Japanory

End of Term and Start of the Sakura Season

Friday 30^th March 2007

Today school finishes at midday for the Easter Holidays. Quite a relief for both of us, I think.

Parking was atrocious, so I had to leave the car parked illegally on the road and grab Rhiannon as fast as possible to hustle her up the road before the parking wardens' ticket me.

Home, quick lunch then, as it's such a beautiful day, we decide to go to Shinjuku Gyoen garden to see how the cherry blossom is coming on.

Hanami is the traditional Japanese custom of 'flower viewing' and the flowers to be viewed are Sakura, the beautiful, delicate cherry blossom. There is a sort of forecast, called, sakurazensen, where the blooming of the sakura is followed up through Japan from south to north and is announced each year by the weather bureau. The reason for this is that parties, hanami, need careful planning due to the ephemeral nature of the cherry flowers which only last a week or so.

Hanami is basically a day long party beneath a convenient sakura tree. Someone stakes their claim to a particular tree very early in the morning of the party by laying what seems to be a standard issue blue plastic tarpaulin upon the ground. Claims are not 'jumped' and the parties are very refined compared to any similar event in the UK. The loudest I've seen was a group of youths, (who in the UK would have been paralytic with alcohol, rowdy and annoying) but here were… skipping! Slightly drunk, singing songs and skipping with ropes! Unbelievable, but true.

Anyway, this afternoon was stunning and, as it wasn't a weekend the hanami parties hadn't started so we were able to see the enormous variety of flowers without interrupting a party. There were a few people around, mostly photographers who queued up to get the best shot of a particularly beautiful tree. Many of the trees aren't fully out yet, but it won't be long.

I'll let some of my photos tell the story now.

 

I have hundreds of Sakura photos! I found them irresistable and decided I need a new camera so I can get closer to them for more interesting pictures.

I already have about 5 cameras... none of which do precisely what I want!

The School Ball... for Children Only

29^th March 2007

What a fabulous idea! All the Reception year children are having a proper Ball this afternoon as an end of term treat. Parents are not allowed, except for a quick visit to take photos. Rhiannon tells me they have been practising dancing at school; "proper dancing - with BOYS"! From this I presume the teachers have attempted to instruct the children on how to waltz. How I wish I could be a fly on the wall.

The invitation states "Wicked Step-mothers and Step-Fathers to leave immediately. Ball starts at 5.30pm; carriages at 7.30pm"!

The theme, well considered for 5 year olds, is "Princes and Princesses". My little diva girl is so excited that she spends the entire time from returning home from school until it's time to leave getting primped and pampered. She wanted make-up, which I duly applied then rubbed most of it off before she noticed. Of course she HAD to wear her high-heeled sparkly silver shoes (bought by Tim, not my choice!)

And she gets a chance to wear her bridesmaid dress again, so that makes us both happy. I spent a lot of money having that made and there's little opportunity for her to wear it as it's too precious for standard dressing-up games.

We arrived at the school to see a long line of delightfully dressed up kids and proud mums. The school have even set out a red carpet for them to walk on, how thoughtful.

It's very easy for girls to dress up, but for boys, the challenge is somewhat more difficult. But there are so many extraordinarily resourceful and creative mums that the Princes looked fantastic. A lot of work had gone into their outfits.

A professional photographer was in place and each child had their picture taken by him before moving downstairs to the gym; sorry Ballroom.

Wow! The teachers had really pulled out all the stops and had turned it into a beautifully magical place. It was quite dark so was hard to see who else was there let alone take photos. The ceiling was decorated with streamers and fairy lights, a live band made up of some of the teachers played at one end with a bar set up at the other end. My daughter headed straight for the bar...

She completely ignored me from that point on so I was able to catch a rather scary glimpse into the future. I took some snaps to remind me that these childhood years don't last long and soon this bar-hopping, boy-chatting-up and partying will be "for real" in the not too distant future.

Before long, the order rang out that all parents were to leave. Reluctantly we drift away. I grab a quick hug from Rhiannon before she heads back to the bar and torments a boy or two on the way.

After the Ball I collect a rather dishevelled, tired and over-excited princess who had an absolutely wonderful time. She wouldn't tell me much about what they did, but she was extremely impressed with the live band because she didn't realise her favourite teachers could "do that"! I tried to find out who she danced with, but she wouldn't tell me.

Perhaps this was a good lesson for us parents too.

A School Meeting

Wednesday, 21^st March 2007

Today is a school holiday because the teachers are running a "how your child is doing" session with the class teacher. I don't remember the proper name for it.

I don't like schools. Hated it when I was there, hate them as a mother. But I have to pretend to be a grown-up once in a while so off I went at the appointed time.

Rhiannon wasn't allowed into the meeting and instead had to go to a common room on a different floor where she was supposed to play and wait patiently while I did my Mum stuff with her teacher.

Now Rhiannon is still painfully shy in many situations, doesn't like being left alone and is not enjoying school much. She's had a few run-ins with some of the children but not a lot of information is passed between school and parents. I was lucky in that one of the first things I was told (by another mum, not the school) that I MUST check the school newsletters online each week to find out what will be happening the following week.

After one particularly violent incident when Rhiannon was punched hard by a boy in her class for no reason, I had a word with her teacher. This is not encouraged at all, but hey! my kid, my right to know, thank you very much!

My complaint was brushed away with a wave of the hand, literally, and the not completely encouraging information that yes, they knew about it and to let them deal with it, don't interfere. Oh, and that particular boy "had a few problems". (As it turned out, Rhiannon stood up to him, befriended him and they became inseparable until he moved away a year later).

Anyway, back to the meeting. After peeling Rhiannon off me to leave her in the common room I made my way to the class to meet the teacher.

I was shown Rhiannon's work books and then was bluntly told that she really wasn't up to speed with anything, she was well behind all the other children and "didn't seem to be trying". I was made to feel that it was all my fault. Mind you, that is a Mum's guilt isn't it? Everything your child does is "the parents' fault".

Devastated, angry and upset, I told the teacher that considering Rhiannon hadn't been to school since mid-November last year, I thought she wasn't doing too badly. Teacher expressed amazement at this: apparently she was totally unaware of how much school Rhiannon had missed due to there not being a place for her here until January. How could she NOT be aware, when she was told this as soon as Rhiannon joined? So now this will be taken into consideration. Too little, too late.

No wonder the poor girl wasn't enjoying school; she was being made to feel incompetent by the teacher! Not only is she having to try and catch up with school work among children who have been having extra-curricular tuition too, she has to learn how to mix with a lot of children in a school which appears to have very little pastoral care.

I vowed never again to go to school report meetings; Tim can deal with them in future as he's far more mature than me when it comes to school stuff.

Yet Another Spoiled Playdate

20^th March 2007

Rhiannon has a lovely new friend in her class, Natalie. Her mum is pretty wonderful too so I've invited them both for a playdate. Well, the kids will play while Yoko and I sit and gossip! They arrived about a month ago from London, although you can guess by her name that Yoko is Japanese and her husband is American.

But two other children were suddenly thrust upon me too... by the ever-imposing Maria. I have no idea on the niceties of how to refuse to allow kids to come and play, especially as they were with her when she asked, but in the interests of my daughter making friends, I reluctantly agreed. She just said "Can my two come to your place today?" I know I could say no, but I'm still finding my feet here so my mouth said "yes".

I collected Yoko and the four children from school in the car. It was a very tight squeeze and the arguing started even before we reached the bottom of the hill from school.

"You're squashing me", "Move over", "I don't WANT to sit on your lap..."

Arrived home with great relief and prised the children from the car and sent them off upstairs. Peace at last.

I made tea and Yoko and I settled down to get to know each other a bit better. Our first topic of conversation was, of course, how did the other two kids end up to be invited? Natalie is extremely shy and Yoko was hoping for a quiet playdate – as was I.

Yoko has been speaking to the various Japanese mums at school and was imparting some fascinating information received from them about how peculiar Maria is and how it would be best for most people's state of mind if they just kept away from her. This I was beginning to understand; she has a way of making one feel inadequate, angry and sympathetic all at the same time.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Puzzled, I got up to answer it. We don't really get callers here unless it's the postman and it was far too late for him.

Ohmigod! It was Maria in the flesh! Not only had she invited the children, she'd invited herself!

She was obviously taken aback to see Yoko and a flash of offended jealousy went across her face. Hmmm.

Reading between the lines, she didn't trust me not to let her children watch "uneducational TV" and needed to ensure Rhiannon played nicely. Grrrr.

Needless to say the playdate wasn't a great success for us adults. And one of Maria's children broke something very precious of Rhiannon's. But of course, Maria wasn't going to believe that for one minute so luckily for us all, the date was cut short.

I will not be inviting them back again anytime soon.

But I will be seeing Yoko and Natalie as much as possible.

Apologies Once Again

Yet again my guilt at not updating this blog in such a long time leads me to post another apology.

This year (2009) hasn’t been an easy one so far, with illnesses befalling my daughter and my cat, numerous family issues and my usual severe shortage of time. I will document all this in due course, but suffice to say, both daughter and cat are now recovered.

Rhiannon’s condition was rather more terrifying than the cat’s, but we have just had great news on this so can relax now.

I am also desperately trying to get my article writing work up to date before the looming Summer Holidays launch themselves upon us at the beginning of July.

As well as all this I am in the process of setting up a new business and have started to write a book!

I do like to keep busy, but sometimes something has to take a back seat and just recently, this blog has been even lower down the list than normal.

Some sort of “normal” service will be resumed soon.

To The Ballet

Sunday 18^th March 2007

Today is Mothers' Day so I was treated to a lie-in, a delicious breakfast in bed made by my lovely girl (toast and marmalade), the obligatory bunch of flowers and a pretty homemade card which I will add to my collection; I've saved them all, of course.

I wish every day was Mothers' Day...

This afternoon, we have tickets to go to a special ballet performance laid on for children at the Tokyo American Club, commonly known as TAC. TAC is a member's only club which requires a lot of money to become a member, recommendations and seconded applications, then you're put onto a waiting list. We won't be joining.

It's an impressive place though, with many function rooms, a hall with a proper stage, gymnasium, an enormous swimming pool and probably a heap of other things too. No expense spared.

To say Tim is not a ballet fan would be an understatement, but he was forced to come along as an education. We took our seats ready for the performance. Tim has a 'thing' about sitting next to strangers – he doesn't like it – so he always takes the seat on the aisle if at all possible. This time, there was just one empty seat next to him so he thought he was safe.

However, just before the ballet was about to start, a vision of utter loveliness came and sat in the spare chair next to Tim: a tall, stunningly beautiful Japanese girl with luscious long hair and wearing in a micro-mini, high boots and displaying a very plunging neckline. Generously, I offered to swap seats with him, but for some reason he was perfectly happy to stay where he was in close proximity to this total stranger! He joyfully agreed he was very pleased we'd insisted he come to the ballet.

Sadly, his pretty companion left after a while and we next saw her on the stage, introducing the ballet! She was Riyo Mori, who would become Miss Universe a couple of months later.

The ballet commenced and after it had finished, the children in the audience were called up on stage to have their photos taken with the ballerinas. Rhiannon desperately wanted to be photographed with them but seemed to lose the ability to smile due to shyness!

Arrrr, ‘ere be Pirates!

Friday 16^th March 2007

Today is Pirate Day in Rhiannon's reception year.

No, I have no idea why either, but there you go.

It's a chance for her to get dressed up and have some fun.

I managed to get a cute girly outfit from EBay – she wasn't going to go "ugly", as she put it. And I am needlework-challenged, so there was no hope of me making anything.

She happily posed for photos and insisted on taking in her sword too. I do not envy the teachers there today – she's quite handy with her sword, and even though it's plastic, it packs quite a whack.

Parking is getting to be a bit of a pain at school now: the car park is regularly full of vans as there is some work going on nearby so we have to ensure we arrive early to have any chance of getting a space. The same goes for the reverse school run too.

All reception kids have to be collected in person from a small courtyard inside the school. It's mayhem. By Year 1, we can do something called "Pass" where the child comes outside the school and you can collect and drop off at the door. I dream of this day. Roll on September!

So I take her up to her classroom as usual, admiring lots of creatively dressed "pirates", and was delighted to see that the teachers had also dressed up. All the mums were gathered at the door taking photos too.

Rhiannon immediately went in and started a swordfight with one of the lads. Hah!

I beat a hasty retreat before any tears start - child's, not mine!

In the evening, Tim stomped in demanding to know how I'd pranged the car!

I hadn't, but it's got a dent and scrape in the wing so somebody obviously clipped it in the car park and I hadn't even noticed. Ah well, it's unusual to see any car here in Tokyo without a bump.

One of those Busy Days

A slightly full diary: I've been invited to coffee at one of the school mum's homes. She has lived here for nearly 20 years so I go expecting an interesting morning.

Finding her home was an education in driving and trying to understand the GPS, but I got there in the end. Some of these streets are so narrow it defies belief that a car can actually go down them. And this narrowness is compounded by the strange habit of planting the many telegraph poles about 2 feet into the road. Her residence was in a very British looking cul-de-sac and I was puzzled to see the wall bordering her house covered in lots of black plastic padding. It transpired she was unable to manoeuvre her very large SUV in and out of the driveway without scraping it so her husband had padded the walls!

It was a nice, if rather bland coffee morning, translated as no imparted gossip or scandal. This woman has a lot of fascinating things to look at, mostly crafts she's done herself; like washi paper covered books and boxes and a particularly lovely doll all dressed in a miniature kimono, all dutifully admired.

And I found my way home again too! Then to "the office" to drop the car off for Tim. But that was a scary trip. There was one huge junction that, if I took the wrong road, I'd end up on the freeway heading off to somewhere far, far away. I had no idea where I was going: one drawback of the road system here is that there are roads underground and roads high in the air with a couple of parallel roads running at ground level. At these points, the GPS gets a bit confused as all the roads are on top of each other so you have no idea if you've taken the right one because they all merge together on the digital screen. So I shot across the massive junction and at one heart-stopping moment thought I'd gone the wrong way up a ramp. Thankfully I had taken the right road and swore to myself I'd never take that route ever again. Way too scary.

All this is because my lovely hand-carved lantern and bowl is to be delivered to work ready for him to bring home tonight, so he needs the car.

However, I forgot to tell him that it came apart into three pieces: a base, the main part and a little ball to cap it off. I also neglected to remind him that they were hewn from solid granite...

Oh dear.

It took three of them just to lift the bowl, probably giving them all hernias. Then the ball fell off the top of the lantern and chipped a little. But not too badly and I console myself that it adds to the aged character of it. Tim had to bring a friend home with him to help him carry the items around the side to the garden. I couldn't resist pretending to dither about the ultimate position of these items in my tiny space, but they both swore a lot at me so I relented quickly and made some tea.

