Teppanyaki Time

As I was loading the construction photos onto my computer yesterday, I came across some pictures of our visit to a teppanyaki restaurant a few weeks ago. The word teppanyaki is derived from two Japanese words: teppan (iron plate) and yaki (grilled). The food is prepared by a chef who quickly chops and grills the food (meat or seafood and veggies) on a hibachi directly in front of your table. Our chef was working so quickly, his hands were blurred in our pictures.

Katherine and I enjoying our frou-frou drinks. Mine came in a shisa glass that I got to keep. I'm not sure the drink was delicious enough to warrant another round for a matching set.

Matt and I on the front balcony of the restaurant, overlooking the lights of Mihama.

Home Repair Central - It's Better to Be Away

First, there was the lockdown and I wasn't able to leave our house. Now, for the past week, droves of Japanese construction workers have swarmed our building kicking up storms of dust and debris and I've been finding as many excuses as possible to get away. Each day brings a different crew - some tear things down and others put them back together. Yesterday, a team of painters arrived at 8:30, so I packed my school books and laptop in a bag and walked to Starbucks to study. It was amazing how much work I could accomplish without constant drilling and banging or the shadows of workers crawling over the balconies and past the windows (especially creepy with the outlines of their masks and goggles). No such luck today - Before I could get out the door, I was plastic wrapped inside the apartment for spray painting on the exterior.

Why is all of this work taking place? A little backstory for you: In December, our housing agency informed us that there would be construction in January to soundproof our building per mandate by the Japanese government. As an added bonus, we were told, the Japanese government would provide new air conditioning units for each room of the apartment. However, there was a catch :). We had to "pretend" (the housing agency's word) that we were currently without air conditioning for a government inspection. That meant that on a Wednesday, the housing agency came and removed our air conditioners and the next day, I had to be present for a walk through inspection with government officials. I was worried they would ask me questions, especially since there were cords hanging from the bare spots on the wall and the control panel was in plain view, but the visit went off without a hitch.

Unfortunately, there was another catch :). We would not be getting our old air conditioners back and would be without air conditioning until the new units arrived. Finally, after almost three months with no air conditioning (and thankfully temperate weather) the workers descended on Hana Mansion. And it is my opinion, after fostering a great and inquiring relationship with the lady at our housing agency, our apartment has been the first to make its transformation :).

Beijing: Exploring the Hutongs

When we returned to Beijing after our trip to the wall, Trezi took us on a pedicab tour through some of the historic hutongs. The hutongs are the traditional residential streets of Old Beijing and consist of narrow passageways lined with homes and shops off the main thoroughfares in the city. Although many of the hutong and their surrounding homes have been demolished to make way for modern buildings and skyscrapers, there are many well-preserved examples that are designated as protected areas.

Matt and I huddled under a thick blanket as our pedicab (bike with attached carriage) was peddled down the path into a world that seemed far removed from metropolitan Beijing. The hutong was bustling with activity – Chinese on bikes and foot, children playing, men sitting on a corner playing Chinese checkers. Paper lanterns and laundry were hung across the fronts of stores and homes and the smells of meat, spices and coal smoke permeated the crisp air. When we came around a corner, our driver had a brief confrontation with the owners of a cart that was blocking the road. Our driver prevailed (but not without strong words from an older woman in an apron and kerchief).

Near the end of the tour, we visited the home of a Chinese family that owned one of the traditional residences along the hutong. In these houses, called siheyuan, the rooms surround and open out onto a courtyard area that often features a large tree or Chinese garden. The woman we visited took us through her home, which her family has owned for many generations, and served us tea and roasted pumpkin seeds. We had a brief conversation with her that was translated by Trezi and our local guide and learned that she had owned a teahouse and her mother had been a kung-fu performer.

Bundled up and ready to ride. The pedicab was actually a much smoother ride than I thought it would be.

