Pornified

How pornified is Japan exactly? The more I explore the question, the more uncomfortable and awful the answer is.

This is a country where its completely socially acceptable for men to peruse pornography while on their morning commute to work on the train. This is a country where it is actually “acceptable” to have possession of child porn. This is a country that has a magazine that brags “14! our youngest cover model yet!” This is a country where getting justice as a rape victim is basically unheard of. Japan and Russia have similar rules about child pornography that they are under a lot of international pressure to change. Thus far it has not happened.

I have been reading about these things because I have read pieces here and there and started to also read about human trafficking. And surprise surprise, porn, prostitution, and rape are all tied closely together.

On Saturday my family and I braved the crowds (and OH the crowds of Tokyo on the weekend!) and ventured to Ikea and Costco. Costco is our biweekly sojourn, Ikea less often. Ikea is set up in a fashion that winds you through different areas of your house that you might like furniture for, its enormous of course and you end up going in a zig zag pattern. They always present everything so comfortably and one is encouraged to rest on whatever perks your interest. I wandered into a “bedroom” scene to look a bit closer at the bed and looked at the nightstand. Sitting on the nightstand was a copy of Playboy. I think I blinked a few times to see if my eyes were deceiving me or not. It was not a naked woman on the cover, it was seemingly innocuous man playing golf. (as you can see from my picture). I picked it up and looked around, feeling almost guilty as I did so. It was the Japanese version, and when I opened it I was flashed a time or two, though I didn’t want to look too closely.

I went to find a manager, but I did take a picture because I was sure no one would believe me that I found a copy of Playboy sitting on a table in Ikea. This is the kind of crap you can’t make up.
I brought it to the manager:
“I just wanted to let you know that I found this on one of your displays”
“Okay, thank you.” (I felt like she wasn’t showing enough HORRIFIEDNESS for lack of a better made up word)
“why was it there?”
“A costumer must have left it there”
“well it was just sitting there on display, out in the open”
“yes and thank you,”
“Ummm yeah its a PLAYBOY” (at this point she started to get a bit flustered)
“yes and I am going to just toss it out as soon as I get the chance”
“okay good, but that still doesn’t answer why it was just sitting out on “display” in the first place.”

The exchange was awkward and a bit muted. I am not sure what to think. Was it a weird cultural thing? I can’t help but wonder that Japan is so pornified that no one even NOTICED it was a Playboy magazine sitting out in the open. I have no clue how long it had been sitting there, no idea if someone else had seen it, or someone had assumed that it was the store’s brilliant idea to have what is still technically a soft pornography magazine out in the open for anyone to see.

There are a lot of crappy things that go along with a pornified society. Women are dehumanized to the point that if you are on a visa and you over stay, and you are a hostess in a bar and you are raped, well its your fault. And you won’t see justice.

On the train they have women only cars because women are tired of being groped on their way to work. This was something I read about until today ironically. I was walking down a busy pedestrian road reading my magazine when this man was basically right in front of me. I shuffled to the side a bit, there was enough space around the both of us that he did not have to touch me at all, as soon as I passed him I felt a hand on my butt. I was kind of shocked and I turned around to look at him, unsure whether it was intentional or not to see him walking nonchalantly away. as though grabbing a womans ass was an every day occurrence that nothing could be done about. I wish I could say that I yelled ASS HOLE to him or something, but I forgot myself for a few moments.

My current plan is to see what can be accomplished about getting the laws changed to make the possession of child porn illegal, not just its distribution or its making. from what I have read, Japan is major breeding grounds for it and its gotten progressively worse as it seems as though nothing is being done to stop it.

My very bizarre night (or Candices weird second sight experience)

As I was going to bed last night, the wind starting picking up and I knew it was likely going to be quite a noisy night.  In Tokyo, shutters are the norm, and used for, I assume, blocking out rain during typhoons and things.  in my house we use them mostly as sunlight blockers, as they do not observe daylight savings time and in the summer a 4AM wake up from the sun is a bit too much for me and for Doug.  Kalista is, as we call it, run by the sun.   she is awake and asking us for Beckfast at 5am.  its all right in the winter, but in the summer it stinks.

