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The One Burner Cookbook

July 29, 2007 in Japanese Mix, Oishii, spazarific, Uncategorized

Almost 7 months now in a Japanese shoe box and, after much mental bargaining and many stubbed toes, there is finally peace. I now look at my cute little nook and feel satisfied. It is simple to clean and functional in Japanese fashion – in one 10×8 room and a 4×4 balcony I have a dining room, home office, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, foyer and laundry room. The space is outfitted with some of my favorite comforts of home (a small crimson and navy Persian rug my father bought on closeout sale, a sumptuous fall-colored Alphonse Mucha print, a small ceramic house wall hanging from Guatemala) and adorable 100 yen oddities like pretty plant pots and colorful dish towels. The small wood-and-ceramic Indian chest of drawers I bought in Korea adds glamour to my plain dining table/home office/vanity and the lemon yellow yukata hung on the wall brings cheer to the drab gray tapestries chosen by my landlord. My “garden” – a mamebonsai in a tiny ceramic pot and a slightly wilting and, sadly, still fruitless, tomato plant in a polka-dotted can – inspires my delight, if no impromptu servings of insalata caprese. Yessir, it took a while to learn how to best maneuver the vanity-to-dining table switches when I chose to have Carnitas, Sean, and Bob over for dinner and figuring out where to place my numerous clots of junk was challenging as well, but by the 7 month stage, I feel the pride I hoped I would eventually feel when I signed on to live here.

I am most proud of my endeavors in the “kitchen.”

This is a picture of my kitchen, taken the week I moved in. It has since become more cluttered – there are more bowls, dishes, cups and dish towels but this is the essence of what I have to work with: one burner, one sink, no disposal, a microwave resting atop the refrigerator on the opposite wall, and absolutely zero counter space, unless one chooses to use the vanity/home office/dining table – often, that is too much cleaning up for me in one evening.

It might sound like not much of a challenge to prepare dinner in such a space but as I am stubborn, I seek to go beyond boiling water for cup noodles and microwaving pouches of 99 yen curry.

I adore cooking – it was how I showed my love for my college roommates and, similarly, how I sought to show my gratitude to Bob, Sean, and Carnitas who befriended me when I first arrived in Sakiio. My college roommates no doubt remember my batches of pasta e fagioli (or “bean soup,” as they lovingly called it) and the infamous roast dinner of 2000. Likewise, I remember the loving Korean and Japanese dinners they made me. Little did I ever dream in those days that I would one day consider Japanese curry a staple or that I would experience real kim chee in South Korea.

My brain always tends to choose the most difficult path. The meals I envision almost always require more than one burner and some counter space so at first, I constantly found myself juggling. After chicken was sauteed, the pan would go into the microwave to rest while I used the now-free burner for sauteeing vegetables. After said vegetables were done, these would be balanced in their pan on the trash can while I boiled water to make some mashed potatoes. After the potatoes were soft, I would mash these in the pot while the whole thing was still on the burner. Sometimes I cooked certain parts of the meal in advance and stored it in the refrigerator to minimize the juggling. Regardless, with no counter space, the meals would have to be served straight from the pots to the waiting dishes on the table that had been pulled slightly closer to the center of the room to allow for another chair to fit around it. If someone needed to use the bathroom, they would have to climb over the bed.

Gradually, I learned to make the most of what I had – I realized that, while the quality and panache factor might suffer a bit, certain vegetables and dishes could be cooked in the microwave instead of clogging my burner while I could be preparing other things. I adore my kitchen scissors – with them I can cut vegetables over a pan without needing a cutting board. I have also bought a small 3400 yen toaster oven and have learned to use the refrigerator for storing and preparing things as well: I have become very fond of chopping vegetables as soon as I bring them home and storing them in the freezer.

So, you might ask, what can a person with lofty hopes make in a kitchen with zero counter space, a toaster oven, microwave, refrigerator and a one-burner stove?

Some quick non-ramen/bento box/frozen pizza/sandwich ideas:

Soba Noodle D-light

1 serving of 99 yen store soba

1 pot of water

several table spoons of soy sauce, dashi, sesame oil, or 99 yen store sesame dressing

Boil water. Add soba. Remove when tender (about 5 minutes). Dress with any of the options listed above.

Delicious, super quick, healthy and a 4-serving 99 yen packet can yield 4 lunches … or breakfasts, if doing things Japanese style.

99 yen store curry

1 packet of 99 yen store “curry vegetables mix” – i.e., potatoes, carrots and onions in a vacuum-sealed pouch

1 box of 99 yen store curry roux, any brand or level of hotness desired

2 or 3 blister packs of 99 yen store pre-prepared rice.

2-3 tablespoons of canola oil

meat – any kind will do, but I like chicken in my curry. Beef is a great option.

Add canola oil to a large deep pot – enough to cover the bottom. Sautee meat and curry vegetable mix. Once all elements are cooked, add enough water to create a soup of sorts and bring to a boil. Skim the copious fat that will appear. Once water is clear, add about 3/4 of the block of curry roux and simmer until thick. Microwave the rice and serve into bowls. Ladle the delicious and fragrant curry over the rice and enjoy with edamame and beer. Never as good as Peaches’s or Koko’s curry but it’ll have to do.