Trezi (left) and the lady who owned the siheyuan we visited. I can't remember her name, but she was very sweet and you could tell she was proud of the history of her home. 

Doorway of a home along the hutong. In Old Beijing, the status of the family was marked by the even number of pegs above the doorway. Four pegs meant a relatively wealthy family. The emperor's residence had the maximum number of twelve pegs.

Beijing: The Great Wall of China

Throughout my travels, I have always had an affinity for certain structures or locations that I have identified as markers of a culture or civilization. My first visits to Pompeii and Delphi both made such an impact on my impressionable teenage mind that when I was able to return later as an adult, I was full of anticipation to see if second visits would have the same effect. Without a doubt, they did. Needless to say, when Matt and I first started discussing a visit to China, the Great Wall was placed high on our proposed itinerary.

Before leaving Japan, we had booked a private tour with guide and driver to take us to the outskirts of Beijing for the day and explore the wall and Chinese countryside. As we drove away from the hazy brown city (I know I keep remarking on the air quality, but it was remarkable what a mysterious essence it gave to our visit), our guide Trezi discussed many aspects of Chinese culture and history with us. I had been intrigued to see exactly what she would say since the government so strictly controls the tour industry and the marketed perception of China and Matt and I were careful not to cross any controversial boundaries, but I think she still managed to convey a lot of insightful information about China and the Chinese people.

As the car traveled into the Juyonguan Pass, we began to see sections of the wall through thick green trees and vegetation. The section of the wall we visited was accessible by a short cable car ride. After a briefing from Trezi (and several reminders to watch our footing), Matt and I hiked from our entrance point along the steep stone path to the watchtower at the peak of the Badaling section. The wall itself – wide enough to accommodate 10 horses across – was impressive, but the view of other sections of the wall streaming out like ribbons and winding effortlessly across the mountaintops as far as the eye could see was amazing.
Did you think I would let you get away without a history lesson? The wall was built and maintained from the 5th century B.C. through the 16th century A.D. to protect China from foreign invaders. 

The wall was constructed of stone from nearby quarries, bricks and packed earth. Several sections (including Badaling where we are pictured getting ready to hike) have been repaired and maintained for tourists to visit.

The wall is shorter on the Beijing side and taller with spaces to accommodate archers on the sides facing enemy territory. Watchtowers were placed intermittently along the wall to provide command posts and shelter. 

The wall is over 4,000 miles in length and despite popular rumor, it cannot be seen from outer space. Another large (but somber) statistic is that over 2 million Chinese workers died during construction of the wall. 

Beijing: Dragons and Other Ferocious Creatures

Tile Dragon on Forbidden City Rooftop

As I mentioned in my last post, Chinese art and architecture is full of animal symbolism. Though the most frequently portrayed animal is the dragon, other animals, both real and imaginary, appear ubiquitously at landmark locations throughout Beijing. Serving as both icons of power and protection, these animals often stand at the gates to courtyards and entrances to palaces and temples. I compiled a photo montage of some of our favorites that we "collected" during our visit.

Male Shi (guardian lion) at Lama Temple. The ball under his paw symbolizes the flower of life.  The male shi is said to guard the structure while the female shi guards the interior of a building.


        Bronze Female Shi in the Forbidden City. Female shi often appear with a baby shi under one paw. Typically, shi appear in pairs with the female on the left and the male on the right.

Bronze Elephant in the Forbidden City. The Chinese revere the elephant as a symbol of energy, strength and power. Think less Dumbo and more Indian battle elephants crashing through the woods in the movie Alexander. 

This fellow was my favorite. He's a Qilin, a mythological chimera-like creature that combines features of the dragon, ox, deer, fish and lion. The Qilin was said to be a pet of the deities and only appear in places ruled by a wise and benevolent leader. Fittingly, this Qilin was located in one of the inner courts in the Forbidden City. 

Nine Dragon Screen in the Forbidden City. This wall was one of Matt's favorites. Each dragon represents one of the nine forms of the dragon in Chinese mythology and has 117 scales (81 of positive yang essence and 36 of negative ying essence). 

