Sunday, September 15, 2013

We've (virtually) moved!

Adventures in Mission has served me/us well for a long time, but is is time to expand the blog. We have bought our own domain and expanded our blog to be not only bigger, but - hopefully - more relevant to our lives now.

Thank you for following first me, then us, on our adventures. We hope you continue to follow our adventures on our new website.

See you soon!

www.barbariansabroad.com

Monday, August 19, 2013

For want of frosting


One of the Turner children made this cupcake
before we came Japan. I don't remember who,
but it's the sort of cupcake I wanted today!

Have you ever thought to yourself, “Hey, I’ve got half a pan of brownies, and I’m craving chocolate. You know what would be good? A little frosting to go on those leftover brownies!” And then, because you just went to the baking supply store and bought cocoa a few hours earlier, you think, “Great! This is meant to be!”

And, because this is such an informal, not-using-a-recipe, throw-it-together moment, you don’t stop to think about the fact that you are out of milk, until you reach for it. You’re in your stay-at-home clothes, don’t want to change, and the weather is sweltering.... all of which seems like a lot of trouble just for some milk.

But, life’s good. You just bought coconut milk, and what’s life without a little experimentation? Besides, chocolate and coconut are heavenly. And you think, “I’ll improvise!”

So you throw open the cupboard door to see the coconut milk sitting on the highest shelf, about a foot out of reach, because your tall husband put it away. But he’s taking a nap. And the only chairs you own are swivel chairs on wheels. Not one or the other, but both. And you contemplate trying to climb on one to reach the coconut milk, but decide you’d probably just end up with something broken and no one has pity on a woman who broke her leg while climbing on a rolling swivel chair.

So you just take a brownie out of the pan and eat it.

What? You haven’t? Oh. Never mind.

By the way, does any one have a step ladder I can borrow?

Monday, August 12, 2013

What is Karinto Manju?

Karinto in a variety of shapes and flavours.
Karinto かりんとうis a sweet stick of deep-fried dough.
Manju 饅頭 is a sweet bean paste-filled dumpling.

When they collide, they become Karinto Manju. Obviously. Not a very original name, I admit. However, the deep-fried dumplings are very original in style.

This isn’t a very common snack. By that I mean, after living here a total of four years, I have heard of the more popular ones (such as manju or karinto), but this is the first time I have been introduced to Karinto Manju.

(Lest you think that last sentence is redundant, let me assure you that as someone who regularly forgets names and faces, I often introduce myself to people multiple times).

But, back to the sweets.
Momiji Manju,
a popular style of manju
from Miyajima.

It is, as the name suggests, a deep-fried dumpling. Manju are not my favourite Japanese snack (that term is reserved for anything with mochi in it). On the other hand, they are filled with sweet bean paste, and that forgives a multitude of sins.

I hope to learn how to make Japanese snacks, because the blog cannot do them justice. I feel like I am just giving you a photo and some random words: bean paste (what??), mochi (huh?), deep-fried dumplings (Okay, now we’re speaking the same language!).

The verdict on Karinto Manju: In my opinion, they are good, but not the best Japan has to offer. However, if you like deep-fried dough (and really, who doesn’t?), then I recommend trying them.


Thank you to wikimedia for use of the photos of Manju and Karinto.

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Sea Turtles in Hiwasa


While I like sea turtles, I have never been overly fascinated by them. They are interesting, but sea turtles are (as the name suggests) ocean-dwelling creatures. I’ve never been keen on oceans, what with oceans being so full of water.

Display showing five of the eight different types of sea turtle.
However, I am fascinated by the amazing story of the sea turtles’ lives: the mothers coming ashore to lay their eggs and the treacherous journey the hatchlings take back to the ocean. Sea turtles are graceful swimmers, and a delight to watch, from what I can remember from my terrified snorkelling attempt several years ago. Most vividly to me, though, they represent the ocean.

With these visions swimming in my brain, I arrived at the Sea Turtle Museum in Hiwasa, a town on the coast just south of Tokushima City. My co-worker Ikue took David and I out for a day of fun and learning.

We walked through the museum backwards, which means that we started our journey with the “What did you learn?” quiz. A score of 70% or higher awards a Doctor of Turtles certificate. A combined effort got us a score of 50%. For not yet having read the exhibit telling us how fast turtles can swim, I guess we did okay.

Ohama Beach
The museum overlooks a beach, a place where turtles come to shore every summer to lay their eggs. Today it is empty, but I imagine it full of loggerhead sea turtles. Turning around from the beach view, one faces the museum’s breeding tanks, filled with young turtles.

