Sakura Season

If you visit Japan when the sakura trees bloom, be prepared to be amazed by their beauty. Also be prepared to swim through crowds at prime locations. The good news is that these blossoms are ubiquitous around town, so you can see and appreciate them anywhere. The sakura blossom is so exalted in art, literature, culture, and tourism that it has become iconic. Its image is larger than life. So it seems both odd and remarkable that, for a couple of weeks, I am surrounded by them in my daily life. For example, today I was biking to the grocery store on a small street lined with unassuming, unattractive even, buildings. Then, out of the blue, there is a large and beautiful sakura tree that looks more like art than real life. 

Sakura season is fleeting, though there are multiple varieties that peak at different times from early March to mid-April. The flowers from early March, for instance, are a darker shade of pink. Near my home there are a few popular places for blossom-viewing: the Meguro River in the Nakamegura neighborhood and the park near the Midtown shopping plaza, though the ambience there is more curated. In fact, all the major parks will have blossoms. My favorite is Shinjuku Gyoen, which becomes unbearably crowded during these spring weekends. If you visit without a membership pass, you will need to make an online reservation at least one day in advance. 

Shinjuku Gyoen

The sakura squad studying the map to strategize crowd control.

Even though this was a weekday, there were a lot of people and picnickers.

Passing by on a morning run.

Alas, there is always a balance to things. And the balance to all this beauty is hazy air full of pollen, unleashing hay fever on its inhabitants. 

Spring haze: usually you would be able to see Mount Fuji. 

This weekend will perhaps be the last one of full blossoms. We plan to take a lot of walks, maybe have a picnic, and snap a few photos. Happy spring!

Year Two: What I Miss and Don't Miss

It was funny to re-read my old blog post about "What I Miss After Two Weeks." A year in now, I have found happy alternatives to little things and gotten over other things. When my brother-in-law visited last summer, the only thing I asked him to bring was floss and face moisturizer. A lot has changed since then. It took a year for the dust to settle, and now this is my Nora Ephronesque list of what I miss and what I don't. Of course, there are the things I like and have learned to like - love, even - here in Japan. But I think my every blog post reflects a little bit of that. So here are the two lists: 

What I Miss

Cheese, especially the stinky ones.
Butter, Kerrygold in particular.

Girl colors that are not pink.

REI.

Our pediatrician and family physician, mostly because I knew them well and they, me. 

My dog.

The Montrose Dog Beach on a cool day.

Neighborhood ice rinks.

Trees outside my window.

Snow-covered trees outside my window.

Experiencing sunshine at higher latitudes.

Uncrowded places.

Cafe Istanbul and the general abundance of Middle Eastern food. 

Organic produce. 

The bulk section at Whole Foods.

Ovens.

Autumn walks in Bucktown. 

Halloween with kids in Bucktown.

Chicago Public Library. 

Taller counters. 

Putting things into walls, like shelves. 

Mrs. Meyers and Method All-Purpose Spray. 

Generous return policies, though I realize this is a double-edged sword. 

Bagels. 

What I Don't Miss

The mind numbing stream of sales and discounts.

Online shopping.

Receiving an invoice for $1000 six months after a doctor's appointment.

Calling my health insurance for clarification. 

Big cars, though the trend is not promising here. May the narrow streets of Tokyo prevail. 

Car-centric infrastructure.

Deep dish pizza.

Gun violence.

Being afraid to go out at night. 

The news.

Shoes inside the home by default.

The CTA.

CTA elevators. 

Range hoods that are connected to nowhere. 

Public toilets. 

Tipping.

Anything that has to do with American football. 

Small talk in elevators.

Small talk whilst checking out at Trader Joe's.

The massive discrepancy in the quality of primary education.

The incessant blast of air conditioning.

Vaccination debates. 

And since sakura season is so fleeting, I leave you with a couple photos of blossoms around town. They haven't yet reached their peak, so more photos to come next week. 

