Tuesday, September 30, 2008

Dancing with a dolphin

Kei's birthday treat at Adventure World in Shirahama, a couple of hours' drive from Osaka. (He's the smallest child in the middle.)

Monday, August 4, 2008

Taiwan photos

Life has just been too busy to blog! Not so much because Kentaro is now living in Shizuoka - he was around so little before that in practical terms it makes almost no difference to our daily lives (although of course we miss him lots) - but because since April I've been teaching a university class in translation in addition to a tutorial group for postgraduates in scientific English, and the preparation and marking time have taken away every spare minute I had (and there weren't many of those to start with). So apologies to those faithful family members and friends who have been checking in periodically, only to find nothing new since March. We are still here and still well, and the boys are growing up apace.

Kentaro actually has two weeks' proper holiday in his new job, one week in summer and one in winter, which is a fantastic change. We used his summer vacation time to take a family trip to Taiwan, somewhere we'd never been before. Despite a typhoon that covered literally the whole island for the first three days and put paid to a planned trip to the east coast, it was a great trip. Below are a few photos to give you a taste.



We flew EVA Air, which has Hello Kitty as its logo. It felt a bit surreal to fly on a plane with a pink kitten on the side, but it was a good flight and the crew were very friendly.






The day after we arrived we went up Taipei 101, currently the tallest tower in the world. It's due to be overtaken by a skyscraper in Dubai next year, but at least we went up while it still holds the record!









The view from the top.











The boys enjoyed writing postcards at the top of the tower.












Lunch in the food court. The boys were still having a bit of a hard time adjusting, and insisted on familiar food - sushi for Kei, McDonalds for Dan. Kentaro and I were already enjoying Taiwanese chicken and rice.






Kei took this photo of us in holiday mood outside Taipei 101.







The typhoon was approaching and the wind was already pretty strong, so we headed to the National Taiwan Science Education Center, where the boys had great fun with all the hands-on exhibits, a 3D movie (Dan's favorite part of the entire trip), and an entire floor of bouncy-castle-type large inflatable structures. I wish I'd taken some photos of those, as they were so much fun.




The next day the typhoon hit. We had been due to go to Hualien, on the east coast, but all the trains were cancelled that morning. The hotel receptionist told us that services were due to be restored that afternoon, so we checked out, left our luggage at the main station, and went to see the new Pixar movie WALL-E in an almost deserted cinema. When we got back to the station, though, it turned out the afternoon trains had been cancelled too, so back we went to the hotel. The staff were highly apologetic and gave us a better room for the same price, with a huge jacuzzi in the bathroom that made a nice end to a frustrating day.

By the Tuesday the worst of the typhoon was past, but the weather was still cloudy and wet. We headed out on a day trip to Jinguashi and Jiufen, two old gold-mining towns on the north coast about an hour out of Taipei.


The landscape was green and mountainous, very similar to Japan's but with more tropical vegetation.



Jinguashi was the more interesting place of the two. The town has been turned into a "Gold Ecological Park," with the old mining buildings (dating from the Japanese colonial period) restored and one of the tunnels converted into a recreation of the mining process for tourists. Kei was especially excited to be able to touch a huge bar of gold in the Gold Museum.





We were a bit too tired to really enjoy Jiufen. It's a tourist town, with a covered arcade lined with food and souvenir shops and some steep steps that were the inspiration for the landscape in the animated film "Spirited Away." In this photo the boys are eating real crisps - a whole potato sliced thinly, stuck on a single stick, deep-fried, and dusted with curry powder.





The next morning we paid a quick visit to the Sun Yat-Sen Memorial Hall. It's an imposing building, set in a big park that gave the boys plenty of space to run around. They enjoyed standing to attention next to the guards, and watching the marching and rifle-twirling that accompanied the changeover to a new pair.














































Then we flew out to Penghu, a small archipelago of islands off Taiwan's west coast. We stayed in a guesthouse near the beach, one of four run by a wonderful young couple called Maco and Anna (you can see their Web site here). Our room was actually in their home, which they share with Maco's parents as well as his brother, sister-in-law and little niece. They were all unbelievably friendly and warm, offering us advice and practical help at every turn. In the photo, Maco is next to Kei; his sister-in-law and niece are next to Kentaro, and his mother and father are on the right.


















