When the shoe doesn't fit...

One of the saddest, hardest, more difficult parts of being in Japan for me is being surrounded by THE most beautiful shoes I have ever seen and not being able to wear any of them. Size nines (25.5 in Japan) are almost non-existent. For a while, I thought you simply couldn't find them in the entire country (as I had dragged the kids through countless shoe sections looking but never asking, because, well, that would involve talking), but then John asked for me one day and it turns out in every department store, hidden off in a corner far away from the beautiful shoes, they have a section marked "L", for size 25 and 25.5.

These are utterly sensible shoes (a polite way of saying ugly shoes) and the selection is, to be blunt, pathetic. Every time I looked at the beautiful shoes on the feet of every woman on the subway, at the kids' school, at the grocery store, I felt more and more like Cinderella's ugly stepsisters trying to cram my feet into the petite glass slipper. The only fact that has kept me from becoming truly desperate is that all of these shoes (hideous or gorgeous) start at about $160. So even if I wore a more dainty 23, it's not like I would be buying many anyway.

But then... this week the kids had two extra costume-fitting, performance practice days for the big show on Nov. 23, and so in addition to FINALLY getting some work done, John and I had a chance to do some shopping. We went to a place called POLE TOWN (a Pole in Pole Town!) on the way to a store we had heard about that carries large sized shoes... and (of course), it has closed down. Disappointed but undaunted, we set off for Daimaru, the fancy department store where Jack had, um, left his mark, as we had read in an English language newsletter that they were having a huge sale on shoes and handbags.

We arrived to the 7th floor to find ALL of the beautiful shoes, the $160-$250 shoes, on sale for $31.50! Hundreds of shoes, probably last season's styles but who cares! There *had* to be a pair here, John and I agreed. Briefly distracted by the handbags (either $31.50 or $52.50!), John pulled me over to the "L" section. Well, that might be giving it too much credit... I should say the "L" shelves. Yes, of the hundreds (or thousands) of beautiful shoes, less than two dozen were size 25 or 25.5. And most were very, very ugly.

I tried some on. I felt sensible. These are not what Japanese shoes look like. Where is the interesting detail, the lovely flair and fine lines and funky heels? Apparently, those things stop at 24.5. But then from the bottom shelf, John pulled out a pair of slip on flats... kind of like loafers. They have great details, nice lacing/ties on the side, and they were comfortable, and they were on sale -- and upon examining them further when we brought them home, I am pretty sure they are men's shoes! But I got them anyway, and love my Japanese (men's) shoes, and not surprisingly, they look great with my Japanese boyfriend jeans!

And here are a few other random photos of the week.








Katie falling asleep after a bath while watching a soccer match with John.







The girls getting their costumes on. You can see in the top of the picture to tops for the princesses and some spacesuits. Katie has on her pink skirt, and Livie is getting dressed, still wearing her brown pants.










Liv washing her hands and spitting before starting the school day.












Two boys greeting Katie and walking with her to the bathroom.












All of us walking to school (John taking the photo on the go.)


















Out for Mexican food, which, of course, the kids love.

Jack&kate&livie and the chocolate factory

It started out as a grumpy day. John had a lot of work to do. It was cold and wet. We all had spent too much time in doors. So as soon as John got his lecture submitted, we headed off to the end of the line in search of the chocolate factory we had heard good things about (who doesn't hear good things about chocolate factories!).

We almost didn't make it. There were potty incidents (needing them when they weren't around) and crowded train incidents and trouble finding the right coat incidents. But we plodded on, and the experience served as proof that it is ALWAYS better to get out of the house, and sometimes downright wonderful.

The Ishiya Chocolate Factory is famous for its Shiroi Koibito or "White Beloved Ones", two crispy cookies and white chocolate in between. It comes from the founder's description of snowflakes as "our white beloved ones" and apparently, among Japanese, these little cookies are THE thing to bring back when you have visited Hokkaido.

But going there is a little bit like walking into a world where Willy Wonka met the Lilliputians from Gulliver's Travels and they all decided to buy a bunch of toys on ebay and make chocolate while they were at it.

Let me explain. As soon as we walked in, they gave us each a Shiroi Koibito and these cookies are, indeed, delicious. But the tour of the factory was more than seeing the assembly lines chugging out sweets, although we did get to watch that. We also got to see a history of chocolate where a hologram of two little Japanese kids walked along a miniature display explaining the evolution of chocolate (take that, CNN... this place had its holograms in place LONG before you even tried to beam anyone in.)

