The Challenges of Cooking and Eating in Japan

By Molly Lauer (Benno works too much, so I'm lapping him here again in our posts :)

Reasons why our diet has been so different this summer while in Japan:

1. A typical Japanese diet (miso soup and rice for breakfast, instant meals grabbed from 7-11 during a lunch break from work, and rice, seafood, and root vegetables for dinner) looks very different than my American diet. 
2. Many of my staple foods are very expensive ($4/6 slices of lunch meat, $2/apple, $1.50/loaf of bread – only 6 slices though!, $2/quart of milk or juice) and we’re trying to practice living on a limited budget so I substitute with cheaper foods (carrots, yogurt, rice, and water).  I have gone so far as to trade my famous glass of milk with dinner for water!  Now that is sacrifice! :)
3. Benno is internship is at a Japanese snack food company, Bourbon Confectionaries (no, unfortunately, this does NOT mean all their candies are filled with alcohol).  Hence we have an unending supply of free snacks in our pantry at any given time:  sardine-infused trail mix, green tea flavored cookies, vinegar flavored juices, chips, and candies—much to the dismay of our intensions to begin to eat more healthily.
4. I cannot read the labels on things in the store and so have yet to find Dijon mustard, pork, or almonds (ended up putting lots of sliced garlic instead on our salads by mistake one day, thinking I’d bought sliced almonds – oops!).
5. When I do buy something that I’ve properly identified, or just bought anyway because it looks interesting, I cannot read the directions for cooking on the back.  I’ve learned the symbol for “minute” though and so usually just dump it in our skillet for that long and hope it works ok! :)
6. Cheese is nowhere to be found.  Ok, not totally true; I did eventually find it at the specialty food store and paid $10 for about 6oz because I was desperately craving a grilled cheese sandwich!  They simple don’t eat it nearly as much as we do.
7. The oven we have in our apartment (a feature of the microwave) is broken.  This means no baking or broiling of any kind:  no casseroles, baked meats, cookies or brownies (REALLY missing these as I can’t find anything like them!), etc.
8. We only have 1 stove top so cooking dinner is often an amusing juggling act.  One night it looked something like this:  sauté chicken in pan and set aside; steam broccoli and set aside; cook pasta while simultaneously microwaving sauce; reheat chicken and broccoli in the microwave and then FINALLY mix it all for chicken and broccoli fettuccini alfredo! Phew!  And still the broccoli was only luke warm! 
9. Our fridge is the size of a typical dorm fridge so we can only keep 1 container of juice, 1 type of fruit, and 1 leftover in it at any given time.

So I’m trying to adjust to the ways of this culture and our circumstances and therefore trying to eat more Japanese.  This means I’ve let rice be the basis of many of our meals, tried many new foods, and learned to cook as many local foods as possible.  So far, I have learned to cook:

1. Kimpira Goba and Carrots – Julienned (I had to look it up too!) and sautéed burdock roots and carrots, soaked in soy sauce and sake.
2. Curry with vegetables – True, it’s Indian cuisine, but the Japanese (and Benno!) LOVE it!
3. Simmered Kabocha (pumpkin) – their’s is different than ours though, smaller with a green peel and very tender and sweet.  It reminds me of sweet potatoes and I love it (and Benno tolerates it). 
4. Soba noodles – they’re like a thin, tender, very soft pasta noodle almost.  I just tried a soba salad with a soy sauce, vinegar, sugar, and sesame seed marinated with diced peppers, mangos, and peanuts – delicious!  Next time you invite me to a summer pot-luck, you’re sure to see this! :)
5. Stirfry – a staple dinner of ours.  A base of rice with sautéed vegetables of any kind – onions, peppers, carrots, eggplant, squash, burdock root, bean sprouts, corn, you name it, if we have it, it gets dumped in!
6. Makeshift coffee - milk tea (a sweet, traditional drink here) infused with a packet of instant coffee.  

Many of my attempts at American meals have also been flops.  Tacos are not nearly as good without taco seasoning, taco sauce, or cheese.  And I have not yet figured out how to make pancakes, as silly as that sounds.  The result was very rubber, bland disaster.  Sorry Benno and Aaron!

So it’s true I’m not yet NEARLY as good a cook of my wonderful new family (Chloe’, Cathleen, and Jonathan are all VERY good cooks) or my sister, Becky, but it’s been fun to experiment and practice some.  I’ll tell you though, it’ll be nice to go to a grocery store, be able to find what I need, afford it, read the directions on the package, and cook it without first determining sequencing priorities!  My dear, green breakfast smoothies, cheese, and brownies, watch out!, because I'm coming back to devour you soon! :)

 Our most-frequented stir-fry dinners

 Salmon on Asparagus with a Sweet Corn and Tomato Relish - yum!