The islands are low and scrubby, covered by grass, aloe, and cactus. The beaches are lovely, with fine coral sand and hardly any people.

























We borrowed life-jackets for the boys, as the surf was still strong after the typhoon.





















This, believe it or not, is a single banyan tree. It's 300 years old, and the roots growing down from its branches have developed into more than 100 pillars. We tried to find the original trunk, but it was impossible to tell which it was.
The stalls around the temple behind the tree sell cactus-fruit sorbet, which is surprisingly delicious with a sour-sweet taste reminiscent of blackberries.



Sunset from the seawall at Makung, the main town on the island.







The town has an old ferry that has been turned into a shop for souvenirs and marine products, with navigation equipment on the bridge that kids can pretend to operate. The boys loved being ferry captains for an evening!






Maco took us snorkeling on our last morning. The water was very clear, and we saw many small, brightly colored fish. We swam out to look at the coral reef about 30 meters offshore, but Maco said much of the coral is dying - whether because of the unseasonably cold previous winter, global warming, or some other reason, he's not sure.




Maco and Anna took us to the airport to say goodbye. They had already become such good friends that Kei cried when we left.

Monday, March 24, 2008

Funny sort of Easter

For the first time in my life, Easter basically didn't happen to our family this year. We spent it moving Kentaro's stuff to his new hospital, four hours up the expressway. Easter came much earlier than usual in any case, and my usual source of Cadbury's chocolate eggs, the FBC Britshop, closed down last year because of the strong pound (sniff). Seventeen years away from the UK have finally accustomed me to Good Friday being a normal working day, but until last year I'd always been to church on Easter Sunday. This year, we were camping out in sleeping bags in Kentaro's new house on the hospital grounds, doing without a bath as the gas wasn't connected, and rushing to go shopping at the nearest big home center before returning the rented van to the rental company by lunchtime and driving back down to Osaka in our own car.

I did manage to make hot cross buns. I feel a bit proud of myself for that; sneaking a tiny taste of British Easter into the rush and stress of getting a van, a car, two kids, appliances (many kindly given us for free by friends who were leaving the country), furniture, books, futons, and miscellaneous stuff loaded up and driven to Tokai. I slipped the ingredients into the bread machine after coming back from collecting a free washing machine, shaped the dough in a couple of minutes snatched while loading up the van, and got them into the oven 20 minutes before we were due to leave. They were baked and thrown in a paper bag about two minutes before we ran out of the door to pick up Kei from Saturday school on the way to the expressway. As I drove our car with the kids behind Kentaro in the van, their aroma tantalized us for the entire journey. Early Sunday morning I dug the toaster and coffee maker out of the depths of the van, and offered my Japanese family an Easter breakfast.

Dan didn't like them, and demanded ordinary bread instead. Oh well.

There were times during the weekend when I thought we must have been crazy trying to do this with the kids in tow. It certainly would have been easier to have left them with my parents-in-law and gone up with just the two of us - shopping at the home center without the boys having ear-splitting Pokemon battles up and down the aisles would have been a lot less stressful, for one thing. But I am glad we went up there as a family. Now when Kentaro leaves next weekend at least the boys will have an image of where he's living, and we've left our sleeping bags for when we go up to visit.

Monday, March 10, 2008

I take it all back....

Maybe our local city government isn't so bad after all. Even if their prose is mindnumbingly bureaucratic, at least they're sensible enough to get it properly translated.

One of my jobs today was proofreading a brochure for a different city. Up to about two thirds of the way through the English was at least comprehensible, if not all that grammatical. But then it suddenly turned into sentences like this:

They argue at the equal viewpoint as the engine of which it became independent respectively also though it's exchange of cooperating each other, city council and city chief are making an effort toward improvement of a life of city people

The person whose job it was to produce the English version must have run out of time and just thrown the last part through some translation software. I ended up sending it back to the agency with a plea for them to request the original Japanese; OK, I could have a stab at making some sense out of this, but it would be a creative reconstruction akin to trying to reproduce a portrait of someone's face using nothing but a heap of splintered skull bones.

