Karaoke

Yesterday I went out with some friends. There were four mothers and five kids. The original plan was to picnic at a large park in the area, but the rain put a dampener on things. So we went to a Hawaiian restaurant for lunch instead, followed up by a bit of karaoke.

The funniest incident for the whole day was that in the 20 minutes between leaving the restaurant and arriving at the karaoke, all four of our toddlers fell asleep in the car. So we walked into the building each carrying a dead-to-the-world child on our shoulders (the fifth child is four years old and outgrew daytime naps a while ago). I wonder what that looked like to the karaoke staff.

Anyway, we had lots of fun. I had never actually done karaoke before in that setting. We got our own little room with a TV in the corner so it was all very private. I was interested, however, to still observe the cultural difference between Australia and Japan with this one. In Australia, you just don't really sing in front of your friends, unless perhaps you're a bona fide singer anyway. And if you decide to do something a little bit mad like karaoke, you giggle self-consciously and apologise for your really terrible voice and just generally feel shy. You might warm up after a while, but it's not like you can just launch into it.

Not so in Japan. Karaoke isn't about how well you can sing, it's just about something friends do together as a fun way to pass the time. Of my three companions, one could sing reasonably well, one was ordinary and the third was pretty bad. But she wasn't in the slightest bit embarrassed about it!

And now I can tick off another "quintessentially Japanese experience" on my imaginary to-do list (you know, the one I have to tell everyone about next time we go back to Australia and they ask how Japan is). Perhaps I should consider climbing Mount Fuji with Craig in a few weeks' time after all...

Yamakagashi!

It's a well-known fact that approximately 95% of Australia's snake population is poisonous. Most of them deadly. It's also a well-known fact that snakes, in general, are shy creatures that would rather flee than fight. Put these two things together and what you get is the simple conclusion that it's pretty rare to actually come across a snake in the wild, but when you do, and you're Australian, you're very, very cautious. Unless you're Steve Irwin, but that guy was Not Normal. Anyway, throw into this mix the false belief that Japan does not have snakes, and you have a recipe for one extremely amazed and slightly freaked out gaijin.

We went to Kanukiyama (the local mountain) again yesterday for something to do. As we walked along the path, I heard a bit of rustling in the ditch on the side. Wondering what interesting creature I might be able to spot, I paused for a moment. This is what I saw.



A snake. With a frog in its mouth. A snake! Right here on the side of the path where hundreds of people have undoubtedly walked today? In Japan?? A snake??! So I made quite a few loud "ooh-ahh-woah-wow" kind of noises. We stopped for a while to take some photos and video, and thought the people coming along the path behind us would be equally impressed. One man stopped to have a brief look and informed us that it was a yamakagashi (I later looked it up and found out that its common English name is Tiger Keelback and it is actually poisonous), but didn't feel the need to stick around and admire it the way we were. I could hardly believe that anyone would be so casual about such a spectacle -- after all it was in the process of eating a frog -- but there were more people coming up the path and I thought we could interest them instead. One woman took a millisecond glance and said "eww, yamakagashi" and kept walking. Others didn't even stop to look.

I don't think I shall ever understand the culture of this nation. (When we got to the top of the mountain we saw a man up there in a tracksuit, with a towel draped around his neck, vigorously performing squats and toe-touching exercises, who later sat down and smoked two cigarettes in a row. I'm sure it's related somehow.)

Awashima Marine Park

We took another Sunday excursion yesterday, this time to Awashima Marine Park. Awashima is a tiny little island not far from here which had nothing going for it until someone decided to build an aquarium there. So now you pay 1200 yen for the privilege of jumping on a small ferry which paddles for about five minutes to the island, and being able to stay there as long as you like. (And if you miss the last ferry back at 4:45 p.m., there's even a swank hotel on the island that will no doubt be happy to take your business.) I'm not sure if they have a problem in summer with people attempting to swim to it. As the crow flies the distance is less than 100 metres.

Anyway, it's a pretty cool little place. They have an aquarium, a dolphin display area, a seal display area, a penguin area, and in the last few months they even added a frog house which you pay an extra 100 yen to go into (definitely worth it). There's also a salt water swimming pool which is evidently open in the summertime only. The whole island is about 2.5 km in perimeter and has a nice cut path all around it which takes about half an hour to stroll.