Spaghetti al pomodoro

The fancier, more impressive version of this sauce is sauteed in a pan with olive oil and garlic but for the limits of my pico-kitchen, I make the sauce in the microwave while the spaghetti boils on the stove. The results are still delicious.

Pasta (regular Italian-style or, if you’re watching carbs, this is quite nice with soba, too)

Tomatoes (one per person eating)

2-3 tablespoons of olive oil

salt to taste (at least 1/2 tablespoon)

pepper to taste

parmesan cheese

While the pasta is boiling (in water that has been sufficiently salted – the water ought to be cloudy but, of course, not opaque white), chop tomatoes into chunks and toss them in a bowl with olive oil, salt and pepper. If you can refrain from eating the tomatoes, microwave them for about 4 minutes. Once out of the microwave, press the tomatoes with a fork to make the mixture chunky and juicy. Serve over al dente pasta with parmesan cheese and, if you have it, basil (I don’t have it but I want it desperately). This is the ultimate comfort food.

All right, all right. Sounds decent and convenient, but what if you want to have a more complicated dinner – something with 3 or 4 components?

Try a few of my proudest menus on for size … and please keep in mind that I’m no gourmet; I have zero talent for figuring out what to serve with what, am an “eyeball” cook and often don’t know what certain cuts of meat or cooking techniques are called. But this is what I’ve managed to do in my kitchen-tini. And it tasted darn good.

Dinner for friends

Tortellini in brodo

Sauteed Pork

Roasted Potatoes with Rosemary

Fagiolini al pomodoro

Tortellini in brodo (cooking time: ~20 min)

  • 1 package of tortellini
  • 2 blocks of chicken bouillon
  • parmesan cheese to taste
  • pepper to taste

Sauteed Pork with white wine (cooking time: ~20 min)

  • thin cuts of pork
  • white wine to taste
  • salt to taste
  • pepper to taste
  • paprika to taste
  • 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil

“Roasted” potatoes with rosemary (cooking time: ~45 min)

  • several potatoes, cut into small chunks (~2 per dinner guest)
  • 2-3 tablespoons of rosemary
  • 2-3 tablespoons of olive oil
  • salt to taste
  • pepper to taste

Fagiolini al pomodoro (cooking time: ~7 min)

  • green beans
  • tomatoes, cut into chunks
  • salt
  • olive oil
  • pepper

Pat salt, pepper and paprika into thin cuts of pork and, in a shallow pan, sautee them in olive oil. Add a splash of white wine.

As the pork is sauteeing, cut several potatoes into small cubes. Toss in bowl with olive oil, salt, pepper and rosemary. Transfer to sheet of foil and wrap into a tidy little bundle. In a toaster oven, cook the potatoes at 1000 watts for 30-45 minutes (the timer will have to be reset, naturally).

When the pork is finished, transfer slices to Tupperware and store in the fridge. Boil a pot of water and add 2 cubes of chicken bouillon (more if water tastes bland – again, I’m no precision cook). Once the water is boiling, add a package of tortellini (I got mine in a care package from my mother). As the tortellini cook, toss green beans, chopped tomatoes, salt, pepper, and olive oil in a bowl. Microwave until the beans are cooked. When the tortellini are tender, ladle the soup into bowls and top with Parmesan cheese and pepper.

Lasagna Birthday Dinner

(I made this for Sean, only to learn that, in Ireland, lasagnas are made with … cheddar cheese!!!!!)

Lasagna Bolognese

Antipasto Platter

Birthday Cake

Lasagna Bolognese (yields approximately 4 servings)

  • Barilla oven-cook lasagna sheets (670 yen at my foreign grocery. gulp.)
  • 1/4 lb ground beef (Bolognese sauce)
  • 1/4 lb ground pork (Bolognese sauce)
  • 1/8 lb ground chicken (Bolognese sauce)
  • 1 clove garlic (Bolognese sauce)
  • 2-4 tablespoons olive oil (Bolognese sauce)
  • 4-6 tomatoes, chopped (Bolognese sauce). Variation: 2 chopped tomatoes plus 1 can of SALTED, UNSUGARED crushed tomatoes. I prefer it with the latter but couldn’t find crushed tomatoes here, at least none without sugar.
  • 1/2 – 1 tablespoon of salt (Bolognese sauce)
  • 1/2 tablespoon of pepper (Bolognese sauce)
  • 1/2 onion, diced (Bolognese sauce)
  • handful of mushrooms (Bolognese sauce)
  • 3/4 carrot – chopped (Bolognese sauce)
  • 2 tablespoons flour (Bechamel)
  • 1 cup of milk (Bechamel)
  • 8 pats butter (Bechamel)
  • pinch of nutmeg (Bechamel)
  • fresh mozzarella cheese, sliced into chunks

Antipasto platter

  • 4-5 asparagus spears, steamed
  • 8-10 slices prosciutto
  • 1-2 tablespoons olive oil
  • handful of pitted black olives (optional, of course, Cheech)
  • half a block of fresh mozzarella cheese, sliced thinly
  • 1 tomato, sliced thinly
  • grissini, broken in half (thin Italian-style cracker-crunchy breadsticks)

Birthday cake

  • from Cantevole in the train station – my oven was busy so I patronized one of Sakiio’s lovely little bakeries. This cake had a chocolate brownie base, was dusted with powdered sugar and shaped like a star!
  • conbini candles
  • conbini cigarette lighter

Salsa Bolognese (~1 hr)

The bolognese sauce for the lasagna was tweaked to add mushrooms (which Sean loves) and it’s lovely with or without. I made my bolognese sauce the night before since I knew I was getting home late and didn’t want to deal with making the burner compete between the sauce and the bechamel. If you have some sauce leftover, save it by all means. It’s good on just about anything.

