Wednesday, December 23, 2015

A Christmas in Japan

I went back & forth and back & forth on whether or not I should write this post. 

Would the audience accept a less quippy, Japanese-themed post in exchange for a more thoughtful, solemn essay? 
Would I lose readers because I went too deep?
Would it be offensively weighty?
But I trust you. I trust you to read if you like and pass if you don't. I won't insult your intelligence by assuming you can't make that choice. So if you've had enough of artsy-heartsy Christmas posts and you're just here for your dose of Japanese life, meet me here next week?

For now, I have this small corner of the internet and, if I may, I'd like to prop up a little Christmas tree here and turn on the lights. 

I've been celebrating Christmas in a different way this year than I ever have in the past. I'm usually surrounded by family and laughter and noise and music and movies. 
It's a bit quieter in Japan. We have the music some nights and I've watched 3 Christmas movies and trust me, WE LAUGH, but it's an altogether lower decibel Christmas this year.

The busy is missing and the hustle they sing about in the songs is easy to avoid when all your shopping is shipped before December 10th so it makes it by Christmas.

And the quiet, as it does if you let it, brings with it a small dose of reflection and an invitation to explore a little deeper. I accepted. And so in the corner by the tree, I'll share what's happening in this artsy-heart.

Christmas is a big event. Commercially. Personally. Relationally. 
Big marketing campaigns.
Big dinner plans.
Big lists (that must be checked twice).
Big story. The biggest story in the history of the world, if you believe what it says. And even if you don't, the claims of this story are certainly the biggest. A God of the universe becomes a baby...a tiny helpless human predicted to SAVE THE WORLD, conceived & born of a virgin...a teenage girl, who could've been stoned for betraying her betrothal vows. This baby then grows up living a perfect life and performs miracles of healing & immense power only to throw all the fame away to die by crucifixion with a promise to take away our sins and defeat DEATH in a death-defying rise from the grave 3 days afterward. 
I'm sorry...wha??

I'm not here to defend the claims of the Scripture that Jesus lived, died & rose again. There are lots of more qualified resources for that.  I'm just here to tell you how my belief in that big story is shaping my small life this quiet Christmas.

Several years ago, I read in a beautiful book by Sheldon Vanauken "Van" called A Severe Mercy (I could give this a full run-down and recommendation, but for sake of time & topic, suffice it to say that it's wonderful, so go read it) an auto-biographical story of Sheldon and his wife, Jean Davis "Davy", their love for each other and their friendship with C.S. Lewis that eventually culminated in a conversion to Christianity. The story-telling of this couple's love of & devotion to one another is breath-taking in its grandeur and simultaneous simplicity. It's not an imagined, romantic, Notebook-esque story, but it leaves you thinking, "I thought that only existed in the movies." It's that over-powering and enchanting. But it all boils down to glass of water.

In an explanation of the level of love and devotion they were willing to give each other, Van doesn't read us an oath they signed in blood or a grandiose vow to die for each other if needed, he tells us of a promise they made to always be willing to bring the other a glass of water. No matter what they were doing or what time of night, if one asked for a glass of water the other would bring it to them. 

How laughably little they promised each other. 

But don't you feel it? Don't you see the pristine example of selflessness this is? 
We are not often asked to jump in front of a bullet, to lay on the grenade, or to stop a speeding train, though our hearts, in the throes of love, shout that we would do any number of these and more if it were asked of us. It seems actually easier to promise that which we will, most likely, never have to do.

But what if the test of our love were a glass of water? Now that's dangerous. I might have to do that every day. I might have to show you my love as I promised it: With a daily relinquishing of my rights so you can have a glass of water. 

I can feel it in my heart now. The courage to help Oakie if he was in danger rises up in my chest as I sit on this couch imagining all the ways I save the day. It's just as real as the irritation I feel when I'm interrupted because he needs a favour. I'm embarrassed as I type. What if I'm the only selfish one that cringes when I hear that voice I love asking me to STOP WHAT I'M DOING AND HELP HIM? 
But, love, can't you see I'm reading? 
You don't understand, GILMORE GIRLS is on. 
No, but YOU'RE CLOSER. 
The ire I am capable of unleashing is better kept for a villain who threatens our lives, but aren't the tinges of it right there at the edges of my heart when he gets it wrong or misunderstands or forgets...again? Just me?

Stay with me; Christmas is around the corner.

So what is the root of that ire? That grating pain as I comply, but grumble?
Isn't it the pain of dying just a bit? Dying to my desires? Dying to my rights?
Could this be the version of dying for each other I've been given?

And isn't it just the smallest thing?