anyway, I digress.  So today here is the First Official Day of Spring.  and true to its name, it was quite pleasant out. but ushering the day in was a VERY WEIRD NIGHT.  I had stuffed clothes into the shutters, between the shutter and the window to prevent the banging which is very prevalent when there are strong winds. The bedrooms are on the second floor and I tend to think its even noisier there as there is no buffer from other buildings.  Anyway, I thought I was prepared for this, but at 245am I found myself woken up by Kai, who sleeps next to me, asking for his nocturnal night nursing (fine by me by the way) and I rolled over to feed him and found myself listening to the banging against the wall.  the shutter was being incredibly noisy.  so I basically did not sleep at all. I laid there, trying my best, but if that house hadn’t been standing for 20 years I was starting to doubt its ability to withstand this kind of beating. I could also feel it swaying, as Tokyo all buildings have a certain amount of “sway” built in them for earthquakes you see.  in fact, didyou know we had a 5.6 earthquake 50 miles from here last Sunday? I thought not.  but we did and that is the kind that flattened Haiti like a pancake.

So I lay there trying to figure out if it was just the noise from outside that was keeping me up or my own fear that was not allowing me to sleep.  Basic fear.  the kind of fear that is primal and basically has allowed humanity to survive.  without this kind of fear, we’d likely not be here.  so no matter how I tried to rationalise the feeling away, that everything was fine, that the house would stand, etc, etc, I still found myself struggling to sleep. At times like this I will go outside and bring in whatever is also plaguing me, like laundry. I knew I had left it out, so since I was all ready WIDE awake, I got out of bed and pulled the laundry inside.  Good thing to, because shortly after it started to rain.  And then I went to the front door and brought my strollers in, which had also been outside overnight.  I felt like I was in a bad movie.  the wind was literally howling.  I have heard wind blow, but I think only once or twice I had it heard it howl.  and it was like it was getting caught between the buildings. I wished I had taken a recording, because it also felt creepy.  At this point it was about 4am or so, and it was that time of the day where it was not yet dawn, but not totally dark either.  I went inside and stuffed another piece of clothes in the shutter and that seemed to help.  at 547am Kiera showed up, saying that the wind outside was very scary.  Kalista and Kiera cuddled in bed and “whispered” to themselves.  soon they left and went downstairs, as is par for the course.  generally they are well behaved, they get themselves breakfast and watch tv.

at about 7am I woke up from a dead sleep because  I heard a scream from downstairs.  the kind of scream that is every mothers worst nightmare.  the voice of Kiera was petrified and I thought I was tearing down the stairs to blood or missing limbs or joints.  I got downstairs with two angelic children eating their breakfast as they do every morning, wondering why I was in such a panic.  Obviously I was relieved and now was WIDE AWAKE for the day.  I went to church and told a few people about how I woke up to this scary dream, and told a friend that I had expected to have blood or missing fingers or something.

I went out after church came home and the girls were playing upstairs and I am currently going through clothes to donate, give away, etc.  I was thinking about my dream again, and how actually thinking about how I still had a bad feeling that just wasn’t going away.  I had no idea why I was feeling that way.  my au pair was taking off, and she placed Kai in the entrance, well about a foot away from the door to the living room. (In Japan everything is partitioned for heating purposes)  Kai can’t crawl yet, he just scoots on his butt at a very slow pace.  I ran upstairs to collect more clothes to sort and give away.  the girls went downstairs when all of the sudden I heard a scream of pain and I ran downstairs to find Kai screaming his brains off in the hallway, now much closer to the door. Kalista had slammed his fingers in the door (maybe it was a payback because she once had her fingers slammed in the door as well).  he was holding his hand and I could clearly see the line on his little fingers.  I was distraught and yet processing it all at the same time.  Kai was all right, in fact he is happily hanging out in his high chair having a cookie right now, but I realised that my dream had basically come true.

I am a strong believer in intuition, and I have found answers to questions if I shut up my logical brain and listen to myself.  but that takes work. I wonder if because my “primal brain” was in over drive, that I dreamt it?  that is the only “explanation” I can think of.

Weird eh?

Obento/Bento Oboxes

So a huge part of yochien is Obento boxes. A few years ago on a mothering board that I am a member of, there was a huge surge of interest in Bento. I didn’t pay much attention, frankly I probably should have! the knowledge would have probably come in handy.

First off, I am amazed at the cost of a bento box. I have to purchase: the actual box, the silverware/cutlery, another small box for a bit more food, a cup, a handtowel for drying little hands after bathroom use (this often matches the Bento box) and the bag for which all of this to reside in. It doesn’t sound like it should be costly right? Wrong. All of these items total around $40US. Granted, I did buy “brand name” ones, I bought Sugarbunnies and Disney Princess ones, but the “mark up” on such items was maybe 10%, so it wasn’t a significant factor in cost.