In a deep pot, add enough olive oil to cover the bottom and set to medium heat. Roast a whole garlic clove until brown and throw it away. Add chopped onions, carrots and mushrooms. Sautee until the onions turn clear. Add mixture of ground beef, pork and chicken to the sauteed vegetables and cook until brown. Then add chopped tomatoes, salt and pepper. Bring mixture to a boil while stirring to ensure that the chopped elements don’t stick to the pan. Reduce heat to simmer, cover and allow the sauce to simmer for roughly 45 minutes.

Bechamel (~10 minutes)

In a small to medium size pot, melt butter over medium heat. Slowly, bit by bit, sift flour into the melted butter, stirring all the while to ensure that there aren’t any clumps. Stirring, stirring should yield a thick, cream-colored mixture. Very slowly, add a warmed cup of milk, stirring continuously. The result should be a smooth, clump-free cream sauce. Add a pinch or two of nutmeg and mix well.
In a small, deep pan layer:

  • lasagna sheets
  • bolognese sauce
  • bechamel
  • fresh mozzarella cheese
  • bolognese sauce

The top of the lasagna should finish with a lasagna sheet and be covered with bolognese sauce, drizzles of bechamel and bits of mozzarella cheese. Be sure to spread the sauce liberally over the dried pasta – while not soaking it – to ensure that the pasta is thoroughly cooked. Too much sauce will ensure soupy lasagna. Bake for approximately 30 minutes at 1000 watts. The timer will, of course, have to be reset after 15 minutes.

Antipasto platter

As lasagna is baking, line the rim of a medium-to-large plate with one slice of tomato followed by one slice of mozzarella, one after the other until the entire plate is lined. Each slice should slightly overlap. Place a small bowl at the center of the dish and fill with grissini.

Steam asparagus spears over the now-free burner and cut in half. Wrap with one slice of prosciutto each (hopefully yours is authentic and not plasticky like the kind I’ve been able to find in Japan). Arrange each wrapped spear around the bowl of grissini, so that they look like sun rays and overlap the slices of tomato and mozzarella. Add the (optional) olives to the platter and drizzle the mozzarella, asparagus, tomatoes and (optional) olives with (non-optional) olive oil and dust with salt and pepper.

Birthday cake

Remove birthday cake from its wrapping and plunk on a plate, conserving it in the refrigerator until time to serve. Hey, sometimes birthdays fall on nights that bring the cook home late.

Latin-American Cena

Chicken Mole

Buttered Rice

Ceviche

Sangria

Salsa and Chips

Chicken mole (20-25 minutes)

  • 1 mole packet (serves 3-4)
  • cuts of chicken – wings, thighs, breast pieces, as many as 3-4 people can eat

Buttered rice (3 minutes)

  • 99 yen store rice packets (1 per dinner guest)
  • 2-3 pats of butter
  • sprinkling of parmesan cheese
  • pepper to taste

Shrimp, Scallop and Whitefish Ceviche (prep time: 5 minutes. Marinating time: at least 6 hours)

  • 2-3 cups of orange juice
  • juices of several lemons and limes
  • 1 pound white fish
  • 1/2 pound scallops
  • 1/2 red pepper, diced
  • 1/2 yellow pepper, diced
  • 1/2 pound shrimp
  • 1 sprig parsley

Sangria (prep time: about 5-10 minutes. Marinating time: at least 4 hours.

  • 1 bottle red wine
  • 2 cups club soda
  • 1 apple, sliced
  • 1 orange, sliced into wedges
  • 1 peach, peeled and sliced
  • 2 tablespoons sugar

Salsa and chips (as fast as your little fingers can open the bag and dump the salsa)

  • salsa
  • chips
  • lime
  • avocado wedges

This dinner was, I thought, my finest moment. It began to gel after I read a recipe for ‘summer ceviche’ in the magazine I worked for before moving to Japan. Ceviche is one of my favorite dishes on the planet – its cost and small portions generally force me to chew on my tongue lest I order it when I spy it on the menu at restaurants, so strong is my desire. Until I read my former colleague’s recipe, I had had no idea that ceviche was so simple to make. Best of all, it doesn’t require any stove time whatsoever. Hrmn, I thought. I did just buy a pitcher. And my mother did send me a packet of mole sauce …

The basic ingredients for ceviche are citrus juice and fish, but there are many popular variations and additions. For mine, I combined baby scallops and chunks of white fish (cut, of course, with my kitchen scissors) with the juice of 4 lemons and a couple of cups of orange juice in a deep Tupperware container. Chopped red and yellow peppers went into the mix as well, as did a sprig of parsley. I purposely conserved my shrimp to add to the ceviche closer to dinner time, as marinating shrimp can make them tough. Once all of the elements were combined, I popped the Tupperware container into the fridge and let it marinate until evening, gleefully checking it every once in a while and marveling as the fish went from clear pink to solid, cooked white. It couldn’t be simpler, or more delicious. I only wish I’d known earlier.