My favourite part was the new frog house, because they had heaps of really groovy lookin' frogs in there, including beautifully coloured poison dart frogs. The dolphin display wasn't too bad although nothing spectacular. They had two dolphins performing a few tricks -- fetching balls, jumping over poles, jumping up high enough to touch a ball suspended from the top of a ladder, waving their flippers at the audience, etc. No human pyramids skiing on their backs or anything fancy-pants like that. But still enjoyable. Unfortunately the seal display area was out of action for refurbishment, although we still got to see the seals mucking around up reasonably close. The aquarium itself has a small hands-on display area where you can pick up starfish and sea urchins, and touch revolting slimy things that live in the ocean if you feel so inclined (for the record, sea slugs feel like jelly). We also happened to arrive just in time for the 12:15 feeding of the penguins -- another little 300-yen diversion which gives you the ability to drop a few fish over the gate and watch them being devoured by the first penguin that grabs them from you.



We really enjoyed our day. It's a simple little place, good for young kids, because you only need a couple of hours to see the whole thing. I'd recommend it especially for one of those days when you just want to get out and about but can't think of anything else to do.

***** ***** *****
How to get there: Take the Kisho bus (it doesn't have a number) from stop number 8 on the south side of Numazu Station. The trip takes about half an hour, and the bus stops just outside the mainland entrance to the park.

Nihondaira Dobutsuen (Zoo)

We like to try and get out and about on Sundays; it's our only chance to do something interesting and a bit different during the week. Craig had heard from a work colleague that there was a zoo in Shizuoka, which is the capital city of the prefecture we live in, about an hour's local train ride from Numazu. We're a bit partial to zoos, so last week we decided to check it out.

I think probably the best word to describe Nihondaira Dobutsuen is functional. As far as zoos go, it would be on the small side of average. The displays tend to be very simple and not an awful lot of effort has been made to recreate the animals' natural habitats. It's not quite as bad as being stuck in a small cage with a concrete floor and nothing else, but if you're used to zoos that go all out for their animals, this one will come as a bit of a surprise. As an example, the black leopard had one long plank of wood propped at about a 30 degree angle to pace up and down on, but an otherwise bare concrete enclosure. Most of the animals got a bit luckier and at least had dirt or grass floors. The polar bear had a reasonable amount of water to swim in.

It has an interesting and generous collection of monkeys and apes which sets it apart from any other zoo I've been to. I realised that I must have never actually seen an adult orangutan in real life before because I was blown away by how huge the one they've got is. It also has several of the usual African suspects - a lion (which roared at us a couple of times), elephants, giraffes and rhinos. No zebras, though. One of the most interesting displays which greets you as you enter the zoo is the flamingo area. Did you know there is more than one type of flamingo and that they come from Africa and South and Central America? Neither did I, but this place has three species in various amazing shades of pink. I was amused in an indignant sort of way to see that one of the species is named the Lesser Flamingo. How would you introduce yourself at parties with that moniker, I wonder? Don't mind me, I'm just a Lesser Flamingo...

Anyway, the zoo also hosts a small children's park with dinky little train rides, a merry-go-round, go-karts and the like, all of which cost extra. I'm sure this is how the zoo makes its money, because the entrance fee is a measly 500 yen. We didn't hang around in the kids' area for long, but we did shell out the extra 100 yen each to ride the chairlift to the top of the hill at one end of the zoo. The brochure boasted a reptile house on the hill, so we figured it was probably worth it. Well... maybe it would have been if we didn't have to fork out another 100 yen each to take the chairlift back down the hill. (You can actually walk down too, presumably for free although we didn't bother to find out.) There was a big jumping pillow on the hill too, which had an awful lot more people on it than the reptile house had in it so it wasn't a total loss.

It's not a bad place to visit if you're looking for something to do with your kids for a day. The cheap entrance fee is certainly a drawcard. If you're hoping to immerse yourself in a wonderful zoo experience, however, you'll probably be disappointed.

***** ***** *****
How to get to Nihondaira Dobutsuen from Numazu: Take the train to Shizuoka station, then the north exit to bus stop number 13 (go down the underpass and take the second left exit). You can take bus number 40, 41 or 42; they all go to the zoo -- and you can't miss the stop because the bus actually goes up the zoo's driveway and drops you off right outside the gate. The sneaky alternative which saves you a small amount in bus fare and negotiating the Shizuoka interchange (worth considering, especially if you're in a hurry) is to get off the train at Higami-Shizuoka, which is one station before. The bus also stops there but I'm not sure which stop number it is. Just look for bus number 40, 41 or 42 I guess.