Out behind the main museum are more pools, both for sea turtles and non-sea turtles. The turtles are bigger than I anticipated: Inside an aquarium was a large, no - huge - turtle. It was utterly massive. I would love to show him (her?) to you. Unfortunately, I don’t have a picture of that one, because of - um - the shadows - yeah, that’s it. And the small windows and angle of where it was resting. Yeah, that’s why. It’s not because this gigantic turtle was in an aquarium with a tunnel of water above my head and turtles swimming over me, and me freaking out.


Once back outside in the sunlight and breathing easy, I grabbed my camera and took a truly preposterous number of photos. Luckily (for you), many did not turn out because the turtles were underwater or swimming or both.



Apparently, turtle food is usually available for people to dole out.
There wasn't any when we were there, but the turtles didn't know that.
Sea turtles are amazing animals. Whenever I see them, I am reminded how fragile our earth is. I am glad there is a museum like this - hopefully it will teach people to be more mindful of our oceans, to be careful how we treat the planet. Maybe the kids who visit here and have their pictures taken while sitting on the model (don’t worry, they don’t climb on a real turtle)  will one day grow up to be conservationists. Maybe they will remember the tunnel in the aquarium and say, “I am going to make sure my children have a chance to see turtles swimming over their heads, too. But in the ocean.”







Thursday, July 18, 2013

Vegetables galore!

I do not have anything intelligent to say about these picture. I just feel like sharing them because these tomatoes and peppers make me smile: They look so bright, cheerful, and fun. Enjoy!



I do not believe I've ever seen purple tomatoes.


These are worthy of tacos ... who's coming over for some veg-filled goodness?



Tomorrow I'll make eggplant bread.



Wednesday, July 17, 2013

The Summer Sweat Situation

I used to love summer. Summer was - at one time - my favourite season: The warmth of the sun, and the smell of wildflowers. The shimmer of sweat and a cool breeze. I didn't mind the occasional rivulet or the humidity. There was always some shade to cool off in, and humidity is very comforting, like being wrapped up with a blanket. I like blankets. The one year I spent in a dry climate, I felt so naked, without that blanket to keep me swaddled.

Then I moved to Tokushima, where summer begins around 3 April, and lasts until approximately 17 November. After that is autumn, and then spring. If I remember correctly, last year winter was on a Sunday morning.

Summer loses its appeal in such large doses. The humidity I love has betrayed me; it holds a damp blanket over my mouth making it hard to breathe, to move. The comforting sweat has become more than a shimmer, skipping rivulets completely, turning straight into floods, washing my neck ... my back... my legs. It drips from my hair onto the floor, like I’ve just stepped out of the shower.

Even all this is would be endurable, but for one small detail: When I arrive at work, I am supposed to be professional. How am I supposed to look (and smell) clean during such a summer? People take one look at me and think I’ve just had a workout at the gym. Which I suppose, I have, if you count God’s gym called nature.

I am greatly looking forward to summer vacation - not because I want to be off work, but so I can sweat with abandon!

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

The Third Annual Ferdinand* Awards

It’s that time again!

Last year saw the first public appearance of the Ferdinand Awards,** in which I poke fun at car model names. Since beginning this “contest” I find myself questioning every car name that comes to mind.

For example, the Chevy Spark? (Oh, please don’t catch on fire!)
Or perhaps the Ford Windstar? (what does that even mean?)
And then there’s the Subaru Outback, which is .... umm, how to say this nicely? ... A car named for a place where getting lost can end very badly. Makes me want to say, “Let’s go on a road trip ... in a Street!” (Honda).

In that spirit, I once again looked around Tokushima and chose my favourite car names for you.

The rules to win a Ferdinand:
1. I have to have seen the car, either driving or parked.
2. The name has to be interesting, noteworthy, or roast-worthy.

See last year’s winners here.

And the 2013 Winners are:

Best use of “Does What it Says on the Tin”: Move (Daihatsu)

Best use of limiting what a car can carry: Fun Cargo (Don’t put any boring stuff in this Toyota!)

Best use of food for a car name: Sambar (Subaru) I ate sambar every day for lunch in India, but I don’t remember it tasting like automotive parts!

Best use of a garden tool in a car name: Spade (Toyota)

Best use of X in a car name: Roox (Nissan)

Best “What does that mean?” name: Wingroad (Nissan).

Best almost tribute to an Australian animal: Kangoo (Renault)

Car that makes me think of Stephen Fry: iQ (Toyota). Maybe he can even customise it and reverse the letters.