Karuizawa in March

    We took a quick weekend trip to Karuizawa. It's been our go-to for skiing with the kids (or the kid, for now), because at two and a half hours away via car and an hour away via Shinkansen, it is relatively close. The slopes there are also great for beginners. Winter is shorter in this part of the world, and with the effects of global warming, there are precious few months left for skiing. With warm weather having already reached Tokyo, we packed our bags for one last ski adventure. 

    We departed in the late afternoon and aimed for a dinnertime arrival. For a small resort town, Karuizawa has an astonishing number of good restaurants and bakeries. Our favorite soba restaurant Kawakami-an also has branches in Tokyo, but their Karuizawa restaurant offers more variety and nearly double the portion size. I mean this in a good way, as this is more a blessing than a curse in Japan, particularly with my two hungry girls. The catch right now is that it is low season for visitors. Many restaurants are now closed until the summer, when people flock to the mountains to escape the city heat. The restaurants that remain open now fill up quickly with reservations. We opted for takeaway from Kastanie Rotiserrie, which makes amazing roast chicken. 

   Since we were there just for the weekend, we headed for the slopes on Saturday morning. The slopes were unexpectedly crowded. Super crowded. I thought it would peak around noon, but it just grew throughout the afternoon. The downside of a ski resort like Karuizawa is that it there are a lot of beginners. While there are a decent number of ski runs, some are quite narrow. It felt at times more like dodging people than skiing. 

    Despite this, E had a great time. We had enrolled her in a group lesson this winter. E is a cautious by nature, and I thought being around other kids would be more encouraging. The fun thing about kids is their ability to surprise you. E had no fear of the slopes. On the contrary, she preferred skiing with us to group lessons because the latter meant less action and more waiting around. Of course, skiing together was also more fun because we were doing it together. And she learned much more quickly on her feet. As my old school motto goes, discimus agere agendo - we learn to do by doing. 

    Kids, since they are small, don't lose control of their speed as easily as adults. This is one reason why E had little trepidation. I would love to introduce her to cross-country skiing, but that is harder to come by in Japan. Near my parents home in Minnesota is an amazing cross country course that winds through a national park. It makes you fall in love with winter. Maybe we will be able to return there next year. It seems cross country skiing requires a bit more coordination and strength than alpine, so waiting a year or two will be good anyways. 

For now, it's goodbye to winter and hello to spring. 

Blossoms, Ballet, and a Bowl of Ramen

As if on cue, the trees started blossoming on March 1. Just like that, from one day to the next, temperatures rose and spring began, though it feels like winter was hardly here. Spring in Tokyo is long and beautiful. Spring weather sustains from March until June. In the last week, trees and flowers have been blossoming at a frenetic speed. One day, you see one or two blooms. Two days later, the entire tree has blossomed. 

The first sign of spring: the plum blossoms.

Yoyogi Park

I went with my daughter, her friend, and her friend's mother to a viewing of the ballet Swan Lake. We had seen the Nutcracker by the same Tokyo-based ballet company a few months ago. The Nutcracker was a huge hit with E. She has a book that tells the story while playing bits of all the major pieces, and she has been reading it several times a week since November. I wasn't sure how she would like Swan Lake. The Nutcracker definitely lends itself as a children's tale more than the more melancholy Swan Lake. E ended up liking it just fine, especially the last couple of acts where all the drama unfolds. Still, the Nutcracker holds a special place in her heart. Anyways, it was a beautiful day to go to the ballet. 

Little people enjoying the park before the ballet.  

Not that winter is inhospitable here, but everything is relative, and now that it feels warmer outside, we have been spending more times outdoors. Longs walks and open patios trigger my appetite. So do the decreased number of Covid cases. All these things have pushed me to try eateries beyond my neighborhood. Last week, I went to a ramen shop in the Ebisu neighborhood that hand-pulls its own noodles. "Traditional" ramen is made with a fish base, pork base, or a combination of the two. This one specializes in a ramen bowl with a chicken base. The noodles were incredible - you can really taste the difference! The broth was salty, but I guess no one eats ramen as a part of a low sodium diet. You might think chicken offers a leaner, more one-dimensional flavor than pork, but the broth was rich and flavorful. 

