginning of a long race. As with most of our experiences, we were embraced (literally in one case after that RBI triple) by the locals. In the Seibu Dome, we’re not Japanese or American… We Are Lions!

The Things We Eat

April 10, 2014 by Robert Haddan

I’d make a terrible food blogger. Last week, we made a miso hummus with naan in a lovely presentation. Today I made sweet potato ravioli for lunch using gyoza wrappers. A splash of shooyu and a drizzle of sriaicha made it look fit for a menu photo.

However, by the time I think about photographing these gorgeous dishes, they look like this:

You’ll have to trust that there was hummus in that bowl at one point and it was SO delicious that it was finger-cleaned once the naan was eaten.

One of the most common questions we received before leaving was “what will you eat?” We both follow an ovo-lacto vegetarian diet, meaning we eat eggs and dairy, but fish, chicken, etc. are out. The Japanese have a seafood-heavy diet. Sakana (fish) sneaks its way into places you’d never expect to find it. Unagi (eel) and ebi (shrimp) are also common.

My somewhat flippant answer was some variation of “probably the same things we eat in the US?” Eating out is definitely more of a challenge, but we’re not tourists. We live here and cook at home the majority of the time. The produce is excellent and tofu was already a regular part of our diet at home.

It’s not without its challenges, but a little creativity goes a long way. For example, hummus usually has tahini in it, adding to the creamy texture. We swapped in miso paste instead. It gave a unique-in-a-good-way flavor to the dip.

We did capture some amazing meals:

Miso Soup — First homemade-from-scratch miso soup

We’ve also made:

Black bean sliders
Soba noodle stir-fry
Soba noodle spaghetti with walnut meatballs

The cooking process itself has some challenges as well. We procured a gas stovetop, the common cooking tool in Japan, which has two burners and a toaster drawer, but no oven. This makes baking impossible, but presents another opportunity for originality. We’ve seen some pre-baked pizza crust and might try to make frying pan pizza in the near future.

The most frustrating one has been the lack of cooking spray. The aerosol cans can’t be brought on the airplane, but we didn’t expect that we wouldn’t be able to buy it here. It’s just not used.

“Non-stick pan” is now a dirty word in this household as we’re scraping eggs off of our frying pans most mornings regardless of the amount of oil used. Every opportunity for internet includes some variation on a search for “how the heck do I get my eggs to not stick without cooking spray!?!?”

We are definitely those weird people at the restaurant who take pictures of their food, so hopefully there will be more yummy things to share along the way!

Tokyo – Ikebukuro and Ueno

April 8, 2014 by Robert Haddan

No matter where you are in the world, unexpected adventures are always a good thing. Such was the case with last weekend’s day trip, our first into Tokyo.

We planned to stop first in Ikebukero, a district in west Tokyo, to find a Taiwanese restaurant that specialized in vegetarian dishes. We’re still traveling without smartphones, so all we had to go off was some loose directions from a website and the city maps at the Ikebukuro train station.

We started walking and, within a couple blocks, stumbled upon a festival celebrating Taiwan and its heritage. There were even inflatable replicas of yours truly!

Ikebukuro — Which one is real and which one is inflatable?

We looked at a couple vendor stands, listened briefly to what must have been the opening address and then headed out in search of our restaurant.

As with many of these uncharted trips, we didn’t reach our destination. We’ve yet to figure out the street numbering convention. At present, I’m convinced it’s the worst way to identify addresses in the known universe. Check back in a couple months and maybe I’ll have a better attitude.

Fortunately, the festival had two booths serving exactly what we were in search of: Taiwanese vegetarian food! And even better, we finally found vegetarian gyoza! Those little pan fried, stuffed dumplings are so good, but usually so filled with pork. It was easily the best purchased meal I’ve had since we’ve arrived in Japan.

The festival also featured some amazing entertainment. All performed by young people, it was impossible to take your eyes off the stage.

A group of pre-teens pounded out the beautiful rhythm of taiko drums.

These young men and women put on an exciting display of dragon wizardry.

These beautiful young ladies entranced the crowd with their choreographed dance.

At the end of the show, we headed back to the station and caught the next train to Ueno Park to see the cherry blossoms in full bloom. You can read Viktoria’s post on the magic of sakura and the geisha picnic.

We took a lap around Shinobazu Pond, where children of all ages peddled and rowed their way in rowboats, paddleboats, and swan boats.