I'm here to tell you, I married a guy who excels at this kind of death; this kind of life.
He is so incredibly selfless, sometimes it hurts to be married to a guy so kind. 
Sometimes it shows in sharp relief the hurt I've dealt him with my sharp words and my knees buckle under the weight of my ingratitude. And I feel another small piece of myself die and be replaced with a fresh desire to love him like that. 

It happens when I say to him, "I'm really frustrated with you right now." 
When he didn't communicate and he DIDN'T TELL ME THE PLAN and I'm hungry and there was NO COFFEE this morning. 
And I turn my face to the window of the car so I don't have to see him extending his hand to hold mine; that way I could play it off as unseen instead of another unkindness. 
And he just says softly, "It's ok." 
And I add it to my ammunition to fire another round. It's ok? Gee, thanks for your permission to be frustrated but----- 
And just as the Proverbs say, his gentle answer turns away my anger. 
He didn't rear up to fight back. He didn't defend himself against my out-of-proportion annoyance. He didn't swing the spotlight around to show all of my wrongs. He just acknowledged it in gentle love. And my answer came in kind. 
When he shows me that kind of love time & time again it chips away at my ego and my need to be right and instead creates in me a desire to find a way to show him how thankful I am.
He died for me right then. He died to his pride & his right to be right & his big love came right down small to me.

And isn't this the Christmas story? 
Didn't the big God come right down small?
And before He ever did the big dying, He did the small dying. 
He was wrongly accused & reputation-ruined & belittled & forgotten & dismissed, but He didn't rear up to fight back. He didn't defend Himself against our out-of-proportion ire. He didn't swing the spotlight. He just acknowledged it in gentle love. 
He died to His pride & His right to be right & His big love came right down small to me.

And He died for me right then. On that cross. Those two thousand years ago.

The biggest loving & living & dying started with the smallest. 
the small girl from the small town loving a small man and a small baby.

And He says, "Follow Me."
If we can follow Him in the small ways of dying to ourselves so others can have a glass of water, won't these small deaths eventually add up to a whole life of big love?
So then, Luke 16:10 makes a little more sense when it says, "He who is faithful in what is least is faithful also in much."

The big God came down to show us that the way to the big things we desire: value, purpose, joy, forever-living, peace, harmony, beauty is the really the way to Him: Jesus. 

Acknowledging this will cause a dying in you. And dyings are painful. I feel it every time I lay down myself for the glass of water. We can't do it on our own. We need Him to show us the way, but because we're so set on turning our face to the window we will not take His hand. 
Thank God that He takes ours. 
And He doesn't take it by force, swinging the spotlight and angrily showing us our faults. He comes in a soft answer, a little baby born in a little town weaving a big story of a big love. 
Showing you, through His life and death, time & time again, that 
He values you.
More than this whole big wide world.
He. Loves. You.
You need do nothing more extravagant than turning to Jesus. 
Look to Him for your meaning 
and your value 
and your purpose 
and in Him you will find joys unimaginable.
He already showed you how He thinks of you when He sent that baby to give you a way to see Him and know Him and love Him back. He came for you.
And if that soft answer is turning away your anger, turning your face away from that window reflection of yourself & your endless attempts at creating happiness and purpose out of yourself, I believe it is evidence that He is calling you now. Follow Him. He's been coming for you from the beginning.

merry Christmas.
love,
caroline



Friday, December 18, 2015

Ramen with Ramon

This week was one of little joys. 
I will share them with you as I encountered them: In a simple, small, joyful way. 

We recently visited a small church in Machida (one town over from ours) where we immediately felt at home. There were no more than 30 people at the English service that afternoon, but it was one of earnest worship and humble love to these two newcomers. We weren't able to attend the following week because Oakie had to work and I lost my set of car keys (hold your laughter, please), but later in the week we received an invitation to lunch from a man we'd met at the church. Thank you, Jesus, for brave & selfless people who reach beyond themselves to hold onto us because we all belong to each other.

Enter Ramon (or Ramòn maybe?). He remembered us from the service and also works on Camp Zama, but as a civilian. He bravely followed up and offered to take us to lunch on Wednesday. He drove us to a shared parking lot for 3 restaurants and let us choose: Sushi, upscale Japanese lunch, or ramen from a shack. I've mentioned before that Oakie's been into noodles lately, plus, shacks tend to be the homes of the best hole-in-the-walls I know........so ramen it was. Now, I realise the role that ramen has taken in present-day American society. 
It's the package of choice for poor, broke college students who just need to make it to next week; it's the just-add-hot-water-and-stir staple of the down-and-out. But here....it's an art form.