Love the deep orange color of Japanese eggs

This weekend, we are off to the mountains for one last ski trip before the snow disappears. By the time we return and my next post, spring in Tokyo will be in full swing!

A Tour of Japan's Dollar Store

    Before moving to Japan, I could count the number of times I had been to an American dollar store: three. Now I have already lost track of the number of times I have visited a Japanese dollar store. The big ones are Daiso, Can Do, and Seria. They are marvels of consumer culture and innovation. I limit the number of visits I allow myself because it is too easy to walk away with things I don't actually need - in a word, junk. I made a trip yesterday to pick up craft supplies for my daughter. Some items are permanent inventory, but others are seasonal. Here are some interesting things I found at Daiso:

Insulated Lunch Bags

Note the insulated case made especially for onigiri, rice balls.

Mini Measuring Cup

Super cute and dishwasher safe. It measure in milliliters, tablespoons, and teaspoons.

Animal-shaped Sponges

Training chopsticks

The bottom row is Shinkansen-themed and attaches to any chopstick to create a training chopstick.

A Bun Cover

Possibly the most bizarre item I saw.

Baby Shoe Clips

In Japan, adults, kids, and even babies take off their shoes whenever there is the possibility of the shoe sullying a clean surface. This is the case for babies in strollers. I see these baby shoe clips everywhere - wish I discovered this a few years earlier!

Nasal Aspirator

Like Nose Frida, and just as effective, but much cheaper. I bought one for our travel bag, because vacations need not be disrupted by congestion. 

Kids & Travel Toys

Baby Drink Holder

Mask Holder

Crafts Supplies Galore

Just a fraction of the crafts supplies.

Arts Supplies

Craft Project Kits

These are the kinds of all-inclusive craft kits that I like to buy for school holidays.

Some things are 300 or 500 yen.

Origami Paper

Daiso is so large. These are a small selection of things I usually buy or find interesting. As a tourist, I could probably spend two hours here. It is the perfect place to buy souvenirs on a budget. 

Year Two

    I've heard that there are phases to an expat's adaptation in a new country. First, there is the honeymoon phase, where everything is still novel and interesting. When the novelty fades, the homesickness comes, and so do the frustrations. Things don't work as you expect. Things don't work at all because you can't communicate properly. Beyond these frustrations, there is adjustment, and finally, some assimilation. 

    It has been a year since we moved, and I feel like I have finally landed in the assimilation stage. My frustration phase was in the summer, with the unpleasant weather offering an inauspicious backdrop to my homesickness. For me, the redeeming thing about summer has always been the farmer's markets: the abundant vegetables, the succulent stone fruits, and the beautiful berries. While the concept of the farmer's market exists in Tokyo, it is still rare in the city center. There is one near to us, but its offerings are relatively meager. As for stone fruits, there are barely any. As for berries, they are practically a delicacy.

    For the first few months, I bought whatever was easiest from the closest grocery stores. I was a servant to convenience because I didn't have the capacity to do more. I let go of a lot of details: organic, non-gmo, locally sourced, grass-fed, sustainably fished, etc. My goal was just to get a decently balanced meal on the table. That's how I ended up with a lot of Asian ingredients that I didn't know what to do with. (While I am intimately familiar with eating Chinese food, I am not as familiar with cooking it.) So I scrambled blindly from meal to meal, wishing I could just make something like a one pot chili (beans are expensive) or roast chicken (whole chickens and roasting ovens hard to come by). 

    These days, I am better at cooking with Japanese ingredients. I am also better at shopping for non-Japanese ingredients. All in all, things have been easier. I've learned how to better clean my produce, figured out where I like to buy what, and come to terms with what is available. We have a handful of favorite restaurants in the neighborhood. This is to me what the beginning of assimilation feels like. Still, I look forward to the day when I can sit down to a hearty takeaway meal of shawarma, tabbouleh, and hummus. 

Buying organic isn't easy in Japan. I have been using a naturally derived powder for cleaning impurities and residual pesticides. 

Nowadays Cafe, one of favorite neighborhood lunch spots. 

Behold the bright-orange Japanese egg yolk!