Hiking Mt. Fuji

By Molly Lauer

So it wasn’t until about a week ago that I learned that normal people like ourselves can climb Mt. Fuji.  I had assumed only the real hikers, those with expensive frame backpacks, spiked shoes, and hiking poles, could do so.  So originally I was just planning a quiet get-away weekend for us:  we’d head to the Hakone region at the base of Mt. Fuji, stay over in a ryokan (a traditional Japanese inn of sorts; think bed and breakfast), enjoy an onsen (hot springs mineral bath), take a gondola ride up a mountain, and maybe walk around a lake and enjoy the spectacular beauty of Mt. Fuji and the surrounding mountains.  In my research though, I found that Mt. Fuji is regularly climbed by lots of people with little climbing experience – even children and grandparents do it! It was said to be a long and strenuous hike, averaging 8-12 hours of hiking time for most people, but doable for those with motivation and endurance. Inspired, I began to search more and found that it was just the beginning of the hiking season there (you can really only hike it in July and August, as that’s the only time it’s not snow capped!).  I quickly became inspired to change our relaxing mountainous weekend get-away to a monumental hike of Mt. Fuji…and then still rest for a day or two at the base.  Benno and I discussed this seriously for quite a while - I have spent all summer relaxing during the day while Benno’s been working long hours at his internship.  By Fridays, I’m all ready to get-up and explore while he could use a moment to rest!  So we knew such an undertaking would be a serious disruption to our schedules.  However, Benno had off on Monday for the Japanese “Beach Day” so we had a little extra time to play with and thought it might just be possible.  We decided we’d try the traditional overnight summit:  we’d meet after his work day on Friday at the bus station, grab dinner, take the 2 hr bus ride to the popular Kawaguchiko 5^th station departure point, briefly acclimate ourselves to the high elevation, and then start our ascent at 10:30pm.  The goal is often to reach the summit by sunrise (scheduled for 4:40am on this July 14^th) and my research told me this climb often takes 5-8 hours.  We had our own goals though:  1)make it to the top, 2)try to leave ourselves time and energy with which to enjoy it, and 3)survive! 

We got almost everything suggested – lots of water and sports drinks, high-calorie foods, first aid supplies, flashlights (how else do you climb during the night?!), rain jackets, and both warm- and cold-weather clothing, as it was predicted to be a humid 30degrees Celsius (86F) at the base and 7C (45F) at the top.  Our packs were heavy and I was worried that they may bother me more than my legs!   But I wanted to be safe and prepared, not struck by typhoon and miserable as our friend was he climbed it ;).  I was also worried about our bodies:  our knees, since both of us have weak ones, acclimating to the low-oxygen environment of the high altitudes, sun poisoning from extra exposure to UV rays, and blisters (particularly for Benno, who was wearing new sneakers as he hadn’t packed any good hiking ones!).  I was worried about our spirits:  getting along for 12hours of a difficult hike, exhaustion, differing goals, conversation topics that wouldn’t bore us.  But other than that I was giddy with excitement and ready to go! J

And so we began!  We started at one of the four 5^th stations, knowing the summit was at the 10^th station and there were other huts for sleeping and getting food and drink (and really high costs!) along the way.  It was totally dark.  We had flashlights to guide us but could really only see about five feet in front of us.  Though there was someone else maybe 50feet in front of us, and another maybe 50 feet behind us, it was eerily quiet and still, close to alone on that big mountain.  We were already very high up and could see quite a ways.  The towns below us twinkled below us and we tried to guess the boundaries of the five lakes we knew were there by the lights’ edge.  The path was about 5 feet wide, but the mountain slope gentle enough I didn’t feel as if we were at a cliff’s edge (thank goodness! I HATE steep heights!)  It was incredibly peaceful and still and we enjoyed the quiet solitude of our conversation. 

We hiked pretty easily for about an hour through the woods and reached with the 6^th station.  We cheered and gave each other high-fives for how great our progress was going, welcoming the greeting of the attendant stationed there.  He warned us not to be too excited, we had a long ways to go yet.  But we were really enjoying ourselves – this was going to be great!