Car voted least likely ever to be owned by me: Town Bee (Daihatsu)

Best overall winner: Swift (Suzuki)

**Father Ferdinand Verbiest, a Jesuit missionary to China, astronomer, mathematician, and inventor. Around the 1670s, he designed a steam-powered toy automobile, which some people claim is the oldest self-propelling vehicle.

**The first distribution of the awards were in a letter to a friend while I was living in Tokyo.

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Firefly Festival in Misato


Far from my childhood of running around the backyard with an empty dill pickle jar, I stood on the side of a road staring into the unreachable woods. Car headlights sporadically lit the trees while I stood amongst the blinking crowd. We were tourists, there only to see fireflies. And for a moment, we were swept back in our memories. Then another car passed, its headlights pulling us to reality once more.

In the mountains of Misato, in Yoshinogawa City.

It strikes me as strange: driving an hour into the moutains in order to stand at the side of the road for the mere glimpse of a lightening bug. The Japanese people I spoke with all said yes, they, too, caught lightening bugs as children. All I can do is wonder how. It isn't possible to catch them over the highway barrier that kept us from falling off the road into a ravine. Has Japan changed so much? Is this the only way to see lightening bugs in Japan - once a year standing across a chasm?

Car headlights lit the trees.


The thoughts are uncomfortable ... they naturally lead me back to my own past. They make me wonder if Iowa, too, has changed so much. Do children there still run around the backyard catching fireflies, or is there now a chasm at home? Maybe the chasm is in my memory. Are those hundreds of fireflies I remember simply the natural exagerration of a small child, to whom everything seems bigger?



Lightening bugs are beautiful and wondrous creatures. Seeing them last weekend made me smile - but it was not the same. Very little makes me miss Iowa summers, but Misato's Firefly Festival might do the trick.



Wednesday, May 22, 2013

A Year in the Life of a Field: May

It was the type of day one might call a harbinger ... sunny, warm, muggy... A day that promises summer is coming, and that it is coming very, very soon. All that promise at nine o'clock in the morning was a bit much, but it was a beautful day for photographing the fields.

By the time I arrived at my chosen fields, they were already decked out in rice sprouts. Rice in Tokushima is planted in April or May. These fields which were bare a month ago were planted during Golden Week (April 30 - May 5) I wish I had a photo of that for you, but I was on vacation, and didn't get back to them until they looked like this:

A quick look back shws me just how fast things grow here. Last month this field was empty, and a mere two months ago, this area was full of carrots and cabbage. Or lettuce. Or kale. Something leafy. I am not so knowledgeable on veggies. Hey, I eat them (sometimes) what more do you want?

Last Saturday I stood in front of the fields. It has only been a couple weeks since they were planted. The the rice is still small.

I am curious about these canopies off to the side. It isn't rice, but the plants are still a small green blur, so your guess is as good as mine. Except in the case of people who garden, then your guess is a lot better than mine.

The following field is not my normal field for pictures, but things were happening. I stopped to ask if I could photograph them. The woman is Hori San, and she was overseeing a couple different tractors out on that bright Saturday morning. I am guessing this is the ploughing stage. I went to work for the day, and by the time I came back through on Tuesday, the whole area was full of rice.

Here is the field being flooded. I hadn't ever seen this before. So interesting!

Earlier posts about this field:
January
Febraury
March
April

Wednesday, May 08, 2013

Finally: Sakura

Apparently I did not post picture of this year's cherry blossoms. Perhaps I was still a little bummed that the weekend of hanami, or "cherry blossom viewing", I was cooped up in a stuffy room at a seminar. But here they finally are: David's romp through the springtime blooms. It seems it was a beautiful day.


 










Sunday, May 05, 2013

One Year in the Life of a Tokushima Field: April

“Look! April photos!” I exclaim.
To which the world replies, “No Heather, this is May.”
“But - ” I whine, “I have so many photos from April to post.”

In all truth, I didn’t take the camera out much in April, although I did take it to Tokyo early in the month, which warrants its own post or seven. I also am trying to keep up my end of the bargain with the field project, which is proving to be a rather boring endeavour.

As I watch the field change (or not change), it occurs to me it is interesting in fits and starts.

On my way to work one fine day, the farmer was out in the field taking down the carrot coverings. It was fun to watch the progress. And I wondered, what if I turned around, went home, got the camera and came back .... What if? If I did that I would be late for work.

Let’s weigh this: Late for work ... interesting pictures ... hmmm ... my photos aren’t good enough to justify that.