    Spending more time at home, however, is one aspect of my new life to which I am still adjusting. "Adjusting" is a polite way of putting it. I have the near-exclusive privilege to sort out the used dishes, the dirty clothes, the laundered clothes, the outgrown clothes, the toys, the groceries, the crazy recycling (though I truly appreciate the opportunity to recycle properly), etc., etc.. When you spend more time at home than your family members, all the above naturally becomes your purview. Doing these things feels different when you are doing it for other people, even if they are your family. It also feels different when you do more of this than anything else. I do almost everything, yet I do nothing. If I am honest, I sometimes grapple with my dignity. 

    Despite this, I am grateful for our life here. Although the society we live in is not perfect, it is safe. And for the first time, I feel like a direct beneficiary of the public welfare state. Allowances for children and subsidized healthcare and childcare are just a few examples (read about my husband's experience as a patient in a Japanese ER here). I'm grateful that my kids have enjoyed uninterrupted schooling at a time when this can't be taken for granted. E's school recently wrote: 

"[S]chools play a critical role in the lives of children – academically, socially and emotionally. As such, face-to-face learning and the ability to physically interact with friends and teachers is crucial for our    students, especially in the third year of an education disrupted by COVID. This is self-evident and non-negotiable.... [A] nuanced, adaptive, and flexible strategy is required to balance health and safety...while prioritising our students' learning. We have to live as a society...with the reality of COVID." 

I feel lucky that E's school espouses a philosophy that I share. 

    Until this move, all my major decisions were natural progressions of the previous status quo. Everything buzzed along predictably. In this sense, this year has felt like a passage to real adulthood. As we begin our second year in Japan, and as Covid-19 restrictions continue to ease, we hope to do less adapting and more exploring. 

It Snows in Tokyo

It has been a snowy rainy snowy week here in Tokyo. It's more sleet than snow, but more snow than rain. Did you know that it does snow here? Tokyo gets a small handful of snow each winter, though it rarely accumulates to a significant degree. Because of this, the city is not really equipped to handle snowfall. And because of that, I panic a bit at the mere hint of snow, as even a little bit can affect biking conditions, and I have become very dependent on my bicycle. 

Rainy snow.

This past week, the snow has mercifully melted by the next day. Last month, it snowed enough to accumulate a couple of inches and the temperature stayed low. What would have been cleared in Chicago in hours stayed on the ground for days here. I've spent nearly half my life now in cold, snowy regions, and have totally taken snow-clearing for granted. I naively set out on my bike only to encounter a road frozen solid with a layer of ice. Having never biked on ice like this, I continued thinking it would be ok. I paid for my optimism with a fall. At least I was going at a snail's pace. I suffered zero injuries and learnt a lesson: don't test the Tokyo roads after a snowfall. In retrospect, the fact that there were zero cyclists - cyclists who ordinarily bike through typhoons - should have been a warning sign. 

In other news, E recently had a birthday which we could not celebrate with friends due to the rising Covid-19 infections. Despite daily infection rates reaching all time highs, there has been no state of emergency due to high vaccination rates and relatively mild symptoms. Still, a party was an unnecessary risk, so we decided on an outdoor walk-by celebration. Her friend's family, wanting to make her day extra special, took E out for a pancake lunch and a playdate at the park. 

Just weeks ago, Covid numbers in Tokyo had been in the single digits and birthday parties abounded. It's all about timing. Although I felt guilty for not giving E the same birthday party experience, I learnt that kids don't care as much as adults think they do. E was just as happy having pancakes with her friend and playing at the park. In fact, her "disappointment" was really just a projection of my own disappointment. There are so many ways to make kids happy, and their happiness is not always proportional to the time, effort, and money you spend. So, despite another Covid birthday, it was a great one. 

To Pacifier or Not

My two year old daughter M, who previously slept like a log from 8:30 pm to 8:30 am, now sleeps with complete inconsistency. Last night she woke up crying four times. Each time, she asked for a sip of water, took a sip, and went back to sleep. Two nights ago she woke us up once. Three nights ago, twice. Each wake-up lasts just a minute and involves no more than a sip of water or a repositioning. This has been going on for the past five days - ever since we took her pacifier away. 