And we also were exposed to some of the most unusual collections (rooms full of toys from the 1950s to the 1990s; hundreds -- maybe thousands -- of tea cups and saucers; interesting chocolate packaging; an odd assortment of memorabelia from the U.S. including JFK pins and a blanket of the Beatles tour; a small museum dedicated to the country of Columbia -- we thought of you Andrea and Diana; and more) housed in wildly opinionated architecture (here's the Tudor section and right down the hall you can see the Italian renaissance!)

On the third floor, we stopped in the chocolate cafe for fondue, chocolate milk in beautiful little tea cups with lids, and (for me and John), a cup of hot chocolate with Bailey's.

While we were there, the clock struck three and we watched (in awe, I must admit), as the clock tower out the window came to life and music and figures circled round and round while bubbles filled the air.

Nearby was a room filled with tiny (and EXPENSIVE) sugar creations -- babies, brides, flowers of all shapes and kinds -- that were marvelous to look at but too expensive to indulge in. I have some of them (and lots from the visit) at our Shutterfly site: jackkateliv.shutterfly.com (password: kozleski).

From there, we finished our tour and ended up by visiting the gift shop (where we sat with American presidents and the Mona Lisa and stocked up on cookies to take home).



With our White Beloved Ones in hand, we headed out to a magical world where the kids could have stayed all day... the outdoor space was filled with tiny houses, completely furnished and accessible to anyone who could squeeze in them.

They had bungalows and a lean-to and a soddie with a thatched roof, castles and lofts and even three tree houses (that were sadly not open to kids).

Illustrating yet again the humor of whoever it is who built this place, a child Jack's size could pop his head through a roof only to have a giant-sized Wack-a-mole nearly "wack" the child's head with a mallet!

It's hard to say what the kids liked more -- the perfectly-sized houses or the delicious chocolate milk they had just finished. The combination left them in a bit of a daze... and they didn't want to go (understandably!).

But we herded them out when, for some reason, other visitors started taking pictures of OUR kids in the little houses. At first it was sweet, and then kind of creepy, so we said our goodbyes and promised the kids we'd come back again. It's an easy promise to make -- we had as much fun as they did.

And the moral of the story -- if you're wondering if it's worth getting out of your house, even on cold, wintry days, it is. You might not experience quite the extreme range of strange that we did, but the world outside is almost always more interesting.

Babies, bento and the end of the season

It's been a busy week, but happily routine. The kids have been in great moods since the Halloween party, even as all three fought a cold this week (with Jack's getting the most serious but thankfully getting better now). Katie -- our Katie -- went to school all by herself Thursday when Liv and Jack stayed home and was SO fine. Yay Katie! The school is very busy getting ready for the BIG performance on Nov. 23 -- the costumes are incredibly elaborate and requiring extra school days for the kids to be fitted and practice. So all three went on Friday, and I took food to Hiromi and baby Fuuka, who got home from the hospital Thursday night.

Fuuka is *so* tiny, the size of Livie after she was born, but as always I had forgotten how small a new baby is. I was amazed at how familiar the conversation was, though. I asked how Himori was and if she is feeling OK... she said she felt great "just two pushes and whoosh, baby!" She is worried about Ayumu, who likes to hold Fuuka but doesn't understand about the wobbly head, and she is tired as the baby has her days and nights mixed up. I have had the same conversation with friends in the U.S. and Canada over the years, all with the awe and excitement and fatigue that I heard in Himori's voice. Some things translate in any language.

Some things don't though. I had tried to make a carrot ginger soup and brought a bunch of cut up fresh fruit for the family, too, remembering how well we were treated after the births of our kids... but I didn't have all the spices I usually use for the soup, or the blender to make it smooth. So, when I gave it to Hiromi, I apologized that it was not as good as I would have liked it to be (closer to mashed up baby food than delicious, flavor-filled soup). But... as John explained earlier to me... when you give food to someone in Japan, you apologize for how terrible it is. When Hiromi brought us soup one of the first weeks here, she said she was a bad cook and was so sorry to be giving us this pathetic soup. It was, of course, delicious. So when I gave this to her, I felt like I had to say "really, really, this is BAD soup! I am giving you disgusting, boring, flavorless soup! It won't kill you, and I remember being so hungry after the birth of my kids so I figure it's better than nothing, but it is just really not very good." She didn't believe me, but I have to imagine them around the table that night, tasting the soup and thinking "wow, it really IS bad soup!"

