Oh, The Suite-ness Of It

Let's say you have some good friends named Lark and Melly. They live in the far-off land of Bapan, and you just don't get to talk to them as much as you used to. Well, do I have the answer to your predicament: www.onesuite.com This online calling card has great international rates; Melly's family (especially her father) is pretty excited about the savings that onesuite offers. But if you call, just don't forget to check the time difference between your home and Japan...er, Bapan:)

Shake It Like Japan, Mommy (Mark)

I don’t know if you all have heard or not, but it seems like Japan has a higher amount of earthquakes than average. If you’ve tuned into the news lately, you might have noticed that things got a big shaky on Tuesday when a 7.2 tremor hit around lunch time. I’ve come to realize that, although Japanese people are mostly polar opposites than the good folks back home in Oklahoma, there are still come striking similarities when it comes to enduring Mother Nature’s wrath.
Oklahomans in general suffer from a chronic disease known as T.A.S. or Tornado Apathy Syndrome. For recent immigrants to tornado alley, just the possibility of a tornado sends waves of panic-stricken folks with their weather radios and tornado kits to community shelters and underground bunkers crying, praying, and wetting themselves until the storm passes over. After the storm passes over, tornado rookies will emerge from the bunker like nuclear holocaust survivors, kiss their loved ones and begin to emotionally prepare for next week, when this event will undoubtedly repeat itself again.
For native Oklahomans, a tornado warning means go outside and try to make visual contact with the alleged storm. A true Oklahoman will then determine wind speed and direction outside, then with the aid of his or her favorite weatherman, will declare, “It’s going to go ________ (name a cardinal direction) of us.” Only if the tornado is said to be in your neighborhood will an Oklahoma family take cover and only if the tornado begins to rip away at the exterior of the home will the man of the house finally, reluctantly, run for cover.
Japanese suffer a similar E.A.S. or, earthquake apathy syndrome. The main problem for both Oklahomans and Japanese is that their respective battles with Mother Nature come so frequently that rarely does anyone take the situation seriously. So when the earth started moving on Tuesday I, as cool as a cucumber, thought nothing of the minor tremor. Yet, when the building started swaying and objects fell from the walls….I began to think that maybe the 3rd floor of a elementary school wasn’t the best place to be. After the tremors stopped one of my teachers picked herself up off the floor (where she had fallen), nervously laughed and said “Sugoi! Sore wa ookii jishin desu!” which, loosely translated means, “that was pretty awesome, I’m glad we aren’t all dead right now!” As I sat at my desk and participated in the aftershocks of discussion that followed, I wondered to myself…would all the safety protocols (like standing in a doorway, under a desk etc. etc.) have begun before or after we were all buried under 30 tons of rubble? Yet, like the tornados back home, we all laughed this one off…sipped some tea…and wondered when the “big” one is going to hit. Of course, never believing that it actually will.

Around the World in 80...Pages

If you listen to NPR like Mark and I do, you'll know that they have a summer series featuring different peoples' reading lists. Usually these lists have a theme, and there's usually a correlation between the theme and the list-maker's area of interest or expertise. Well, I don't exactly have an area of expertise, but one area of interest is...reading. But who wants to read a book about reading? So I'm making a list "themed" on something else I love...travel. These aren't necessarily travel books, but they are unforgetable books set in places all over the world. If you're looking for a summer read and want an international experience, check them out.

Love In the Time of Cholera--Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Set in an unidentified Caribbean port town--a tale of passion and unrequited love. Garcia Marquez is one of my favorite authors, and Oprah likes him too (literary snobs, don't let that count against him. He won a Nobel Prize, too).

Memoirs of A Geisha--Arthur Golden. Read it before the movie comes out in December. The title sums it up. You'll be hooked. (Set in Japan, obviously).

Silence--Shusako Endo. About Portuguese missionaries who come to Japan in the 16th century, just as the government is beginning its campaign of persecution.