The pacifier issue is a controversial one in our family. Both my kids have used pacifiers from birth. E walked around with a pacifier until she was almost two and a half years old. She slept with one until she was three. Eventually, my husband, who is not fond of pacifier usage, took it away. When the time came, E cried for half and hour and moved on. It was a relatively quick and painless adjustment. 

My husband does not like the idea of M being addicted, in his words, to the pacifier. E was similar in that she would ask for the pacifier, and when denied, would negotiate "just a little bit." She would proceed to take a hit of pacifier for just a few seconds and return it satisfied. This drove my husband crazy. "See? It's an addiction," he would say. I suppose it sort of was, but it didn't bother me. Similar behavior in an adult is a different matter, but when it is a two year old and a pacifier, well, I don't view it as a problem. 

Our different perspectives on this issue stem partially from cultural differences. Pacifier use is not widespread in Japan, and certainly not on babies older than age one. A pacifier becomes a thing that only newborns use. From this angle, it's about emotional independence and maturity. It would seem then that a toddler's pacifier use signals over-reliance on an external source for emotional support. Yet it is a common practice for Japanese children to co-sleep with their parent/(s) well past toddlerhood and into childhood. While parents will lament this arrangement, they accept it as a cultural norm. And while this norm originated from a time when limited space warranted the practice, this is no longer true for many families. 

So here we have two similar but different examples of childhood dependence on external sources. The merits and flaws of each, I think, is simply a matter of cultural perspective.  

At any rate, we took the pacifier away from M with too much fanfare. There were lots of tears and prolonged protesting. In addition to what it was, it also became a symbol of rebellion. It's a loaded issue. We made it impossible to turn back on the decision. 

Last Week of January

This month has passed by in a blur. First with our race and then with a couple of unfortunate events afterwards that have kept us on our toes. 

The first of these events was a stomach bug, or possibly food poisoning - it was difficult to determine. The half marathon took place on a Sunday morning. By early afternoon, E was complaining that she didn't feel well. She fell asleep uncharacteristically on the living room sofa. At around 3pm, her sister woke up from her nap having had an accident. As I was running to change the baby and the sheets, I heard E wake up crying. By the time I ran back to the living room, it was too late: she had thrown up. It was a double disaster. Turns out, I was next in line. By bedtime, I had the same symptoms as E. Needless to say, it was a rough night. 

The bug lasted 24 hours, but it took a few days longer for our energy and appetites to return. This was three weeks ago now. I went for an easy run a week later and just didn't feel up to it. Whether it was the exertion from running the race or the fatigue from being ill, I have had little motivation to exercise. I don't feel the restlessness I usually feel after a few days of not exercising. And even though I ran a half marathon just a few weeks ago, the training has left me depleted. You would expect such training to leave you in great running shape, but my runs are slower and shorter than before. 

The second thing was that my husband broke his wrist after a fall from his bicycle. He fell trying to put his mittens on while cycling. At least he won't need surgery. We learned from the experience that emergency room medical service in Japan cost about $200. It took three and a half hours to undergo two rounds of imaging and an examination. Not too bad considering it was late at night when there are fewer doctors on service. 

With all that behind us, I've belatedly been thinking about New Year's resolutions. Although I do set goals for myself, they are not always in the form of New Year's resolutions. This year, however, is my first new year in a new country, so I've been thinking more about how last year went and how I want this year to go. 

My first is to engage in activities I enjoy rather than complete tasks that I feel should be done. One of my biggest pleasures in life is reading, and so my goal is to find three classics to read, three works of fiction, and three of non fiction in the next few months. My first classic is Au Bonheur des Dames, or The Ladies' Paradise in English, by Émile Zola. I've read excerpts for school assignments a long time ago. It is also a particularly intriguing topic for me living in Japan, where the department store and department store culture still flourishes, and women are still the center of that microcosm. My first nonfiction is Becoming by Michelle Obama. I'm almost done reading it. It is a wise, uplifting and grounding read. If you have any suggestions for good books, please leave them in the comments!