Beijing: Temple of Heaven

Easily one of the most recognized sites in Beijing, the Temple of Heaven was one of our top places to visit. The Temple is one of many religious and ceremonial buildings located in a sprawling park in the middle of Beijing. It served as a center of the Taoist religion and their rites of heaven worship. Twice a year, the Ming and Qing emperors and their courts would travel to the temple from the Forbidden City to perform highly ritualized ceremonies (including animal sacrifice, fasting and prayer) and ask for the blessing of a good harvest. The smallest mistake in protocol could mean a bad omen for the coming year.

Both the art and architecture of the temples was astounding. The Hall of Prayer for Good Harvest (pictured) is constructed completely of wood with no nails and most every feature of its design is symbolic to the ancient Chinese culture. The round shape of the temple and its midnight blue tiled roof symbolize heaven, the four inner pillars represent the four seasons and the twelve outer pillars the twelve months of the year. In the elaborate artwork, dragons and quantities of the number nine symbolize the emperor and might of the empire.

Our temple visit was relatively early in the morning, so we were treated to the sun sparkling off the tiles and gold art through the typical Beijing haze. The height and sheer size of almost every building often led us to stand heads tilted back and mouths agape before heading in for a closer view. We were also delighted to stroll through the wide, tree-lined lanes in the park and discover a double pagoda near an outcropping of rocks and massive moat surrounding the Hall of Fasting. (I wondered about its proximity to the altar where cattle was burned as a sacrifice – wouldn’t that make those fasting a bit hungry? Maybe that is why there is such an impressive moat :P).

Dragon Art inside the Hall of Prayer for Good Harvest

Courtyard Hallway

Double Pagoda in Temple of Heaven Park

Busy Little Bee

I am amazed at how quickly time has passed in the past couple of weeks. And how busy both Matt and I have been with work, school, and life in general. I've been delaying posting much because in my organization- obsessed mind I wanted to be chronological and upload all of the China blogs in order before posting on our newer adventures, but they have proved to be a bit time consuming (and Photobucket a bit finicky), so I am trying a new approach. From now on, the China posts will be interspersed with tales of life on Okinawa.

In the last few weeks, since my return to solid foods (and sushi!), I have taken on a couple of new projects. The first is an independent study of Japanese literature for school. I'm reading works spanning the start of the Meiji era to the brink of World War II. This is a very interesting time in Japanese literary history because it marks the advent of Western influence on Japanese culture, which had maintained virtual isolation for many centuries. The second project, which has turned out to be quite delightful as well as time consuming is volunteering as a preschool teacher for the Okinawan MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers). I have a class of ten two-year-olds that keep me busy on Tuesday mornings as well as throughout the week when I work on plans to incorporate lessons with crafts, games and other activities. You can be sure that some of my experiences from both of these undertakings will be making their way to these pages.

Finally, you may have seen on the news that we are having some issues on the island concerning the behavior of a few Marines. I don't feel it would be appropriate to discuss them on the blog, as there are a lot of questions still unanswered and their conduct is not representative of the majority of Americans on the island nor my experiences here thus far. Because this is so close to home, I have a lot of strong feelings about my observations on the situation and how it is playing out in the Japanese and world media. I'm recording them privately and might publish them at a later time; however, if you would like to discuss the issue with me, send me an email and I will try to answer your questions the best that I can.

J-E-LL-O

Hi everyone! I'm sorry there has been such a long interruption in the China posts. I've been having a bit of tummy trouble the past couple weeks which culminated in two trips to the doctor's office and a stint with IV fluids on Monday evening. With the help of the awesome medicine phenergan (and my awesome husband who bought lots of pre-packaged jello "because nothing is too good for his wife" and also made some from "scratch" ; )), I am steadily working my way back to the land of solid culinary delights. I look forward to catching up on the China posts and sharing some of our newer adventures with you!