In the evening, I poured a bottle of red wine into a pitcher and plopped pieces of peeled apple, orange wedges and peeled peaches inside. I added the club soda and sugar and let this brew for a few hours as well.

At around 10 – I had told Bob and Sean to come up at 11ish as Sean finished work late – I followed the instructions on the back of my mole package, which involved the arduous task of combining the contents of the package with a cup of warm water and heating the whole mess in a pot, adding chicken when the mess was warm and bringing it all to a boil. As this occurred, I dumped out packages of 99 yen rice into a bowl and combined them with butter, Parmesan cheese and pepper. This, I microwaved. As it microwaved, I added shrimp to my gorgeous ceviche and set about to filling bowls with the tortilla chips I’d found in a foreign goods store as well as salsa. I decorated this bowl with avocado wedges.

Stuffed, proud – and after all of that sangria, soused as well- the only thing left to do was attend to the festering pile of dishes that seemed to loom even larger in the miniscule sink.

Fortunately, that’s what well-fed fellows are made for.

The Week in Numbers

July 27, 2007 in Uncategorized

Plates of delicious curry rice eaten: 1

Tailless stray kitties seen: 7

Breaks at work enjoyed: 1

Hangovers suffered: 1

  • beers drank up: 3
  • bottles of warm sake enjoyed: 1/2
  • drunken rants: 2

3 year-old nose pickers: 2

7 year-old toenail biters: 2

5 year-old toe suckers: 2

Children put in the corner: 1

Kanji learned: 5

Dinners cooked at home: 0 (ha!)

Sore throats endured: 2

Inspiring conversations shared: 1

Bicycles dodged: 50+

Tomatoes enjoyed from my tomato plant: 0 … still

Servings of sushi gobbled: 8

Japanese novels translated into English begun: 1

  • References to living in Japan understood within the first100 pages: 5

Isometric exercises secretly carried out during awkward adult classes to quell boredom and improve my ever-fattening bottom: 1000s

Trains ridden: 12

Yen spent on train travel: 4220

Yen spent on the phone bill: 2990

Yen charged for utilities: 6100

Yen spent on a heather gray on-sale sweater: 1450, marked down from 6000

Instances where “sumimasen” was uttered: countless

Obviously On Top of Things

July 24, 2007 in spazarific

… another thing I really enjoyed about my trip to Korea was the chance to see Pepper in action. She and her manager graciously allowed me to sit in on a few of her classes and I was treated to some adorable and cheeky Korean kid antics, as well as a front-row seat to Pepper’s brilliant teaching style. She is effective, fun as hell but at the same time, doesn’t let the kids get away with anything that disrupts her class. She also manages to do this without being draconian or mean – something I could definitely take a few lessons in. I noticed that she was constantly on top of the situation; while teaching her lesson she would casually and immediately quell a student’s fidgety pencil or deliver a quick, “Erase that” to students who had taken it upon themselves to scrawl with pencil on the wall. All this without ever losing her stride or stopping the flow of her lesson. I thought of some of my kids – namely, Seiya, who is unhappy unless he is interrupting me – and thought, Boy; I could sure take a page out of Pepper’s book.

I had class with my dorky and restless 10 year olds yesterday. I always have a lot of fun with this class but, often, they can get a little too silly and hard to calm down. I decided to start small and try out some casual Pepper-style hyperness-quelling techniques with them.

Yasushi and Shoudai were especially silly that day. Yasushi likes to bring bugs into the classroom with him and Shoudai is fond of mimicking, but the game of the day was “Flick Anything at Each Other While Ribu is Trying to Teach Vocabulary.” My usual reaction to this kind of game would be to bark out a teasing, “Okay, you turkeys, relax!” (which they don’t understand anyway) but yesterday, I quietly took away their carpet strands, pencils and erasers. They didn’t seem upset but became a little quieter and I was pleased.

“What’s this?” I asked, holding up the flashcard for “boat.”

“Boat,” they said listlessly.

“Boat!” I repeated with dramatic glee. They laughed.

“What’s this?” I asked, holding up the flashcard for “helicopter.”

“Helicopter,” said Kazu.

“Good, Kazu!” I said, and as I was about to flip to the next flashcard, noticed the disobedient and persistent dorks flicking something small at each other yet again. I immediately shot my hand out to stop the object and retrieve it, but as I did so and brought it closer to my face to examine it, I realized that I had picked up a small, crusty scab.

At the sight of the repugnant object, all composure was regrettably lost. “What the … Jesus!” I muttered, while flinging it away from me.

“Jesus!” mocked Shoudai, giggling. “Jesus!”

“Jesus!” hooted Yasushi, Tomoyuki and Kazu.

Surely this isn’t how missionaries envisioned bringing Jesus to the English classes.