Rhiannon has gone to for a playdate; (to the same family as mentioned here Playdate from Hell .) I'm not too happy about this as there seems to be some tension between the girls, but I need to time to work and Rhiannon really needs the companionship of kids her age in order to help her settle in and learn about peer relationships. And it was offered so I'm certainly not going to turn it down. We'll see how it transpires. However, I do send Tim to collect her as I don't want to spend more time with the mother than I absolutely have to.

I still can't put my finger on why she rubs me up the wrong way, but it appears I am not alone, from what I hear from other mums.

    

Delusions of Nigella...

Sunday 11^th March 2007

I wish I could be one of those wonderful people who can happily throw a perfect meal together, look glamorous and entertain like a "grown-up". Like Nigella Lawson.

In my head, I can do it, but in real life, I just find it an appalling trial. I'm not a natural socialite and cooking just doesn't work out the way it should: but I blame this cooker which only seems to cook from the bottom up. Stuff burns on the base before the top is cooked.

Anyway, so many people have been lovely to us since our arrival, inviting us out, showing us around and entertaining us that I decide that we will have a "do" at our house.

I sent invites to loads of people, expecting about two thirds to come, but they ALL say yes! Panic immediately sets in. I try to calm myself by planning exactly what I will serve and write a shopping list. It bodes well that I actually remember to take this list to the shop, as I usually leave it behind.

Realising I didn't have enough crockery I made a quick dash to Oriental Bazaar and bought some attractive, cheap, yet beautiful dishes and plates.

Planning and preparing the menu was my personal nightmare, but for once it all went well. Some items I created in advance and froze while some I had to make in the morning. By some miracle, it all worked out well with no disasters! It would be tempting fate to repeat this. Besides, I do find it all very stressful.

For once my edible offerings were fit for human consumption! Homemade breadsticks – about 200 of them as it turned out (I sent people home with them at the end of the afternoon!), teeny savoury scones, smoked salmon and bagels, dips and chips. And the strawberries dipped in chocolate were a massive hit; so easy to do but they used up a lot of precious chocolate.

There were so many people that most had to sit on the floor or stand around the table. Everyone very kindly bought gifts – a fabulous tradition here: the first time you go to someone's house, you take a little gift. I got lots of bottles of wine, bunches of flowers and potted orchids. How delightful!

People came with children and babies. Rhiannon was in her element with a handsome older boy to play with. He's an absolute charmer and is very good with the little ones. I played with the newborns and my stress levels dropped away. I had a lovely time talking to well-travelled, intellectual people.

But I still don't think I'll do another one for some considerable time. And I am certainly no Nigella.

Time to Breathe

March 2007

Life is settling down into a routine now.

School run is a breeze now I have the car so I manage to get home at about 9.15am. Then I sit in front of the PC until it's time to go back to school at around 2.30pm.

Things I do while sitting in front of the computer:

• Listen to BBC Radio through the PC. This is quite weird as I use their "Listen Again" option so often hear news that happened several days ago. I do like it though as it keeps me in the loop of UK news and current affairs.
• Check email: I have 2 personal accounts and a business account. Reply as necessary.
• Make a cup of tea.
• Check my work forum: this takes a little time as due to the time difference everyone has posted stuff while I was asleep so there's quite a bit to catch up on. I add my comments, help and assist as much as possible. Unfortunately, my priorities have changed now and, as I no longer run my own magazine I am beginning to feel I don't belong here. I work for them behind the scenes, but can't contribute much to the work-related threads on the forum. Also, it's not really the place for personal chit-chat.
• Look at the news sites to see what's happening in the world.
• Make another cuppa.
• Look at the USGS website to see if there were any earthquakes I slept through. They have an option to complete a form if you felt one, so I always do this when I can.
• Look at the weather forecast.
• Repeat most of the above in case I've missed anything... did I tell you I am the Queen of Procrastination?!
• Then I settle down to work.

I'm scheduled to write the Tokyo Tales articles on a regular basis so I make a list of subjects and copy some emails and forum posts to help me remember things. [Now I'm writing this blog I'm so glad I kept these notes. I'm still more than two years behind and have no idea if I'll ever catch up.]

I also do quite a lot of the administration required for this work website so sometimes I dedicate the entire day to this as it's one of those jobs that have to be done in one go otherwise I'll lose track of where I am, archiving and so on. The software running the site is clunky but easy to use as long as I concentrate hard.

However, while I was in the UK, a nice part of my day was to phone various stay-at-home friends while the kids were at school. We would have a nice gossip in peace without the children interrupting or other-halves overhearing. Sadly, I can't do this anymore and I really miss it.

I can phone people in my evening, which is morning in the UK, but this takes up my evening when I should be spending it with Tim. During my day, it's the early hours of the morning in Britain and I know of no friends of mine that would appreciate receiving a call from me just to chat at this time.

So, I feel a bit lonely.

And March is always a hard time emotionally for me. Until now, being so busy has alleviated the depression, but now it hits with a vengeance.

Basically, from 1^st February to 16^th March is my "downtime" – it was on 1^st February 2004 that Dad had a massive stroke and turned our lives upside-down and 16^th March 2004 when death finally released him from the prison his brain had put him in.

It was the worst six weeks of my life. And sadly, these six weeks replay themselves each year.

Then one day I stumbled across a website that I consider to be a lifesaver. It's a forum where I can chat with lots of lovely mums, mostly from the UK, but some are in the US or Australia / New Zealand. Many are insomniacs so are online when my day starts. It's a place where advice can be sought and answered with amazing insight, the general chit-chat is fabulous and drama, support and venting of problems large or small is considered beneficial. I joined immediately and soon felt part of a caring cyberfamily.

The website? The Bad Mother's Club www.badmothersclub.co.uk/jsp/index.jsp?lnk=308

Thank you Badmums!

The founder of the site, Stephanie Calman has written these books which are highly entertaining.

Work, Work, and Driving for the First Time

20^th February to 23^rd February 2007

Four whole days of work. And I promised I wouldn't go on about this any more, so I won't.

Organising the school run and child care was tricky, but with the help of some well planned playdates at other peoples' homes, and help from Tim, all went smoothly.

Tim drove us both to the school for the morning drop-off and then continued with me to the office. On the day's I finished early, I would catch the train to school, which is a through run from the office, collect Rhiannon and catch the bus from Shibuya home. On days when this wouldn't work, I was lucky enough to manipulate Rhiannon into a playdate where Tim would collect her later in the evening. Perfectly civilised!

But Tim is going away on business next week, so I have to grab the car by the bull horns and drive it sometime. This I do on a day when I only have a half day course scheduled.

My First Driving Experience

One thing in my favour is that in Japan the driving is done on the correct side of the road! They drive on the left, the same as in Britain. All the signs seem similar, so I gathered my courage and set off on an exploratory drive around before heading off to the school. Tim showed me how to use the GPS – press this button, select that one and then press this one – all written in Kanji, so I just have to remember the positions. Far left, 2^nd from bottom right, centre, then far left again.

Nervously, I crawled out of the gates at work, turned left onto a really busy road as instructed by Tim, then left again as instructed on the map... and promptly got lost in the maze of tiny streets! Thankfully, the lady in the GPS got me back on track; track being a huge eight-laned road.

From the sublime to the ridiculous.

The roads here seem to be either very wide and multi-laned or extremely narrow. The narrow, single car-width roads are quaint and fascinating but dreadful to drive along due to the curious positioning of telegraph poles which for reasons unknown are placed at least two feet out from the house walls. These narrow roads are often two-way roads as well, which is quite frankly scary. Combined with people aimlessly ambling along the centre of the road, oblivious to the vehicle behind them driven by a terrified and lost gaijin because they are plugged into their personal stereo, this all makes for, shall we say, an "interesting experience".

It also appears that pedestrians have right of way. What an unusual rule! Correctly so, in my opinion, but a bit of a shock to start with. All pedestrian crossings seem to be located on large junctions, so when turning left, you are suddenly confronted by a sea of people making their casual way across while you wait. Now something makes sense. Nobody crosses the road here unless the 'green man' light is on. Even if there is no car within 2 miles, you wait until the green man says go... Also, nobody 'jaywalks'.

This is all very different from traversing the roads in Britain where you learn to judge a vehicles speed, distance and your chance of survival very quickly as a pedestrian.

Also, to my utter joy, I discovered there do not appear to be roundabouts here in Tokyo! I loathe roundabouts and harbour evil thoughts to the people who invented them, most especially the ones with several lanes and more exits than Shibuya station. Woe betide you if you find yourself in the wrong lane for your exit on one of these monsters; you could be circling for hours without escape. And I don't believe they help the flow of traffic at all.

Instead of roundabouts, Tokyo is littered with traffic lights instead. Every hundred metres or so... and that is not an exaggeration.

I don't mind traffic lights: you know where you are with them. Red means stop, green means go. Easy. However, orange seems to have a slightly different meaning to the one we're used to in the UK. Here, amber seems to imply "if you think you can get through before the light turns red, then go for it – and even if you don't, go for it anyway!".

Anyway, I survived my first drive! I managed to find my way home with just a slight detour then back to school again.

Next I had to negotiate the car park. Once again, most car parks have a different system to the UK and it is one that WORKS. It used to be like this in Britain, but things changed. Here, you pull a ticket from the machine on the way in to lift up the barrier then pay on your way out based on how long you were parked there. No "Pay and Display"!

This ridiculous system used in Britain means you have to guess how long your shopping trip will take before paying for the ticket. As any shopaholic / mum / living human knows, you just cannot gauge how long an expedition will take as too many random factors come into play. What if you get distracted by the special offers? How about those times when your toddler needs to use the toilet just as the time for your ticket runs out? And let's not even mention the queues at the supermarket...

Unfortunately, the car park is closely packed and full of people carriers. Negotiating your way into a parking space is quite tricky and reversing in seems to be the norm. Something I'm not ready to attempt just yet! A cute addition is the inclusion of small 'stop' bumps – short barriers to stop your wheels just before you hit the car parked in the adjacent parking place.

Now I understand why every car in Tokyo sports a few small bumps or scratches somewhere on its bodywork. I wonder how long ours will remain bump-free?

A Day Just for Me

Monday 19th February 2007

With Tim taking full charge of Rhiannon today, I can treat myself to a "Me Day". Bliss!

To start, I will be going to a lesson at the Tokyo Union Church. The part that runs the classes is called the Tokyo Union Church Women's' Society - TUCWS. Their range of courses is incredible and I hope to attend many more, time allowing.

The course I am attending today is all about Japanese Gardens. I'm hoping to learn just how to create one, the meaning and history behind them and most importantly, where to buy the goodies that contribute to them, like plants, rocks and gravel. I'm still awaiting delivery of my lovely lantern and bowl and have read that they need to be placed just so, I'm eager to discover why.

It was held in the kitchen, which was strange, and led by a gentle Japanese lady and attended by about half a dozen other ladies, all American. However, the class didn't delve into the whys, wherefores and how's but was more geared towards a series of poorly photocopied handouts showing where to go and visit the most famous of them. A lot of time was spent telling us how to get to them using public transport, which bus to use and where to disembark.

I was rather disappointed but learned a little bit, but still no nearer finding out where to find a garden centre.

After this, I had a hair appointment at one of the only hair salons in Tokyo that cater for Westerners - "Sin Den". Just a cut today, but will book up for a colour soon. My hair at this time is brown with a cerise fringe and sides. I had it done before leaving the UK in the hope that it would dissuade the Embassy from trying to employ me... it didn't exactly work, did it?!

Armed with a map, I discovered the hair salon was within walking distance of the church, so I wandered down some tiny and confusing streets but still couldn't find it. So I called them and they talked me in.

Lovely place, all lush and decorated in black. The hair washing stations had beds rather than chairs, but don't quite fit me and my legs stuck out from the knees down. Good haircut, so will return.

Then to head home, I decided to walk as it was such a lovely day and I was fairly sure that it wasn't too far away. I discovered that once on the main road, it was about a half hour walk to get home. It was fascinating to see some of the shops and buildings. One in particular caught my attention: a magnificent florists with some enormous and very expensive plants on sale. One instalment was particularly beautiful, a deep red bowl, about a metre in diameter and filled with water. The water was covered with duckweed, a pest in British ponds, but used to great artistic effect in this case.

A nice "Me Day". Back to school tomorrow for Rhiannon and a full week of work for me.

Short and Sweet

Saturday 17^th February 2007

Tim's not due back until this evening yet we have been invited to a "meet the baby" do at one of his colleague's homes. Although I feel a bit awkward visiting someone I haven't yet met, I force myself in order to gain quality of life by meeting new people.

Luckily, their home is within walking distance, a couple of blocks away so Rhiannon and I head off. She takes the opportunity to ride her bike, which does little for my nerves.

We ended up having a lovely afternoon, meeting a gorgeous new baby girl, her parents and other lovely couples and individuals. Lovely food, great music and interesting conversation with intelligent people.

What a relief after yesterday!

Tim's arrival home was greeted with much joy by Rhiannon and relief by me.

He's taking Monday off in lieu so I can go to my very first class at the church. (Still find that a hard sentence to write. Me, going to a church! Hah!!)

Playdate from Hell

Friday 16^th February 2007

Oh great. Tim had to go away on business in the middle of half term week. He's such a good hands-on Dad that this makes life harder for me. And I don't like that!

Still, Maria has invited herself and her two girls over for a playdate today, so that should ease the load a bit.

How wrong I was.

She said she'd be over just after lunch, so about 1pm. I gave the house a really good tidy up and waited. And waited. And waited...

Eventually she rolled up at nearly 4 o'clock. No phone call to explain, or was I expecting too much? Apparently they had been out buying new school books. Why they need books I didn't find out until a bit later.

The first thing Maria said when she sailed through the door was "Oh, I do love a messy house! It makes it look so quaint and lived in"!! [Insert many under-the-breath swear words here]

Not a great start. It got worse.

I made tea, my usual lazy way – tea bag in cup. But no, that wasn't right! She proceeded to lecture me on how I needed to use a teapot as she drinks a lot of tea and this method won't keep up with her needs... And which tea I should buy. And where to buy a teapot. I have teapots, I just don't use them much. We make a date to go to Kappabashi, "kitchenware town" where all the ceramics and all sorts of interesting things are sold. Like teapots.

Then she proceeds to look through all my things, inspecting my books and ornaments as if to check my credentials. Not a problem, I'm happy with my credentials and don't need affirmations from her. She found nothing to criticise and sat her not insubstantial frame down on the sofa.