While Tokyo is known for great winter weather, it has been cloudy more often than usual these days. This is actually my preference. Coincidentally, it's also my perfect reading weather. So I will leave you here to finish my book with a cup of coffee. 

Beyond Two Kilometers: Setagaya Park

In terms of both population and geographical area, Tokyo is a massive city. It would take more than two hours to drive from some parts of the Greater Tokyo Area to other parts. However, our living radius, the area in which we live, work, and play, is much smaller. Our neighborhood, like all neighborhoods in Tokyo, operates like a self-sufficient town. There are least five grocery stores within 1 km from our home. E's school is less than 2 km away, and so most of her school friends are nearby as well. The grandparents are less than 1 km away. There are also countless services such as dry cleaners, dentists, medical clinics, flower shops, etc., within a short walk away. Compared to Chicago and probably most American cities, there are more independent businesses in Tokyo. Therefore, there is more competition and variety of businesses in each neighborhood. We don't all have to drive to the one Whole Foods or mega Target servicing a larger area. Cycling is also a favorite mode of transportation, so distances are measured in terms of cycling or walking rather than driving. 

We have no practical reason to leave our two kilometer bubble. While this is convenient a lot of the times (especially with little kids), it can lull you into a complacent routine that lacks novelty and exploration. This weekend, with winter temperatures being relatively warm, we decided to leave our bubble and visit Setagaya, a neighboring ward of Shibuya. We buckled our kids onto our electric bicycle and headed off to Setagaya Park. 

I have been wanting to visit Setagaya Park, but I didn't know much about it. We arrived around 10 am, and unlike most parks in our neighborhood, it was surprisingly uncrowded. We were greeted at the entrance by a large abstract fountain and some ducks. 

There were tons of activities for kids. The kids first tried the pedal go-carts. It was free and there was no line, a rarity in this city. It had real lanes, pedestrian walkways, traffic signs, and working traffic lights. It tickled me that the kids solemnly abided by all these rules. The kids drove on the left, yielded to "vehicles" as the signs designated, and stopped at red lights for a full minute before speeding off when it turned green. As there was no age minimum, M gave it a go. Although she loved it, she was too short to reach the pedals and not coordinated enough to steer. I pushed her and steered, which was slightly stressful because I'm not great at driving on real roads, and this resembled the real thing too much. The size of the carts was much more suitable for E, who also enjoyed it very much. We guided her a bit with the traffic signals. Based on their experiences, the ideal age for enjoying these go-carts is 4-6 years old. 

Next to the go-carts was a model steam train. You can't go inside the compartments, but you can climb onto and between the cars to examine it up close, which E found endlessly amusing. 

The model train and go-carts are located near the main fountain. Also near the fountain is a play gym with swings, slides, a sand pit, and a few bouncy cars. On the other side of the park is a second, larger play structure. Near this is a mini train that kids can ride. It goes around in small loop with real train sounds and a crossing guard who, to the kids' delight, puts down the crossing rails as the train passes. It is free for kids under 6 years old and 100 yen (less than one USD) for everyone else. 

By the time the kids finished the ride, it was nearly noon. The park had a couple food trucks as well as a decent concession stand. Since it was a nice day, there were lots of park goers picnicking outdoors. We went to a restaurant called Fungo just across the street from the park. Fungo is a small diner-like restaurant with hot and cold sandwiches, burgers, soups, and salads. Just the basics, but all decently made. The proximity to the park makes it the most convenient option for winter dining. Across the street is a pie shop called Granny Smith Apple. They sell whole pies and slices. We tried the English Custard and Rum Raisin flavors. The slices were small but delicious. 

E had wanted to explore the larger play complex, so we headed there after lunch. It so happened that a story teller was there reading to a group of captivated children. The storytelling was enhanced with music and sound effects. Whether it was impromptu or scheduled, it was very charming and the sort of thing I love encountering. 

By this time, my kids were tired out from playing. Two and a half hours was not enough time to explore the entire park, but we have more than enough reason to return. E spent the first half of the bike ride home negotiating her way out of a nap and promptly fell asleep for the rest of the way home.