Takazawa Koen (Park)

This once-a-week-on-the-internet thing really isn't workin' for me. Time for a new plan. Maybe I should go on every day but strictly limit myself to no more than half an hour or something.

Anyway, I have been meaning to post about the park across the street from us ever since we got here, and finally I've taken the necessary photos. So here we go:


I call this piece of equipment the Stegosaurus. It is pure Evil. It's made entirely out of concrete and is very slippery, having been worn smooth through years of use. And that's just plain ol' dirt ground underneath to cushion your fall if you haven't already been knocked unconscious on the way down.


The angle of this photograph does complete justice to the steepness of the (entirely concrete, very slippery) slide.


The top of the steps and slide is about two metres high. Did I mention this thing is pure Evil?


And just in case your child doesn't kill him or herself on the Stegosaurus, s/he can have a go on this Concrete Forest instead.


It's not all bad though. This see-saw is as benign as it looks.


And these animals, although also concrete, are low to the ground.


It took quite a while for me to catch on that the dirt in this area is softer and finer than the dirt elsewhere, which officially makes it a sandpit. I think the (concrete, of course) barrier is supposed to represent the crater of Mount Fuji.


The swings are also pretty normal. You can't tell in this photo, they're also about 30 cm off the ground which makes it virtually impossible for adults to swing in them. Even short adults. So yeah, this playground isn't so much fun for the parents.


This is about as much graffiti as I've seen anywhere. These characters are from a popular childrens' series. "Exile" means nothing - as do most random English words you see around here.


The park is teeming with stray cats. These ones were kittens in October. They get fed regularly by a woman who lives nearby.


Pansies. Because they can.


Not too many kids as cute as this one frequent the park, but I seem to be lucky enough to spot her every time I go there.

***** ***** *****
How to get to Takazawa Koen: Take the north exit out of Numazu Station and cross over the road. Turn left and walk about four blocks. You're there. It's on your right. If you haven't spotted it yet, you haven't walked far enough, because you simply can't miss it. It's the only large green thing for miles.

Something I love about Japan

Is the proliferation of 100-yen stores. They are everywhere. Recently E did us the service of discovering another huge one called Seria while she was out with Cassia on a walk. It's got rows and rows and rows of household products, food items, toys, stationery, trinkets and miscellaneous goodies, each of which costs 100 yen. You'll find virtually anything you can imagine that could conceivably be sold at that price.

I have found normal-sized bottles of sweet chilli sauce there!
I have found normal-sized cans of red kidney beans!
I have found packets of pasta there which, while also too small, are still cheaper than anything I've found in the supermarkets!
I have found anti-static spray!
There are bits and pieces galore at Seria and I will find myself going there on a regular basis as Cassia gets older. I can't wait to start making fun stuff with her. Costumes, toys, games, etc. And all for a few hundred yen! Ah, life is good. All I need to do now is find a huge op shop and I'll be set (not that anything would fit me anyway, but that's not the point).

***** ***** *****
Seria is directly opposite the Numazu general post office on the main road through Numazu. (Sorry, I don't know the names of any of the roads around here.) But you can't miss it. The carpark is underneath, and the building has a huge dark green sign painted across the top.

Eight and a half hours

I discovered yesterday that that's about how long I can go without feeding Cassia before my boobs start to protest. Craig and I left her with E for the day while we went off to celebrate our 10th anniversary. Don't you love how I title and preface a post describing how we spent our 10th anniversary with a reference to motherhood? Anyway...

We had a GREAT day! Our aim was to visit an onsen (hot spring) to indulge in the quintessential Japanese experience, and then, if there was time left over, go check out what there was to do in a historic town near the onsen.

So we jumped on a train from Numazu to Atami, which is "the gateway to the Izu Peninsula". Izu is famous for onsen, and there are hundreds of them all over the place. The east coast of Izu is to Japan something like the Gold Coast is to Australia -- a holiday destination with lots of resorts, a good climate, transplanted palm trees to give you the illusion you're in Hawaii, and beautiful views out to the ocean. That's where the similarity ends though, because Izu is nowhere near as built up as the Gold Coast and it's full of steep hills and rocky outcrops which make it far more tasteful and pleasant on the eye. Anyway, there's a train line running all the way down the east coast to a town called Shimoda. It's a private line and a lot of the trains are specially designed with panoramic windows and seats that face outwards so that you can sit and enjoy the view.

