Lions & Tigers & Pandas Oh My!

Yes. It's true. I'm posting late. But you know what they say, "Sometimes you make a schedule for the thing & then you don't do the thing by the schedule & then it's late & you shrug your shoulders & do the thing late anyway." 
So, you know, let that old, wise adage guide you today.

As I mentioned in my last blog post, we recently travelled to Taiwan on a 5-day Round Island excursion. It was both exactly what I expected and nothing I could've dreamed in a million years all in one. I can't wait to tell you about it...next week.

Right now, there are just too many good things I have neglected to include that just tickle me. So without further ado, a segment I like to call: 


Too Many Good Things I Have Neglected To Include That Just Tickle Me 

(working title)

1. I mentioned our Headstart teachers a couple of time in one of my earlier posts, but did I mention that Mitsuo-san SANG FOR US & PLAYED A TRADITIONAL JAPANESE MUSICAL INSTRUMENT THAT HE TAUGHT HIMSELF HOW TO PLAY & I LISTENED & FELT A LOT OF THINGS & I THINK I LOVE HIM NOW?? I didn't think so. 

Ahem. Here is a video so you can empathise/understand me/think I'm less crazy:
Mitsuo-san Sings. It's a little long, but the very end shows a tiny snippet of his personality & it's wonderful.

And here are the gingerbread men we made them as gifts. Except we made them ninjas and called them ninjabread men. Oakie's idea. The man's a genius, I tell ya. 

Also, Mitsuo-san wasn't familiar with American gingerbread men so he just thought we made a cookie shaped like him. It was pointless to talk him out of believing it, so the magic lives on.

2. We are really into the tours the MWR (Military Something Something Recreation) offers so we've signed up for ALL of them. We're planning to go see the snow monkeys in the hot springs this month as well as TWO strawberry picking events that include hiking and ice cream (so...duh). Oh, and we're going to the 40th annual Sumo Wrestling Tournament in February and I still don't know how to feel about it. I say all of this to explain that we recently went on one of these day-trip tours to Kyoto (the former capitol of Japan). 

Notice something with me here: Kyoto is the old capitol. Tokyo is the new capitol. Their names mean Western Capitol and Eastern Capitol, respectively. Also, their names of opposites of each other. HOW COOL IS THAT?! To- and Kyo- switch places. Kyoto. Tokyo. I love Japanese.

The trip to Kyoto included two Buddhist temples and one walk through an illuminated park. Here are some pictures as I tried to capture some of the magnitude of the experience. 

Ahem. Self-timer MASTERED. *self-timer self-five* #selfies

 Um, yes. That pavilion is covered in gold. 

Japanese tea & cake break.

 Tiny door celebration.

 Nighttime Illumination Walk

3. In Japanese, there's an adage that hiccuping means you "stole an egg." We learned this because (THANK GOODNESS) Oakie got the hiccups in front of Ramon (who took us to lunch again) & he laughed and asked if he stole an egg. I'll never see hiccuping the same.

4. AND SPEAKING OF EGGS. The first time I bought eggs in Japan at the Commissary, I noticed they were locally sourced (cool by me, bro), but that the date on top was very close. Like only 3-4 days away. Thankfully, I was doing a lot of baking so I wasn't too concerned about using them all before the date. Also, they sell them in quantities of 10 so even easier! However, Ramon told us that the date on the eggs isn't an expiration date at all. It's the date by which it's safe to eat them raw (!!!). So just call me Gaston...

jk. jk. I haven't eaten any raw yet...BUT I MIGHT.

5. I've mentioned before that I LOVE Japanese birthdays & apparently SO DO THEY. In fact, it's a national holiday...if you're the emperor. And guess who got invited to the party/public appearance & speech? 
That's right. 
Everyone in Japan. 
So we went, because one does not simply ignore the emperor's birthday. It was crazy. There were millions thousands (I cannot estimate crowds for the life of me. There could've been ten of us there. I wouldn't know...) hundreds of people in this huge courtyard where he received his guests and we all got these cool party favours:

 And then there he was with his wife & daughters 

& he turned 82 & gave a two minute speech

& it was the quietest group of 90 million people I've ever heard.