She tells me that she's so happy to have found me, and that her daughters need a "nice English speaking girl with a good vocabulary as a friend". What an odd comment!

However, the girls didn't really get on.

Three is always a crowd with children, especially when a couple stick together like the two sisters, and one is a bossy little madam like my daughter. So there were constant interruptions by all the girls of "Muuu-uuum, this has happened", "she won't let me play", "she has broken my toy", and other bickering. Most of the time, and if I was on my own with them, this would have been dealt with in my standard way: "play nicely or come in here where I can see you", depending on how much telling off was required. But Maria has a rather different way of parenting in which every incident was psychologically dissected and somehow, very cleverly, the blame always seemed to lie with Rhiannon or me. It was over two years ago now, so I can't remember the specifics, just the feeling I was left with. This wasn't really apparent until after they'd all gone, so cunningly was it done.

Between information and advice upon everything under the sun, freely given by her, I discover that her kids are being what I believe is known as 'hot housed'. The girls are 5 and 6 (although there has since been talk that the ages have been misinformed in order for them to get into a higher year at school so they may be a year younger than this). Their bedtimes are no earlier 10pm because they spend their entire evenings doing various classes from ballet, violin, piano, Japanese plus a lot of extra home learning. They are never allowed to watch anything on TV that might possibly be construed as entertainment and all reading books are educational. All weekends are taken up ferrying the children around to various educational facilities and basically, life revolves around them.

Each to their own, but I don't want to be told that my way is wrong, which is what was being implied.

Once they finally left, I felt exhausted and drained. But worse, on analysing the afternoon and the various veiled remarks, I felt like the worst mum in the world! Later I felt angry that someone could make me feel like that.

My eyes are beginning to be opened to this woman now and what I see is not pleasant. I will go to Kappabashi with her and see how that transpires, because I need someone to show me around (yes, OK, I'm using her), but I will see if I can organise the next playdate, if there is one, so that I have just one child, not both.

Snow Town Yeti

Tuesday 13^th February 2007

OK, I agree this is a bizarre title, but it is the name of an actual place; a snow resort at the base of Mount Fuji. http://www.yeti-resort.com/e/index.html

As it's half term, and Tim has to go away for most of the week, he's taken a day off work to take us for our first real trip in the new car. We did go to Costco at the weekend, but that's not really a trip worth blogging about again (yes, we bought more toilet paper!).

We read about Snow Town Yeti in a magazine here called Tokyo Families. This is a very useful little mag giving ideas for days out suitable for children.

Miraculously, Tim has managed to work out how to use the Japanese GPS system in the car. In fact, I don't think he's been doing much else at work this past week apart from playing with the car which has been on the premises while the paperwork was being completed. One thing that made me laugh was his utter horror when he saw the digital map flash up with numerous swastikas. Swastikas, as I'm sure many of you know, are a symbol for Buddhist temples and we have a lot of them around here; the sign was used long before the Nazis took the symbol on.

So, Snow Town Yeti has been plugged in as a destination and we are almost ready to go.

First of all though, we have to get suitably attired for it. I possess nothing remotely appropriate for playing in the snow apart from a huge duvet parka. Ski-trousers and sensible boots are not part of my wardrobe, but then I never needed them sledging as a kid so probably don't now...

Rhiannon is to be kitted out in many layers of clothes under her "zoot-suit", an all-in-one waterproof affair she's had since she was two. Way too big for her then, she's finally fitting into it perfectly. New snow boots have been purchased for her. And her red puffa jacket to match Daddy's.

There's a cute story attached to this jacket: when I was pregnant, Tim went to China on business and returned with matching red jackets for all of us, bump included. Now, I find his and hers matching clothes incredibly icky and quickly donated mine to someone else. However, the jacket he thought would perfectly fit our soon-to-be-newborn was enormous! Not having had much contact with babies, he actually thought this jacket was newborn sized... *horrifying thought*. It didn't fit her until she was four years old!

Sledges have been bought, but the shop only had two left so we'll have to take turns. I can't find an old cattle-feed bag like I used to possess in my childhood – now that was a good sledge.

And off we go.

The lady in the GPS only speaks Japanese, but is very polite and doesn't get annoyed when we make a mistake. But the pictorial map seems easy enough to follow. The toll roads are fairly straightforward too, the cost is 700 yen per gate, and each gate is manned by cheerful individuals (what a job! Amazing they can be so jolly.) Getting to the main freeway was quite tricky as the entrances are really well hidden and it took a few attempts to understand that the small green arrows meant "This way to the main road".

An aside – why are they called "Freeways" when you have to pay to go on them?

En-route, I enjoyed gazing out the window watching the world go by, experiencing a whole new side of Tokyo not yet seen. From the huge skyscrapers of Shinjuku to the smaller, more traditional buildings. Many, many highly decorated shrines and temples and fascinating little shops. Lots of opportunities for a little giggle too as this sign indicates.

After some time, Mount Fuji appears straight ahead of us. Although still far away, this mountain takes your breath away with its symmetrical beauty and suddenness of appearance. Unexpectedly looming in the distance, it's snow-capped peak beckons and even the car- driver's nightmare, Rhiannon, perks up. "Are we there yet?"

Success! We find Snow Town Yeti and have some simple fun by watching the temperature drop as the car climbs the mountain (thermometer in the car). It got to about -10°C upon arrival. My jeans are not seeming like such a good idea right now.

The car park is empty and free, but apparently this is because all the Japanese schools are not on holiday so we are lucky. Entrance is straightforward too – we aren't going skiing or hiring anything, so the price is minimal. And we're in!

The layout is a few shops selling and hiring equipment, vending machines, of course and a restaurant. Outside the restaurant are a number of fire pits which look like they will come in useful later. Steps lead down to the snow. The snow isn't 'real', but created by a snow machine. Who cares? We certainly don't! It's not plastic; it's cold and is frozen water droplets, therefore it is real snow.

The place is almost empty and we spend the next four hours having an absolute whale of a time! I love sledging!! Interestingly none of us are into skiing – me for my dodgy knees, Rhiannon because she's a scaredy cat and Tim just doesn't see the attraction. One day I'll try it, just to see, but for now I'm happy to return to my childhood and slide as fast as I can down hills on a piece of plastic.

From time to time we take a break and grab some coffee or hot chocolate from the vending machine and sit around the firepit before heading back to the slope. We had some food, but it was revolting, like a particularly bad McDonalds.

Four hours of sledging is a great exercise – I found muscles I didn't even know existed. And surprisingly didn't get too cold. It was a beautiful day, and of course, the exercise kept me toasty warm.

After a while, the snow had compacted to the perfect consistency and rather than being stopped by the small upward slope at the bottom of the run we started going up it. Rhiannon very nearly went over the edge which frightened her a little!

Around the top of the hill the snow had melted and while Tim and I drank another tin of coffee Rhiannon wandered off to a baby's playground whereupon she promptly fell over in the mud. Time to call it a day

Days like this usually end in tears for a five year old. We all slept very well that night, but trying to move the next morning was painful!

To Drive or Not to Drive...?

We finally have the car. Hurray! Just in time for the half term holidays coming up.

But I'm too terrified to drive in Tokyo just now, so Tim uses it to get to work while Rhiannon and I take the bus as it is so easy.

Why am I terrified? Well, I learnt to drive in Devon, many, many years ago. Lovely, gentle Devon where there is little traffic to negotiate, tiny single-track lanes lined with soft grassy hedges and easy, simple roads with no roundabouts. I am a dab-hand at reversing quickly and adeptly to a passing place; I can wait patiently while a herd of cows or flock of sheep bustle past me; emergency braking when confronted with a combine harvester on a blind corner is no problem and passing tractors on a bend road was a risk I was willing to take.

And then I moved to London. This was in 1988, just as the "hot-hatch" problem arose (I had an XR2 at the time). From costing around £300 to insure in Devon, the cost suddenly shot up to astronomical regions. And that was with the only two insurance companies willing to quote for someone under the age of 25. Insuring it would have cost more than the car was worth, so I reluctantly sold it (for more than I paid for it, hee hee!) and went onto permanent public transport for the next 12 years.

I lived next to two train stations so it wasn't a problem. Well, that's a misnomer as we're talking about London public transport, but I'm sure you know what I mean.

Then I met Tim, and moved to Northampton where I was forced back into driving again as I had to get from home to the train station, 7 miles away, usually at 6am, for my commute to London. My nerve deserted me and I found I was really scared of driving! How ridiculous. In my defence, the area was littered with far too many roundabouts than are necessary or healthy, and filter lanes which I had never used before. Plus I have no sense of direction and can get lost just crossing a road.

Tim bought me a GPS / SatNav system which helped me no end. But it took a long time for me to feel comfortable driving again.

So Tokyo's notorious traffic, multi-laned roads and complicated road signs are somewhat daunting to me at the moment.

I will overcome, of course.

Party Girl

[Random date – before the last few posts anyway!]

Rhiannon has been invited to a birthday party. The birthday girl is the daughter of one of Tim's colleagues and a year or two older than Rhiannon, but so sweet for my girl to be included.

She is SO happy about this as you can see from her photo! A chance for my little diva to get all dressed up and mix with some new people.

Sadly, she's been finding it hard to settle in school, having missed out on so much schooling during and after our move. The level of teaching is far above that of her school in the UK so she is lagging behind significantly, despite our efforts to help at home. She's a stubborn little soul. There are also peer problems.

Even at reception age, little girls can be bitchy, which is quite shocking really. Rhiannon desperately wants to be friends with the "alpha" girl, who knows how to play a mean game: one day she's all friendly, the next she doesn't want to speak to Rhiannon. My poor girl cannot understand this at all and I find it heartbreaking to see her try desperately hard to work out why people are like this. I try to tell her to find someone else to play with, but she's set on this girl.

Another issue is the "fitting in" aspect that I guess all young children want. Many of the girls in class are of Asian origin, with dark hair and eyes. Rhiannon, being blonde and blue-eyed stands out and occasionally says she wants to look like everyone else.

Plus she's in a class with a particularly disruptive boy. And the teacher spends more time keeping this one lad in order than looking out for the other pupils. He seems to thrive on one-to-one with the teacher and knows that misbehaviour is the way to get it. Every day there is some sort of altercation to report, but even though I've tried talking with the teachers, nothing is done. Apparently, this particular boy has "known issues": on Rhiannon's first day of school he punched her in the chest, hard, for no known reason. I've spent hours advising her on how to deal with him, ending up with telling her to stand up to him, rather than run off crying to the teacher. She's very kind hearted and one day, while the lad was picking on someone else, Rhiannon stepped in and did just that – stood up to him. He backed off and some weeks later, they became firm friends, culminating in mutual playdates.

But I digress...

Perhaps this party will help her feel wanted by her sort-of peers and it's always good to have an older friend at school.

The party was held in a room above the Hard Rock Café and she had an absolutely fantastic time with games, plenty of food and the obligatory goody bag. They played bingo, which she needed help with as she's not au-fait with the game.

It's good to see Rhiannon smiling properly again.

In Which I Go Out For Dinner

7^th February 2007

It appears that a ritual with this school is that the mums regularly organise girls' nights out. How lovely!

I haven't been out much these days. Well, by "these days" I mean about 5 years. Since moving to Northampton and having a child, I've become rather a hermit due to circumstances such as nowhere to go, nobody to go with, and no babysitter. It looks like life is finally about to change: I love being back in a city!

So, this night-out has been planned. I'm going. Tim is staying at home with Rhiannon who is most put out that Mummy is actually going somewhere without her...

The restaurant has been booked for around 20 ladies and directions given, but apparently "it's quite hard to find unless you can read Japanese". Interesting.

But all was well. A couple of ladies I recognised were standing outside the building to direct lost gaijin.

The interior of the Toriyoshi Restaurant was exceptionally sophisticated yet somehow traditional. I was escorted through to the reserved room where most people were already seated. I was looking forward to chatting properly with some of the other mothers from Rhiannon's class. But something was amiss...

The long table was occupied mostly at one end only, at the other, empty end sat Maria who immediately collared me to sit with her. I couldn't refuse; besides, her true personality hadn't revealed itself to me by this stage. But I should have noticed the alignment of people, i.e. everyone else was sitting away from her... and I was effectively barred from chatting to anyone else.

However, food and drink was soon served so I metaphorically shrugged and tucked in. This was my very first taste of Japanese food! I'm embarrassed to admit that even though we've been here over two months, it's true.

The set menu had been pre-booked and the food just kept on coming and coming. Just about coping with my chopsticks, I tasted my first sashimi – and found it to be absolutely delicious, and drank various different types of sake. Maria told me all sorts of in-depth information about the different types of sake, but unfortunately I cannot remember a word of it.

I also had something called silken tofu, which was not delicious. I didn't like it, the taste wasn't pleasant and the texture was repulsive to me, which was just as well as I couldn't pick it up with chopsticks at all: it has the consistency of soft blancmange.

The only time the other ladies took notice of Maria was when a shabu-shabu arrived. Maria is apparently an expert on all things Japanese so she cooked it for us. It's basically a pot of boiling liquid on top of a burner where you cook your own food, a mix of meat, vegetables, tofu and other items. The mushrooms were more like the kind of fungi found growing on rotten trees in the UK, but tasted fine.

Then a big bowl of something odd arrived. At first glance it looked like chips, but on closer inspection was something covered in batter. It looked appetising so I grabbed some but when I bit into one I couldn't believe what I was eating! It was deep-fried tendons!! Yes, the triangular pieces of gristle from a chicken. However, the he batter tasted scrumptious, so I just ate that and left the rest.

Meanwhile the sake had been substituted for champagne and even though I didn't get to know any of the other ladies it was a very good night. From what I remember...!

We Have Wheels!

Unbounded joy! Tim has found us a car!!

Second-hand cars here are very cheap compared to the UK and we never buy new anyway. And we also don't follow the crowd of other expats who buy the biggest people carriers they can find then wonder why they can't negotiate the tiny streets without dinging the bodywork. However, they do have some fancy gadgets in them including a rear-view camera with alarms that go off when they reverse too close to something.

So, we will soon have a little pale-gold coloured Toyota. The British name for it is the Corolla Verso while here it's known as a Spacio.

Happy, happy, happy!

There is the small matter of a large pile of paperwork first, so that has been completely delegated to Tim to deal with. All the driving licence stuff has been completed as you will have seen from a previous post.

To own a car in Japan you also have to prove you have a parking space! What a brilliant idea – something for the UK to think about, in my opinion.

Transfer of ownership forms have to be completed for used cars, mandatory and optional insurance bought, and the number plate to be re-registered in our name. The optional insurance is actually compulsory if you want full coverage. Nice little ploy.