The shack seated about 12 people side by side on low stools at a bar facing the kitchen. Your order is placed at the vending machine by the door and the water is self-serve (come to think of it, I don't think there were other drink options...). After a brief volley of bows and arigato gouzaimasu-es, we took our seats and waited. Watching these chefs was like a Food Network segment. They grabbed big bowls and added a small ladle-full of this and a dash of that and a big dipper of milky white broth and then the famed ramen which cooked as they topped it all with a slice of ham and a sheet of dried seaweed. This is then placed in front of you with chopsticks and a spoon while the bubbles of the boil are still subsiding. AND IT'S AMAZING. It's creamy and savory with just the right amount of crunch and chew and all the ramen realities you know are burst with this perfect pin point dish that you're already pencilling in your calendar to have again. SPOILER: If/when you come to visit, we will be taking you to this place so you too can be disappointed in American ramen in a whole new way. 

Funny thing we learned from Ramon/òn: The Japanese borrowed the word 'mansion' from the english language and have attached it to apartment complexes. 
No amount of correcting them will change their minds. 
Apartments are mansions. 
So just shut up about it.

[Enter clever transition here]

So, as many of you know, I had a birthday this week (thank y'all for the greetings and well-wishes!!!). I highly recommend you try this whole Japanese-birthday thing. Little secret about birthdays in Japan...they last a whole lot longer than regular old American birthdays. I (justifiably) started celebrating 14 hours before y'all and then got a 14 hour extension too! Henceforth and forevermore, I will be celebrating in this fashion. 38 hours of birthday privilege! It's a lot easier to sell than the birthday-week or birthday-month thing. These are cut down by the fact that birthDAY has a set time limit within the name, but if you play the time zone angle, it's STILL your birthDAY for 38 hours because science. You're welcome. 

I had a lovely 38-hour day complete with a make-your-own-Pad-Thai at the Pacific Rim restaurant on our housing area where they sang "Happy Birthday" and gave me a cupcake with a candle and this lovely picture:


And speaking of pictures, [note to self: transition nailed] I GOT A NEW CAMERA AND IT'S FANCY AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO USE IT, BUT I'VE ALREADY TAKEN 78 PICTURES. To celebrate this addition to our family, (other than to use all caps, obviously), I will show you some pictures of our house and my birthday baking efforts and the candles.
But first, the first ever pictures taken by my camera:



 Our sitting room/sewing room/display room for my #taylorswift magazine: 
(didn't think I'd get it in there, did ya?) 
[note to self: nailed it. again.]


My favorite spot in the house (sorry, Taylor) is this Christmas still life. 
A little place where my decorations make me happy.


Baking Chewy Chai Spice Sugar Cookies on my birthday because it delights me to put something undone into a hot box and then take it out deliciously done. 
Plus, they have cream cheese in them and I basically NEEDED them.



And then Oakie put 26 candles into 26 cookies and sang to me. #blessed


And then, perhaps the highlight of my week, starts with a confession:
Hi. My name is Caroline Elizabeth Osborne née Garcia (I just learned about the word 'née and I want to take a moment to congratulate myself on smoothly squeezing it into my blog... OKAY OKAY, we're getting back to the confession) and I had never seen a single Star Wars movie until Friday night. 

Now before you go all "I'm gonna unfriend you on Facebook and ruin your reputation and kick over your trashcans" on me, please know: I have now watched ALL SEVEN OF THEM. One each day until the midnight premiere here in Japan when I watched Episode III right before Episode VII. I...I...I'm a fan. There. I said it. You know what they always say, "Late is great." Right? ...guys?

Another thing you need to know: I have formally committed to pronouncing it so that Wars rhymes with Star...go ahead. Give it a shot. Star. Wars. SO FUN RIGHT? So there's that...

But seriously, I am a fan. And I will not espouse my new-found opinion on the movie so as not to spoil it for other die-hard fans like myself. 

To prove my love, I did my hair Princess Leia-style for the premier and I was NOT ASHAMED.


 I also used our wrapping paper tube as my light sabre.


 And yes, I know that Princess Leia doesn't use them.
#artisticlicense

so that was our week.
it was small and simple and wonderful.
plus, I met a Japanese lady, Chieko-san, who offered to teach me the traditional Japanese tea ceremony and I am SO excited!
love from Japan.
and may the force be with you.



Thursday, December 10, 2015

27 Things I Learned About Japan This Week


 * I gave myself a week off from blogging so I could get our new digs (hello 70s lingo; where’d you come from?) all ready to be lived in and stuff. It was well worth the break. Thank you, retroactively, for your patience. *

This week found us in a classroom for 40 hours participating in a Japanese Crash Course, not to be confused with a very similar class, the Japanese How NOT To Crash Course where I earned my driver’s license—which I have used four entire times all by myself…without crashing! *self-five*

From this experience, I have narrowed down the gems I came away with to this simple list. Consider it your crash course in Japan. You’re welcome.

1.    Just as there is a stereotype about all Japanese people being either samurais or ninjas, there is also an on-going stereotype that all Americans are gunslingers or sharp shooters. In the words of our sensei, Mitsuo-san, “Not all American carry gun! I was shock!”

(*all future quotes belong to Mitsuo-san unless otherwise noted*)

2.    Speaking of samurais, did you know that many of the Japanese customs and/or mannerisms were born of samurai defense tactics? For instance, the whole chopsticks-in-noodles and drinking-from-your bowl things are simply more effective ways to eat when you constantly have to watch your back for enemy samurais! If you were bending over your bowl, they could “chop your neck off!” Anther example is the bow vs. handshake. A handshake could easily be a trick to pull you in and “chop your neck off”, but a bow can be as short or as deep as your trust in the other person.
Little trust = little bow.
Deep trust = deep bow.

3.    In order to explain this to us even further, our 2nd teacher, Takahashi-san compared it to how the biblical Gideon found his 300 soldiers. How they drank at the river showed their aptitude for alertness and battle readiness. Those who knelt to drink and brought the water to their mouths versus those on their bellies drinking straight from the river like dogs. Obviously, the kneeling soldiers were better ready for attack, but God had Gideon choose the lappers for His team. He chose the weak to defeat the strong so He could come through for them without them thinking they did it on their own. This is the beauty of the upside down kingdom of God…in other words, if you’re in Japan and you have noodles in broth, PICK YO BOWL UP FOOL!

4.    Japanese people can tell Americans from other foreigners/Japanese because our dryer sheets smell so good. Most local families hang their clothes to dry, depriving them of the fresh Mountain Clear scent we’ve all come to know and love.

5.    Remember that Georgia vending machine I snapped a shot of for my last blog post? Turns out, it is in fact owned by Coca Cola for distribution in Japan and the name is a nod to my good ol’ hometown where Coca Cola was invented: Columbus. TAKE THAT ATLANTA! Also, fascinating fact, the vending machines here serve cold and hot drinks. If you order a coffee in a can and the price is in red, it will be hot; blue will be cold. What is this world?

6.    I was told in class that COSTCO stands for Chinese Off Shore Trading Company and was in China & Japan before it ever hit the states. I was floored! Our Costco? Our beacon of warehouse shopping experiences a la Sam’s Club started in China?? Turns out, after a quick verification search on the ever-reliable SNOPES, this was just our teachers pulling our legs/lying to us. Ah well, you win some, you lose some.

7.    Along with thinking we’re all pioneers in buckskins, the Japanese are also in complete awe of our steaks’ sizes calling them “sandal-sized’ and “way better” than the famed Japanese Kobe beef, as far as bang-for-your-buck. I mean, since we all have a herd of cattle on our ranch outback, we might as well enjoy the steak, ammiright, pard?

8.    In the morning and evening there are trains to Tokyo designated for Women Only. The trains here can get VERY crowded, so this is an option provided for women’s safety and comfort on their commute to work. #girlpower #yesallwomen #taylorswift (ok, you gotta give me that one. It totally worked…)

9.    In the Japanese language, the numbers 4 (shi), 7 (shi-chi) and 9 (ku) rhyme with words that mean ‘death’, ‘death-place’ & ‘suffering’ respectively, so these are considered unlucky numbers and were all given alternate names (yon, nana & kyuu). I would say something clever about this, but I mean, come on. You can’t make this stuff up…

10. On a happier note, ‘puppy’ (a stand-alone cute word on its own) is ‘wan-chan’ in Japanese and that’s just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. So now, you get a wan-chan picture. You’re welcome. [
Ok, FINE. You get two. 

But we HAVE to move on now. P.S. It’s called a pomsky and I won’t judge you for squealing with pure delight at the height of adorableness.

11.  And speaking of cute, those tamagotchi’s from the 90’s? The ones you had your friends babysit when you had to go to the bathroom for 5 minutes? Yeah, those. Tamagotchi means ‘cute little egg’ in Japanese. 

*small epiphany causes your mind to be blown* 
yeah…me too.

12. 'Shabu shabu' is a delicious style of food where you cook meat in hot broth.
'Shabu' alone is slang for heroin.
So be careful out there, kids.