And suddenly the path turned.  Instead of going across the mountain as we had been, it suddenly veered upward.  We saw a long series of steps ahead.  Oh.  Perhaps this is what he meant.  We treaded ahead.  The path got rockier and rockier as we went. Very quickly we were above the treeline and there was nothing from us to the top by dusty lava rocks, red and brittle.  The path also got steeper and steeper.  We complained about the stairs at first – feeling like we were tourists climbing to the top of some monument, only thinking we might have to do this all night!  But then the stairs turned to a gravely path, which Benno swears pushed us backwards with every step forward we took.  We missed the stairs.  It was about 11:45pm and we had a long ways to go yet! 

Hours later, it was still the same.  Steep stairs.  Slippery gravel.  Sore quads, aching with a burn of having done a stairmaster for hours and hours.  Tiring bodies.  Heavy packs.  Passing people only to have them pass us 10 minutes later when we stopped to rest.  The path zig-zagged up the mountain so we made it our goal to stop and rest briefly at every other turn, setting small goals just barely doable so we’d make progress.  We stopped at the huts for a little longer rest, grabbing a quick bite of food and a bathroom stop at smelly outhouses. 

Around 3:30am, the crowds of people ascending grew thicker, with a small group maybe 10 feet in front and 10 feet behind us, as those who had slept in the huts overnight now joined the rush to get to the top by sunrise.  Whisper quickly spread that that was only about an hour aways.  We pressed on, pushing our bodies to work harder and fighting the aches that reached deep into us.

We misread a sign, thinking we only had 30 minutes to the summit, which then turned out to be 30 minutes to station 9.  We weren’t going to make the summit by sunrise.  But we agreed that was fine – that wasn’t our primary goal, as it was so many others; we knew we could just as easily see the sunrise from the mountain side.  Our primary goal was to enjoy this pilgrimage, as best we could with the pressures on our bodies.  We were just thankful that everything was going so well, that we’d had lots of time to enjoy the view and each other, and that it seemed we might actually make it to the top!         

We stopped just above the 9^th station with the other hikers around us to enjoy the sunrise.  It happened so quickly, with the sun peeking above other mountains in the distance and creeping into the sky.  Colors flew all over the world and we realized how high up we were!  Way above any mountain I’d skied, way above the clouds, way above any town or even vegetation!  It was brilliant!  I wondered how God blessed us with this miracle every day and how often I’d ignored it.

Pausing for the sunrise encouraged exhaustion to settle in quickly though. So while I took about 200 pictures, Benno collapsed, head on a lava rock, fast asleep.  I let him stay there awhile until people around us all started moving again to finish the rest of the climb and then I tried to wake him quietly, reminding him he were only 600meters from the top, just over 1 lap around a track!, and we could eat our Snickers bars once we arrived. J

It seemed ridiculous to us that it took almost an hour to go 600 meters, but those last 600 meters were almost straight up!  We found ourselves on our hands and knees, scampering over rocks in the low morning light.  Good thing we weren’t holding a flashlight anymore!

Then suddenly, we made it!  The shrine, sign, and village all greeted us and we cheered with newfound energy with all of those around us.  We stopped for more water (having already drunk the four liters we’d bought and willing to pay 500yen for 500ml!), hot corn soup, and coffee from the vending machine there.

The view from the top was breath-taking, we could see out across Japan in all directions.  Mountain peaks, rice fields, forests, lakes, towns – we could see it all through the clouds.  But it wasn’t like we’d reached the peak exactly.  Mt. Fuji is a volcano, so the top is a huge crater, left-over from the last eruption 300years ago.  So there’s this huge crater rim at the top, with the highest peak being exactly opposite us.  In order to have really climbed Mt. Fuji, we needed to get there.  Plus, unlike so many of the other hikers, we decided we’d worked really hard to get up here, we sure weren’t about to rush down and instead wanted to savor the view a little!  So we set out for the other side, welcoming the level path and sense-of-accomplishment that fueled us.

But then we started to get a little giddy, likely because of our sleep deprivation.  Benno started pretending he was in a fort, hiding behind a tall wall of stones and peering out at the “enemy” on the other side.  I headed towards the edge, faking pushing rocks.  We danced our way part-way around the crater to the post office, where we sat awhile to write out post cards we bought at the bottom and brought with us.  Our necks burned while we sat but sitting, after hours of walking and climbing!, just felt so good!

We pressed on toward the meteorological station, realizing we had quite a steep little push ahead of us, even yet!  There, we took turns taking pictures and having our picture taken at the highest point of all of Japan.  What a feeling!

More than four hours later, we decided it was time to climb down from heaven.  We began the long and dusty path ahead, amazed at runners we saw sprinting past us along the way.