The idea was to get off at Kawazu, from where we would catch a bus that would drop us off right outside the onsen. Craig had studied the train and bus timetables very carefully the night before and worked out exactly which train we'd need to catch in order to get on the connecting bus which would maximise our time at the onsen. (One of the catches with using public transport around Izu is that it's infrequent and relatively slow.) He hadn't factored in the possibility that we would be lulled into a trance on the train and find ourselves staring at the sign on the platform saying "Kawazu" and thinking, Hmmm, Kawazu, now why is that name familiar? and only just realising we were meant to be getting off there as the train pulled out of the station again.

After a bit of panic and feeling like the world's stupidest gaijin being hurtled helplessly away from our comfort zone like those poor suckers who find themselves the victims of Japanese practical jokes you see if you put "bizarre Japanese TV" into youtube's search function, we wondered if we'd be able to walk back to Kawazu from the next station in enough time to still make the bus (our hopes of which faded very quickly as the train raced through tunnels for a solid five minutes before getting to the next station). We figured there was nothing else to do but jump on the first train going back in the other direction and just hope we might make the next bus to the onsen. So we hopped sheepishly off the train, knowing that one day we'd think this was funny. After all, it wouldn't be Craig and Nat if we didn't get ourselves into scrapes like this, would it? Much to our relief and amusement the next train came into view within a minute. As the line is only one track wide, this meant that the train we'd just been on had to wait on its side of the platform until the other one had pulled up at the station. We can only wonder what the passengers on the carriage we'd been on were thinking as they saw us jump straight back on the train headed in the direction we'd just come from.

Anyway, the rest of the trip was straightforward, which we were happy about. The expectation for most onsen is that you'll strip right down to the nuddy, but we were far too inhibited for that kind of thing, and chose Amagiso because it was advertised as one where you actually do wear bathers. They also reckoned it had great views, and wasn't too crowded or expensive, so we felt like we were onto a winner. And we weren't disappointed. Amagiso was beautiful!!

You know how the first time you do something new, you feel really self conscious? We felt a bit like that as we were instructed to take off our shoes, step into the change rooms, change into our suimin-gia (that's a hard "g" sound - work it out for yourself), come back out, don some sandaru (sandals) provided by the establishment, and then make the trek down the side of the gorge to the pools. But it was worth it. Nothing like a bit of soaking in a hot spring to help you relax! There were several different pools there of temperatures varying from 38 to 49 degrees. We jumped into the 49 degree one first -- well, eased ourselves in gently -- although I'm not sure if that was the smartest way to do it. Anyway, the contrast between it and the 38 degree one was amazing. I usually think 38 degrees is very warm, but it felt almost cool in comparison. (It was also in a cave, which was the other kind of cool.)


See that black hole towards the bottom right of the photo? That's the entrance to the cave pool.


This is the 49 degree pool. They've built a little enclosure around it, but the side the photo has been taken from is totally open to a view of the waterfall and river.


Some more outdoor pools. Niiiiiiiiiiiiice.

After we'd had our fill of soaking in hot tubs we headed back to Kawazu for lunch. There wasn't much open -- it was already after 2 p.m. and a lot of places close up for the first week of January anyway -- but we found a sushi restuarant nearby which featured extremely fresh and potent locally produced wasabi, so we were able to continue our very Japanese experience. We scored eight pairs of chopsticks as we were leaving, although whether that was a standard parting gift to all customers or just something the guy thought we deserved after Craig's stellar efforts at speaking Japanese and admiring the local wasabi, we're still not sure.

There were still a few hours in the day, so we jumped back on the train and headed to Shimoda, which is famous for being the place that was first used as a trading port by America when Japan opened up to the West in the 1850s. It's got some interesting little things to see and do, and we killed a bit of time there by walking around the headland which has a view with, according to our guidebook, "refreshingly little concrete in sight, although not entirely unspoiled by a large resort hotel". It lived up to its description. More amusing to us was the sight of the utterly delapidated "Shimoda Grand Hotel" with its rusted outer staircase, boarded up front gate and puzzlingly new-looking sign with shrubbery growing over it.