If I was a typical Japanese mother, I would cluck over this food and make sure its presentation was beautiful the four times a week I needed to prepare it. Had I not gone to the international school last year as a teacher for a brief stint, I would have stayed in blessed ignorance of all things that is assumed by Japanese schools that your child is required to have. I knew about the cup, and about the towel, but the rest of it would have surprised me. the sheer quantity is overwhelming and I stood here literally doing circles while trying to discern what was a “need” versus a “want” in the world of Bento.

now since I am a western mom who has no clue in the art of lunch making, my kids obento looks like this: rice on the bottom, and then last nights dinner on the top. so usually chicken, with a veggie accompanying it. I am hopeless at artfully arranging anything.    Kiera has often expressed her annoyance with my lack of ability to make things “pretty”, even though I do try!  I have purchased a Mickey face, which I have pressed onto an apple and placed it in her dessert box.  I have rolled rice.  I have put rice into the shape of sugar bunny ears.  What kills me is she comes home STARVING because these itty bitty boxes do not match a girl with a teenage boys appetite.

This is the Bento aisle at the big Seiyu down the train line.  the first time I got there I called my friend Rebecca, literally dizzy at spinning around in the aisle from all the choice I had.  Overwhelmed with how much was there and just what I was suppose to get.  Its crazy.  And my Bentos continue to be stuffed to the gills with food and not arranged in a very pretty manner.  but at least its in the right box!

The Story Behind the Picture

This is my daughter at Christmas in her program at yo chien. Its cute right? I went and it was super adorable. She is in the middle class and is the tallest girl by almost a head. I did take photos, but this one was given to me by another mother in class.

Why you ask? Well let me tell you the story.

I don’t think anyone in the world matches the organization and dedication of the Japanese housewife. Like no one. From the moment their child is born (if not before) they are impeccably organised. Their diaper bag will bring forth any possible thing you can think of, any situation you could imagine, they would be prepared for. Their floors you could eat off. One time I lent a set of clothes to Kiera’s friend and I swear to God THE NEXT DAY I got them back, PRESSED AND DRY. It was shocking. I mean, most Japanese people don’t even own dryers, how on EARTH did this woman borrow these clothes and get them back to me DRY in less than 24 hours??

but I digress. I just wanted to paint the picture of just what I am up against.

I think, for the most part I am a competent mother. I am not super mom. I like to bake. I like to cook. But I am not super motivated at keeping my house clean. When I was in the US, I could at least read the hand outs from preschool, and have the ability to speak to the teachers. Well I don’t have that here. and on a regular basis I look like an idiot. I think its a prejudice we all have. I come from a country of immigrants and I know I assume often that people who don’t speak English are less intelligent than me. May or may not be true, but it certainly doesn’t help in attitudes. anyway, I get it all the time. I look like an idiot. I am treated like an idiot. Sometimes it works in my favour.

There is this teacher, who isn’t actually my childs teacher, who has been with the yo chien for 5 years (I THINK!!), which I guess is surpassing a mark. and every mother is suppose to write something nice about the teacher (whom I have had awkward stumbling conversations with at best) on this nice little piece of paper that they’ve taken from a book that can be put back. So they give this to me, and I halfheartedly take it and accidentally “leave it” at school. that isn’t gonna work! no no, the next day they track me down and give it to me and remind me its suppose to be done soon! cough cough.

So I went on Wednesday and I saw some women handing in their little cards, and I get cornered
“Mrs P—-” (I am not overly fond of being referred to by a title that I save for my MIL, but I let Japanese people get away with it)
“yes”
“do you have your card ready? we need it by the 19th at the latest”

and yes I am completely paraphrasing here. most of my conversations are actually one or two words haltingly put together by me or the other party. with my basically non existant Japanese and their limited English, me and the others mothers make quite the pairs.

So I tell them that in fact my card is not done and my biggest issue is that I have no pictures of my child. too bad. so sad.

and its true. I have no printed pictures of Kiera. or very few. When I am at home, I can jump on Walgreens . com and send my photos off to a lab to get picked up an hour later if I so desire. well here I have no idea where to go. yes I have a printer, which currently is low on ink not to mention the fact that I have no clue where to buy paper to print pictures on. so all of this drama to print ONE PHOTO. its ridiculous. I have no idea how Japanese mothers do it. I should ask. oh yeah, I DID, and they couldn’t give me an answer. the whole language barrier thing kicking my ass again.

“well we can get you one!”