The Hunt for Poo Socks

July 22, 2007 in Uncategorized

I’m back from Korea. In case you were wondering, I’m also front from Korea. Wakka wakka! 6 months of listening to broken English hasn’t robbed me of my love for a ridiculous pun …

6 months here in Japan – I quietly celebrated my 6 month anniversary of moving to Japan about 2 weeks ago. By “quietly celebrated,” I mean I simply noted the date in my head. Taking my trip to Korea inspired me to celebrate it a little more loudly, by which I mean actively noting differences in my life since I arrived. For example, I arrived on January 8th after an absolutely miserable 13-hour flight spent suffering from a raging flu. The trip from airport to meeting point was made even worse by the fact that I was saddled with two enormous and heavy suitcases. Aching, tired, anxious, sniffling and completely disoriented, I tried to make sense of the airport and find the train terminal. I lugged my bags up and down escalators, made several false turns, attempted to ask airport staff “Where are train tickets?” and discovered to my great dismay that my 2 months of Japanese study had done nothing to help me understand anything that was said to me.

I left for Korea on July 15 and, upon disembarking from the train station with my light carry on, was hit with a sense of recollection and nostalgia. Why, this was the same train station I’d left from 6 months before. There were the signs that had made no sense; there were the ticket booths that I stared at for 5 minutes before finally picking the one that looked closest to what my school had instructed me to use.

On July 15, I knew where to go. This sign said, “International departures” and this other sign said “No. 1 Travel Agency Meeting Point.” I spoke to the travel agent in simple Japanese – “here you go! thank you!” – and browsed the gift shops before boarding the shuttle to reach my flight’s gate.

Once on the plane, I immediately sensed the stirrings of Korean sensibilities. The flight attendants had replaced the now-familiar and comforting “arigatou” with “kamsamhamnida” and I felt a brief panic – in Korea, I would be at square one again, wouldn’t I?

After 6 months in Japan I have managed to learn enough Japanese to make various wants and needs known. I can now also understand when others have certain wants and needs. I can express disappointment, delight, boredom, sleepiness and hunger and can tell someone to stop doing something I don’t want them to do, or, conversely, to please do something. I can suggest activities, I can talk in the past and in the future and can read at least a little bit of most advertisements or signs I see. On the airplane to Busan, my Korean vocabulary consisted of “thank you,” “please give me,” “hello!” “where is …?” certain names of delicious foods and various mild swears – things I learned from Erma and our college roommate, Songhae. Fidgeting on the plane amid Asians who weren’t speaking the way I’m accustomed to hearing them speak, I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready to feel so lost again.

Three days later, my Korean vocabulary included “I don’t know,” “a little,” “over here, please,” “fast, fast – no!,” “yes” and the knowledge that “yoboseyo” is how people say “hello” when answering the phone. I had a little opportunity to use these new phrases plus my old ones but, as I soon discovered, Korea is far more English-speaker-friendly than Sakiio. There was English writing all over the buildings and to my shock, it was fairly simple to find service staff who spoke English – cab drivers being a notable exception but as cab rides are so unbelievably cheap compared to Japan, this issue was completely forgiven. Square one at some moments, sure, but since I was on vacation my vacation Korean was perfectly suitable and I needn’t have worried – I’ll save my energy for trying to decipher kanji in instruction booklets that have no English translation, thanks (I’m talking to you, Brita filter!!). Anti-foreigner sentiment might be far more out in the open in Korea than it is in Japan, but they sure seem to be more eager to help us make sense of their country.

Pepper was the ultimate hostess – in 3 days she and her lovely friends showed me an amusement park, a beach, a foreigners-only casino (my first time gambling yielded $15!!), two cities, mountains, shopping and lakes, not to mention previously unexplored culinary wonders. It is not an exaggeration to say that we crammed 6 days’ worth of glorious food into 3. Wonderful, too, was being exposed to feminine energy for the first time in 6 months – the friends I’ve made in Sakiio are all male.

There was also a recurring theme throughout the Korea trip – a hunt for poo socks.

Let me introduce you to poo socks. The Koreans call them “ddong socksuh” and the Japanese might call them Crayon Shin-Chan socks (or Crayon Shin-Chan no kutsushita, if we’re being technical). Crayon Shin-Chan is a cartoon character drawn by a Yoshito Usui, Japanese artist. The character is 5 years old and, like any 5 year old, loves taking off his pants and worshiping poo.

Pepper and her friends told me about “poo” socks and at first I didn’t believe her but then she showed me the pairs she has bought – Crayon Shin-Chan hugging a mound of poo, Crayon Shin-Chan shaking his naked bottom, Crayon Shin-Chan lying on his back with a censored blurb covering his exposed privates. Instantly, I wanted my own! And thus, the Hunt for Poo Socks began. Pepper and I found Crayon Shin-Chan socks pretty easily and I bought a couple of pairs, but, regrettably, through our search we found none featuring his relationship with poo. In between calbee-eating and exploring, we carried out the hunt for poo socks for about two days before finally giving up. Pepper very kindly gave me one of the pairs she bought for herself. And now, happily, I have poo socks of my very own.

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I can see all of you sick with envy!

An interesting note – Crayon Shin-Chan is big in Korea but the Koreans are quick to tell you that he’s a Japanese creation. My internet research proved that Crayon Shin-Chan is in fact a Japanese invention but I have never seen any Crayon Shin-Chan merchandise and certainly not any socks emblazoned with embroidered poo.