At the 8^th station, we stopped for a bathroom break.  It was there that Benno learned of a young American whose legs had given out from under him and needed help.  He recruited me and we went to see what we can do.  Others had carried him up to sit on the bench of the station, but his friends had long ago left him for the top.  He wasn’t getting enough oxygen and therefore throwing up, weak, legs cramped up and unable to move.  And he couldn’t speak Japanese.  Benno to the rescue!  He spoke with the attendant there and learned that our new friend wouldn’t be allowed to stay and rest there, and that the first aid station was down below, a path way to steep and far for us to carry him.  We bought him a water, offered him our ice packs, and sat with him, wondering what to do.  Eventually he couldn’t sit anymore so we carried him off to the side where he could lie down and rest awhile on the rocks; comfortable, no, but better than nothing.  He fell asleep.  We discussed what to do and it was Benno who realized how lonely he’d be if it were left there by himself, sick and weary.  And Benno who was determined that we should stay with him until….well we didn’t know what, but we weren’t going to leave a hurt man lying on a hillside.  I’d never been any prouder of my good Samaritan husband! J  He eventually woke up, thinking he might be ready to venture down, forgoing the idea of reaching the top, when suddenly, his friend appeared, on his way down from the summit!  Energized by a familiar sight and feeling well-rested, he headed down, with the 3 of us flanking him, just in case. 

Down we went.  And down, and down, and down.  Looking up, the summit seemed so far away and we were amazed at how far we’d come!  Again we realized how thankful we were that we hadn’t done this during the day, when the sheer site of the mountain top would’ve kept us away!

Down was easier in a way but we were tired, and really sore by this point and ready to be done.  It took about 3.5 hours though to climb down the elevation we’d done in 7 hours on the way up.  But, at long last, we made it!, cheering with those around us and seeking dinner.

We took a bus an hour down the mountain to the ryokan where we’d made reservations.  It was evening by this point, with the whole adventure taking a lot longer than we’d expected, as we’d spent more time at the top and helping a neighbor than we’d planned on.  But many other hikers had had specific return buses to catch – we had left ours unscheduled, leaving time for whatever pacing came.  It reminded me of a book I’d read recently on leaving time for whatever came, instead of scheduling every minute, so that you’d always be available for whatever life brought.  I think our new friend was glad we’d done that!

We collapsed into the onsen upon our return, anxious to wash away the layers of dust and rest our weary bodies in the hot baths.  We slept well.

The next day we toured the town where we were, Fujikawaguchiko, sitting by the lake, taking that gondola ride up to look out over Mt. Fuji.  We could hardly believe we’d just climbed that!

The return got a little more problematic – our bus back to Tokyo was stuck in traffic for a few hours and I got sick upon our return (a quick trip to the hospital showed it was just a UTI and that the antibiotic I was prescribed would take care of the blood in my urine – ahhh!).  But we’d given ourselves extra time, so could sleep and relax while our bodies healed.  We were sore and exhausted by when you see these pictures, you’ll understand why our tiresome climb to the heavens was so worth it!!! 

Humility

By Molly Lauer

My recent post office story is a perfect example.

I wanted to send my dear friend Lorraine a small birthday package.  So while I scoured the stores for large envelopes and treats, Benno found for me the address and directions to the local post office, a mere 10 minute walk away.  Together, we then searched through my little book of Japanese phrases for something related that I could say once I got there.  “Can you ship this to ---“ we found.  “Insert ‘fune de,’” Benno suggested, “it means ‘by ship.’”  All morning I nervously practiced the phrases.  This was different than going to the grocery store, where I could find what I needed, bring it to the cashier, and look at the price on their register and say “thank you,” even if I didn’t know what they were saying back to me.  This time I needed to make a request, specifically communicate a message to someone in order for something to get done.  I had knots in my stomach as I walked there in the heat (I know, I’m a real wimp when it comes to this kind of thing!). 

But I did it!  The clerk was pleasant and could say “small package” so I was pretty sure we were communicating well.  I paid.  I went to leave when I saw her stamp “Sea Mail” on the package.  Uh oh.  Benno’s explained “sea mail” to me:  very inexpensive to mail something by boat but it takes 2 months to arrive.  Lorraine’s birthday was in 10days!!!  I walked outside and called Benno, who of course was at work and shouldn’t be taking calls. But I was a desperate, despairing wife.  I explained the problem.  APPARENTLY, even English is tricky as we hadn’t communicated well in our own planning – there are 2 different meanings of “ship” in English!  Benno suggested I go back in, explain the problem, and just change it.  “I can’t!” I moaned, “I don’t know any of those words!”  (I’m sure you can hear the whine in my voice when I’m really avoiding doing something – just imagine a 2 year old and you’ll get the idea. :))  “They’ll understand ‘cancel’ and ‘change,’” he assured, “especially if you draw a boat and cross it off and draw an airplane and circle it.”  Gulp.  I felt like an idiot.  Admit my mistake and try all over.  Exactly what I didn’t want to do.