Luckily, being diplomats, we are exempt from car tax and the compulsory shaken, Japan's version of the MOT. Pronounced 'shah-ken' (which is a shame, as the spelling pronounced in English is more apt) this is a very expensive and compulsory inspection; which is why most people don't buy second-hand cars, preferring instead to get a new vehicle every couple of years. I believe a shaken costs around £1200-£1500!

Further driving costs are toll roads, which can add quite a considerable outlay to your journey, but petrol is really cheap. At the time (early 2007) the cost of a litre of fuel was about .50p. Plus we get this duty free due to our diplomatic status. We are indeed privileged.

Sorry to all readers in the UK who have to pay exorbitant rates for your petrol.

Hopefully none of this will take too long and we can get out and explore Japan

Stone Lanterns and Other Wonderful Things

6^th February 2007

What a fabulous day! I went on a trip with a few other mums from school, organised by a fabulously capable lady called Connie.

All neatly sandwiched between school hours and very slickly organised with regards to train times and connections, about ten of us went to a place selling Japanese stone lanterns and other gorgeous items. A mega-shopping trip!

From Shibuya station, we caught two trains and after an hour ended up at a place in the country called Zushi, which was even further away than Kamakura. At Zushi station, the son of the shop owner met us with a minibus and drove us to his father's small workshop set beside a narrow road.

What heaven! Already deeply admiring Japanese culture of most kinds, I had done a little research into these special ornaments and decided to treat myself to a small lantern. It has to be small as our shipping allowance wouldn't permit transporting many extras on our next trip, either back to the UK or to another country.

But the choice was overwhelming and with more than just lanterns to choose from, we all found it very hard to make a decision.

I was astounded at all the other women being unable to make a decision without their husbands' approval. They were all taking photos of various items, then sending them via phone for hubby's opinion. Tim wouldn't have been at all impressed if I kept bugging him like this, and besides, he knows my taste is far superior to his!

It still took us all 2 hours to choose which of the beautiful, hand-carved stonework we would buy for our gardens. There were so many delightful styles to choose from, and what I really wanted wouldn't fit into my tiny garden. At one point, the son came out with cups of hot orange juice for us. Delicious and unexpected, it turns out that this is a particular type of Japanese orange called Mikan which grows in abundance here.

I chose a small dark-coloured granite lantern, and couldn't resist also purchasing a tsukubai, a little granite bowl traditionally used to rinse your hands before partaking of the tea ceremony. Eventually, we had all made our choices and arranged delivery, paid and rather dizzily drifted back onto the street.

However, the owner then kindly invited us back to his home for tea. Well, he had made rather an incredible profit that day – one lady alone had bought four huge lanterns. We were more than happy to accept, although some people made their own way back to the station rather than be sociable.

What an experience! This was my first sight of a 'real' Japanese home, both inside and out, all paper walls, tatami matting on the floors and a sunken fire pit called a hibachi. Hanging over the fire was a large iron kettle attached to a magnificent hook carved in the design of a fish. The lady of the house welcomed us with open arms and directed us to cushions placed around the hibachi. Kindly, she advised that she didn't mind if we didn't kneel as she understood it was hard for gaijin to do this! She served us delicious green tea and biscuits while her husband told us that the stone masonry is his 'side job'... his real job is moving Japanese houses. Yes, this is actually what he does - he moves the ENTIRE house, with all the contents in situ, including, (as he said) the fish in their tank. He somehow does it by piling the whole house onto pallets and moving it inch by inch. Not sure on the actual technique but apparently he is one of the last people in Japan who can do this.

They also kindly allowed us to look around their home. The windows had sliding shutters designed to present a perfectly framed view of the carefully manicured garden dependent on the time of year. Each ornament was striking in its beauty and strategically placed. Little alcoves displaying scrolls and special treasures adorned the immaculate rooms. It was an interior designer's heaven, yet normal life for these lovely people.

Sadly we didn't have much time there as we had to catch a train back to make it back to Tokyo in time to collect our children from school. And unfortunately, I hadn't thought to take my real camera with me, so these are taken with my phone and not great quality. Incidentally, those are reflections across his highly polished and gorgeous table, not smears on the lens.

Note to self - ALWAYS carry a real camera!

  

A Homes and Gardens Interlude

Before I start back on the "rack-my-brains-for-memories-and-guess-the-date-in-the-diary" posts, I thought I'd show you my little garden.

When requesting a home here, we really didn't want to live in an apartment, mainly due to having the cats (now singular, after sadly losing Inti shortly after our arrival). I'd lived in flat for far too many years when in London and really wanted my own front door and direct access to the outside world without going downstairs.

We didn't want to live on the Embassy compound as I felt that Tim would never be free from work. By living away, people would think twice before calling on his services. Also, as I work from home, I need my solitude. Actually, I LIKE solitude and this house fits the bill perfectly.

I also love gardening, and had dreams of cultivating a green space to indulge in. Failing that, I thought I might try my hand at creating a Zen garden. Somewhere to sit in the sun.

Anyway, we struck gold when this house unexpectedly came up for rent: the previous occupants had left earlier than expected, and the landlord was so keen to keep British people in it that he lowered the rent to within our limits.

Our house in England would fit into the front room; the space here is amazing and puts paid to all the belief about miniature homes here in Tokyo. I don't deny they exist as I've seen them, but there are a surprising number of enormous houses and apartments to be found too.

I cannot stand the decor though: beige, taupe and green. Not much I can do about that, just going to cover it all up with bookshelves, pictures and the like.

We are also conveniently situated up a little cul-de-sac, so Rhiannon is free to practise riding her bicycle outside without fear of traffic accidents. Within a few weeks of us arriving, she'd mastered riding without stabilisers! Shame the same cannot be said about her mother...

About two blocks away is a very busy main road, so I was very wary about letting the cat out. However, I took the nervous plunge and let him go out through our French doors. Most pet cats here never go outside, but it would be cruel to make Raymi become in indoor cat after enjoying his first couple of years exploring the outside world.

The garden is tiny, but backs onto our landlord's garden which is huge and beautifully laid out. Beyond that is a deep gully, which I think was an original water or irrigation way some centuries ago. After that, is Shinjuku-gyoen garden.

So, as long as Raymi goes that way, he's safe from traffic. [Two years on, he's proved he has no interest in going further than the first block of houses, so you don't need to worry about some horrible event coming up while I catch up with this blog! Hope I haven't jinxed this subject now!!] He stayed close to home for the first few ventures outside, and I trained him to come in by rattling a box of treats, then rewarding him for coming when called. I've also trained him to sit before having a treat.

As I said, the garden is minute, but contains 3 trees: one evergreen something, one deciduous dogwood and a ratty little conifer. An old, rusty windchime has embedded into one of the tree branches and the chime fell off when Rhiannon touched it.

There are also two plastic troughs containing a wisteria and an unidentified plant that has small white flowers. The wisteria has never flowered. Bulbs also push their way through the mass of roots in the troughs, but add little to the aesthetics of the garden. I will leave them though.

Sharp, coarse gravel covers the "walking" area and a few smooth pebbles cover the miniscule "garden" which is delineated by larger pebbles. I made the garden area a little bigger by moving the big pebbles.

Also we discovered an extremely rusty barbecue, a wooden box to keep tools in - I found a small green trowel - and some discarded potplants. One was an orchid so I brought that inside and managed to coax a flower from it before it died.

Mum is a fervent gardener, so tried to get me to buy a heap of plants when she visited, but we couldn't find a garden centre. Besides, I wanted to see if anything came up in the spring first. I did have a go at digging, to see what the soil was like. It is an incredible rich black loam, which I assume is either silt or ancient volcanic in origin. However, it's full of roots from the trees and not been dug before. When you dig down far enough, you reach solid clay. I wish I knew more about geology!

So, there is the photo of the garden as we found it. Pretty bleak really.

But, it's early days [pretending I'm at two years ago again...]

The only things I have planted so far are some clumps of "cat grass" - something readily available and much enjoyed by Raymi, although I have to feed it to him as he hasn't grasped the idea of munching it himself. Daft animal.

I have plans, I just don't know what they are yet! But I have bought some books on Japanese Gardens, so perhaps a Zen garden will be on the cards.

To be continued...

“Stimulated Patients”

Monday 5^th February 2007

Back to the Nihon Medical School today for the full-on English lessons for the young doctors. It's a long trek to the other side of Tokyo for what turned out to be really hard and intensive work. All for payment by a train ticket! Still, it's all a good life experience.

Again, minor hysteria and many giggles amongst us "teachers"; not helped by me sitting next to a fabulous girl from the Czech Republic with a wicked sense of humour who had me in stitches all day. Unintended pun!

This is the very first time this exercise has been attempted so everyone, heads of sections, teachers and students, were going through a steep learning curve. The med students looked frankly terrified and we all had to rotate, change desks after each "interview" spending just 10 minutes with each student. This included running the session then reporting on their progress to the entire class of about a hundred people. Rather humiliating for the students, I felt.

Most of them had very little English, so this was quite a trial. I can see the reasoning behind it: more gaijin are in Japan than ever before, and therefore many turn up in hospital where without an interpreter, life would be very difficult for both patient and doctor.

We are performing as "simulated patients", pretending to present a specific range of symptoms for the doctors to identify, diagnose and suggest treatment. It was too tempting to go into dramatic overdrive and pretend to suffer suitably, rather than read from our script. One of the leaders kept saying "stimulated" instead of "simulated", which did nothing to quell our hysterical giggles.

After a few reports, the head doctor had to step in and tell us precisely how the Japanese had to be reported on. It's normal here to NOT praise out of hand. Negative criticism is expected; they don't quite understand outright commendation and it embarrasses them - allegedly. My students looked very pleased to be congratulated. It must have been extremely difficult for them to conduct an entire day in an alien language that they probably hadn't spoken since having a few lessons at school. Not to mention using English medical terminology.

However, as they are trying to encourage the learning of English and move into a more international environment they told us to insert the negative between two positives. And example: "You welcomed me very nicely and kept up good eye contact. However, I felt very distracted by your constant hand gestures. If you can control this, I believe you may make a good doctor".

In Britain, this is known as a "shit sandwich".

At one point, a very long discussion broke out with the entire class with the masters as to whether it was correct to mention a woman's weight during a medical appointment. The Americans felt this was a huge insult to the woman while the Europeans couldn't really see the problem. The Japanese looked horrified that it was even an issue!

At the end of the day, I was exhilarated with being part of something so different and hopefully effective to the future of Japanese medicine.

Work continues

Monday and Tuesday, 29^th – 30^th January 2007

All day training on both these days (don't forget the school run at each end – how do people do this full time? Amazed respect to them).

Two classes per day.
Nice day on Monday – PowerPoint, not so nice day on Tuesday – Advanced Excel, my 2^nd least favourite subject!

On Monday, all goes well until lunchtime when Tim takes me to a tiny Japanese restaurant for lunch. Fabulously basic place, with the option to sit or kneel on the floor. We take the tiny section containing chairs and place our order.

Then wait for our meal. And wait. And wait some more...

The time arrives for my afternoon course to start when the meal arrives!

Cue urgent phone calls to the office for a minor postponement and a plea to Tim to do the school run, thankfully granted. This really isn't turning out too well, is it? What must they think of my professionalism?

Fantastic food though, shame about the service.

On Tuesday, having learned my lesson, I bring in sandwiches!

Absolutely shattered, very little voice left so I'm pleased I have a couple of days grace until the next course on Friday morning. I won't bother blogging any more about this for fear of boring you all to tears.

Suffice it to say, I survived, and for a second time, pledged NEVER AGAIN!

On an up-note, one of the "handymen" I trained was so pleased with me helping him out that he asked how he could repay me.

At this point, I'd decided to try and sparkle up my tiny garden a little so asked if he could find me some plants to put in it while he was doing his gardening work.

I was just joking, thinking this would be a particularly out-of-order request, but if you don't ask...!

Never Say Never!

25^th January 2007

Today I have to go to work.

(Silent screaming!)

I will have to stand in a classroom teaching people how to use their PCs and Microsoft for the first time in exactly six years.

And still do the school run at each end of the day.

Today's course (Basic Excel) was normally taught over a full day, but this time I have to squeeze it into three and a half hours.

It's hard to put into words how I feel about all this, – when I gave up working all those years ago due to a difficult pregnancy, I was well past my burn-out date for this type of work. As a freelancer, I used to alternate a few months training with a few months as helpdesk and support work. This helped keep me sane.

However, the final couple of years of my IT freelancing career were all of these jobs lumped together in one glorious and adventurous mission. I kept at it, although I was "close to the edge", is as it allowed me to travel all over the world, from Moscow to the Solomon Islands (but I'll save all those stories for another blog!).

So, when I finally had to resign due to health reasons, and to become a full-time mum, I swore I would NEVER go back to that work again. Ten years of IT training was enough for me.

Never say "never"...

So, words to explain how I feel... dread, frustration, anxious, irritation, horrified, yet surprisingly calm as I do know my stuff, and slightly exhilarated.

Interesting selection of students, from high-powered bosses to the "hired help" who are, frankly terrified. I separate them to alleviate their terror from being up close to the Big Boss and in doing so, have made a friend for life!

By the end of the day I am absolutely exhausted with sore feet and a sore throat from talking and 'projecting' my voice. Out of practise!

The course went well and it was actually hard to spread it over the time allowed. I've always managed to keep the course time down because I don't waste time telling the students what they don't need to know for their job. However, I used to be on a daily rate of pay, now I'm on an hourly rate, so I need to keep my hours UP!

However, all the angst with this particular job came hurtling back once I realised I'd been given the wrong information as usual. So I ended up having to have lots of meetings with various people to find out precisely what was expected and had to cancel tomorrow's course.

The upside is that I get to go out to lunch with Tim, which is lovely and something we haven't done for years.

Small world though: in January 2001, Tim and I were working in Vienna and met a rather memorable couple. I'd bumped into a guy here a couple of times who looked vaguely familiar, then spotted his wife's name on the phone list and had a lightbulb moment - it was the same couple!

Anyway, this night I stayed up until midnight rewriting all the courses for next week to incorporate what the students actually know rather than what they think they know... a big difference. I think I may have bitten off more than I can chew – it's going to be a tough week.

Think of the money... it's the only thing keeping me going!

<<< I Love This!

I really do love this little widget here on the left of the screen! The one that shows where all my readers are coming from. Isn't it fascinating?

It's fabulous to see all the different countries listed, and wonderful that this blog is being read by people all over the world. I'm learning a lot of geography, discovering different countries and their corresponding flags.

Thank you for visiting! I'm very flattered and hope you are reading and enjoying my ramblings.

I would really appreciate it if some of you could add some comments so that I don't lose heart by feeling I'm just wittering away to myself! I'd love to hear from you.