“oh, GREAT!” cough cough.

and true to the Japanese housewife’s word, the next day I am handed not one but TWO photos of my darling daughter in her angel costume (which by the way is a story for another day. my darling daughter caused damage to said costume, which made the owner of the costume cry and throw a fit. I didn’t even notice. some threads had some out near the center. I had washed and pressed it. I was suppose to get it DRY CLEANED apparently. my name is mud at yo chien I tell ya, mud)

so, I am debating whether or not to confess that in fact I have TOTALLY LOST the paper on which I was suppose to write these lovely words of encouragement/congratulations for this teachers, or my other option is to cut down a larger piece of paper that someone can just stick into the book, which won’t look quite as pretty. but again, I look like the scattered, disorganised, gaijin, idiot mother that I am

Adventures in Unitarianism

I should say that Doug came up with that title.

so, this is a post about religion. Given the nature of the topic, I am most likely going to offend *someone* by what I say or what I don’t say or what I did or what have you. As everyone knows, politics and religion are topics best avoided in polite conversation unless you know everyone at the table agrees with you! Or you have such a relationship that can handle an interesting discussion every once and a while.

So that is my disclaimer. if this topic offends you then STOP READING right now, for your own good.

Onto the meat.

so yesterday in Japan Shichigosan holiday in Japan. This is a festival that celebrates Coming of Age for 3, 5 and 7 year olds. Last year I realised that my girls would fall perfectly on such dates for this year and thought it would be fun to do the traditional “stuff” that goes along with it. I will only have small children once right? Here is a link on Wiki to a brief description : http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shichigosan

Kiera’s yochien offered to do a blessing instead at her school (it happens to be a Christian school), as they discourage their students from going to shrines for this occasion. I thought that would be a perfect compromise for our family, Kiera could still dress up in the traditional Kimono, but we wouldn’t be visiting a shrine to be blessed or what have you. I am not very familiar with the tenants, or lack thereof of Shintoism, but I am pretty sure it doesn’t line up with my frankly, pretty traditional Christian beliefs.

Anyway, we went to church that morning and the night before had stumbled upon a woman who is actually one of the few foreign women to be certified in how to properly wear a Kimono. yes, there are classes you must take and certification to be able to offer such a service. for 7 year olds, its the first year they wear a kimono with OBI ( a very elaborate bow on the back of the dress) and its quite complicated to even tie it. Sheila (the woman who is a certified dresser as well as designer of fabrics for kimono) had us drop by her house on Saturday evening to chose one for Kiera and discuss our plan of action. we were allowed to just rent the kimono, but after considering all my options, of just how complicated it was to do it, I decided to hire Sheila for the job. She loaned us a beautiful antique red kimono, from the 1930′s. It has a crane, which signifies long life. it was pretty cool. She was dressed as a 3 year old, because girls are technically 3 and 7, and boys are 5. but we broke the rules a bit.
we had borrowed another kimono from our friend, which was a dark navy and we could tell not as expensive or well made, but since it was Kiera’s “big day”, it wasn’t a big deal.

So after the service at church Sheila dressed Kiera, we had neglected to bring her Japanese sandals, so she wore her western shoes until we got home. We took the train in an effort to beat Doug home who was driving. that didn’t work. we got to the ceremony with no minutes to spare, and found only Kiera and Kalista dressed in the traditional attire. apparently this stressed Kiera out to find none of her classmates and the only one in Kimono was herself.
The “ceremony” was only 40 minutes and all conducted in Japanese of course, which left me out in the cold, though the director was nice enough to translate for me as the minister spoke. He talked about how God sees a sparrow fall to the ground and cares even for the least of these, and how much more important children are to Him. I have always appreciated Christianity’s teaching on children, though I do think that it took a while for Christianity to embrace the idea that children are their own people (a book recommendation on this is “When Children Became People”). I am not sure if the celebration of Shintoism has more to do with “you survived until 3! lets party!” or what. boys have been known to be more vulnerable to disease, etc, so maybe that is why the age is 5 instead. entirely speculation on my part.

As you can see from the photos, the session at the end did not end well as Kiera was internally freaking out from all of the attention she was getting standing in front of a large crowd.
For their gift, the children received a bulb for a plant that should bloom around Easter, now if only i have somewhere to plant it! I will try and figure something out.

After the service was over, Doug mentioned to the principal that we would like to take some photos at a shrine, seeing as the girls were in their “get up” and it seemed like a cool thing to do. The principal whispered conspiratorially the known address of the closest shrine to our location. We found it with some help from GPS and from a convenience store worker who pointed us in the right direction.