Tokyo is a beautiful place to have a birthday party. Good call, Emperor.

Old & New right beside each other.

Plus, they even paint all the cranes festive colours for you 

& tour guides bring festive Follow-the-Leader equipment & sometimes they let you hold it for a minute while they do a headcount & you immediately start living out your dream of being tour guide one day.

As exciting as all this was, we were NOT invited to he slumber party afterwards....whatevs. We're not even mad about it. 

He's clearly on the next level of Big Deal & we're new here so we understood.

                                                           The Part Where We Go To The Zoo

And then we were released to spend the rest of our day seeing the Tokyo Zoo & National Museum & Nature Museum...but let's be real. Oakie & I spent all 5 free hours at the zoo. #worthit

 Because we got to see a PANDA! 

I'd never seen one in real life (that I can recall so this was HUGE...I'm serious. That bear was so big.)

Also, someone please appreciate that this photo is in black & white...

 Also, check out THIS fantastic shot..............that I saw on a poster outside. 

And also THIS panda

...gotcha. 

It's really Oakie.

 If you know me well enough to know what my spirit animal/patronus is then you know that otters are very important to me & this cheeky little fellow was no different. 

I actually have, like, 47 pictures of him, but I spared you. 

You're welcome.

He played with our hearts for a good ten minutes before finally travelling through the clear tube that put him outside the enclosure in a clear tub of water. 

He then swam the loop one time and went right back to the cage. 

And he looked right at me as if to say, "No. YOU'RE welcome."

I call this next collection:

Good Picture Of The Kid

&

Good Picture Of The Tiger

This pretty birdy POSED for me. 

I swear.

Solid ten minutes on that branch just WORKING that camera.

Plus also roosters.

And Taco's Asian Cousin

& last, but not least, our favourite exhibit.

The Ezo Sika Deer.

We had a chat.

It was magical.

Here is a video.

I think we're engaged now...

(loud one is me & the softer one is him)

Bonus Material:

This awkward video I took of the polar bear collecting his toys...

And that's all she wrote....

Next week.

You.

Me. 

Taiwan.

Interim Post

We are currently traveling through Taiwan on a brief holiday. Internet is hotel-dependent since our phones are Japan-exclusive so this is a bite-sized blog to hold you over till I can make a full-sized post in a few days. Because, obviously, you've been sitting by your phone just WAITING for me to post again...obviously. #delightfuldelusions

Here are the thingz: (thingz was originally a typo but then I liked it so now I'm three degrees cooler than I was before)

I have now been out of my home country for the longest amount of time yet. I've studied abroad twice for 5 weeks each, but as we complete our 6th week away this is the longest at one time. And we're still two years away from Stateside Life. 

Some things I've realized about my Western Self:

1. I love red brick. It's familiar and homey and almost completely missing from Asian architecture. Yes, I realize this is a resources issue and that red brick isn't really "American" inherently, but it's representative and I'm ok with that. 

2. I love yards. Big green, grassy, annoying-to-mow yards. I want to run in one...right now. 

3. I miss red hair...and blonde hair. And blue eyes. And green eyes. I know, it's silly, but these brunette around here rule the roost and a "homogenous society" is starting to make more sense...

You can still take bad pictures on a good camera. And I don't mean the blurred-is-kind-of-in-right-now-I-can-make-this-work kind of bad. I mean the kind where if you got three of four of these on a roll of film, you just wasted almost 20% of your money spent. 

"That was a tourist trap. We just got tourist trapped!" -Oakie (about the fresh fruit stand)

Classroom flashback: I feel possessive of seats that I've sat in one time. Like I walk back on the tour bus and see someone in "my" seat and I'm all ready to tell them there's been a terrible mistake and THEY'VE TAKEN MY SEAT when Oakie reminds me we're supposed to be rotating through the bus and all I can think is, "But I miss my friends!" #attachmentissues

Ok. That's all I got. Byeeeee.  

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

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.