I'm finding it quite hard to catch up with myself, and am rather cross for leaving my blogging so late. I've been here over two years so far, another two to go (maximum) and have only managed to blog a fraction of that time so far.

However, I WILL catch up, I WILL finish and get "up-to-date" as soon as I feasibly can.

Once we leave Japan, hopefully we will end up in another fascinating country and I can start all over again!

Thank you once again for visiting Japanory. Mwah! XXX

Bus Bliss

Oh, what a difference finding the bus has made to my life!

We can leave for school almost an hour later, meaning a lot less shouting (from Mum) and a lot less resistance (from Rhiannon). It's a new experience for Rhiannon who hasn't had the pleasure of riding a bus before, and we can see more of the surrounding areas.

The bus route seems to finish just around the corner of Shibuya station and then there is a little walk to school, but nothing compared to taking the Metro.

The scenery en-route is fascinating. Just up the road from us is a small area of greenery – trees, shrubs and some large rocks. Very pretty. Interspersed amongst the trees are a number of blue tarpaulins fashioned into tents and lean-tos. It's a small and seemingly permanent area for homeless people. What a very appealing place to set up 'home'.

Then we travel through Harajuku, the centre of fashionable Tokyo along with an incredibly busy station. And home to an enormous multi-storey shop called 'Snoopy Town'. What do you think it sells? Yup: everything to do with Snoopy and his friends! After this the bus negotiates the unbelievably hectic crossings around Shibuya, including the famous Hachiko crossing. This takes some time but it's still way better than taking the train as I get to people-watch to my heart's content.

On one bus journey, we spot a mum with her daughter who is wearing the BST school uniform, so we pop over to say "Hello". The mum is Japanese and married to a Greek man, while the girl is in the year above Rhiannon. We have a lovely chat and then the mum asks me why I get off the bus so early? It appears that, if I had a little more knowledge and more patience, the bus doesn't terminate at the stop where we normally disembark. After waiting there for 5 or 10 minutes, it then moves up the road to stop literally just across the road from school. Bliss!

Returning home is even simpler. After dropping Rhiannon off at school, I can nip back across the road and within a few minutes catch the bus home. I still have to watch very carefully where to get off and press the little button to ring the stopping bell, otherwise I end up some distance away and have to retrace my steps by about half a kilometre.

The reverse school run works just as well, with enough time for Rhiannon to get a little play in the small playground near school before catching the bus home, arriving more than an hour earlier than before. Happy child = happy mum.

I've bought myself an MP3 player – something I've never been too keen on as I prefer not to have things stuck in my ears. But have since discovered the joy of tuning out. However, after finding myself singing aloud to some Leftfield track (oops!), I decided to download some Japanese lessons instead. Might as well use my extra time for good intentions. I've learned how to say "hello" for the different times of day, finally mastered "thank you"... and that's about it so far.

After a few drinks, I agree to do something different...

Monday 22^nd January 2007

This is something new. It appears that I've offered to help some student doctors learn English! It's amazing what one will agree to after a few drinks!!

One of the other wives I've met through Tim's work is a GP and has contacts around Tokyo. She's persuaded a few of us who are at a loose end to help out in a brand new training session in some teaching hospital on the other side of Tokyo.

Today is the "train the trainers" induction. And even better, we'll get paid for it!

So, after a blissful school run on the bus J we met up at a Metro station and headed off on quite a long journey to this hospital. Once at our destination Metro station, we proceeded, as is normal, to get completely lost. It seems most people get lost in Tokyo on a daily basis so everyone is incredibly helpful. However, if the person we've asked directions of doesn't know the way, they won't actually say they don't know – saving face? Or just wanting to help? I don't know; instead they confidently give directions to somewhere else, anywhere! I guess they hope we will find someone more clued up. An interesting yet frustrating characteristic.

Eventually after much walking and luck, we find the hospital; a huge, imposing and unprepossessing building with many pale and exhausted-looking young people in white coats bustling around. Just like hospitals in the UK, really. I think I was expecting something extremely modern, state-of-the-art and high-tech. This it most certainly wasn't.

There was a vending machine, of course, so I grabbed a tin of coffee and swigged it down. I quite like the vending machine coffee as it's hot and sweet. The taste isn't really coffee, but it will do the job.

We found out where to go and squeezed into a very small and rickety lift along with a few other gaijin who were all there for the same session. One of them carried rather a lot of extra weight... and the lift started complaining! The maximum weight it could carry was exceeded and it was not going to move until this was sorted. Unembarrassed, the large gentleman got out and the lift worked again.

Next, a trail of bemused gaijin wandered down a low-ceilinged corridor and found a huge room set up with a number of desks and a speaker's podium at the front.

There were about 70 gaijin of all ages, nationalities, skills and reasons for being there. Most were after the promised money, some were there for the experience and others were there as favours to friends. A couple of back-packing types barely had any English themselves, this didn't bode well for the poor students. Feeling a little nervous we got a bit giggly and silly, but soon behaved ourselves when the "teachers" came in.

Names were taken, paperwork handed out, instruction leaflets and scripts to read from. How to work with the students, some of whom had barely any English at all, apparently, and pep-talks from a number of high ranking doctors.

Then the bombshell – we WEREN'T going to get paid for this! Oh, the uproar that caused! Misinformation, change of mind, who knows; but there was a lot of unrest and complaining so a gopher was dispatched to find out what had happened.

Meanwhile, we broke for coffee.

On our return, the powers-that-be had come up with a compromise – we wouldn't get cash, but we would get a railcard to the same value – about £25 per day's attendance for the actual training to commence next week.

Not particularly happy about this, but as I do use the Metro it will be useful.

In Praise of Buses!

Rhiannon and I are at the end of our tether with this awful school run. Going in isn't too bad. Well, it is, but at least Rhiannon is fresh at the start of the day and there aren't too many people around at that time. But the 'going-home-run' is atrocious.

One traumatic afternoon (for both of us), Rhiannon tantrummed for nearly the entire journey – a whole hour straight. She's never done this before, ever. Along with the whole change of country, culture shock, the new school, (which is more pressured than the exceedingly gentle schooling she'd experienced in the UK) it's hardly surprising the poor child is so shattered.

We have an incredibly frazzled mum and daughter at the end of each day. There's no 'happy family' for Tim to return home to at the end of his work day. He can't work out what the problem is – I am very tempted to suggest he does the school run a couple of days and see how he copes! Not well, would be my guess.

But! An end to the nightmarish school run could finally be in sight.

My gorgeous friend, Teri, has told me in great detail about the buses. I hadn't even thought of using a bus, doh! She has even gone to the trouble of obtaining a bus route map and worked out how I can get to school on the bus, which bus to catch, and even how to how to pay when getting on board.

Not only that, she told me there was a bus stop just across the road from my house! I cannot believe I hadn't noticed it and went to investigate. Sure enough, there it is! But I can't read the timetable as it's all in Japanese. I make a guess and plan a trial run. Unfortunately, there are only 2 or 3 buses every hour but it looks like the one we need is just right for getting to school on time. And the timetable appears to be fairly straightforward as long as I remember which column means weekdays and which refers to the weekend.

This could be the miracle cure to the endless waste of time that I'm spending on the school run. It's taking a minimum of four hours out of my day.

So, at the weekend, we go on adventure and take the bus to Shibuya. What a revolution!! The number 81 bus picks us up. It only costs 200 yen for any length of journey, and Rhiannon travels free of charge due to her age - she doesn't start paying until she's 6 years old. The seats have no leg room for tall gaijin, but that's not a problem for Rhiannon, of course! Then at Shibuya, we hop off and work out where to go from there. It's as easy as pie and will only be a few hundred yards walk to school, instead of a couple of miles.

What a breakthrough! I'm so happy!!

IT Training Work Looming

Friday, 19^th January 2007

Today I had another meeting to find out precisely what sort of computer training they want me to do at the Embassy. I've been given a scary list. Well, it's scary only because a lot of it is entitled "Advanced" and I haven't done anything "Advanced" since I stopped IT Training in 2001.

However, on speaking to some of the potential students on an informal basis (in the bar...) it appears this requirement has been greatly exaggerated. Thank goodness!

Long ago, when PCs and Microsoft were first introduced into the Embassies worldwide, intensive training was provided for all staff on all the products they were to use. I was lucky enough to be taken on to help with this and got to travel the world, go to exotic locations and meet interesting people. All in the line of work of, course. Ah, those were the days!

Of course, staff members move on and move in, so quite a few people never received the initial training and, unless they already had the computer skills, were expected to just pick it up as they worked. As most of us know, this isn't the best way to learn for many people.

So, rather than pay a fortune to bring someone all the way over from the UK to run classes, I will do it instead. Luckily, my speciality is tailoring courses to suit the trainees so I found out what they knew and set myself the task of creating bespoke courses in all the Microsoft Office programs.

The first course is scheduled for next Thursday, 25^th January. Yikes! I have a lot of work to do before then. I am nervous, cross and excited all at the same time...

Costco and Toilet Paper

Now, why would an enormous globally present supermarket warrant a blog post of its own?
Because it was a trip away from home and because I’ve never been to one. Ever!

My lovely friend Teri, was kind enough to offer to drive me to Costco so I could to stock up on essentials such as toilet roll and Western food. Toilet roll is very thin here, and is only sold in packets of two. We have three toilets in our house so it runs out rapidly. Half a roll equals the same, erm... absorbency as a few sheets of Andrex.

OK, too much information there! On with the trip...

After we’d dropped our children off at school, I got into Teri’s car for an interesting drive. Teri is from Costa Rica and drives like a true Latino. Which means that when she found herself in the wrong lane, she thought nothing of driving over the zebra crossing in order to get into the correct lane. Numerous times she stopped to jab the GPS as it was giving conflicting information – allegedly. I must admit to closing my eyes a couple of times, but we reached Costco intact.

Then she said, “Of course, Costco only take American Express or cash, do you have AmEx?”
Uhhh, NO! And I don’t have much cash either!! Oh dear. It looks like I won’t be bulk buying after all.

Costco was as large as an aircraft hanger and spanned two floors. What an experience! Huge trays of meat, sacks of fruit and veg and a staggering number of, mostly American, foodstuffs. Crates of wine and many other enticing articles were out of my reach having no means of paying for them.

Luckily, all the items were labelled in English as well as Japanese but I nearly made a terrible mistake. Boxes of sugar were displayed alongside other white granules. I grabbed what I thought was granulated sugar, then, as an afterthought, read the label... it was Monosodium Glutamate! Eeeew!!

But I did stock up on cat food and cat litter, plus some lovely bread and a few other bits and pieces.

And I bought a giant pack of toilet paper.

Odaiba

Sunday, 14^th January 2007

Tim has an idea for a day trip today so we jump at the chance to see somewhere new.

We are off to a place called Odaiba, which is somewhere “over a river and by the sea”. Excellent! A Real Trip!

This involves countless trains, culminating in a trip on a wonderfully modern, unmanned monorail which speeds us over the roofs of Tokyo on an elevated track. We managed to get the front seats so Rhiannon pretends, as all kids do, to drive the train. We get many amused looks from the other passengers. Although this might have to do with the fact that Tim was also pretending to drive the train...

Flying over Tokyo Bay to our destination I enjoy the fabulous views of some incredible futuristic architecture.

Odaiba is a large artificial island located in Tokyo Bay. Some of the spectacular sights here include the graceful Rainbow Bridge, one of the world’s largest Ferris wheels and the amazing space-age Fuji TV building. The latter takes my breath away with its other-worldly design. Apparently the ball at the top weighs an incredible 1,200 tons and measures 32 metres across. Goodness knows how they got it all the way up there!

Once there, we explore the area finding a massive shopping mall with a large restaurant hall which we earmark for lunch.

Outside, I snap away taking photos of all the wonderful buildings and views over the Bay. Then we realise we can actually get down to the sea so we make our way through the clipped trees and giant anchors placed artfully in the ground. On the way, we are amazed to see a Statue of Liberty!

Even though it is January and pretty cold, Rhiannon goes paddling in the sea chasing the small fish darting in the shallows. I didn’t expect this of Tokyo, that’s for sure! Not only can we (fairly) easily get to the sea, it’s not polluted or mucky in anyway, and there is even life in it! Ducks and cormorants bob around, doing their thing, while spaceship-like ferries carry passengers to unknown destinations.

For lunch we drag Rhiannon away from the giant beefburger and down to the restaurant hall we noticed earlier. While I ordered a steaming bowl of Japanese noodles and soup, Tim and Rhiannon let the side down and order McDonalds.

We will return to this place, it looks like there is a lot to discover here.

 

 

A Playdate

January 13^th 2007

Today is the day for our first ever playdate in Japan. We are due there at 10am.

I woke up at 11am. Oops!

In my defence... OK, no defence, I was hung-over after a late night at the bar yesterday.

So, an apologetic phone call to the mum, who was tangibly unimpressed, and the quickest dressing-and-heading-out-of-the-house-run on record. Rhiannon and I make our weary way to the station for a two-change Metro trip to Roppongi. Once out of the station we immediately become hopelessly lost in a shopping mall of labyrinthine proportions and properties.

At one point we had to venture up an escalator with a height nearing that of Fuji itself. We distracted ourselves from our slight acrophobia by admiring a colossal advertising hoarding portraying David Beckham with a cut face. This brought a lot of questions from Rhiannon who still hasn’t grasped the concept of advertising. “Who is he? How did he cut his face? Why hasn’t someone given him a plaster?” and “He is rather cute, isn’t he Mummy?” Erm, not my taste, but he’s better than thinking of how high this escalator is!

Another phone call, and the mum, whom I shall call Maria, talked us through the miles of bland corridors and funky sculptures and water features to the correct exit.

Thankfully, we found the apartment without much difficulty, but I’ll never make it through Roppongi Hills alone! What a complicated piece of planning, especially for someone like me who gets lost just crossing a road.

Now, usually with playdates, us mum’s tend to take to opportunity to drop the child off and beat a hasty retreat to go and indulge in some child-free time. Not this time though. I was fully expected to stay and chat with Maria. OK, I’ve not actually planned anything so I settled down in the hope of making a new friend.

Maria is a large American woman married to a slight Japanese man. Apparently gaijin woman + Japanese man is quite a rare pairing, but I haven’t worked out why. Her husband appeared bearing a tray of tea and disappeared back into the kitchen, where he stayed for the entire time I was there. Apart from his regular and soundless visits to refill the endless cups of tea, I saw nothing more of him. Was he a servant? Or didn’t he like to socialise? It was rather odd.

Their apartment was beautifully decorated and crammed with some incredible Japanese antiques such as rare tansu, (cabinets), screens and scrolls. I imagined this was like a Real Japanese Home.