But again, I did it!  Again, the clerk was quite friendly, even looked sympathetic to my desperate pleas, and quickly understood what had happened.  Then she communicated to me, with a point out the door, a grimace, a pretend sack over her back, and hands pretending to guide a steering wheel, that the man who had walked out moments ago had already taken it to the main office.  She apologized and gave me a business card, pointing to a number.  I almost cried. 

I went outside again.  I called Benno again, and explained this latest update.  He agreed to call the main office on my behalf, and texted me that he was awaiting their reply.  I tried to calm myself down, realizing that if she didn’t get this little gift for a couple months yet, it wasn’t the end of the world.  I could survive this tragedy. 

Benno called back.  Bad news and good news. Good news – they had the ability to cancel orders, for a fee.  Bad news – they had little hopes of finding it.  Then more good news – they had found it and would return it to the local post office for our pick-up the very next day.  Hurray!  Until Benno explained that that meant I’d have to go back to the post office, apologize, pick up the package, pay the fee, and then ask to ship it via air mail  to the US.  Gulp.  Here we go again.  I really hate this kind of thing!

I shrunk inside myself as I crawled back there today (inwardly of course; outwardly I was sure to smile brightly and seem approachable and friendly).  Of course, the clerk immediately recognized me, smiled, and brought forth my package without my even having to explain.  With minimal effort, we fixed the problem and the package is on the way!  I apologized and thanked them multiple times before I left.

Like Eve, I am shameful of my sin, but even more so, I am even shameful for my silly little mistakes!  I cower in fear, hating to confess that I’ve messed something up and need help getting out of problem, very aware of my nakedness and vulnerability.  It is very difficult for me to admit fault, ask for forgiveness, or ask for help.  I do not wear humility well.  Pride and independence I can do, but not so much repentance and receiving of help, that’s when I really get bashful.  Any of those that helped me during my knee injury 3 years ago may already be very aware of this!

But humility is a lesson I’m being taught this summer, reluctant learner that I am.  I see it creeping into my life in many different corners:  in relating to people of a culture I know very little about and whose language I do not speak, in applying for a new job, and in my new marriage. 

Benno’s colleagues hosted a sweet welcome dinner party for him/us last week.  Before I went, I was sick with worry about how it would go to meet these strangers, with whom I wondered how we would even relate.  But they were so welcoming and hospitable, assuring me it was good practice for them to speak in English and I need not worry about my very limited Japanese.  They asked us questions about life in the States, general cultural trends, transitioning to life here, and even how we met.  They made me feel at ease in their presence.  I was amazed by how aware they were of our culture, common foods, music, places, history, and language and it all made for great conversation – even those colleagues who hadn’t studies in the US knew basic English and would join in!  I began to wonder how a foreigner in the US would feel.  Surely the majority of us are only minimally aware of the basics of any other culture of people with whom we share this world.  I’ve seen it happen many times in my own classroom, when a new student is shunned because they smell different, or wear different clothes, or use a different kind of folder and backpack.  Humbling.   It’s a world of awkwardness, miscommunication, and patient perseverance when you’re living in a culture that is not your own, and this time it is my turn for that.

In a new marriage, I had expected some disputes.  I spent the six months of our engagement bracing myself for the ways in which we would have to learn to live together and scuffles that might ensue as a result (How long do you use the toothpaste for?  How is the bed to be made?  Which way do you leave the bath faucet handle – towards the shower or the bath?).  What I didn’t practice enough of was saying, “I’m sorry” or “You’re right, I got that wrong.”  Those phrases don’t roll off my tongue as easily as they do some people’s (Benno’s, even, in fact!).  So when he sweeps the kitchen dirt to the genkan (entryway/doormat/porch; a typical custom here, apparently) instead of into the dustpan as I would have expected he would do, I start squealing and exclaiming, “What are you DOING?!” I suppose there are better ways to respond…particularly afterward when he’s apologizing and asking for our repair and I’m still seething, not yet ready to make up.  Humility.  I’m learning.

God is calling for my humility, my willingness to admit mistakes, my acknowledgement of my weakness, my stepping down and off, in all circumstances.  Good thing He has all summer, and better yet a full life time!, to teach me and work on me with this!


Our July 2nd Saturday day trip to Nikko with our friend, Aaron: