Every now and then in the evening, when I think the mosquitos of Kochi haven't had enough to eat, I go out for a walk. Here's a photo from last night of the bridge a couple of blocks from my house. The river is the Kagamigawa (Mirror River).
Last night around one, just as I was turning down the covers, Mana called to me from the balcony. She was going to give a talk at an elementary school in the morning--could I come? Thursday is a work day for me, so of course the answer was yes. Unfortunately the next thing she said was "Let's leave at 7." Ouch.
Anyway, the next morning, Mana and the peace museum director and I set out for Aki, a small town about one hour by car from Kochi. The drive alone turned out to be well worth waking up early. On the way, we passed through a lovely wide plain, full of the biggest rice fields I've seen yet (about half the size of the average SK wheat field), and in the back seat I had an excellent view of Kochi's hills fading into the distance. We drove along the coast for a little ways, too, and it was a really nice view as the Pacific Ocean goes. The elementary school we were bound for was even more charming. Aki is a hilly area, and it was a cloudy day, the kind of clouds that are lower than the hills. The school is right next to some rice fields, and the view through two of the school's buildings to brilliantly green rice fields to misty mountains was wonderful. (Alas, no photos.)
But that's not the good part! Mana was giving a lecture about Grass Roots House and about peace to the grade four, five, and six students. We arrived half an hour early, and watched the entire school in an assembly. The school had recently made about 3000 paper cranes, which were arranged in strings and hanging on the stage. To open the assembly, they sang a beautiful little song about peace. (I'll post the lyrics in English here some time soon, I hope.) Then the principal spoke, and after that one student from each grade showed a piece of calligraphy they had done and read it aloud. They were simple child statements like "War is bad," but I was incredibly impressed by the fact that these kids, from age five or six, were already thinking about serious world issues. Can we say the same in Canada?
I think Japan has a really bad rep for its history curriculum--war crimes are not in textbooks, things like that. Today I really saw another side. Of course, I don't know what is or isn't in the textbooks, but Canadian elementary school history textbooks lie, too, both by omission and in flat out untruths. I think it's amazing that Japanese schoolchildren talk about how important peace is in school, that they hear about things like Article 9.
At least as far as I recall, I didn't hear about doing our part to make peace in the world in school except on Rememberance Day. (Please tell me I'm wrong!) But clearly here, it doesn't take a national holiday to bring up this topic, and they ask that their first grade students speak up about it, not just lay a wreath. There is a Peace Tanabata Festival coming up in July, but it wasn't a holiday today. (In fact, isn't that more amazing? There's a local yearly festival here that's about peace. More on that in July.)
I had a chance to say something to the grade four five and sixes, and while I was scared out of my pants that I would make a grade three level grammatical mistake, I told them that this experience they were having was incredibly valuable, that not everyone in the world hears this kind of conversation in elementary school and that they should feel very lucky to have access to it, and do their best to think hard about what they were learning. (Much less eloquently, because hey, Japanese is hard.)
Mana tells me that this kind of assembly and conversation used to be common practice in Japan, but that it is becoming more rare. I say, good job to the schools that are continuing it--and may it spread, not shrink.
Today I went to a festival of sorts in the park in downtown Kochi. A gigantic okonomiyaki was being made. Okonomiyaki is best translated into English as Japanese pancake, but it's full of cabbage and such and topped with sour-ish sauce, mayonnaise, seaweed, and dried fish flakes--not breakfasty at all.
This huge okonomiyaki was being eaten in the park as well, but I wasn't patient enough to stand in line in the rain... I just took photos of the cooking and went on my way.
I cooked something which may resemble Japanese food last week.
On my first Saturday in Kochi, Mana took me to the local farmer's market. In one booth, I saw what I thought was a bag of yuzu (a type of citrus fruit). I approached with intention to buy it, but the farmer whose booth it was explained that it was ゆずのかわ--yuzu skin. (You can eat the skin.) He then explained that you could make something with yuzu skin, and gave me a sample of such a thing. He also, I think, explained how to make it. I only caught a few words, but I since the bag of yuzu skins was only 100 yen, I figured I would give it a shot.
The words I caught were shoyu, which is soy sauce, and katsuobushi, which is dried flaked bonito--bonito being a fish for which Kochi is famous. I also understood his explanation that you only needed to take the seeds out of the bag of yuzu skins. So, I removed the seeds, chopped the skin up, and threw it in a pot with katsuobushi and soy sauce, and this is what I ended up with. I don't think I got the proportions right, and maybe I missed something--it doesn't taste like the sample the farmer gave me. So I won't post a recipe or anything. But it was an interesting experiment, and the result is not bad!
I spent May 28th in Tokyo, on my way back to Kochi from Korea. In the afternoon, I met up with Aya and Kiyo for coffee and karaoke (and shochu, to go with the karaoke--yes! shochu at 2pm!). But before that, I had a few hours to kill. I decided to seek out a mytical Tokyo location...
(no, not the store that sells only things people have lost on the subway, though I'm determined to look for that one next time)
...the book district. The area is called Jimbocho. I forget where I heard about it first--maybe a tourist web page, or maybe a secret meeting of book-lovers on a mysteriously ill-lit streetcorner late at night.
I didn't have much time, so I only walked for a couple of blocks, but on one side of the street, it was ALMOST ALL BOOKSTORES. Imagine the pain--all of those books, but almost nothing I could take home and read! It's for the best, really. I don't need a suitcase full of books (although I certainly do want one).
I actually ended up buying an electronic dictionary. I went into a shop selling stationery, and right inside the door, discounted electronic dictionaries. I had just been into a bookstore, where I found a Japanese-English kanji dictionary--a huge tome worth about $80, which looked like it might take a week or two to learn to use. I also checked out the Japanese kanji dictionaries, and they just looked scary. The electronic dictionaries suddenly looked much more appealing. Plus, mine is pink.
I would have a whole bunch more voyeuristic bookshop photos to show for my book district experience, except that it was raining. Next time in Tokyo, I'll have to go back... perhaps I'll find a bookstore with a good English novel section. And I should really buy some souvenirs...