We’ll definitely be back to Ueno Park to visit the National Museum and some of the other sights in the area.

Tsunami on Japan’s East Coast

April 4, 2014 by Robert Haddan

Japan was uneasy on Thursday morning as the tsunami created by the Chilean earthquake caused ocean tide levels to surge as much as a foot along the eastern coast.

The news coverage isn’t propelled by the need to fill 24 hours of “news” as it is in the US. NHK’s dedicated news channel updated the tide tables every 10 minutes or so, but the other channels continued with regular programming.

NHK's coverage of the Chile tsunami — NHK’s coverage of the Chile tsunami

A map of the areas affected by the alert overlaid the screen on every channel. Since we’re located inland, there’s not a palpable sense of panic or concern in Kawagoe.

Wakaba

April 4, 2014 by Robert Haddan

On a rainy Kawagoe day, we ventured west to Wakaba in search of Nitori, best described as the Japanese Ikea (although there actually is an Ikea in Saitama).

Not unlike its Swedish sister, Nitori is chalk full of useful household items as well as items you never knew you needed until you saw them in their full big box store display glory.

Take this item, for example. For just 761 yen (around $7.60), you get not one, not two, but THREE items in one! This miracle product goes from blanket to shawl to skirt in seconds. Amazing!

A multipurpose item at Nitoria in Wakaba

Best of all, Nitori has also copied Ikea’s best feature (well, maybe second best feature after the snack bar), the demo room.

This Japanese couple appeared to be imagining themselves sitting down to a nice dinner. Perhaps those glasses are filled with red wine or sake, easing away the stress of a long day at the office.

After dinner, they’ve retired to the living room. Nuzzled closely on the couch, they’ve tuned into their favorite NHK television show and settle in for a lazy night with their new furniture set from Nitori.

Across the street from Nitori is Hard-Off and Hobby-Off, a chain of second-hand electronics as well as new toys and collectibles.

Among the many gems found inside, a classic rock album wall featuring the likes of KISS, Aerosmith and the Beatles; a teenage dream of video game consoles, including the Japanese version of the Super Nintendo, Super Famicon; and a crib full of grumpy teddy bears.

Awesome finds at the Hard-Off and Hobby-Off

Our rain-soaked journey through Wakaba wrapped up at Ringer Hut. From the outside, it looked sorta like an Alpine villa. The line out the door has been a good indicator that something delicious is waiting inside, so we ventured in.

The food was the usual fair of noodles and soup, but served with what seemed to be their famous sauces. A ginger sauce and a lime sauce added a zing to the dishes. It was also my first chance to practice modifying our order to take out the meat and fish. Our vegetarian versions of the lunch special were quite good, especially with the addition of Ringer Hut’s Signature Secret Sauce.

Sardine Cans

April 4, 2014 by Robert Haddan

We have two stations within walking distance of our apartment. Kasumigaseki Station is about 5 minutes from the university so about 20-25 minutes from our apartment. Matoba Station is about 10 minutes from our apartment Both lines meet at Kawagoe Station which is the hub for Kawagoe. It’s less than 10 minutes from either station to Kawagoe Station.

Some trains are express, some are rapid… you have to look at the schedule to figure out that an express train skips some smaller stations and a rapid train skips some of the bigger stops. I got on one the other day that skipped my stop, but fortunately it stopped just before it, so I was able to get off and wait for the next train.

Usually there’s a place to sit, but sometimes it’s just standing room only. Today was a different story all together. I caught the 8:32 a.m. train to Kawagoe. It was the commuter train. Basically everyone shoves their way in. It was humid and steamy… couldn’t reach any of the bars, so you just plant your feet and lock your core! Fortunately (?) I was by the door, so I was only surrounded by people on three sides.

There’s one stop between Kasumigaseki and Kawagoe. Being by the door was a good lesson… instead of going around you, the mass of people push through you. I ended up out on the platform, stumbling for balance. I’m a pretty sturdy guy, but the mass of humanity moved me like I was on roller skates. You just get back in line with everyone else at the station and get back on the train. It was a good lesson for getting off at Kawagoe Station, where the doors open on the opposite side of the train. I just plowed my way out the door. Paybacks!

Springtime in Kawagoe – Photos

April 2, 2014 by Robert Haddan

Tree blossoms over bike parking at Tokyo International University

Fujiyama from the car — Mt. Fuji from the car

Japanese High School Baseball Championship

April 2, 2014 by Robert Haddan

I’ve been watching Japan’s high school baseball championship tournament on NHK this past week. NPR just did a story on the American who initially brought baseball to Japan and mentions the championships in the article. Worth a read.