Also on Friday, I had to make bento boxes for the kids to take to their costume fitting/practice at school (no hot lunch on Friday). I LOVE these little lunch boxes... they are usually filled with tiny bits of fish, rice balls, veggies, and fruit, and fit together so cleverly (you can see Jack's chopsticks in the lid of his black box).

Jack, Kate and Liv asked for macaroni and cheese in their bento boxes, though. I figured, why not? So you can see in these photos the mac-and-cheese (box number 10 -- we have 14 left for the last 6.5 weeks!), carrots, and the same fruit salad I took to Hiromi. The kids loved it, and loved being able to show their classmates the kind of lunch THEY love best.

One of the things I had wanted to put in the fruit salad but sadly couldn't was what we have been calling "apple-pears" or Asian pears. We have had them in the U.S. and Canada before and have always liked them -- the texture of an apple and the flavor of a pear. But none of the ones we had in North America tasted as delicious as the (bushels? dozens!) we have had here. But they must be coming to the end of the season... first, I noticed I couldn't buy them in a four-pack, then, I couldn't buy them in a two-pack, and now, I can't even buy them one at a time.

We have noticed that the stores seem to stick to seasons far more than stores in Canada and the U.S. do. So when a fruit is out of season, it's gone! The delicious little apples we had when we first got here gave way to a bigger, different kind of apple, and now we have moved onto a third kind as well. We can still get some kinds of pears and apples, persimmons, and satsumas... but no grapes or apple-pears, and of course, no strawberries or other berries. One of the books I brought with me and finished reading is called Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver, which is all about the food we eat and where it comes from and how we get it. It has made me appreciate the little apples and apple-pears even more, I think -- knowing we were eating them when they were in season, locally grown -- and although we miss them, we are discovering the deliciousness of persimmons (which must be a November fruit) and other foods whose time is now.

It figures

We went out to Sapporo Factory last night (a HUGE mall with a beautiful Christmas tree) in search of dinner out. We are always on the lookout for good Indian food for ourselves (eating it whenever we get to Calgary or getting excited at talk of a curry shop opening in Lethbridge) and heard there was an Indian restaurant at the mall. We figured the kids could eat rice or something back at home as we have largely given up on them embracing new foods (or, as Katie says, food that is "different and kind of strange"). Yup, a totally selfish dinner out for the grownups.

After finding and being warmly welcomed at Taj Mahal, we settled in. The kids loved the decor, especially our glass table with spice seeds below and the elephants and multi-armed gods and goddesses. We ordered and got "kids plates" for the kids and a variety of curries for ourselves. John's soup arrived... and Katie and Livie LOVED it. The meals arrived, and Katie and Livie LOVED it. Jack loved the nan bread! And tried the chicken curry! Without complaint! They were the happiest kids out at a restaurant we've seen since we got here!

So -- did we go to the wrong country?

Election notes

FROM JOHN:
Listening to Japanese TV:

Obama-san.....change.....blue state.....kamo shirenai.....wakarimashita.

We have been following the election so closely for so long now, but mostly via internet. However, for the election results and speeches I have Japanese news on also. It is interesting to see how close the coverage is here in Japan (and closer still in Canada). We have approximately 10 channels, and as many as 5 were covering parts of Obama's speech. Only one occasionally came up in English, so we've left it mostly on this channel.

They do a stretch of the ABC feed--speeches and news analysis--and then they do a stretch only in Japanese. The ABC feed has been exciting and inspiring (we though McCain's concession speech hit the right notes too). The Japanese segments have been pretty interesting too (these are the fragments at the start of this entry). Lisa picked up on "Obama-san," and "change" as well as some of the "blue state" vs. "red state" map analysis. I listened to the Japanese expert explaining the election, the electoral map, the candidates, etc. to his colleague. Pretty good stuff actually. Sorting out the electoral college vs. popular vote for example. Good on ya -- many Americans probably would have a hard time explaining to someone from another country.

The expert was clearly at ease with the system. He was confident about what was happening even though he would end statements with "kamo shirenai"--meaning something like "it can't be known" but operating more like a "perhaps" to not sound too certain or confident. This note of uncertainty and openness to the possibility of being mistaken is not a bad habit, kamo shirenai. The other guy would ask the "common man" questions of why popular and electoral numbers are so different. The expert would explain, and the other would then say "wakarimashita"--that is, I understand. My sense was that he was (perhaps) asking and then showing understanding on behalf of other Japanese observers.