I’m not sure where I’ll wear them – most likely in the comfort of my own roasting 10×8 apartment. I have entertained the thought of wearing them to my kids’ classes. Yesterday, I made clay animals with the 3 year olds and two of them decided to make “unchi (poo)” and “kuso (sh*t)” instead, so I’m guessing wearing them to class would be well-received. Yet, I somehow doubt the staff members will be so welcoming.

A few more Korea shots:

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Colorful Daegu, as seen from Pepper’s rooftop

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The beginnings of something wonderful ….

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Bo kim bop – Fried rice. Kimchee. Cheese. Heaven!

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Another feast

The aftermath

The aftermath

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A beautiful lake in Pepper’s town

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Pepper’s calbee dinner

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Burn, baby, burn …

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From outside Hyaeundae Aquarium – no trip is ever complete without a random picture of a mermaid.

3 beautiful days to recharge, reconnect, and experience more of this crazy continent I’ve chosen to call “home” for the next 8 months or so. Kamsahamnida, Pepper! I boarded the plane, groggy and still full from the enormous calbee birthday dinner eaten 8 hours before. I landed back “home” in Japan about an hour later and, upon entering the airport, realized I felt relieved to hear Japanese around me.

Because it felt familiar.

“Heck, no!”

July 13, 2007 in Uncategorized

Last week, I threw my unruly 12 year olds a bone of cool aunt mercy when I used the phrase “Heck, no!” during my Fourth of July lesson. That simple act might have unwittingly set off a chain of events because I found myself saying, “Heck, no!” a couple of times more this week – to my students.

It’s interesting how things change. At my old job, I said, “Heck, no!” on a half-hourly basis. I had absolutely no problem calling writers into my office and, if their work didn’t meet company standards, asking them to turn in a new draft. My bedside manner in this, admittedly, left much to be desired – I was frustrated with the job and this, regrettably, leaked into every aspect of my performance. My co-worker, Doug, lovingly called me “The Hammer,” but I have no doubt the writers called me far less affectionate things. And I get that.

It’s so different with the children. One look at their little faces and, suddenly, I bear the imprint of their little heels on my back. Precious. Adorable! Just look at that little face – that’s a face that deserves … ice cream! Please don’t let them cry!

But “Heck, no!” is a freeing phrase – perhaps uttering it in class the other week awoke a tinge of the old “Hammer” within me. This week I have put one student in the corner and kicked another out of my classroom. Both times they deserved it and both times I was pleased with myself.

Kokoro was the first to go. The most potentially reactive of my “delicate” class of 7 year olds, he has earned my scrutiny since implementing Lloyd’s suggestions to whip the class into shape. Whereas I once wondered if he might be autistic I have witnessed him behaving quite well and realized that Lloyd was right – Kokoro can behave perfectly when he wants to.

This week marks the 3rd week since the classroom makeover. Kokoro’s perfect behavior began to slip when the little rascal began to test me.

“Kokoro, sit down,” I said. He pranced underneath the white board and ignored me.

“Kokoro, sit down,” I said. He ignored me again. I stood to remove one of the “happy faces” from the board next to his name – a warning. He ignored this, too, but the other students watched, enthralled.

“Kokoro, sit down,” I said. He ignored me again. Two smiley faces gone – get in the corner, Kokoro! He went, but huddled himself into a tiny ball, sniffling, and refused to come back when his 2 minutes were up. It was my turn to ignore him – I continued with the lesson plan, pausing once to angrily remove a smiley face from Ryo who had thrown a wadded up paper at the sobbing Kokoro. Every few minutes, I patted Kokoro’s back and asked him if he wanted to come back to the class but he only wept.

Kokoro’s mother hovered outside the classroom and noticed her small son crying in the corner. The principal poked her head inside and, in Japanese, asked Kokoro if he was all right and if he wanted to come out. He ignored her as well and, to my delight, she came inside and hauled him out, his wee body and tiny bare feet dangling from her arms.

Class continued. We sang a song and reviewed our vocabulary. With 5 minutes left to go, the door creaked open and in came Kokoro, looking ashamed. He quietly sat next to me as I was explaining the homework, his chin resting on his hands and his soggy, red-rimmed eyes peering up at me.

The principal told me later that she and Kokoro’s mother had taken their attention off of him for a second and when they looked up he was coming back into the classroom. They thought he was coming in to get his back pack to leave but to their surprise, he stayed.

“He deserved to be in the corner,” said the principal. “Keep doing it!’

“Heck, no!” incident #2 came with my other “delicate” class – the 12 year olds. As one might guess, it was Seiya who got the boot.

I had been warned by the principal that Seiya was even more “active” than usual. Undaunted, I breezed into class, my arms full of class materials (the plan for the day: “Mad libs!”) and began my lesson. Seiya was indeed quite active – shouting and jostling the table on its legs. I was having fun with the other students creating a story of sorts on the white board so I ignored him mostly, apart from interjecting here and there, “Seiya! Relax!” Our story grew and finally, towards the end I realized that I was shouting to ask the other students what word came next … and I was shouting because Seiya was hooting and hollering and, as usual, disrupting my class. Hell, no!

“Seiya!” I snapped. “Get out!”

“Uh! Buh!” he squawked. Yuuki, his partner in crime, howled in laughter.

“Get out!” I said again, opening the door and pointing.

“Uh! Buh! Teach-a!” Seiya howled, pointing frantically at Yuuki, slapping at him with his notebook. Oh, hell, no!