I love baseball. As a kid, I loved playing it, whether organized as part of Little League or with a tennis ball in the street in front of our house. In the US, baseball takes a back seat to football and basketball at the high school and college level. Even Major League Baseball is less popular than the NFL and NBA in many parts of the country.

In Japan, baseball is revered as the king it is. The Japanese professional league captures the heart of the country during baseball season. The country celebrates its stars who have made the jump to MLB. NHK is broadcasting Masahiro Tanaka’s debut with the New York Yankees live at 7:45 a.m. local time on April 5, 2014. I’m sure many around Japan will be watching.

I’d watched a couple games of the high school tournament before I realized what I was watching. The atmosphere is electric, more reminiscent of a soccer match. I’d guess attendance at 15,000-20,000 people. Rhythmic music pumps from the stands, inciting the crowd… as if they need it. The spectators are a nonstop discharge of energy, chanting along to the music, banging together thundersticks and shaking pompoms. Speaking of pompoms, there are honest-to-goodness cheerleaders for each team.

Post-game press conferences rival those of a World Series game. 16-year-old Japanese boys paraded in front of a room of waiting journalists, peppered with questions about their performance. Coaches look less like math teachers doubling as the baseball coach and more like grizzled veterans of the dugout.

On this particular day, the team from Risei is battling the team from Toyokawa. In the bottom of the 8^th, Toyokawa explodes for five runs, coming back from a 6-2 deficit to take the lead. In the top of the 9^th inning, a Risei batter slugs a solo home run to tie the game at 7-7. The crowd erupts! We’re momentarily reminded that these are kids as they laugh, cheer and slap the back of the hero of the day.

Toyokawa melts down in the top of the 10^th as walks and errors allow Risei to plate five runs of their own. Risei wins the game 12-7 in 10 innings.

At the end of each game, the players line up across from each other, bow and shake hands. A sign of respect for themselves, their opponent on the day and to the game they love.

The television cameras capture the players from god-like angles, playing up the drama of the game. On this day, they are bigger than life. They are baseball players.

Trust: Letting Go in a New Country

April 2, 2014 by Robert Haddan

Trust is a tricky thing. It can be earned, lost, regained. But most importantly, it can be given.

In an environment where you can’t read, speak, or understand the language, you find yourself putting a LOT of trust in strangers to guide you in the right direction.

For example, we just purchased a couple pieces of furniture from a great second-hand/factory store called Treasure Factory. Since they were larger pieces, we needed to schedule delivery. We’ve got the purchase thing down pretty well, but delivery was new.

Most conversations go something like this: We say something in partial Japanese, but mostly English. The clerk replies in mostly Japanese with a couple English words. We all laugh nervously with puzzled looks on our face, but eventually work our way through with a series of wild hand gestures, pointing, and more broken non-native language.

The fine folks at Treasure Factory had the added challenge of explaining a form required for delivery. The clerk had just enough English to explain that there were no returns and that we accepted the items as-is. There was also a mystery box that, after a few minutes of trying to describe its meaning, the clerk suggested “just check.” We agreed that would be the best course of action.

This transaction included a wonderful round of Pictionary as the clerk expertly drew, and we successfully guessed, “we agree the delivery person will be able to actually get this massive piece of furniture into your little home.”

We checked that box, not knowing whether or not they’d actually be able to maneuver the furniture up our narrow staircase and right-angled doorway. Watching the delivery guys work was like a life-sized game of Tetris as they twisted, turned, and flipped the furniture into our apartment.

We’ve also accepted the challenge of directions without a smartphone. This usually requires asking strangers on the street where places are located on a zoomed-out printout of a Google map. “Kore wa doko desu ka,” or “where is this?” has become a useful tool in our language toolbox.

On our search for the Kawagoe International Center, the question was met with a response in English! The wicked native tongue never sounds as sweet as when you’re lost. The man was originally from Egypt and spoke English and Japanese equally well. He took a few minutes to actually walk us to our destination and show us a shortcut out of the bustling Kawagoe Station.

The patient and helpful nature of our new neighbors continues to impress me everyday. Whether it’s someone on the street or a fellow shopper at the grocery store, we’ve yet to be brushed off when asking for help and usually it is offered before we have to ask.