We got home a bit after 7:00 p.m., by which time I was about to explode with milky goodness, to a very cheerful Cassia and E, who had been nice enough to even cook dinner in our absence. Cassia didn't miss us at all! I felt a bit torn about that. Pleased that she's confident enough to go a whole day without me, but miffed that she didn't want to sit in my lap and cuddle the rest of the evening. (And also wondering why it is she's so clingy to me when I am home, since she can obviously go without boobies for much longer than I can go without feeding her!)

Climbing Mount Kanuki

Mt Kanuki is Numazu's local peak. It's a modest 193 metres high, and there's a road at least half way up it and the rest of the climb is on a well-cut path, but lest you think this is complete cop-out hiking, it's very steep. (OK fine, it's complete cop-out hiking. I'm just unfit. There, I said it. But it is steep.) Anyway, the views of Numazu and Mount Fuji to the north are pretty nice, especially on a clear sunny day like the one we had. We rode our bikes... oh all right, Craig rode his bike with Cassia on it, while E and I walked our bikes to the half-way point, and then we walked the rest of it. And yes, I walked it, and yes, I was carrying Cassia in the Ergo and yes, I complained. A lot. Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yeah, the views. Well, here are some of our photos.


This says "rakusekikiken atamanouenichuui". I'm sure there are meant to be more spaces in there, but I don't know where they go, and I don't know what it means but I'm guessing something along the lines of Warning, stubbing your toes on the falling rocks will cause a nuclear explosion and you will find yourself saying "Ichuui!". See I told you it was a tough climb.


This is the view about a third of the way up. You can't quite see our apartment here so I won't bother pointing it out to you.


At the top. That's Numazu down below, and Fuji-san in the background, in case you weren't sure. It's the side of the mountain you never see in postcards, partly because there's that other big hill obstructing the view, but also because the old crater from a previous eruption interrupts its aesthetic symmetrical beauty. Or something.


This is from the viewing tower at the top of Kanukiyama. I was being a bit arty-farty.



This is another picture from the third-way point. You can see our apartment in this one. Look at the building just to the right of centre. (The brown one.) Look at the very top left corner of the building, then trace down three levels. That's us!! (Yeah, OK, I realise you probably need to see a full-screen version of this photo at full resolution, but that would take way too long to upload. So you'll just have to trust me. We'll leave a bright red towel hanging over our balcony next time to prove it.)

***** ***** *****
How to get to Kanukiyama by bike: South of Numazu station, take a left and then right onto the next main road. Cross over the river and turn immediately to your left. Ride along the river to the next bridge, then turn right. Follow that road down til you see the sign photographed at the top of this post. Alternatively, post me a comment giving me your email address and requesting a map, and I'll send one to you.

My Ring bike shop

If you happen to find yourself in Numazu during your travels around the most exciting and happening places of the world and in need of a bicycle, go to My Ring bike shop. The man running the store speaks English and is very nice to deal with. You can buy or rent a bike (hire fee 300 yen per hour, which is peanuts), or get your own bike repaired there. My personal experience today was that I took my bike in for a repair, he fiddled with it for a bit and then said he'd need to order in an extra part for it which would take four days and I could borrow one of his bikes while mine was out of action. He didn't ask for a deposit, or to see my passport, or anything for that matter. I was very impressed. The Numazu Traveler has said everything else there is to know about My Ring so you can find more useful information including how to get there here.

Shosenkyo Gorge

Last Sunday we took a trip here. Go on, click on the link, just to see the photos. Then you can come straight back and continue reading this post. I'll wait...

waiting...

still waiting...

Done it yet?

OK, so you would have seen that the photos are very beautiful and make you wonder what sort of colour enhancement feature they used in Photoshop. They say that the best time of year to go is late October to mid November. We went on the 23rd of November, so we only missed the "best" window by a week. Here's a snippet of what we saw (and I promise that none of these photos have been enhanced at all):













Pretty noice, hey?

***** ****** *****

To get to Shosenkyo Gorge from Numazu, take the Shizuoka train to Fuji, and then another train from Fuji to Kofu. Buses leave outside Kofu station to the gorge. There are more details about the buses (and trains) on that website I posted a link to.

Lions and tigers and bears

Going through this blog I realise that I forgot to mention an outing we took a couple of months ago to Fuji Safari Park. I'd include a link to the website except it's all in Japanese. Anyway, a picture tells a thousand words, so here are a few:


Ummm.....


