With a smile toward the earth that nurtured them and a wink for their admirers!
2011年1月31日月曜日
Okinawa cherry blossoms
With a smile toward the earth that nurtured them and a wink for their admirers!
What's the difference?
It's cherry blossom season in Okinawa, but these are not the usual cherry blossoms of the Japanese springtime. They are early bloomers, at their best in late January and early February. The color is deeper and richer than the somei-yoshinovariety, and something else is different as well.
The Japanese playright Seami once wrote, "The gods have placed the cherry blossoms up high, so that men's eyes--and hearts--may be uplifted." The blossoms he wrote about--the pale pink somei-yoshino--smile up at the sky. The Okinawa hi-kan-sakura smile back at the earth that nurtured them and the people who stop to admire them.
The Japanese playright Seami once wrote, "The gods have placed the cherry blossoms up high, so that men's eyes--and hearts--may be uplifted." The blossoms he wrote about--the pale pink somei-yoshino--smile up at the sky. The Okinawa hi-kan-sakura smile back at the earth that nurtured them and the people who stop to admire them.
A Spark of Kindness
Naha at night is magical. Electric lights dance up the hill from Kokusai Dori and twinkle among the stars above Shuri Castle. They sparkle all the way downhill, over the harbor, and mingle with ship lights and airplane lights. Within recent memory, though, the stars had the night sky of Naha all to themselves.
If you grew up with it, you take electricity for granted. It's as common and as expected as running water from the tap. But if you never had it, and then one day you do, you remember that day forever.
In an encounter with an old friend from my US high school days, I learned that his tour of duty in Okinawa in the late 60s and early 70s included responsibility for delivering electricity generated from barges anchored off Naha. On a recent trip to Naha, I mentioned the barge generators to an Okinawan friend.
His eyes lit up. "I remember them well! The barges were anchored off the Oroku district. It was during the occupation, and that's when my high school first got electricity."
"You know what else?" he added, with even more sparkle. "They made a baseball diamond for us, too."
Electricity and baseball, too!
If you grew up with it, you take electricity for granted. It's as common and as expected as running water from the tap. But if you never had it, and then one day you do, you remember that day forever.
In an encounter with an old friend from my US high school days, I learned that his tour of duty in Okinawa in the late 60s and early 70s included responsibility for delivering electricity generated from barges anchored off Naha. On a recent trip to Naha, I mentioned the barge generators to an Okinawan friend.
His eyes lit up. "I remember them well! The barges were anchored off the Oroku district. It was during the occupation, and that's when my high school first got electricity."
"You know what else?" he added, with even more sparkle. "They made a baseball diamond for us, too."
Electricity and baseball, too!
2011年1月14日金曜日
Time to Break a Mirror (6)
Have you been following this from the earlier "mirror" posts? If not, this one won't make any sense. But if you have been following, here goes! This is how you get from A to B, from kagami mochi to delicious arare senbei. Arare, by the way, means snow flurries. Nothing says January like snow flurries.
1. The dried-up kagami mochi is brittle, so wrap it in a clean dish towel to keep the fragments from flying all over your house. When it shatters, you get fragments, just like when a glass mirror breaks.
2. Get a blunt instrument--a wooden meat tenderizing hammer, a rolling pin, a carpenter's mallet, whatever you have.
3. Put the towel-wrapped mochi on a flat, steady, surface--a sturdy kitchen table or the floor. Whack it with the blunt instrument until it shatters into teeny tiny pieces. (on the scale of frozen peas and carrots)
4. Collect the fragments. Shake them out of the towel and onto a baking sheet or a casserole pan that you've coated with a thin film of olive oil. Dust them with a hint of salt.
5. Bake for 5 minutes in a pre-heated 220 degrees C oven.
Presto change-o! You have transformed your kagami mochi into arare senbei! Now all you need is some green tea, a couple of mikans just for variety, and a friend to nibble them with.