Last I checked, the two were discussing possible cabinet positions (I think, but my Japanese comprehension has its own issues and clear limitations . . .) and then it got a bit odd. Their backdrop changed to an American flag and presidential seal. Although Obama's victory speaks well of wide open possibility in America, it seemed a stretch that the Japanese expert had just won the White House and moved directly into the oval office! They panned out to a big screen by their backdrop where Obama and Biden each had one arm around the other's shoulder while waving to the audience with their free arms. Now the expert was lined up beside them and on the same scale. It appeared a president, vp, and Japanese expert had just been elected. If rumors are accurate that Cheney has made himself a permanent fixture in a secured location, this was becoming a very full executive!

Still, it seemed to me that the messages of inspiration, confidence, and understanding were meaningful in both the English and Japanese feeds. The Japanese use of kamo shirenai also reminded me that we can't know the outcome of many difficult problems that still face us. Nonetheless, the Obama election is very significant for substantative and symbolic reasons at an important time in history. This election has been watched closely around the world. This is natural with America's influence in political, economic, cultural, and many other spheres. Still, the excitement might also speak to a hunger among many in the US, many expats like us, and from citizens of other countries to love and respect America (or at least to admire and feel hope for its potential) in ways that have been so needlessly strained for more than half a dozen years.

Our friends in Canada and in Japan seem unified in their hope for Obama. Some of this may be based on symbol more than substance. However, as demonstrated by coverage from this Japanese tv show to papers in Canada, such as the Globe and Mail, much of the analysis is sophisticated and sees potential for greatness at a time of much need. The academic in me is very pleased to see a "first class intellect" accompanying what I see as an ideal and steady demeanor (this is one step up from the chief justice's appraisal of FDR as second-class intellect but first-class demeanor). When one adds to this the diversity of support--class, race, gender, etc.--the building confidence and enthusiasm goes beyond Obama to a sense of hope and pride in American people who seem to be turning out to vote and becoming engaged and enfranchised in ways that might suggest the short-term euphoria might have some legs.

The American population has often been popular abroad even when the president or governing party has not been. Let's see how it goes with both popular abroad. With luck (and some skillful campaigning by Obama and a classy concession by McCain) some divisions can be bridged and some amount of unified effort can be brought to bear on real problems. The connections are global--among people, nations, economies, environment--the solutions must be global, and this seems more possible with a candidate warmly welcome on the international stage.

This has been heart-warming to watch and it will remain exciting to see how it unfolds. We will miss Japan when we return in December, but it will be easier to return to North America with this outcome.

Yes we did!

I am so thrilled right now -- and even a little weepy. What an amazing moment....

Election

It's Nov. 4 here in Japan, and I am obsessing about the election.

One of the most important things to do on our "things to do" list before coming here was to make sure our absentee ballot -- usually sent to Canada -- would come to Sapporo. As U.S. citizens living abroad, we get to vote in the state of our last legal residence, Pennsylvania. As it is usually a swing state, and with the election being potentially so close and certainly so important this year, we were eager to make sure our voices were heard.

And so, I developed quite the rapport with Helene at the Montgomery County Board of Elections in September and October. We received our ballots in early October and spent $20 to overnight them back. Helene has assured me, via email, that our absentee ballots were received back in Norristown many weeks ago. I hope so. After watching the close elections in 2000 and 2004, and losing a bit of faith in the world of politics (if not humanity), I hope this election is fair for all of those involved.

I have only been in the U.S.A. twice for a presidential election -- the first time in 92, when I was at university, and the second time in 2000, when my heart lurched back and forth all night as I was working in the Bucks County Courthouse covering local elections and watching Florida swing back and forth. In 96 we were in England, and in 04 we were in Canada. Now we are in Japan. It's an interesting way to experience an election -- no annoying political ads (unless we choose to see them) and no real sense of how "real people" (neighbors, coworkers, etc.) are feeling. In some ways I feel overly involved, as I have spent FAR too much time reading about the election. But in other ways I feel very far away and detached, like I'm not truly a part of the process at all (aside from that absentee ballot, which is enough).

But I have never been as excited about a candidate as I have this year. I have so wanted to be involved in this campaign from the very start -- volunteer, knock on doors, do SOMETHING because I have never felt so inspired by any political candidate before. As there is not much the campaign office needs from Lethbridge or Sapporo (besides our money), I have mostly been trying to convert my dad to "my" side (not too successfully, I fear. But he's a good sport and loves me still, I think...).

Anyway, whichever "side" you are on, be sure to go out and vote tomorrow. Make sure your voice is heard, too. And whoever is president on Wednesday morning (and please, oh please, let it be decided by Wednesday morning and not in December in the courts), I hope that after it is over all "sides" can unite and move forward. I think we can do it.

Yes, we can.