Rhiannon went off to play with the two girls and Maria proceeded to educate me.

Now, this is quite hard to write in retrospect as things have since changed between us, but at this particular time, I was very open to learning all I could about Japan and its beautiful culture and objets d’art.

So, I learned a lot and we organised a trip for the two of us to visit Kappabashi – AKA Kitchen Town - a wonderful sounding place where shops selling ceramics, plastic food and all kinds of fascinating kitchen stuff.

Lunchtime approached and the husband brought us both a small meal on neat trays while he served the children a different lunch in the kitchen.

From time to time, a minor argument would erupt between the kids, and one or other of them would traipse in with “Muuuu-uum, so-and-so did this...” My reaction to these common upsets was normally to listen and encourage Rhiannon to “deal with it”, but Maria had a very different approach which was somehow belittling to me and Rhiannon. She would set the children down and proceed to give a psychobabble lecture which always seemed to make me out to be a bad mother or, worse, to insinuate that Rhiannon was badly behaved.

It was all very subtly done however, and it wasn’t until later in our acquaintance that this became a problem. At the time, I just put it down to a culture difference, her being a much more capable mother than myself and perhaps a little showing-off to a newbie. I was also feeling very guilty about being so late for the date and the obvious disapproval she projected about my being hungover!

After many hours, I could take no more tea and information, so we left and went home.

Taking Control of my Days

 

12^th January 2007

Today I made some life-progress!

I committed to two new things, both of which I have never done before.

To start, I went to a coffee morning at the school. Held in the large, sunny school library, it was completely packed with mums. Coffee and real English tea was available so I made sure I indulged freely in the tea. The librarian, a wonderful Swedish man, provided a feast of delicious home-made cakes which didn’t last long.

Feeling very much like the new girl at school (which actually, I was) I drifted around trying, and completely failing, to get included in conversations.  So I people-watched for a while; a mix of nationalities, including Japanese, is represented at the school but the people attending the coffee morning were all gaijin. Most had expensively highlighted hair, loud voices and enormous glittering diamond rings. I feel very different and most definitely a bystander. I wonder if this is a Mummy Mafia that has been much written about in the British press.

I discovered that someone was handing out booklets so I asked for a copy. It’s entitled “Tokyo ABC – A Parent’s Guide to Life, Living and Getting Out of the car Parks!” which bodes well for some useful and amusing content.

After an indeterminate length of time (three cups of tea) I decided to leave. There were far too many people there, all ostentatiously greeting and gossiping with old friends and not particularly interested in talking to newbies, apart from the typically female 'once-over' - the slow, top-to-toe sweeping look that is designed to make one feel inferior. Never works with me, just makes me laugh!

So, clutching my new book, I headed off to find something else to do.

I found a Starbucks, and grasped at the familiar to rediscover my equilibrium – and find a toilet after all those cuppas!

Settling down to have a flick through this interesting and useful book, the first page I looked at declared “don’t stay at home alone” and “find something to do”.

OK, let’s do that.                               

Many of the people that had taken the time to talk to me (not from the school) had mentioned a church that ran cultural courses as part of their Women’s Group. Now, I do not ‘do’ church, but seeing the list of classes they ran I decided to go and see what was open to me. I knew the name of the church so I hailed a cab only to discover that it was located just up the road! Luckily the cabbies here are very honest and he told me – in sign language and Japanese – where it was, rather than letting me get in and taking me on a scenic, money-making drive as they would in many other countries.

I always have a slight reservation in entering churches, fearing I’ll be struck down for my disbelief – which is a ridiculous statement if you analyse it. Venturing in I met Rose, the lovely receptionist, who handed me a brochure and I sat down to peruse the class list.

Between the school run times and finances, I narrowed my wish list down and booked in to learn Ikebana. I didn’t realise there was more than one school of this floral arrangement discipline, and two of the three were in the afternoons, making it tricky to get back to school in time to collect Rhiannon. So I chose the one that was running on Monday mornings – Sogetsu Ikebana. I also put my name down for a one day lesson on Japanese Gardens and another to do some enamelling. How refined of me!

Feeling very pleased with myself, I headed home so I would have time for a short rest before heading out for the much dreaded two-hour school run.

 

 

 

Ups and Downs of the School Run

On the way to school I noticed one of the large film screens around Shibuya station showing videos of one of my favourite bands – the Red Hot Chili Peppers. As I gazed at the screen a date flashed up and I realised with elation that they were coming to perform in Tokyo! I've been trying to see this band for nigh on 20 years but have always been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Could it be possible that I finally get to see them? Oh, I LOVE my new home!

Now all I needed to do was find out how to speak Japanese and get some tickets. I decided to pass the task onto Tim who could ask his colleagues for help. I care not that he isn't a massive fan like me; we will go and see them if at all possible, and that is that.

I collect Rhiannon and we head home.

The school run is already dragging us down and Rhiannon is so tired at the end of the day that the walk to the station in Shibuya is a real chore. She insists on walking on all the building edges, up steps, down steps, around bollards and generally being a pain as all the time she insists on holding my hand which drags me around too. Then she complains about being tired and having achey legs. I'm not surprised; with all the to-ing and fro-ing she is walking ten times as far as she needs to.

She is also obsessed with all the vending machines and we have to stop at each one, of which there are many, to inspect the contents and hassle me for a drink. I counter this with a promise of something from the one nearest home as it is considered rude to drink and eat on the Metro. And so it continues as a whinging child and I enter the overcrowded Metro.

We are both completely frazzled by the time we get home, two hours after I left. There must be an easier way of doing the school run, but sadly I don't know what. Some people catch cabs, but this is an expensive option and besides, I tried this once and couldn't convey to the taxi driver where I wanted to go. But it is very tempting. Perhaps I should try and find a map.

Being Grumpy

It's amazing how cross and disgruntled this little job is making me! I haven't even got into the training room yet and I am already very grumpy about the work next week. It's only a few days over the next month so why am I getting so worked up about it?

Mainly I think it's because I spent an extremely intensive period doing the same line of work, for similar people, so I know what to expect. And also because I know that this will be very different as in my previous incarnation of 'IT Trainer', I never had to see the trainees again: this time Tim will be working with the people and we will both see them over the next four years. So I have to be nice to them...

One ray of light is, by some miracle, I found all my old training materials on an old portion of my hard drive so all I have to do is adapt them for these special courses. I am overjoyed as I thought all this work was on my old laptop which no longer functions as anything other than a large doorstop.

This took a weight off my mind so I started writing my first Tokyo Tales article instead.

I'd just got my creative flow going when an American woman who befriended me at the school door phoned for a chat. She's rather pushy but I'll give anyone a chance (and she is the only one who's spoken to me at school so far) so I arrange a playdate for our kids at the weekend. Somehow she stayed on the phone for over an hour even though I tried to get away.

My creative flow was completely washed away now, so I turned to another project.

Tim had mentioned someone at work who knew the owner of one of the English language papers and I should send in my CV. As my CV is so far out of date it's almost in a different century, this required some careful contemplation.

I got as far as changing my name and address when the computer crashed and wouldn't restart. Great. Just great.

OK. Now what?

Oh, time for the school run! It takes around two hours each way so this doesn't leave me much time during the day. Especially when an hour is wasted on the telephone.

“I’ve Got You a Job!”

10^th January 2007

These were Tim's opening words to me when he arrived home from work last night.

Yikes! I don't want a job. I already have a job and I certainly don't want to work in the same place as Tim. Not because I don't want to work with him as I've already done that in the past. What fills me with horror though is the idea of working for other people having been self-employed for more years than I was employed.

I'm speechless. But not for long as Tim explains the details further. It turns out that the office were about to contact London to send someone out to provide IT training to a few members of staff when Tim leapt in with "Oh, no need to call them, that's what Carole does!"

DID, not DOES!!

I gave up this work in 2001 when I was pregnant with Rhiannon and I had absolutely no intention of ever getting into it again. Admittedly it was extremely profitable and was a job I once loved, but towards the end of what had been many years running the same courses again and again, I was burnt out and unable to continue. I swore to myself I would never, ever do that work again. Never say never.

My blood ran cold and I started to protest. But Tim was so excited I had to hear him out. From the information he gave me, there was almost no way I could get out of this and agreed to see the people involved.

So into the office I went, with a heavy heart and tried to pretend I was all efficient and organised.

They were ecstatic at finding someone over here that was qualified to do this work. Everything was in place already, including the special systems knowledge I already had from my previous contract with them all those years ago.

In an effort to finally wriggle out of the work I quoted a very high price for my time.

They accepted and I was obligated.

Panic!

Because I had declared my intention never to do this job again, I had thrown out all my text books, notes and exercises in the UK just before moving here. I will have to rewrite everything in less than a week.

DOUBLE PANIC!! And a lot of swearing...

 

First Day of School

9th January 2007

Finally! I thought this day would never come, but here we are, getting ready for Rhiannon's first day at her new school.

Considering that she left her school in the UK nearly two months ago, and really enjoyed staying at home with Mum, she's surprisingly upbeat about going. Considering that Mum has had nearly two months of daughter NOT being at school, she's incredibly upbeat about the first day of term.

The uniform arrived in good time, having been ordered from the official school outlet in America (!) and we had to purchase a small backpack, lunchbox, snack-box and water bottle the previous weekend.

However, our five-year-old fashion-diva was most unimpressed with the uniform and declared it to be "baby's clothes". She has a point.

In the UK, primary schools mostly have "grown-up" uniforms for the girls of smart dresses. Here the first two years, Reception and Year 1, wear t-shirts and tracksuit bottoms, with a logo-embroidered sweatshirt which is almost impossible for a child to take off themselves. I suppose this is in line with other countries where "school" doesn't really start until the children are in their 7th year, and everything up to then is considered kindergarten.

I don't know. I just have to force my reluctant child into the unflattering and dull navy blue outfit in time for the daunting school run.

And then we're off. Hoofing up the road to the Metro for what we already know is an appalling and long trip to the school. I just hope I can remember the way!

Luckily, I do, but once at the school I don't remember the route to Rhiannon's new classroom and it takes a couple of wrong turnings before we finally find the correct room. And that is a long walk too.

We say our goodbyes, but then Rhiannon "had a moment " and became nervous, clingy and upset before being led away "to help get some pens out" by the wonderful, compassionate and capable teaching assistant, Miss Irene.

With great relief, yet feeling a little raw emotionally, I pushed my way through the crowds of mums greeting each other after the holidays, and finally found myself outside the school with nearly 6 hours all to myself.

What to do? For the first time in weeks I only have to please myself: I don't have to take anyone else's wants, needs or feelings into account and can do precisely what I want for a few hours.

Rather than trek home, I decide to explore the area today and see if I can finally get a grip on the location of the school in relation to the rest of the area. I've spent too long being lost around here and I need to remedy that. So I started with breakfast at Starbucks in Tower Records which was the only place open at 9am.

To my surprise, I soon discovered that nothing in Tokyo (apart from Starbucks) opens before 11am. OK, a few shops open at 10am, but mostly it is 11 or even midday! Well, that's going to solve one shopaholic's problem. I won't be able to go shopping just after dropping Rhiannon off at school and, as the shops compensate by staying open late in the evenings, I won't be able to shop then either as I will be Mum again. My wallet will thank me.

Somehow, I found my way to Tokyo Hands again and was gratified to find that at least this shop was open from 10am, so spent a good proportion of the day in there.

The hours went very quickly and I was soon back at the school ready for pick-up time and the long walk and ride home. Rhiannon had had a great day and, although tired, was happy to go back again, thank goodness!

A Very Expensive Lunch and Singing to the Fish...

We left the Palace as quickly as possible as we were all in desperate need of toilets!

Eventually we found them at an area decorated with several water sculptures and glorified fountains, which didn’t help our predicament while queueing for the loos. After answering the call of nature we played amongst them for a while and pondered what to do next.

It was lunchtime and we needed food. Tim mentioned a nice hotel he’d stayed in on a previous visit, so we headed there.

The New Otani was certainly spectacular, but we were unfortunately too late for lunch at most of the restaurants, of which there were many. After some lengthy searching over several floors, we discovered a Chinese restaurant that was prepared to serve us and we gratefully settled down. Mum has not eaten Chinese food for years after developing an allergy to monosodium glutamate, so we were a little apprehensive, and she just chose soup.

Rhiannon surprised us immensely by being extremely proficient at using chopsticks. She’s never held them before, but she was determined not to let that beat her and persevered with great success. We were amazed and proud of her tenacity.

The resultant bill was beyond astronomical and we made a note to eat there again only on extremely special occasions. I was already planning on choosing this hotel for our first wedding anniversary celebration!

After lunch we went into the extensive and beautiful gardens. Mum and I were delighted to see lots of lovely ladies dressed in stunningly gorgeous kimono daintily stepping over the rocks that traversed the ponds.

An enormous red jasper stone stood in splendour on one side of the garden. I adore stones, so   communed with this lovely old rock for a while. Then I spotted the most bizarre bonsai or miniature garden I have ever seen. It was an upended log studded with large toadstools. Amazing!

Mum was flagging a bit by now, so we didn't explore the whole garden and resolved to visit again at Easter when she returns.

Once again, Rhiannon insisted on singing to the Koi. I have no idea where this idea of hers came from, but it is very sweet. We have to keep our distance while she performs, but my camera has a zoom lens! Of course, the fish all gather around her expecting food: but she believes it is her “magic singing” bringing them to her.

 

To See the Emperor...

Chronological crisis again... let's go back to...

2nd January 2007

Stuck for something to do, we decided to join the crowds and visit the Emperor in his Palace!

The Imperial family here don’t meet the masses as our British Royal family do, but the masses are graciously permitted to go and see them in their Palace on two occasions each year: on the current Emperor’s birthday, 23rd December and also 2nd January, which is when we decided to venture there.

We caught the train and basically followed the multitudes along a long road bordering a rather strange field full of enormous bonsai trees. The trees were rigorously pruned into gloriously stylised shapes, just as traditional bonsai trees are, with one exception; these trees were a couple of metres high and laid out like an orchard.

Along the red-cone-lined route were gentlemen handing out Japanese flags and we were given one each. We thought we may be treated with suspicion being gaijin, but the atmosphere was incredibly friendly and happy.

Across the moat which is lined with huge, grey stones and through a magnificent set of doors.

We weren’t allowed to stop and take photos, as I discovered when I tried to snap a particularly beautiful view. I was gently, yet firmly moved along by the palace police. I still got the photo though! But it seemed to be OK to take photos as long as we kept moving.