In a sense it is reassuringly bad, though. At least computers aren't going to be putting us human translators out of a job any time soon.

Friday, March 7, 2008

Comments (please)

A couple of people have told me they've tried to comment on previous posts but haven't been able to, so I've fiddled around with the settings a bit. Hopefully it should work now, so please do have another go! (I love getting comments.)

Thursday, March 6, 2008

So tired

I've been pretty overwhelmed with work the past few days. March is the busiest season for translators, as all our clients are trying to use up their translation budgets by the end of the financial year, so suddenly a whole raft of agencies that might have contacted me three or four times in the past year are emailing and phoning with job offers. I'm having to turn them all down, as my regular clients are keeping me quite busy enough already; tonight is the third night in a row I've been up well past midnight, attempting to turn mindnumbingly bureaucratic prose from the city government Web site into something that's hopefully vaguely readable in English. As the saying goes, though, garbage in, garbage out ... especially at this time of night. Honestly, some of the stuff I've been having to deal with lately makes Vogon poetry sound relatively appealing.

But I did go out for a rare night on the town with three fabulous friends last Saturday evening, and laughed more than I had in what seems like years. If you're reading this, girls, THANK YOU! Now I just have to find a babysitter who can persuade the boys to go to sleep (something even Kentaro can't do - the three of them eventually crashed out together on our bed at nearly midnight, apparently) so we can do it again soon.

Wednesday, February 27, 2008

Turning the tables

It was fun to call my parents in England this evening.

"Did you feel the earthquake? Are you all right?"

Yes, according to the BBC there was a magnitude 5.2 earthquake in England in the middle of last night. England doesn't normally have earthquakes - they're one of those things that may well be regular occurrences in those funny foreign climes, but aren't quite the done thing at home. So usually it's Japan that's shaking, and my mother who's on the phone the next morning trying valiantly to sound unconcerned. The quake was apparently about level 3 intensity in my parents' town, so this time I thought it would be fun if I turned the tables for once.

It turns out they'd slept right through it. Not only that, as they hadn't watched the news yet they didn't even know there had been an earthquake at all. In fact, as soon as she heard the word "earthquake," Mum immediately assumed that there must have been one in Japan and I was calling her to reassure her.

It's actually true to form for our family. The only time Dad ever visited Japan, back in 1992, he slept through an earthquake while he was staying with me in Saitama. And I myself must have been the only person in London to have slept through the hurricane of 1989, when I couldn't understand why public transport wasn't running and there were branches and window glass all over the road as I tried to make my way to work the next morning...

I'm very glad my parents are all right. And next time there's a strongish earthquake somewhere in Japan and they call to see if I'm still alive, I'll be able to tell them not to worry as they've actually slept through one just as big themselves.

Saturday, February 23, 2008

Big change coming

When we bought our house, nearly two years ago, Kentaro said that at some point he'd probably have to go and work at a hospital further away than commuting distance, so he could get his specialist qualification as a pediatric surgeon.

OK, I said, that's fine. We'll do tanshin funin.

Tanshin funin is a fairly common Japanese custom. If a man gets transfered by his company to another part of Japan, frequently he'll go by himself, leaving wife and children in the place they're used to. At first I was a bit shocked by this - from a Western perspective it seemed too much like separation - but now, as a homeowner with kids in the education system, I can see why it works. The housing market works differently from the way it does in the UK and the US; houses depreciate in value like used cars, and land prices have only just stabilized after more than ten years of constant decline, so selling a house inevitably involves losing money. And moving to a new area and new schools is hard on children, particularly for biracial families who inevitably attract unwanted attention.

Louise George Kittaka, another foreign wife, has written a fun article about her own experience with tanshin funin in Tokyo Families. Like her, I've come round to the idea that it can be a positive option, so when Kentaro first mentioned the possibility of his having to move the words fairly tripped off my tongue. At that point, of course, it was all completely hypothetical, some far-off future that might or might not roll around one day.

