Something Food

So we ordered something potato salad from the menu and ended up getting French fries on top of lettuce. We ordered kimchee something and got a bowl of chewy cow stomach with a little hot sauce. We ordered a something American dog and got a half warm sweet corn dog. We ordered a something pizza and got a pizza with a half-cooked egg yolk in the middle.You never know what surprise you're going to get when you order something-something, but it's always fun! When you want a surprise, order something+something you know!

Let's stop playing dress-up

I have been writing half-blogs for so long that I'm considering publishing each half to make an incoherent whole. I have so much to say, and yet at the same time don't. I feel like the half-blogs don't ring exactly true to what I feel, and so I have had a hard time finishing them. It's like this: I am watching a TV show with a guy who is popping (dancing) while twirling pizza dough at the same time, with the pop-up circles of 5 faces watching and reacting to what I'm watching in the background. As I watch, I realize that nothing is strange to me. Somewhere along the way, I have become "nihontsu", or "Japanese expert/lover" as my favorite school nurse said to me today. The teachers asked me if milk in Japan tastes different than in America. I said I couldn't remember. I have a faint memory of it tasting strange a looong time ago, as if it was a dream. It is hard to be excited when Jen (my sister, now a high school teacher) tells me some kid bowed to her or her teacher gave her a painting, it doesn't surprise me. I am glad that these things happen and she is having the full experience, but I can't share it with her. Of course he bowed to her, that's to be expected and more. Of course the teacher gave her something important, why wouldn't he? Although I have not even realized it, I have come to expect special treatment, whether or not I want it, which includes presents, extra attention, free things, etc. When I go to a cafe and the store owner takes us upstairs to see his special collection of Japanese antiques, I don't even bat an eye. Of course he does. Then he tells the teachers that I'm with, not to thank him for the special treatment, but Gaijin-san (polite word for foreigner) aka ME, as he pours us coffee like we're his personal guests instead of customers. I am mildly affronted, but I have not gone down the road of full-blown anger as some foreigners have, or full-blown conceit as others have. I crossed the road from guest to resident and it's hard to know how to react sometimes. Should I tell him I have been using chopsticks for a year now, so of course I can use them now? Should I tell him that of course I can say "Thank you" in Japanese, and I can even order food and understand too? But he is just trying to be polite and nice to the Gaijin-san, the guest, the foreigner.  I am forever the guest, forever special, forever different. I am tired of finding differences, I want to find similarities.  At the risk of sounding like a teenager, in short, I don't want to be special or talked about like a child, "How beautiful she is. What big eyes....long eyelashes..nice teeth... great accent." It half makes me feel like I should coo like a baby or do tricks like a horse. Some friends came to my apartment today to eat dinner together. As a couple of them were leaving they spotted a bill that had my name on it. They picked it up to inspect it and were very entertained by it, and in an instant, we became separated into Japanese friends and non-Japanese friends. I am smiling patiently awaiting their entertainment over a bill with my name. Just the usual. Of course it has my name, it's my apartment, right? But because of the way foreigners names are spelled, it looks strange on important things like bills, checks, signatures etc. My name is permanently in italics or quotation marks in Japanese, so I can understand their amusement. It's like I am not really a person, but a child playing dress-up. Let's play Japan!  I'll be "Sally" and you can be "Bob". Sometimes I get tired of playing dress-up. I want to stop playing "Kasandora" and just be Cassandra. But I don't know how.

TV Screen in A Bathroom

I went to a bathroom at the airport in Tokyo, and there was a TV screen in every bathroom stall. I couldn’t believe it, OIJ -Only In Japan! They were playing commercials. WOW! Can you imagine?