Oookaaaay......


Are lions perhaps the most impressive animals on the planet?


That's a piece of fruit at the end of a giant pair of tongs. Craig's hand was at the other end.


Now WE did it the fun way. The poor suckers who drive through this place not only are not allowed to open their windows or get out of their cars, but they're not even allowed to stop and drink in whatever spectacle happens to be before them (lucky they don't have to pay extra to drive through).




It's a hard life!


Are meerkats perhaps the funniest animals on the planet?


Can't get away from 'em even in Japan! Well, I guess no-one in Australia wants albino kangaroos anyway.


The quintessential Japanese scene in the background... with some quintessential Australiana in the foreground.

So, how do you get to Fuji Safari Park from Numazu? You take the Kozu train to Gotemba, and from there a bus right to the front door of the zoo. The train takes about half an hour and the bus takes about 45 minutes (from memory -- sorry, it was a while ago now).

Gimme another layer

Japan has a passionate but destructive and entirely codependent relationship with packaging. Especially plastic packaging. It drives me insane, but I keep forgetting to learn how to say "no bag thanks" and most of the time the checkout person has already wrapped something up before I've even noticed.

Example: Yesterday I bought a whole bunch of groceries at the supermarket that included two packets of fried tofu. This tofu was packaged in air and watertight plastic wrapping. And yet the checkout woman still felt it necessary to wrap them in a second plastic bag before putting them in my shopping bag (which was a reuseable cloth bag, but only because I brought my own).

Another example: Recently I bought a new toothbrush. It came in a cardboard-backed plastic bubble package. At the checkout it was wrapped in another layer of plastic all by itself.

Another example, although admittedly not involving quite as much plastic: Within our first week of being here we bought a couple of kitchen pots. The pots and lids were individually wrapped in plastic, which then went in cardboard boxes, which were then wrapped in paper, which were then carefully placed in large thick paper bags with handles for us to take home. And just in case the paper bag suddenly popped open and embarrassingly spilled its contents on the ground in a public place, the paper bag was sealed shut with a piece of sticky tape.

Favourite example: A while ago I bought cotton buds. A pack of 200, which came in 8 individually wrapped packs of 25. So that's already two layers of plastic between the cotton buds and the outside world. At the checkout? You guessed it, another individual plastic bag before going in the main (plastic) shopping bag.

GAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!

And then to accomodate this excessive use of petroleum byproducts, the country has devised an elaborate and time-consuming waste disposal system that requires strict adherence to the rules to actually work. Remember this post?

Now before you go and tell me all your anecdotes about checkout people in Australia (and elsewhere) who like to put anything used to clean things in a separate plastic bag before putting it in the main shopping bag, regardless of how well its primary package, bottle, wrapping or other confinement does the job of holding it in, I already know. All I'm saying is, Japan has turned packaging into a cultural phenomenon.

The things you take for granted

You know what I have come to love about Australia? The money is colourful. There's no chance of mistaking a $5 note for a $10 or a $20 because one's pink, another is blue and the other is orange. And they're noticeably different sizes too, just in case you are stupid (or colourblind).

I don't know if there are any other countries that do that. Japan certainly doesn't.

And because I am stupid, I have on three different occasions handed over a 10,000 yen note with a few coins for something that cost between 1000 and 1500 yen. Good thing the Japanese are so polite they don't point out your dumbness (and so honest they don't take advantage of you).

I've made a friend!

AND what's more, I've discovered that there are play groups ALL OVER Numazu that are run all day every day for FREE!!

So at last week's kids' activity in the park I met another woman, L. Her situation is similar to mine; her husband has a job here in Japan and she's stuck at home with her toddler son, looking for stuff to do. She's from Laos (Laotian?) but speaks English well and her husband is American. They've been in Numazu since earlier this year and in Japan for longer. Anyway, L knew a lot more of the ropes around here than I did, and told me about a play group called Poppo right near the train station. We made a date to go there together, and that happened yesterday.

Poppo was cooooooool. A nice big room with heaps of different toys and activities for little kids to play around with at their leisure. Twice in the day they have music and dancing followed by story time - in Japanese of course. I can hardly believe that a) this sort of thing is available all over the place totally free and b) I knew nothing about it until now. But hey! It's great, and I will definitely be going back.