Now that day's coming. Back last summer, Kentaro's boss and mentor suggested he might consider moving to a children's hospital in the Tokai region, about two hours away by shinkansen. In the Japanese medical world, if your boss makes a suggestion like that, it's pretty close to an order. Kentaro went up to see the hospital and meet the people, and came back impressed; they were equally impressed with him, and offered him a job. Initially he'll be on a one-year contract, which may or may not be extendable; as he needs to work for three years in an accredited institution as part of gaining specialist qualifications, he's hoping to stay there that long at least.

The hospital is in a rural area outside a provincial city. There's very little there. There won't be many other English-speaking families, and there's certainly no international Saturday school like the one Kei attends now. The kids will stand out far more than they do in relatively cosmopolitan Osaka (and they get enough comments here as it is). The boys are thoroughly settled into school and kindergarten respectively, and have made friends in the neighborhood as well as getting involved with local activities - soccer club, calligraphy class, piano lessons. The thought of uprooting them to go to a place where they'll almost certainly stick out as the only biracial children, and then to move them again after some indeterminate period, just doesn't make sense.

That's one reason - the good one - that Kentaro is moving up to Tokai while we're staying here. A more selfish reason is that I love our house too much to want to leave it. Since the age of 17 I've never lived in the same house for more than three years at a time, and that only in our last rented place - before that I'd been moving at least every two years, and often after six months or a year. Now, for the first time, I have a place that's at least partly my own (if you don't count the fact that we've sold our souls to the bank to buy it), and ever since moving in I've been determinedly putting down roots. The thought of selling it or renting it out and going back to poor-quality rented housing fills my gut with something that feels like a lead weight. (Any place we might rent would have to be poor quality, as having a cat rules us out with 99% of landlords.)

Kentaro is ten years younger than me, and as we married and had children while he was still a student he hasn't had the chances to travel and explore options that I have. Now he's ready to spread his wings, just when I'm ready to build a nest for the family. I'd never really felt the full force of our age difference until now. But I don't want to try and stop him moving on; it's important both for his career and for him as a person. So for the next one or two years, at least, we'll be living in different places, trying to work out how his next job can bring us together again.

Tuesday, February 19, 2008

I love Skype...

... it means my mother can read the boys a bedtime story from thousands of miles away.

Friday, February 15, 2008

Catching up (3): Kindergarten play

Dan's class at kindergarten got to put on a play and give a musical performance last weekend. It was pretty impressive, especially compared with the daycare performances I've been used to. Maybe "impressive" is the wrong word. "Ultra-choreographed" might be equally accurate.

Until last April, both Kei and Dan attended daycare in central Osaka, where we lived before moving here. Daycare and kindergarten are two different worlds in Japan. Daycares (hoikuen) are run for working parents and comes under the auspices of the Ministry of Health and Welfare, whereas kindergartens (youchien) are officially educational establishments supervised by the Ministry of Education.When Kei started elementary school I tried to move Dan into a daycare in our present city, but waiting lists for good places are long, and he didn't get into any of the ones I would have liked him to go to. So we made the decision to switch him to kindergarten, and were lucky enough to persuade the principal at a highly regarded local kindergarten to allow him to enter at very short notice.

The daycare in Osaka was run by a Christian organization, and they put on a show each Christmas that included both a nativity play by the five- and six-year-olds and a performance of some sort by each class, including the younger children. The plays by the younger classes tended to be rather chaotic affairs, with lots of running around and singing songs at the tops of their voices. Only the oldest class got to say individual lines, and those just in the nativity play. I'd always thought that was fine - the kids enjoyed themselves, there wasn't much pressure, and it was all nicely age-appropriate. I had no idea that more could even be expected from four-year-olds, until the kindergarten play last weekend.

I think I've mentioned before that Dan's kindergarten is very big on "training." You could see it immediately in the way the kids filed in in their identical uniforms to begin the event with musical numbers, standing carefully in their prescribed places and looking straight ahead. A few gave quick waves to their parents, but among the three pages of information that we'd been given in advance were strict instructions not to wave back, as this would distract the children from their performance. Dan found us with his eyes - you could tell from his smile he'd seen where we were - but quickly returned to his concentrated pose.