“Get out! You are very rude!” I said. “Get out, Seiya! Go!”

Seiya went, but not without his close-up. As he turned to go, he pointed wildly again at Yuuki.

“Gay!” he declared emphatically and exited stage left.

The principal came to investigate once she noticed Seiya loose in the hallway. I excused myself from the classroom and asked her to tell Seiya that I had kicked him out because he was being very rude. We would be happy to have him back in class if he behaved, I added. The principal spoke to him – no doubt a watered down version of what I had said. Seiya followed me back into the classroom, where the other students were shifting uncomfortably.
Class was nearly over by now so I wearily asked them if they had any questions.

“Hai!” said Gay Yuuki. “Do you like car?”

“Cars are okay,” I said.

“Do you like Seiya?” Gay Yuuki asked.

“Yes, I like Seiya,” I said. “I think Seiya is great! But Seiya is very noisy.”

“Eeehhhhh???” asked Gay Yuuki.

I made flapping motions with my hand in front of my mouth. “Noisy!” I repeated. “Baa baa baa baa baa!”

Gay Yuuki hooted. Now that I think of it, if Gay Yuuki was contributing enough to the noise to earn Seiya’s vengeance then he probably should have been thrown out, too.

But there’s always next week.

Simply Irresistible

July 8, 2007 in Uncategorized

Since I am “at that age,” I often look at my wee students and want to hug them or squeeze their little potato feet. Imagine my surprise to discover that the sentiment might go both ways – this week, I have been felt up by not one, but two of my own young students.

Now, if it had just happened once I might let it go as sheer clumsiness – 6 year olds aren’t exactly known for being graceful. Yet, in two separate classes I called out for students to “touch green,” “touch yellow,” and when I called out the color that I happened to be wearing, two little girls each raced up to me – not the many posters in the room that showcased “blue” and “purple” – and grabbed a hearty handful of my breast.

Since I assumed that my students’ actions were innocent, I let it go (not without squirming slightly on my cushion). After all, I have heard of far worse – back when we first began teaching, Bob had to field an attempt of the dreaded kancho and another teacher I spoke to reported that one of his students tried to kancho him with a pair of scissors. Yet, I will have to be on the lookout for more of this behavior. After all, though I really adore my young students – and though I recognize that the sight of my exquisite bosom might in fact inspire them to prefer mixed race women in authority positions over little Japanese boys – I simply cannot allow our relationship to include “Touching Time.”

I’m a Yankee Doodle Dandy

July 6, 2007 in Uncategorized

Any ex-patriot will tell you how strange it is to live abroad during one of your country’s big holidays. “Strange” is, of course, a shallow and overreaching term – in some cases, there is a sense of guilt (“Woah. Was last week Thanksgiving? I didn’t hear anything about it …”) or a sense of loss (“All of my friends back home are drinking green beer tonight and I’m not!”). On the flip side, there can be a sense of exuberance (“Woo! I can send a package today even though it’s Memorial Day!!”) and a thrilling sense of playing hooky. On the really big, beloved holidays like July 4th it’s more of the sense of loss.

I love the 4th of July – especially in New York City. Rooftop parties, barbecues, watermelon, beer, the Macy’s Fireworks show … what’s not to love? I don’t really get homesick often but I will admit to a tinge of nostalgia in the days leading up to Independence Day. And as my friends here are a) not from America or b) from America and seemingly unconcerned with events back home it was up to me to celebrate the Fourth of July in Japan – in my own way.

The Fourth of July fell on a Wednesday this year – the day I teach my disinterested, disrespectful 12 year olds. Though I have stopped caring whether or not they like me, I usually am very concerned with whether or not they produce English properly. Them, them, always about them. Not on my country’s biggest holiday, fools!

I patiently waited until we had gone over the day’s target language and, as they yelled and hooted in Japanese, set out my materials. Pulling “How are you today?” and “What’s your favorite color?” out of them had been mind-numbing for all of us but as I began to write words on the board in red marker they looked up with interest.

I wrote:

Today July 4 is.

“What’s this?” I asked, pointing to the words on the board.

“Today … July 4th … is.” They said in a monotone.

“Today July 4th is?” I asked with an eyebrow raised. “Today July 4 is?”

More tittering. “Today is July 4th!” supplied Yoko, the only student in class who seems to care.

“Thank you, Yoko,” I said. I wrote the phrase correctly and then wrote, beneath it, “Today a great American holiday is.”

“Today is … a great American … holiday,” the class read.

“Good!” I said.

I then drew a wonky picture of America in the board’s upper left hand corner.

“Ha ha ha!” bellowed Seiya. “Chicken!”

“No, not chicken,” I said, pointing to my mangled red-markered country. “What country is this?”

“United States,” said someone from the back.

“Good!” I said.

(Now here’s where it began to get tricky – after all, how do you teach American history to people who barely speak English? My solution – pantomime, graded language and lots of cartoons)

A similarly wonky cartoon England came next, drawn in the upper right hand corner of the board. “What country is this?” I asked.

“England,” “U.K.” blurted the class.

“Good.” I said, scribbling. “What’s this?”

“Boat.” said Seiya. “Columbus!”

“Not Columbus,” I said.