***** ***** *****
Location of Poppo for anyone googling playgroups in Numazu: On the fourth floor of the building next to Lawson (the convenience store) on the left immediately south of Numazu station. The building is on the corner of that block for added reference. If you use the main elevators, Poppo will greet you enthusiastically as soon as the doors open. The main elevators are well inside the building though, so you have to go for a little walk around the corridor to find them. Poppo is open every day of the week except Wednesday, from 10:00 a.m. til 5:00 p.m.

Yay for blackouts

On Thursday night I was about to start cooking dinner -- well, actually I had already started by chopping the onions and capsicum and putting them on the stove, but the pan hadn't even warmed up yet -- when the power went out. Our whole apartment block was in darkness. Interesting the sort of things that bring a community together. We stood out on the balcony and could see and hear people running up and down the corridors and stairs, jabbering at each other and shining torches, or just standing around doing nothing. Having no idea how long this situation would last I said to Craig "D'oh! I guess this means we're going to have to go out for dinner."

Craig agreed that this was a burden we'd have to bravely shoulder, and said "So, what would you like?"
"Something not Japanese," I replied.
"Indian?"
"Yep."

So we wandered down to this nifty little Indian restuarant called Aladdin we had found on our first night in Numazu. As well as having typically delicious Indian flavours (and when they say something is hot it actually is! That's something else I've really missed here in Japan; they simply Don't Do Spicy), this restuarant serves the most enormous pieces of naan bread you ever did see. So for a decent price, apart from their imported Indian beers which I really didn't care about anyway, you get a great meal which you didn't have to cook yourself. Love it.

And on our return home, the power was back on.

***** ***** *****
ETA: I guess I should explain the location of this restuarant for anyone who happens to find themselves in Numazu one day and wondering what to eat. Um, I haven't learned the names of the streets around here. But you walk up that main street north and slightly west of Numazu Station (the one that leads to Ishibashi Plaza), and take the second street on the left. It's about four shopfronts along on the north side of the street. (Just look for the sign saying "Aladdin".) Less than five minutes walk from the station.

Taiko drums

I have mentioned before that there is a park across the street from us. Last weekend it was the site of some sort of cultural festival. Not sure exactly what, but on Saturday night we could hear lots of music and voices over the loudspeaker, so we decided to wander down there and check it out. They had set up a temporary stage, and when we arrived there were four old women dressed in traditional kimono with fans, performing a dance (didn't think to get a photo, unfortunately).

When their number was over, a large group of teenagers dressed in what looked to us like black karate outfits started preparing for their act. This involved putting drums of varying sizes in specific locations on the stage. When they rolled out "the big one" (it took two kids to carry it, and was set up on a stand of its own), we figured this was definitely going to be interesting enough to stick around for.

The performance was an extremely impressive display of high-precision, choreographed drumming. Craig struck up a conversation in English with a man standing next to him who turned out to be the students' teacher; they were performing on traditional taiko drums.

I haven't done a lot of research into taiko, but it appears that they have existed for centuries and are associated with Japanese martial arts. Perhaps that would explain why the students were dressed the way they were; they even had rather warlike white belts tied around their heads. Later on all the boys took their shirts off which kind of added to the "look" -- although maybe that was just to cool down because the drumming was pretty vigorous (too bad for the girls!). In more recent decades, taiko performances of the sort we witnessed have become very popular. And no wonder! They are really, really cool.

Kore wa nan des ka? (What is this?)

In the interests of being culturally enlightened, I bought this vegetable at the supermarket.

This is what it looked like inside. The outer green section was watery and
crunchy, a bit like the white flesh of a watermelon just before you get to the pink bit. The inner white section was slightly spongy, like raw zucchini. The seeds reminded me a lot of pumpkin seeds. I had no idea if you were meant to eat it raw or cooked, but I figured I'd try raw first and if that was horrible, cook it to see if it improved. The verdict? Scroll down.

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Pah! Amazing Cassia sucked on it as long as she did (long enough to get this photo and that was it). About the bitterest thing I've ever tasted.

The inevitable conclusion. And no, cooking didn't improve it.

Curiously enough, we found it at the smorgasbord restaurant we went to last week, cleverly disguised as a tempura (deep fried in light batter) vegetable. It was still revolting.

And it's called a goya, by the way. Apparently it's an acquired taste.