In Japan its common to say that one is Shinto and Buddhist and these are not seen to be at odds with one another. Since our experience yesterday I have done further reading and it seems as though Shintoism is for “life” experiences, such as coming of age things and Buddhism is used for after death things, such as burials and ancestor worship. here is a link to read about Shintoism: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Shinto

We arrived at the Shrine only to find it open, which was highly unusual as Doug nor his brother nor his brothers wife who have lived in Japan for a long time, had ever seen it actually opened. I suppose that is in no small part due to that fact that they are missionary kids and for some reason going to a shrine on a celebratory holiday was probably not HIGH on the list of things to do while growing up in Japan. We went inside, shoes removed of course, to find a couple of older Japanese women, as well as a younger one (who we are only GUESSING is a priestess, though we cannot confirm), as she performed the ritual.

Yes, my children were accidentally blessed by a Shinto priestess. ( I am hearing the collective gasp of horror from some of my readers, and the scoffing of such gasps from some other readers, which is why I included a disclaimer at the beginning of the post).

When I got in the door with Kalista I was immediately accosted as the re-did Kalista’s kimono. I had to do that one myself, which was not very hard, but I had to “shrink” it to fit her height and I PUT IT ON THE WRONG WAY. how, you ask? well, I put it on the way you put it on a DEAD person. seriously.

what a dumb gijin I am.

After Kalista had been PROPERLY dressed, we all sat down for the ceremony. I of course, had no idea what was being said, but I quickly began to piece together that they were in fact doing a blessing for Kiera and Kalista. Doug said the words were something like “a long life, full of health, a year of good fortune” etc etc. He said it sounded extremely similar to the prayer said at the Japanese church we had been to an hour earlier. and then she pulled out this broom type thingy and did this thing over their heads.
it was pretty short, and we started filing out and as we did so, they handed Kiera and Kalista a notebook. and I saw this nice little envelope sitting there, which even in my dumb gijin state, I knew was ear marked for $$$. I said to Doug, “they want money right?” and they did, they wanted 5000 yen to be precise, that was the “suggested donation” or not to suggested. Doug used the dumb gijin card, which was ACTUALLY TRUE in this case. The Japanese tend to think we are kind of dumb about things, which works in our favour about a lot of things, and is most useful when we don’t do things exactly they way they are to be done. Like wrapping little girls dead style kimonos for example. but in this case, we truly DIDN’T know that there would be a charge, or that there would even be a ceremony. we just went to TAKE PICTURES.

So I left Doug to deal with the irritated lady while I started to walk back to the car. He came out shortly after and told me he was let off THIS TIME, but we are suppose to bring her back for her 7th bday and pay FULL PRICE at that time. phew. close call.

After that we headed over to the Buddhist temple and took some pictures in the lovely gardens where a lady started to give us dirty looks for who knows what reason. we truly don’t know, we were never approached but left shortly there after.

So that is the story. In one day our children managed to be blessed in two Christian churches in the morning, a shinto shrine in the afternoon and a stroll through a Buddhist temple…..
tea anyone?

 

Laundry in Japan

I was chatting with one of my friends online today and I was describing to her my laundry situation. She was having trouble envisioning what I was describing. so I am going to take some pictures.

Laundry is a pain generally, no matter what culture you live in. and really, I think my kids and I own too many clothes. In fact today I plan a purge of all things that have not been used/worn/looked at since we have moved here. I am not sure if that is fair exactly, since I have been pregnant almost the entire time I have been in Japan. but seriously, I wear so little of it that its time to purge.
I don’t have a dryer. everyone knows that laundry is a 5 step process, here it is mapped out:
1) collect laundry. this can be challenging if its not done on a daily basis. I look in my laundry room (which I am SUPER LUCKY to have btw) and see no laundry and think I am all caught up. Only to find a mountain of clothes hiding somewhere in the girls room or my husband has come home from work and dumped a bunch out from his 3 day trips that I was unaware of.
2) sort and wash. easy enough. but first of course you must treat any potential stains, make sure the water temp is right, etc. I am lucky, in Japan I actually have HOT WATER for my laundry. its only because we are hooked up next to a sink, which I chose instead of the actual hook up on the wall, but it stays the same temp the whole time.
3) Hang laundry up. depending on the weather, I will hang outside or inside. when I have thought that there would be no rain, I have had to jump up in the middle of the night to rescue my laundry from getting resoaked while it hung outside. yep. literally in the middle of the night.
4) fold clothes, again not to difficult, I try and do it in front of the TV and do it mindlessly…
5) PUT CLOTHES AWAY. this is what I suck at. though I figure its better to have things clean and folded, this final step always escapes me. we are always going through the clean clothes hamper, or let me be really honest, taking it off the hook.