They played percussion instruments in perfect time to the song "Bibbety Bobbety Boo" and sang a couple of songs before bowing in unison and filing offstage to change for their play, "The Giant Turnip." The turnip itself had been a class craft project the previous term, and was quite impressive in its own right.



I was amazed by how much the kids achieved in the play. Not only did each of them have at least one line of their own to say, there were also several songs and dances by small groups. Dan was one of three children playing the sun. He did really well, concentrating intently and obviously making a huge effort to get his lines and the little group's song and dance right.



The kindergarten had adapted the story so that not only the people and animals but also the butterflies, the sun, and finally the class teacher had to join the line before the turnip finally came out. Then of course they had to end with a final song.



The whole thing left me slightly dazed. Part of me was really impressed that the children had been able to concentrate so well and remember everything they had to do - out of a class of 23, only three or four were too shy or forgetful to get their lines right. Another part, though, was slightly nostalgic for the vitality and semi-chaos of the daycare performances. Should we really be expecting that degree of achievement from three- and four-year-olds? It all felt a little over the top. But it seems that by putting Dan in a "good" kindergarten, this is the choice we've made.

Wednesday, February 13, 2008

Catching up (2): Kachoen

These are some of my favorite recent photographs of the boys, taken on a day out a couple of weeks ago to Kachoen on Port Island in Kobe. "Kachoen" means "flower and bird park," and that's literally what it is - a huge, warm greenhouse filled with colorful flowers and with several areas where you can watch, feed, and even touch exotic birds. It was a great antidote to the winter blues on a cold, wet Sunday afternoon. (Even the penguins were shivering - they're a South African variety, and they liked the Kansai sleet as little as we did!)









Monday, February 11, 2008

Catching up (1): Skating

I'm going to try and post every day or two this week, to catch up on what's been happening with us this year so far. To start with, here's a clip of the boys and Kentaro on the ice, taken in January when we visited Kentaro's parents after coming back from England. Though there's no rink within easy distance of where we live, there's one very close to their house, and skating has become one of our regular activities whenever we visit in winter. The boys' different personalities are really apparent here: Dan toddles quietly around like a little penguin as he concentrates on staying upright, while Kei swoops,cavorts, twirls, and frequently falls flat on his bottom. Solid achievement versus thrills and spills - if this carries on into adulthood, it's easy to imagine who's more likely to have the conventional career, and who is going to have an unpredictable, rollercoaster ride in life. (Note to self: MUST stop pigeonholing these boys according to my own narrative of who they are, before they start to believe it themselves...)


Saturday, February 9, 2008

Better late than never

The mood for blogging comes and goes, but with the coming of winter it's seemed to disappear into hibernation. I love browsing what other people are writing, but never seem to pull the energy together to put anything on myself. And the longer I leave it, the more guilty I feel, so the less I want to think about it. Then things happen that I do want to blog about, but I can't because there's other stuff that needs putting up first, so the list gets longer and longer, and the guilt grows exponentially ... ah, the joys of being an inveterate procrastinator.

So here's some pictures from Christmas in England that will at least start to clear the backlog. OK, we've already been back for six weeks, and a lot has happened since, but hopefully I'll get around to that a bit more quickly once these are up.

I took the kids out of school and kindergarten for the final week of term, and flew back with them to spend Christmas and New Year with my parents. The British Christmas experience is un-recreatable in Japan, and it was something I really wanted the boys to have as part of their childhood memories. The last time we were in England for Christmas was when Dan was a small baby and Kei was three, so neither of them really remembered it. This time they were both old enough to appreciate the tree and the turkey, mince pies and Christmas cake, a party in the municipal hall and the pantomime at the theatre. We managed to fit in seeing my brother and his family several times, as well as making a couple of visits to old friends.

Kentaro used his New Year's holiday to join us just for the last four days. The poor guy didn't even have time to get over jetlag before we had to leave again - but at least he did get to see my parents for the first time in a couple of years.


The Christmas tree.









Making the Christmas cake.












The finished result.











My father carving the Christmas turkey.











What's in the cracker?










A keyring!