There were set times for the Imperial family to appear at the window and we arrived with about 20 minutes to wait; which was lucky! The crowds seemed to be well controlled as the area in front of the palace didn’t get overfull and there was no disagreeable pushing and shoving.

I was rather disappointed with the lack of grandness the palace displayed. It appeared to be just two storeys high and surrounded by windows. But I later discovered that it had been rebuilt after being destroyed in World War 2 and was built to be earthquake-proof.

Over the loudspeakers came various speeches which, of course, were undecipherable to us. However, one particular speech seemed different to/from the rest. Spoken by a women with a soothing mellifluous voice the speech had the sound of a prayer. This feeling was emphasised by most of the crowd lowering their heads. It was the most relaxing and comforting sound I‘ve ever heard, and would love to know the words.

A sense of expectation was palpable.

From time to time the smartly attired palace guards would change position, which caused a ripple of anticipation throughout the crowd. 

Then, they appeared! At the window, Japan’s Imperial Family appeared at their window amidst happy cheers and much flag waving.

They waved and smiled for a while; the Emperor said a few words and then they all went back inside.

And that was it!

A Testing Day...

4^th January 2007

 

Mum’s flying back to the UK today and we are due to go to the Driving Test Centre to get our Japanese driving licenses sorted out.

 

Two cars are coming to collect us, one to take Mum to Narita Airport and one to take me, Tim and Rhiannon to the test centre. Both cars are due at the same time, 8 o’clock in the morning.  With our lack of language skills, the potential for a comedic outcome is very high. Can you imagine the confusion? What if Mum gets in the wrong car and ends up at the license centre?!

Luckily, it all worked out just fine with the car taking Mum to the airport arriving first. Of course, it was sad waving goodbye to her but she’ll be back again in just a few months for Easter. She’s a great traveller, my Mum, and spends her year travelling to remote areas on botanical trips, hunting rare flowers and then committing them to paper: she’s a recognised and successful botanical artist. Not bad for a lady in her seventies!

 

 

So, on to our adventure at the Japanese driving centre...

 

This was something Tim sprung on me at the last minute so I had no idea what to expect. Mind you, neither did he, so we were both entering the arena blind. The plan was that our driver, loaned by Tim’s work, was to accompany us in to help with translations and other necessary guidance.

 

With plenty of books and colouring-in paraphernalia to keep Rhiannon occupied, we nervously set off. Personally, I was more nervous of how Rhiannon was going to react to a lot of waiting, which was the only thing we’d been warned about. However, she was remarkably good, which made a change!

 

We arrived at the centre at about 8.30am and discovered there was absolutely nowhere for our driver to park. So we ended up sending him back and entered the unknown realm alone and apprehensive. Not only that, but we would have to find our way back again on public transport which was a daunting prospect – but that was after the first trial – getting through the licensing procedures unaccompanied.

 

The building reminded me of a school; cavernous, painted an institutional beige with rooms, corridors and doors everywhere. Various young people wandered around like lost souls so we joined them in our search for the correct place to start.  

 

With great relief we found the route to the “Foreigners” area was signposted in English. Our first port of call was a small window half hidden in a corner where we handed over various items of paperwork to a stern woman to deal with. And then sat and waited. And waited some more. This was the main theme of the morning.

 

Suddenly another couple of gaijin arrived from a different direction. They’d already been through this process so I pounced and grilled the poor people on what happens next. I do like to be prepared, and thankfully they were extremely helpful and explained what precisely would happen amidst the waiting.

They told us that we would have to take a sight test and explained what this involved, which was very useful.

 

Being British, we wouldn’t have to take the practical driving test, thank goodness! This is reserved for those foreigners who drive on the right: Japan drives on the left (hooray!), so makes it so much easier for us Brits to convert our license.

 

Our names were called and we were directed to another department on a different floor in order to pay our fees, then return to the same window again. After some more waiting, we were sent for our sight test.

 

A large room in yet another part of the building was the setting for this. Our spirits sank at the sight of a long queue of people snaked along the corridor, but the process was remarkably quick.

 

We reached an inspector with a grim and bored expression on his face. He was sat in front of a large grey machine. I went first and sign language was the order of the day. Translation:

Inspector: “Do you wear glasses or contact lenses?”

Me: “Yes”

Inspector: “Read this” and thrust a laminated A4 sheet at me which showed how to do the eye test. I was given very little time to read it before he snatched it away again, but luckily I can speed read so understood what was expected of me.

 

There were several circles with segments missing and I had to show which side of the circle the gap was. (See the picture for a visual explanation). There was also to be a colour test; primary colours to be identified. Easy!

 

The sight test commenced with me looking through binoculars attached to the grey machine. A screen lit up with a circle on the top right. I had to wave my arms to show which position the missing segment was on. The circles bounced around the screen getting progressively smaller and smaller. Fun! The colour test was a breeze as the inspector had obviously learnt the English for red, blue and yellow. Again, coloured lights were flashed up on the screen and I just had to state the colour.

 

I passed!

 

Then it was Tim’s turn... Hah! He didn’t read the document fast enough and went a bit Basil Fawlty, raising his voice a little too much. Besides, I think it was time for the inspector’s break as he was getting a little fed up by now so there seemed to be some misunderstandings along the way.

 

Translation:

Inspector: probably thinking, “oh no, not another gaijin” “Do you wear glasses or contact lenses?”

Tim: “HUH?”

Inspector: “DO YOU WEAR GLASSES OR CONTACT LENSES?”

Tim: “YES!”

Inspector: “HUH? DO. YOU. WEAR. GLASSES. OR. CONTACT. LENSES???”                    

Tim: “YES, I. WEAR. CONTACT. LENS” pointing to one of his eyes (he wears lenses in both eyes, by the way).

Inspector: rolling his eyes now, handed Tim an eyepiece to cover the one eye he’d pointed to... obviously thinking Tim wore just one contact lens! So Tim had to do the sight test with one eye.

 

The colour test was even funnier. For some reason best known to himself Tim thought the colours were traffic light colours, so instead of saying “blue” he kept saying “green”! By this time the inspector was visibly annoyed and possibly about to fail him, so between my giggles I whispered to Tim, “It’s blue, you twit!”...

 

Eventually, he passed too.

 

Time for a break... so we went for a can of vending machine coffee and a cigarette to recover before the next bout.

 

Now we had to get a photograph taken as the ones we’d brought with us were unsuitable for some reason. So off we went to yet another room for our pictures to be taken, and then to another place so we could stamp them out to the right size. And back to “our window” once more for some more waiting.

 

Oh, at some point we also had to watch a video about safe driving, but as we couldn’t understand a word of it, we took the opportunity to have some more coffee and a snack.

 

Finally, at 12.30pm we were finished and left the building clutching our brand new Japanese driving licenses. What an interesting morning!

 

Finding our way home was a little tricky as we had only vague directions in Japanese to get to the train station, but obviously we made it.

 

I wonder if and when we will get a car? It will make life so much easier.

New Year's Eve 2006

Since becoming parents, we hadn't really bothered with the whole New Year thing in the UK and usually just watched a bit of TV then went to bed. Both of us had done plenty of partying in the past, so didn't miss it at all. Personally, I find New Year's Eve a rather emotional event for some reason, and nowadays just treat it as a normal evening.

But, for our first New Year's Eve in Japan we thought we really ought to do something special.

However, we weren't entirely sure precisely what to do, bearing in mind we had a 5 year old child to include, as well as my Mum...

At the time, we had no idea on the significance and tradition of this special day in Japan so were only basing our expectations on the UK celebrations.

Our options seemed to be one of two things: either visit a shrine along with several thousand Tokyoites or spend the evening at the work bar, where a special evening had been planned for the first time as a number of new people had just arrived.

Tim and I spent a couple of days researching our options: I talked to the young blue-haired lad in the conbeni - corner shop - who proved to be an asset as he spoke a little English and was eager to chat whenever I popped in for milk. Tim spoke to his colleagues at work.

While some couples were off to see what happened at a shrine, my conbeni friend said an emphatic "no" to this when I mentioned it to him. I think because he'd seen Rhiannon and was worried she'd be crushed by the crowds. Further questioning discovered that all the shrine-goers throw coins a long distance, so, in the position of caring parents, we decided to take his advice and not go. This left the work 'do', so that is where we ended up.

What a strange evening that was!

A few people, none of whom knew each other, sat in a soulless bar clutching drinks tried to make small-talk above the sound of some random music, while an overtired, but excited 5 year old ran around trying unsuccessfully to find something to do.

Accutely aware of being in a bar with my Mother for the first time, I was unable to relax as I felt I should keep an eye on her. Apart from the weirdness the actual fact engendered, New Year's Eve has always been a very poignant time as something had happened the New Year's Eve shortly before Dad died - it seems he'd had a premonition that it was to be his last New Year on earth and photos of the event show a scared man looking at the camera. Very painful.

So, we edgily sipped champagne, watched the clock until it said midnight, kissed each other and headed off home, expecting to see and hear fireworks and crowds of people.

But nothing! No fireworks, no people, no singing or shouting, no drunken louts lying in gutters or staggering along the street, no pools of vomit everywhere, nothing!

The whole journey home was a quiet as the grave, not a soul to be seen. This was my first sense of culture shock, it was just so incredibly different, yet pleasantly so.

Yoyogi - Park and People

31st December 2006

The year's end! What a lot of changes 2006 has brought to our family; we look back with pleasure and forward with excitement.

We choose today to visit one of the largest parks in Tokyo, Yoyogi Koen, not realising that Sunday is THE best day to visit as it's the day everyone comes out to show themselves off. A wealth of fascinating sights greeted us the moment we arrived at Harajuku.

The area around Harajuku Station is swarming with wonderful specimens of high fashion - Japanese style. These young ladies and gentlemen dress to kill in all manner of (to us Westerners) very odd outfits. It appears they are there purely to pose and have their photos taken by random passing folk. Some cameras on display appeared to be press-quality so perhaps some of the pictures will appear in some magazines or books. Who knows?

We saw so many interesting people, with such hard-to-define styles that I couldn't resist photographing a few of them. Some I recognised as the famous Harajuku Lolitas and Gothic Lolitas. Others were harder to label, such as one chap with a silver bandage across his face: but all were beautiful and colourful. Another hopeful young man held up a sign offering "Free Hugs", although I didn't see anyone take up this kind suggestion. Girls dressed as Alice in Wonderland or Little Bo Peep were everywhere mixed with slinky Goths and various characters I've since discovered are known as Cos-Play.

Rhiannon was keen to get away from the bustling crowds so she could try out her new roller blades, so we didn't stop very long in that area.

However, we were distracted by another of the famous Yoyogi sights: the Elvis people! On the walkwayto Yoyogi Park a cordoned off area was utilised by a number of people dressed in 1950's garb and rockin' and rollin' to their hearts content. The guys were dressed in leather, winkle-picker boots and greased black hair with gravity-defying quiffs, while the few girls in attendance had full poodle-skirts and ponytails. While in the UK, this "show" would be put on as a method of asking for money, here it appears to be done purely for pleasure, and it was a pleasure to watch too. A number of souped up and highly decorated vans lined the road, so I can assume these people arrived in suitable style, accompanied by their high-quality, loud sound-systems.

Finally we made it into the park itself, but the sights and sounds didn't diminish at all. Everywhere we looked we saw something unusual going on, from small groups of people practising dance moves to individuals juggling, people going through martial arts moves and others playing instruments. They show no self-consciousness at all, incredible.

The hypnotic beat of bongos floated through the air. Drawn by the haunting sound, I followed my ears and tracked down a gang of people 'losing themselves in the rhythm' with attending dancing girl. Being a great fan of this type of music, I could have stayed for hours, but family were urging me on once again.

A couple of grimy oblong ponds held little interest but in the distance we spotted a dancing fountain in the middle of a larger, more natural looking lake, so we heading in that direction grabbing some vending machine drinks on the way. We sat for a while watching the changing projection of the water spout while Rhiannon wobbled precariously on her new skates.

Then we saw a man walking around balancing a glass ball on his head. As you do! 

We decided we'd seen it all now and headed back to the Metro.

As it was New Year's Eve, the most important holiday for the Japanese, numerous stalls had been set up along the roadsides selling all manner of foods, most of which were, as usual, totally unrecognisable. Rhiannon followed her sweet-attuned nose to a stall selling chocolate covered bananas on sticks. How could we refuse? They tasted gorgeous and were far more appetising that some of the octopus kebabs we noticed.

Foot-sore and mind-boggled, we went home to ponder what to do for our New Year's Evening.

Day Trip to Kamakura - part 3

Next stop was the Hase Kannon Temple, covering a large area with little gardens and many different shrines to various kami, or gods. We climbed up the steep steps to the top of the hill where the main buildings were located.

On the way up, we spotted thousands of tiny statues dressed in little cloaks or clothes and surround by childrens' toys. These are symbols of of the deity Jizo, the guardian of children and commemorate stillborn children. A very moving sight indeed.

Once at the top, we found a terrace with a fantastic view over Kamakura and a welcome cafe selling coffee and snacks. We also were amazed to see lots of black birds of prey swooping overhead. Of course, none of us had binoculars and, although the birds were close, we couldn't identify them.

The temple buildings are magnificent, with ornately decorated rooves and many ornamental carvings. 

Back down the hill again and an exploration of the lower levels. Rhiannon has a 'thing' about Koi, and sits next to the water singing to them! This has to be done without anyone watching, so we maintain a discreet distance while she entertains the fish, who seem to rather enjoy the attention. Or perhaps they were hoping for food as they all came up to her and gathered in a mass of orange and white at her feet.

We also found a cave-temple, indicated by the special red torii gate. According to the English guide leaflet, this. along with a wooden building outside, was a temple to the goddess of feminine beauty and wealth, Benten. Of course, I felt the need to go and pay my respects so in we all went.

The cave was hewn surprisingly deep into the cliff and the one-way route through was dotted with small candlelit alcoves enclosing various sculptures. After a while, the ceiling got lower and lower and I suddenly realised Mum was not looking too good. Almost too late, I remembered she was claustrophobic when in caves (about the only thing that she is scared of!) and swiftly ushered her out into the air again. I felt very guilty for encouraging her in there, but she recovered quickly. I hope we were in there long enough for the 'feminine beauty and wealth' influence to work.

We were pretty much done with temples and shrines by now, so decided to wander back through the town and see what goodies the shops held: a great cure for the little panic we'd just had.

Kamakura is famous for a special brand of lacquerware, which is painted a dull red. It isn't to my taste really; I prefer the shiny black lacquer.

However, we did find a little souvenir shop that was crammed full of all kinds of items, large and small. Mum fell in love with a large, kimono-attired doll carrying a branch of wisteria over her shoulder. The wisteria was a gentle buff colour, and the kimono a dazzling red and gold. Expressing her interest to the shop-keeper prompted a loud shout out to someone in the back of the shop. The shop-keeper's husband appeared and an animated conversation between them ensued, then the husband scuttled off out the door.