But let me give you a visual of just why laundry is such a massive struggle for me.  Because my laundry room is 2 ft by 4 ft, I can’t hang it up there.  when its pouring outside (typhoon coming today) I have to hang it inside.  and each night you gamble if you do leave it outside because more than once I have been caught in the middle of the night running downstairs frantically taking in laundry that had been left outside to “dry”.  when its not “suppose” to rain that night.  the last typhoon I washed “big items” like a comforter, and it was ohsoclose to being dry until the rain hit and soaked it and I had to rewash the whole damn thing.

One thing that drives me NUTS is that my living room functions basically as my laundry room.  my pole sits outside, but I end up putting it on the curtain rod so it continues to dry.  not a lot of sunshine, and the clothes quickly accumulate.  there is no fast easy way to do laundry here unless I take it to the laundromat and pay 100 yen per 10 minutes of drying.  geepers, if only Doug and I could get that at our mat

so here is a visual of laundry at my house.  I feel sorry for me.  5 people’s laundry I am responsible for…

So this is my laundry “room”.  also the back door, last stop before garbage heads out the door.  its very small, its also a partial storage room for the dog food and other misc that ends up there. I would love to finish out my laundry today, but alas, I have used up all four of my hangers and its raining so I need to take a break until things are dry.  hopefully tomorrow. I do also cloth diaper, which is a bit challenging when its raining.  but usually they are dry within 24 hours if its not raining, pretty decent for just hang drying.  and it preserves my diapers for long by not using a dryer.

I have no idea how to flip pictures the right way on this thing…sorry….

Mothering in Japan

Comes with its own set of quirks and weirdness. so I decided to dedicate a blog to it.  and have my own musings about mothering in general.

This is my day thus far.  I have to rise, feed the 3 children of mine, one of which is still fed from my body so that makes him easy. but I must prepare lunch for my older two, one of whom goes to yochien the other who goes to preschool.  Yochien is kindergarten in Japan.  It requires a uniform, which cost me 400US, and I didn’t even buy the “summer” uniform because it was an additional $200US and she didn’t need it because she was going to be starting October 1st, the official change over day to fall type clothes.  Even if its 25C.  seriously.  All of the handouts are in Japanese, which the principal attempts to translate for me before giving it to me.  My other, who is 3, goes to international preschool where English is spoken, but most of the handouts are still in Japanese as that is the primary language used to communicate with the parents.

So today I picked up my daughter at 2pm on the dot, you must be precise in Japan, to find my distraught child crying about losing her finger splint from a previous accident.  You think having your child be injured or sick in an English speaking country is a pain?  Try a land where you are functionally illiterate and also can’t speak the language either.  It’s a barrel of laughs I tell ya. I assured her she was NOT in trouble, she had kept track of this one for a record 3 weeks and it was looking rather awful and we set off to find a doctor that we had spoken with, after the pediatrician and before the finger specialist ( I also like to point out here that I saw a finger specialist in 3 days in a socialised medicine country….just sayin…).   but the finger specialist spoke only Japanese, not to mention he was at a public hospital and it was going to be a large pain to get in there and communicate with anyone at that particular place.  so I opted instead for the other office which was small and I presumed they would remember me. They had offered me a blanket and a room to nurse my baby in the last time I was there, so I hadn’t forgotten them!

They did indeed remember me and MIRACULOUSLY they just handed me the splint I needed instead of wasting amazing amounts of time needing to explain my situation to the doctor. though I did use theatrics  describing HOW she lost her splint, which garnered a laugh from the all female staff.

After this we set off home and my daughter informs me that I am NOT allowed to send her rice every day for Bento. I need to send her PASTA two times a week. This is also in conjunction with their other rules, such as : no chocolate.  no dessert on Thursdays, which includes fruit of any kind. no bananas.  no yogurt.  no fork on Tuesday because that is the day they must practice their chopsticks. and now on top of this extensive list I must add PASTA for two days a week, regardless of what I am making the night before.  oh yes and I had to buy her a harmonica bag.

There is of course, a lot of pressure for my daughter to be like other children as much as possible, even though her white blond hair and tallness mark her as different from the beginning.  it is of course all in Japanese, which she is just now acquiring, though she is much better than me, obviously.

mothering has its challenges to be sure, but Japan is another set that I am still navigating.  stay tuned….

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