“Ehhhhh?” grumbled the students.

“Watch,” I said, pointing to my eyes and then pointing to the board.

I was drawing my 3rd colonial settler peering into the woods with a question mark over their head when I realized that, for once, I had their – mostly – undivided attention. I heard mutters of “sensei” being snickered behind my back as I drew (“Sensei is tolerable today”? “Sensei is out of her gourd”?) but, for the most part, they were paying attention. Of course, I can only assume that their attention was in gratitude for not having to play the games they can’t stand but, nonetheless, I had it.

Exhilarated, I continued to draw – scared settlers peering into a forest followed by settlers building a city with big grins on their face – all the while eliciting vocabulary from them. They groaned when I erased the forest and the city and chattered in Japanese.

I drew again, next to England. “What’s this?”

“King!” shouted Seiya.

“King from where?”

“English king!”

(now for the extremely simplified revisionist history part … but give me a break – I had 40 minutes and the kids don’t speak English)

I drew an angry face on the king and the kids exploded into laughter. I drew a cage around America and changed the king’s face to an evil smile.

“Good!” I said, giving a thumb’s up sign.

Next: angry faces with “America” written over them and a word balloon saying, “No!”

“No, England!” I shouted, and since the kids had given me so little trouble, added: “Heck no!”

“No!” shouted the kids.

“That’s right!” I said. I erased the angry faces and drew another ship coming from England to America, with “U.K” written on it.

And then I drew the battle field. At this point, Seiya became very excited and jumped up to help me draw additional dying and shooting soldiers and I welcomed the help. The kids shrieked and hooted when I drew the first pool of blood coming from a dead soldier and when I drew a soldier holding a white surrender flag, laughed.

“England dead!” said Seiya.

Here, again, my history became revisionist but there was no way I was illustrating the formation of government and the writing of the Declaration of Independence. I wrote the date on the board: July 4, 1776, erased the cage from around America and announced: “America – free!!”

To my pleasure, several of the girls gasped: “Ohhhhhhhh!!” in recognition.

“History?” asked Yuko.

“Yes,” I said.

I then drew a barbecue scene with fireworks overhead.

“Watermelon!” said Hitomi.

“Beer!” exulted Seiya.

“Yes,” I said and, after scrawling a quick American flag on the board, cleared my throat. Even though Sean had threatened to kill me if I ended my lecture by doing this, I did it anyway.

I belted “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” and saluted the American flag.

My kids snickered and at the end of my 30 seconds of patriotic pomp, Yuuki gave me the thumbs up.

“Teach-a!” he said. “Your speaking is … ” he looked to his fellow students for guidance and finally ended with, “… well!”

“Thank you, Yuuki,” I said. I glanced at the clock. As I had some time to kill I asked the students if they had any questions.

They discussed amongst themselves in Japanese and, finally, Yoko spoke for the rest.

“Hai!” she said. “How tall are you?”

Suffer the Children to Sing “La La La” Unto Me

July 1, 2007 in Uncategorized

Each week, I bring new things to my children’s classes. Right from the start I enjoyed being silly and using strange voices to maintain interest when I drilled them with flashcards but, as anything, my teaching “shtick” evolves. I now enjoy teaching letters and their corresponding phonic sounds through musical scales (this exercise borne out of an attempt to get them to hear the difference between “la la la” and “ra ra ra”). I also enjoy shouting “Stop!” with my palm held out flat in front of me like a policeman if they try to enter or leave my class without answering questions in English, juggling colored balls and asking them to name whichever color ball I have caught and, lately, drawing cartoons on the white board to help illustrate the phrase I am trying to teach them for the day. Since we are not allowed to speak Japanese to the students, illustrating concepts like “How old are you?” and “I like/I don’t like” can be challenging. Though I am not an artist by any means I’d like to think that my drawings and countless hours spent poring over comic books as a kid help the comprehension process. My favorite, from this week, to help illustrate “Do you like ____?” “Yes, I do!/No, I don’t!”:
whiteboard1.jpg

Further, this week’s favorite student quotes were gleaned by eavesdropping during an arts and crafts project that required one of my classes of 6 year olds to draw pictures of their family. I also joined in the crayon fun and drew “father,” “brother” and “sister.” Since I don’t actually have a sister, I drew the sister I’ve always wanted – Sailor Mercury, resplendent in her pervert-provoking school uniform and bright blue bob. This action sent my students into paroxysms – they literally shrieked when they saw me giving my imaginary sister blue hair. A flurry of Japanese ensued; I caught the words “gaikokujin” and “sensei” coming from Hitomi but couldn’t understand the rest.

My guesses as to what Hitomi might have been saying:

  • “Lots of gaikokujin naturally have blue hair. It’s completely normal in England, where sensei is from!”
  • “I think sensei is trying to copy manga, but gaikokujin never do it right!”
  • “Sensei is such a silly gaikokujin!”

I calmed the students down by instructing them to draw pictures of their mothers. I scribbled away and thought my own picture came out rather well, but apparently two of my girls did not agree because they glanced over at my artwork and gasped in shock. The Japanese began again, but this time I understood:

“Creepy!” cried Miko.

“Poor sensei!” agreed Hitomi.

I apologize heartily to Isa, my beautiful mother. Forgive them, mother – they know not what they do.