1. The dried-up kagami mochi is brittle, so wrap it in a clean dish towel to keep the fragments from flying all over your house. When it shatters, you get fragments, just like when a glass mirror breaks.
2. Get a blunt instrument--a wooden meat tenderizing hammer, a rolling pin, a carpenter's mallet, whatever you have.
3. Put the towel-wrapped mochi on a flat, steady, surface--a sturdy kitchen table or the floor. Whack it with the blunt instrument until it shatters into teeny tiny pieces. (on the scale of frozen peas and carrots)
4. Collect the fragments. Shake them out of the towel and onto a baking sheet or a casserole pan that you've coated with a thin film of olive oil. Dust them with a hint of salt.
5. Bake for 5 minutes in a pre-heated 220 degrees C oven.
Presto change-o! You have transformed your kagami mochi into arare senbei! Now all you need is some green tea, a couple of mikans just for variety, and a friend to nibble them with.
Time to Break a Mirror (5)
So, how do you go from the one on the left to the one on the right? You can find out in the next post.
Time to Break a Mirror (4)
This is kagami mochi transformed into arare senbei. Arare senbei are very good to eat, the Japanese answer to popcorn.
Time to Break a Mirror (2)
When the kagami mochi goes on display, it is smooth and looks a little like bread dough before it rises. By January 11, it has lost its youthful freshness and developed serious cracks and crevices. This is good, because it makes the "mirror" so much easier to smash.
In my house, the mound of kagami mochi gets wrapped in a towel and smacked with a meat hammer.
Then what? You'll see in the next post.
In my house, the mound of kagami mochi gets wrapped in a towel and smacked with a meat hammer.
Then what? You'll see in the next post.
Time to Break a Mirror
One of the traditional New Year items on display somewhere in the house until January 11 is called kagami mochi. Mochi is boiled rice that has been pounded into something resembling Playdoh, and kagami means mirror. Disks of kagami mochi are piled onto each other in descending order of diameter and festooned with various edible seaweeds to make the display.
Trust me, it does look nice topped off with a tiny, orange mikan.
Unlike holiday decorations in other countries, there is a specific date to remove the kagami mochi display, and that day is January 11. Then what happens? You'll see in the next post.
Trust me, it does look nice topped off with a tiny, orange mikan.
Unlike holiday decorations in other countries, there is a specific date to remove the kagami mochi display, and that day is January 11. Then what happens? You'll see in the next post.
2011年1月11日火曜日
Kimono Time
January 10 was a national holiday in honor of everyone who will become 20 years old this year. That's about 1,240,000 new voters and new drinkers who will officially be considered adults by the end of 2011. All around Japan, events were held to mark the day and remind everyone that adulthood brings responsibilities along with privileges.
Speaking of privileges, there is one special privilege given to young women in this demographic: the "furisode" kimono! This is the one with the long, trailing sleeves that is an explosion of color tied up in back with an obi knotted to look like butterfly wings.
Women only get to wear this style from after high school until marriage. Like youth itself, the "furisode" kimono offers only a brief window of opportunity.
Speaking of privileges, there is one special privilege given to young women in this demographic: the "furisode" kimono! This is the one with the long, trailing sleeves that is an explosion of color tied up in back with an obi knotted to look like butterfly wings.
Women only get to wear this style from after high school until marriage. Like youth itself, the "furisode" kimono offers only a brief window of opportunity.
2011年1月3日月曜日
New Year Food
Once upon a time, Japan closed down almost entirely for the duration of the New Year holidays. Partly because January 1 was a day of rest (and partly because firefighters, too, needed a rest) it was out of the question to light a fire, even for cooking. So, New Year food was invented. It kept well, and it was ready to eat with no further cooking.
Even today, the traditional foods of "o-sechi-ryori" are still eaten on New Year's Day, served in lovely lacquerware boxes.
Even today, the traditional foods of "o-sechi-ryori" are still eaten on New Year's Day, served in lovely lacquerware boxes.
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