The Kite Runner--Khaled Hosseini. Boyhood friendships. Racial tension. Afghanistan. Taliban. One of the best books I've read in a long time...lots of other people think so too, apparently. It's on the best-seller list, and a movie is in the works.

The Poisonwood Bible--Barbara Kingsolver. A missionary family moves to the Belgian Congo in the 1960s. A compelling tale about how NOT to be a missionary.

Sophie's World--Jostein Gaarder. This is really an crash-course in philosophy disguised as a novel. But it's set in Norway. One of the best set-in-Scandanavia books that I've read.

The Middle of Everywhere--Mary Pipher. A book set in the heartland of America--Lincoln, Nebraska. The cast of characters, however, isn't what you would expect. In this non-fiction work, Pipher tells about her experiences in working with Sudanese, Iraqi, and Vietnamese (among others) refugees. I have read this book countless times--her stories are maddening and inspirational and convicting.

Well, there you have it. If you're looking for a world-tour experience on a low budget, head to your nearest library. But you don't have to take my word for it...

The Rice Price

Before we moved to Japan, we were fully aware of the high cost of living here. Although our home isn't in Tokyo or Osaka, the two most expensive cities in the world, we've still had to adjust our expectations when we go shopping for clothing, cleaning supplies, and food. The one item that we didn't expect to have to pay a lot for, however, was rice. Rice. It's probably one of the first things that comes to mind when most non-Japanese people think about Japan, and rightly so. It's ubiquitous.
So my rudimentary understanding of economics led me to believe that a commodity so common would not cost too much. After all, a small bag of rice in America is less than a dollar, and I'm pretty sure it's just as cheap in Brazil (rice and beans are the meal of choice for most economically disadvantaged Brazilians). And yet a 2 kilo bag of rice here costs the equivalent of $10 to $15! Considering that I see rice paddies everywhere, how can this be so? Well, we found the answer the other day, in an excellent book entitled The Japanese Today. I couldn't hope to explain this as well as Mr. Reischauer, so I'll let him tell you in his own words:

Generous government price supports help maintain Japanese rice prices that are five to ten times those of the world market. Economically it makes no sense for Japanese to grow rice, but lingering sentimental feelings about the small family farm as the foundation of the nation and outmoded strategic worries about the need to produce one's own staple food (even though Japan is already dependent on foreign lands for about half its total food supply) make the Japanese determined to maintain their agricultural sector, however heavy a drain it may be on the economy as a whole (pg 303-4)

To me, this phenomenon speaks volumes about Japan, although five months of living here has not made me an expert by any means. What I do know is that, when we were in America a few weeks ago, we were pretty tempted to smuggle some cheap 80-cent bags of long-grain rice back into Japan with us. Who would have ever thought we'd want to bring rice to Japan?

I Could Have Danced All Night...

If you've ever been in a dancing situation with me (Kelly), you know that dancing isn't exactly one of my talents. Actually, that's an understatement; every time my sister tries to teach me how to dance, the lesson ends with her collapsing on the floor in a fit of laughter. So you can imagine how excited I was tonight when I received a dancing award !
Mark and I went to a summer festival with some folks we know. I was dressed in a yukata, there were lanterns and drums...the whole shebang. When the dancing started, we joined in and were soon awarded dancing prizes. It turns out that I won the "good effort" award--that sounds about right, especially when you consider that my fellow awardees included the second-grader who was showing me the ropes as well as her grandmother! But I was glad that someone at least recognized my effort. Mark, of course, got the "good" award, which is a step or two above "good effort." What else would you expect from the kid who made a name for himself by busting out Michael Jackson moves at the eighth grade dance?
All in all, the festival provided us with a great cultural experience and some unique prizes...Mark won a camouflage camping lantern for his efforts, I was awarded a nice camping chair, and we each received a box of plastic wrap. Next time we need a box of plastic wrap, you can bet we'll be ready to put on our dancing shoes...