Leaps and Bounds

When it came to planning our trip to China, we received much recommendation about what to do and what to avoid during our visit – watch out for “art students” and people trying to “practice English”, only use certain taxis, don’t drink or brush your teeth with the water, know that standing in line and personal space are not understood concepts, haggle relentlessly. However, perhaps the best advice was “go see the Chinese acrobats.”

On our first evening in Beijing, Matt and I took a taxi through the illuminated colossal skyscrapers and construction projects of downtown Beijing to the colorfully lit Chaoyang Theater for an evening of amazing physical and theatrical showmanship. With the glee of children at a circus, we watched open-mouthed and wide-eyed as the acrobatic troupe performed stunt after challenging stunt with grace, precision and accuracy.

And Chinese acrobatics is far from being just entertaining – it is a performance art steeped in culture and tradition that began over two millenia ago during the Han Dynasty that features “feats of strength and daring performed cleverly.” The acrobatic techniques are handed down from master to apprentice over many years of rigorous training in balance, strength and flexibility. The performances feature the skill of the acrobats working together as well as with props from daily life (plates, rope, chairs) and traditional Chinese handicrafts (vases, fans, kites). The result is a show that is both lyrical in its composition and coordination with traditional music and costuming and athletic in the sheer physicality and endurance of its performers.

These pictures don’t quite capture the experience because they lack the fluidity of movement, but I hope (in my first ever blog video), that you are able to get a taste for what we saw.

One of Matt favorites - the two acrobats standing on planks were rolling on the pins underneath while balancing various objects and people.

This segment was a "phoenix dance" that began with each acrobat on their own bike swirling around the stage. I was captivated.

Yonghe Lamasery

The Yonghe Lamasery, also known as the Lama Temple, was built during the Qing Dynasty to house court eunuchs. After serving several functions, including time as an imperial residence, it was converted into a monastery to house Tibetan monks in the early 1700s. Saved from the Cultural Revolution, it opened to the public in 1981 and remains one of the most prominent Tibetan Buddhist monasteries in the world. In addition to boasting a remarkable mixture of Han Chinese and Tibetan architecture, glazed tile roofs, and Buddhist art and sculpture, the temple also houses the ritual urn used to determine reincarnations of the Dalai Lama.

Our visit to the temple was interesting and remains somewhat difficult to explain. I have visited sacred religious sites, both Western and Eastern, both with and without active worship taking place. This experience was different, and in some ways only pleasant in the way that it got both Matt and I thinking and talking about what made us ill at ease. Had I hit the limit of my cultural comfort zone? Had I viewed a religion so different from my own, witnessing activities that went directly against its tenets, and become uncomfortable? I don’t really put too much stock in either of these reasons, because I’ve had experiences that have pushed the boundaries of both much further.

I imagined a Buddhist temple to be a peaceful place with a calming energy, but the atmosphere was intense almost to the point of being frenzied. Incense billowed in thick, choking clouds, incense sellers patrolled at the front of each building, worshippers rushed from altar to altar. An elderly woman, struggling to keep up with her family, fell down a flight of stairs and thankfully, Matt caught her before her head hit the hard stone. She was most grateful and smiled in appreciation to cross the language barrier, her family nodded at us before pausing briefly to gather her and continue on. The only calm feeling came from the monks, who rather than being ominpresent, were scattered infrequently throughout the many buildings. Their silence was in great contrast to the fervor of the visitors.

I did however enjoy the beautiful colors of the buildings and the sun glinting off the gold and the yellow glazed tile roofs. There was an amazing set of shi-shi dogs (the Chinese equivalent to shisa) on either side of the entrance to the main hall, and the interiors of each building contained elaborate (sometimes eerie) and opulent statues of the many Buddhas and bodhisattva. Initially, we had rented audio guides, but the sheer mass of information at the first spot led us to turn to the well-marked signage in both Chinese and English