Instead, I figured I would just bring the camera as soon as possible. he next day was not a good day to haul my camera around. By the time the day came when all the planets were aligned, I remembered the camera, the weather co-operated, I left in time to take pictures, and arrived at the field .... it was empty. Completely empty. Sigh.

Here is the field. Ta da! Once more smoothed and straight, ready for the next planting. If it is the same as last year, rice should be going in any day. Well, first water. I noticed that water goes into the field and sits for awhile before the rice is planted.

For the time being, we are left with this empty field. Waiting. And it is a delightful surprise to realise I can learn from this boring photo. At a time when I expected busyness, to only find stillness, capturing unseen preparations.

When I began thinking about the empty field, I expected my “lesson to be learned” would revolve around thinking ahead: always carrying my camera, making sure my lamp oil never runs dry, et cetera, et cetera. I expected to say I have learned to be hyper-vigilant, never relaxing, because opportunity is not a lengthy visitor.

However, maybe that isn’t the message here. With my blog, I most certainly am lazy. I most certainly should work a little harder to post entries. Yet the empty field reminds me of the necessary preparation needed to produce a healthy crop.

In the end, the message of this photo isn’t what I expected. April photos in May? Sigh. I am behind again. But I, with others, know that restful preparation balanced with work is the ideal.

I look at the empty field and remember that I need balance. What do you see in an empty field?

Earlier posts about this field:
January
Febraury
March

Thursday, April 04, 2013

Hiking to Kakurinji


Here's how the conversation began:

David: Do you want to go hiking with some friends?
Me: Sure (My brain's reasoning: Hiking is walking, and I like to walk).

Editing for content after the hike: Hiking is only like walking when I hike by myself. And then it's not actually hiking. It's just walking in a place where there happen to be trees.

After our successful Bizan hike (and I say successful in that we reached the top. It was less successful in that I couldn't walk for two days afterward), David and I agreed to hike a taller mountain. It's two Bizans tall, and has at the top Temple Number 20 of the 88 Temple Pilgrimage Route.

A group of six of us took a bus out to the base of Mt. Something or Other and began to walk.
We didn't all take a bus - our friend Todd biked out,
climbed the mountain, and then biked home again.

It was a long trek to the top, but there were some beautiful bamboo groves along the way. There was also a small shrine, toward the bottom of the mountain, but after it was really too late to turn back. I think it's the official, "What-have-I-gotten-myself-into?" shrine.


The "What-Have-I-Gotten-Myself-Into" Shrine

The gate at Temple 20


Stairs up to the main temple


Pilgrims




When we got to the top, we decided that was not so bad; let's keep going. 

Unfortunately, "Let's keep going" means:
1. Hike down the other side of the mountain.
2. Eat lunch
3. Realise it's too far to go see Temple 21 and get back in time to catch a bus home.
4. Hike back up to Temple 20.
5. Hike back down the mountain again to the bus stop.
6. Be unable walk for four days afterward.

  It was so much fun, but maybe I'm not quite ready for four Bizans in one day!



A sudachi grove
( I'm ready for sudachi season again!)

Saturday, March 30, 2013

Hiking, Part 1

Did anyone else notice the excess commas in the previous post? I do like commas, add them in whenever I feel like it, and overuse them. My friend, the comma. I should go back and fix that post ... but I probably won't.

That confession aside, it is time to finally post our hiking trips. In one month we went hiking three times: up Bizan twice and once out to Kakurinji, Temple Number 20. I don't have photos of our second trip up Bizan, but not much changed anyway. In fact, the photos of Bizan look a lot like the photos I took when David and I hiked it last summer. Fewer leaves on the trees perhaps, but all-in-all not very different.




Of course the group photo is different : )



We hiked Bizan on Hina Matsuri, the Doll Festival, also known as Girl's Day. At the foot of Bizan is a large building containing a tourist shop, a small theatre, art exhibition space, and the terminal for the rope way. When we arrived back down the mountain, we saw the posters for the Hina Matsuri exhibit. I am glad we decided to go in.

Displays can be several tiers, such as these, or smaller ones for the home containing only the top tier with the prince and princess. Each of the lower tiers represents a member of the royal court: musicians, sake distillers, soldiers, etc.





I can't find the official name for the hanging decorations. I think they might be called Tsurushi Bina and represent prayers of health for daughters. The dolls in the photos below were handmade by community members. The blue fabric is dyed using Tokushima indigo plants (also known as Awa indigo).



Whew! One hiking post finished. One more to go!