We were extremely puzzled, not having any idea what was going on and with mum only wanting the doll off the shelf. However, all soon became clear as the husband returned after 10 minutes with a new doll in a box. This doll was similar, but the wisteria was a virulent purple, rather than the faded beige on the shelf-dweller. It clashed terribly with the kimono and Mum insisted on the original. The owners couldn't believe it, and kept insisting that she take the new one. At least, that's what we think was being said. Naturally, the customer is always right and Mum was amazed that they insisted on reducing the price by about a third. A great deal, and a lovely souvenir that now graces prime position in Mum's home.

Tired, yet happy with our real day out, we headed home to digest all the sights we'd seen. My favourite of which was seen on the way back to the station... a small, extremely noisy motorbike that appeared to be homemade. It was very square, looked most uncomfortable and was painted bright orange.

It was also emblazoned with the name "The Nutcracker"! It looked to be an accurate name.

Day Trip to Kamakura - part 2

Wandering up tiny streets lined with atmospheric wooden buildings and many little shops, we came across some little rail tracks leading up the road. Instantly my mind went back countless years to my childhood visits to Weymouth, the hometown of my Dad's side of the family, and the old tramlines criss-crossing the area.

Almost immediately, we heard a noise and quickly jumped out the way as a little tram, or narrow-guage train trundled by pulling two or three quaint wooden carriages. Wish we'd caught that instead of making our ill-conceived long walk.

We followed its route and soon found ourselves at the first of the many temples situated here. Kamakura is home to 65 Buddhist temples and 19 Shinto shrines... far too many to visit in one day, but the one we stumbled across was probably the most famous in the area.

Kotokuin Temple is the home to the second largest statue of Buddha in Japan. Standing, or rather sitting, at 13.35 metres high, this bronze statue meditates in beautiful surroundings, flanked by iron lotus flowers. Nearby, a gigantic pair of straw sandals hung on a wall; in case he decides to take a walk, perhaps? He was cast in the 13th century and used to live in a enormous wooden building until a tsunami swept through Kamakura and flattened the entire area just over a hundred years later. Buddha remained where he sat and has stayed gazing out to sea ever since.

After looking around the temple we discovered we could actually go inside the statue for the minimal cost of just 20 yen. Up some stairs Rhiannon really enjoyed this and joyfully repeated the excerise a number of times. "His tummy is warm inside" she stated, as an explanation for her fascination. Warmed by the sun, the bronze gave off a comforting heat.

Stalls selling charms and amulets lined the grounds and some of the 'wishes' were translated into English as Kamakura is a tourist area. We were intrigued to see the labels: "please grant my exam success", "a charm to protect when driving" and most bewildering, "please make my leg grow stronger"! I think most people buy these to hang from their mobile phones. Many a time I have seen fashionable young people haul a mobile out of their bag that is absolutely dripping with hundreds of charms. They must make the phones very heavy.

Day Trip to Kamakura - part 1

Boxing Day dawned bright, crisp and sunny, encouraging us to decide to make a 'proper' day trip somewhere.

We decide to venture to Kamakura, a small town about 50km south of Tokyo with a long history and many ancient temples. Situated on the coast of the Pacific Ocean, Kamakura was once the capital of Japan during the eponymous Kamakura era, from 1185 to 1333.

We set off to the Metro, our route all planned from our guidebooks. Catch the Metro to Shibuya, find the correct platform for an overground train to another station, change lines somewhere a long way outside of Tokyo, then a final train to Kamakura. Quite daunting really, especially with the lack of English language signs at the stations.

But amazingly, we made it without a hitch! We felt very proud of ourselves as we stepped out of the station at Kamakura, ready for a day exploring old streets and numerous Buddhist temples.

Pacific Ocean! What does that conjure up for you? For me, it brings to mind images of warm, blue seas and exotic palms lining soft, white sandy beaches.

Now picture the complete opposite. Firstly, the weather in Kamakura was cold. Very cold. And windy. Secondly, we couldn't see the sea anywhere. Or anything much else either. There was a long, wide road outside the station bordered by pretty much nothing! We looked around for a tourist office, map or anything that would tell us which way to go, but found nothing. Using the old adage that downhill was the way to go to find the sea, we set off in that direction, huddling into our coats and wishing we'd worn hats, scarves and gloves.

After walking for about half an hour, we all started to get rather fed up: we still hadn't seen anything worth travelling all that way for; no signs to give us any indication of where these famous sites were, no shops or restaurants where we could stop to trya and ask directions, and still no sign of the sea! We'd also gone a little too far to turn back and try the other exit from the station - which, in retrospect, is where the initial problem started - we'd exited on the wrong side.

So we continued plodding down the road, cold and grumpy, when suddenly we scented the sea and felt sand being blasted into our faces with the strong gusts of wind. Finally, the sea was seen. Not the blue, calm waters I envisioned, but angry, grey, squally and with many 'white horses' showing their manes in the surf.

Now what? There were still no signposts to be seen anywhere and we hadn't come all this way just to be exfoliated by the extremely bracing sea air. Just in time to prevent a mutiny, we spotted a restaurant and made our way inside. I use the term 'restaurant' loosely here as it was more of a 'diner' with formica tables and uncomfortable chairs. But it was inside, warm and promised some kind of food and respite from the elements.

A waitress brought over the menus and thankfully for us, we discovered something common in eateries here that is very useful to us non-Japanese readers / speakers; all the dishes are pictured. So, although we have no idea what they contain, we can get an idea of the item from the photo and just point to our choices. We ordered hot drinks and food and recovered from the cold while debating what to do next.

Fortunately, the cafe had windows all around so we could get a rough idea of the lay of the land and made the decision to head "that way". Thankfully, it proved the correct direction and we shortly ended up in the actual town of Kamakura, rather than its unprepossessing suburbs.

IT'S CHRIIIISTMAASSSSSS!!!

Our first Christmas in Tokyo started early, as can be expected with an over-excited 5 year old.

But not with the happy sounds one would normally hear. Rhiannon marched into our room at 5.30am, crying her eyes out!.

Between her sobbing she cried "Santa hasn't been to see me and I have been good, mostly". 

Bless her, she was so bleary that she'd stepped right over her stocking without noticing it. So I took her back to her room to "see if Santa had hidden it" (rather amazed I was on the ball at that time in the morning...)

Cue one very happy child!

After breakfast, the doorbell rang. We'd forgotten that it was a normal working day here, and the postman was delivering. Along with a number of Christmas cards, he brought a large and heavy parcel from Tim.

How wonderful! He'd got me a breadmaker!! Now, this isn't normally something I would get happy about receiving for Christmas, and ordinarily would contribute to considering divorce proceedings. But bread here tastes horrible and costs around £3 for half a dozen slices, so it was a welcome gift.

This was a well-travelled breadmaker apparently. It was ordered from the States as the electricity here is only 100V rather than the 240V in the UK (which is why I hadn't shipped mine from there). American electrical goods work here, whereas UK machines need a huge, clumsy transformer. But I digress: the breadmaker had travelled to Jamaica (a computer operator error, I guess, as Jamaica is just above Japan on the standard list of countries), then back to Kentucky and then up the coast to Alaska where it got stuck in a snowstorm. But fortuitously arrived on Christmas Day.

Lunch was a success. Apart from the lack of Christmas pudding and the fact that the mysterious "cakes" I'd brought were completely disgusting! I think they were made from rice and contained red-bean paste. An acquired taste, that none of us will acquire any time soon.

Standard after-lunch constitutional around the gardens again, then for more exploring up the little alleyways surrounding our house. We discovered a tiny shrine not far away, which is very picturesque.

What a lovely day, wonderful gifts, lovely family and no miserable British weather. In the evening, once Rhiannon had finally been packed off to bed, we were able to relax with a good film and no boring BBC TV repeats.

Heaven!

Backtracking a little...

This is the drawback of not keeping a diary! I've forgotten to include details of our luggage arriving a couple of days before Mum reached Tokyo... so...

Finally! Our main shipment of luggage has been released from customs and a large red lorry arrived one fine morning. Something to keep us occupied at last.

With extreme efficiency and skill, the driver somehow reversed the lorry up our tiny road and a gang of men managed to unload what seemed to be hundreds of boxes in record time.

Even though they offered to unpack everything, I preferred to do this myself. So they just put the boxes in the relevant rooms and left me to get on with it. I set Rhiannon to task to unpack her million soft toys while I hurried through the remaining boxes to find the Christmas gifts while I had the chance to hide them.

Much joy was experienced when I discovered our box of necessities like tea and biscuits. As I mentioned previously, it's amazing how something so mundane becomes exciting.

I didn't disctract myself for too long in this box, but it was a little like Christmas already. However, most of the time I thought to myself "why on earth did we think it was important to bring this?"

This is something that commonly occurs when you've lived without the 'normal' home-comforts for a while. You become used to living a minimalist life, so when suddenly all sorts of extra items arrive, however familar and missed they are, you feel overwhelmed with possessions. 

Priorities change, but it's all here now and we can't send it back.

Rhiannon is completely over the moon with her re-discovery of much missed toys, so I guess that makes it all worthwhile.

Christmas Eve 2006

In the evening, I joyfully announced to my friends online in the UK that I’d be having Christmas before them and then settled down to wrapping presents. Not as easy a job as expected as Japan does not seem to have wrapping paper of any kind, let alone any of the size we’re used to. And certainly not any Christmas paper. We forgot the Japanese don’t celebrate Christmas.

Rhiannon has received her letter from Santa, complete with reindeer food and a special key so that he can find his way in without a chimney! We have used this fabulous place every year so far, and cannot fault them in any way www.specialletters.com. The wonderful people here (especially Sharon) work so hard to make each year’s letter very special and personal. It’s wonderful to be able to keep the magic alive in this way – I wonder how long Rhiannon will continue to believe?

So, Christmas Eve is over, food has finally been found for tomorrow, wine is chilling in the fridge, Mum is doing sudokus, Tim is grumpy - all is normal!

Rhiannon has put the special reindeer food out on the doorstep (apparently it glows once she’s asleep, so guiding Rudolph and friends to the correct house) along with a can of beer and a snack for Santa! She’s trotted happily off to bed with her stocking.

Due to her light sleeping habits (grrr!) she has to leave her stocking outside her room, which does make it easier to fill, but has drawbacks if (or more usually, when) she gets up during the night. If the stocking is filled too early, none of us will get any sleep at all. So we have to drop it off in the early hours of the morning, just in case...

18th December 2006 or thereabouts...

Grumpiness...

Oh, I can’t wait for school to start! Rhiannon is becoming stir crazy and driving me up the wall. She doesn’t like walking anywhere (can't say I blame her there, to be honest!); she doesn’t want to do this or that, just stay in playing PC games, watching TV or worse, playing Barbies’! Of course, with Mum here, I am obliged to show her the sights, and, with Tim at work, this means my whinging daughter has to come too. Counting the days to the start of the school term in January...

In emails to friends, my words were “She is being a right royal pain in the ass”, so, even though I cannot remember exactly what she was doing, she was obviously being rather annoying.

I can’t even escape to the PC in the evenings as Tim’s on there all night while I entertain Mum until she finally goes to bed at midnight. Whatever happened to her jetlag?

Still, Mum’s been wonderful – her stamina is as incredible as usual and I end up totally exhausted after traipsing around showing her the few places we've  discovered so far. We went to Tokyo Hands a couple of times, where Mum was in her element with all the craft stuff. I also bought a few more Christmas decorations to show willing: I'm a bit "Bah, Humbug!" about Christmas.

And she kindly bought me a whole load of houseplants so I'm finally beginning to feel that this house is home now. Getting them back was interesting on the Metro and we had to have one large tree delivered. I’m still not entirely sure how I managed to do that with no Japanese language skills at all. But sure enough, it arrived later that day - how wonderful!

At this point I still had no idea what we are going to have for Christmas dinner! None of us fancied the epic trek to Nissin, and the local supermarket doesn’t stock any meat larger than a chicken leg.

Then, a revelation! On one of our exploratory trips around Shibuya, we discovered that the department stores have food halls in their basements! Usually running over 2 floors, with one floor housing a supermarket while the other has all kinds of unusual and tasty looking ready meals.

The supermarket we found was like Harrods Food Hall on steroids. It had the most amazing items on sale and we managed to find, of all things, Marmite!

Meat is still extremely expensive but we did find a nice big chicken, so that’s what we will be having for Christmas Day. It was the only recognisable and affordable thing. Half a kilo of stewing steak was £20... so I'd better make sure I make THE most fabulous stew! Luckily we don't like turkey, anyway.

We spent more time gazing at the unusual foods on display than actual shopping. Some of the fish was incredible and the veggies totally mindblowing in their unusualness. And as for the mushrooms... well, they look like the things Mum always said not to eat in her garden because they're poisonous.

A giant fish-head gazing up at us through its dead eyes made us jump. I guess it was a tuna but the size just blew me away – easily the size of two human adult heads. There was also a slice of fish that cost approximately £500 for something the size of a lamb chop. Again, I have no idea what it was, but the price was seriously impressive.

Also incredible were the number and size of “gift fruit” – melons the size of footballs selling for £100. Apples twice the size of the ones we’re used to in Britain for £10 each and luscious peaches of similar proportions and prices. Each were lovingly wrapped and presented.

We bought the “ordinary” ones.

Sadly we were unable to find a Christmas Pudding, so we will forgo that tradition this year, and instead buy a typically Japanese Christmas Cake instead. A beautiful (yet very un-Christmassy) confection of cream, sponge and strawberries.

We've also got blue crisps (!) and something completely unknown as an experiment. I don't know whether it's sweet or savoury so that should be fun. They are little pink cakey looking items, tastefully decorated.

I feel slightly more relaxed now that I know what we are going to eat for our first Christmas dinner in Japan.

An International Supermarket!

It's amazing how something so mundane can become exciting and adventurous!

Some friends took us to an international supermarket called Nissin where we are assured we will be able to get all kinds of necessary groceries. Hooray!!

However, this involved numerous and complex changes on the Metro and a lot of walking. Not very practical.

The first floor is a general supermarket, and the top floor is just full to the brim with alcohol: I have never seen so many bottles of booze in one place - not even at the parties I used to attend in my 'youth'!

We managed to buy some recognisable items, including some small joints of meat and cereals, so we are now set for the next week or so. I have to pretend to mum that we eat properly, of course!

But the struggle to carry all the shopping bags home was totally exhausting, so I can't see us doing that very often. We literally walked miles.