13.  And speaking of illegal drugs, the mafia here is alive and well and goes by Yakusa. Because of their gangs, tattoos are very taboo here and can get you banned from most hot springs & beaches. Glad I held off on those barbed wire arm rings…and you can stop pressuring me to make my love for you permanent, MOM.

14. In related news, if you get in bad with the mafia, they won’t kill you or blow you up (mostly because they can’t get their hands on any guns or explosives due to stricter laws), they’ll just start showing up at your place of business, ordering food and not paying for it and scaring the other customers off (who then tell all their friends not to go there anymore). Next thing you know, you’re closed down. Simple, yet effective. Moral of the story…pay for your food…or something like that.

15.  Still want more on the mafia? May I recommend Black Rain? Please note, I haven’t seen it and it’s rated R for violence and language. It was recommended in class as a good example of how their mafia works, but if it doesn’t sound like your thing, please refrain from watching it, horrified, and then sending me hate mail.

16. Colors in Japan are not associated with gender. Pink and purple are abundant and are enjoyed for their beauty no matter the gender. #somanypinkcars

17.  Ironically, here’s a story about how safe Japan was known to be about 50 years ago. Mitsuo-san told us a story of a man who owned a solid gold watch. He stopped one day to sit on a bench and wait for the bus. It was warm that day so he removed his wristwatch and jacket and laid them on the bench. Later, he grabbed his jacket, but left the watch. Not remembering where he lost it, he forgot about it. A few years later, he happened back by that part of the country and there on the very same bench was his watch in a plastic container, still keeping time because someone had protected it and then continued to wind it each day until its owner returned. 
*jaw on floor* 
#safetyfirst 
#dontyoukindofwanttofindawatchnow?

18. Japanese read vertically and left to right. Oh yeah, and it’s all in kanji. Which looks like this: 

本雜誌印法,旁行上左,並用西文句讀點之,以便插寫算術及物理化學諸程式,非故好新奇,讀者諒之。


19.  Roads are so twisting in Japan that GPS devices are known for their faulty directions. Here is Mitsuo-san explaining this: “I cross bridge. It says turn left. I say, I will die.”

20.  In related news, another quote from Mitsuo-san, “American straight roads are dream for Japanese!”

21. American coffee is considered weak in Japan. Therefore on most automatic coffee machines, you have the options: Blend Coffee & Weak Coffee.  I guess they’ve never had Mr. Ron coffee………………

22.  Japanese people never say, “I love you” after they are married. They just show each other and stay together.

23.  And on the topic of love, on Valentine’s Day, the girl gives the guy chocolate & on Wives’ Day (March 14th), the guys give the girls the normal American Valentine’s Day gifts, jewelry, roses, chocolate, etc.

24.  Japanese weddings are paid for by the wedding guests via monetary gifts at the wedding. Then the couple, in turn, donates to another young couple’s wedding down the road.

25.  Don’t put business cards in your back pocket, as they interpret the proximity to your…ahem, behind…quite insulting.

26.  “Sake is considered a holy liquid here. Except when you drink too much…”-Takahashi-san

27. Japanese people have a phobia of western foreigners speaking English to them (even though most people learn it in school). They’ll go so far as to move away from you if you sit next to them on a train. They’re afraid their English will be too broken, too elementary. Y’all. Don’t I just feel their pain? But a simple ‘sumimasen’ (excuse me) will put them right at ease. If you are willing to speak broken Japanese, they are willing to speak broken English and we meet halfway 'round the world at the halfway point. Thank you, Lord, for language classes that teach me more than how to say, “I don’t understand you.”

This week’s Holiday Headlines brought to you by Home Depot:
“You can do it. We can help.”
WE GOT OUR FIRST EVER CHRISTMAS TREE THIS YEAR AND I LOVE ALL 4 FEET OF ITS ARTIFICIAL GLORY!
The Great Christmas Tree Hunt Of 2015 was a rousing affair complete with a three-hour round trip search for a real live, needle-dropping, forest-smelling Douglas Fir. We explored the nearby Naval Air Base (Atsugi), the nearby IKEA, and the (actually) nearby PX, only to realize that there just weren’t any left. I’ve always been a live tree kinda girl, but this year, the love I feel for my little baby artificial Christmas tree with the douglas fir candle burning next to it, is off the charts.


beautiful, isn't it?


















SIKE!
Here she is...

And my first ever batch of gingerbread (oakie's fave)...

This is a year of firsts for me.
First Christmas tree of my marriage.
First artificial tree.
First time in Japan.
First time weekly blogging.
First time making gingerbread cookies.
First time HANGING CURTAINS ON OUR EVERLOVING WINDOWS.
And I couldn’t be more grateful.

::thank you Jesus for this big and wonderful world::