Observations from Korean drama, "Only You"

Who knew that the secret to winning a 100 million won cooking prize was to add a green tea bag and bean sprouts to instant noodles? And that winning and instant noodle cooking contest could win you an all-expenses paid cooking school experience in Venice?!

Eunjae's mom is the toughest mother i've seen in all dramas by far. She represents the average Korean woman outside of the big cities--truck operating, hitting, tough talking, sidewalk spitting, soju drinking...

How realistic is it than an aspiring chef can't even tie her own shoes? That's not "cute" that's a learning disability on a kinesthetic level.

Whenever they show scenes of a young Chaebol guy working in his Chaebol office, don’t you notice that he’s always looking at physical pieces of paper rather than a computer? In fact, he usually doesn’t even have a computer on his desk! Korea has the #1 broadband network in all of Asia, yet these guys aren’t given desktop computers for their work?

Why is it that father-less children are named similarly? Jingoo (Only You), and Jinju (Creating Destiny). Coincidence?

I want to eat Honeyjoon’s mom’s chili paste with cream pasta. It looks so good. It brings grown men near to tears.

Koreans can be so invasive with physical space, yet there is still somehow a buffer to keeping personal information. Like, it's amazing that Eunjae’s parents don’t even know who Jingoo’s father is!?! Not even a hint!

What keeps our attention in these dramas? The heightened tension when the most OBVIOUS questions are not asked nor answered. When Honeyjoon confronts Eunjae about the father of her baby, he asks only two questions: 1. Is it Hyunsung's 2. Is it from another boyfriend? Um, hello, why not ask, “Is it MINE?!?”

Going back to personal space, women don’t share information of the father’s of their children, but they sure have no problem not only checking who’s calling on other people’s cell phones, but they also like to ANSWER it as well! This is a writer’s trick to quickly show to others that two people are in fact, hanging out together.

When they show people driving, do you ever take a look at the outside scenery? Don't you notice they're actually going r-e-a-l-l-y slow and the drivers look away from the road a lot? Clear and obvious indication that they’re being TOWED with a mounted camera on the back of a truck.

There needs to be a support group or classes for Korean 2nd Bananas. Maybe some of the groups could be called, "I Have No Pride When it Comes to You." "Where is My Will?" "How Did I Get So Whipped When All I've Done Was Hold Her Hand...Once?" Or the probable most popular class, "Um, Hello, There are at Least 10 Million Other Women in Seoul?!"

Whenever they show families sitting to eat in the living room, do you ever notice that everyone crowds around ONE side of the table? There's no live audience, so no need to leave one side of the table open....

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry when i saw the way she cooked pasta that was stuffed inside the chicken, especially when she was using the fork to take it out. Ewwww on so many levels.

I noticed a hand santitizer spray that was at the bottom of the restaurant greeting podium at the front door of the Italian N1 restaurant. Interesting. “Hi, welcome to Italian N1, will you please clean your hands before you eat our food?”

And that's all for now. Stay tuned for the next volume!

Top 10 Annoying Facebook Posts

Yes, I know we have controls on which posts we see/don't see, but really:

1. ...ran 5 miles at 6 a.m.

Really?

2. ....has a burrito (insert any food here) belly.

Gross!

3. ...just checked in at the Four Seasons Maui. 2 weeks of paradise!

Do I have to explain?

4. ...my innocent perfect children love me more than life itself!

Accompanying this...1-2 minute videos of the kid picking up a toy truck off the driveway, running down the street, looking at nothing, etc.

5. ...is reeling from the worst thing that happened to me in ages.

OK..what?!?

6. ...went to the store to get some eggs and scallions but ran into a friend who told me that she's had knee surgery which reminds me of my former co-worker who tore her ACL while skiing but is now OK and living in Baltimore i think?

Self-explanatory

7. ...couldn't hold down her lunch today.

GROSS!!!

8. ...you're a serious tool, man, springboard

Um, OK. Wtf? Random senseless posts are so compelling, especially when this type of person has more than 400 "friends."

9. ...would like to start dating again but has to get medication for ugly dry skin patches.

TMI.

10....can't think of anything witty to post.

OK, so don't!

And yes, I do realise we can "hide" certain or all posts for certain friends. This is revealing a whole new dating phenomenon. How could one date someone who is a "top 10" type of FB poster?

Ivar's

This is what we need in the Bay Area--fresh Pacific Northwest seafood deep fried to perfection. I've yet to have a comparable fish and chips experience like Ivar's.

Back in the day, we used to choose between Skippers and Ivar's. For some reason, we always went to Skippers. I remember the fishnet floor and the ahoy there atmosphere.

I've been to Legal Seafoods in Boston, and I can honestly say that it does not compare to what you find in the Pacific Northwest.

2010 Revival

It's been a while. Facebook, school, work, endings, new beginnings, tough realisations, new friends, gaps and longings...

Penny is back.

Facebook, Playdates for Adults?

It has been ages since I've last posted. I've now got a Facebook page but my queries are confined to ridiculous "quizzes" which help you to understand, "What font are you?" "What character in Star Trek are you?" "What kind of cheese are you?" You take the quiz and your friends comment.

It's a structured social playground. Like a play date for adults. Scheduled and structured social participation.

And I'm still mildly addicted. I have yet to find out how to manage the updates. I don't need to know the daily status points of a bored housewife acquaintance. "I need a nap." Or, "What's that piece of cheese doing on the sofa?"

I rarely post a status. Mostly you might see, "Penny is..." And not because I'm trying to be cute, but I can't figure out how to prevent myself from updating my status unintentionally.

Other weird things on Facebook:

-Why did my ex- invite my parents to FB? They promptly signed up, knowing nothing about Facebook and suddenly they appear as my ex's friends!?
-Why does my ex's new gf want to constantly post on my wall (I've now discovered how to "hide" my wall. Woo hoo)
-Why do people put their name, email, phone, photo, and birthdate on their profile?
-Why did i initially think it was fun to add people from high school? (I ended up de-friending most of them, this was before i discovered the privacy tools)

Anyway. Am back to my blog. It is like an old friend. My log of life.

Discourse

I once taught an English conversation class that was 50% Brasilian/Mexican and 50% Japanese and Korean. Guess which group was more outspoken? If you guessed the Brasilians, you would be correct. The Brasilians dominated the class, demanded my attention, and kept up a lively energy in the classroom. The Asian students were quieter and more reserved. It was definitely unbalanced.

Before you jump to the default "Asians are quiet and shy" stereotype, listen...

What do you think the Brasilians thought of their Asian classmates? They complained about their lack of participation. "Why are they so quiet?," they asked me, "Don't they like us?" "Why are they so shy?" The Asian students said, "They are so loud, why do they not let anyone else speak?"

In the next class I brought in a basketball, a "bowling ball," and a rugby ball. "Today," I announced, "We're doing to learn about discourse styles." For all of you English teachers out there, yes, I'm referring to the work of Susan Steinbach!

"Discourse styles? What is discourse?" Silvana shouted out. Well, not shouted, but you get the picture.

"Discourse is the way people communicate, I'm talking about conversatoin styles. We're going to talk about how different cultures communicate." I explained.

I had a few students come up and demonstrate (without speaking) a round of bowling. One student took the ball, stepped ahead of the others and "rolled the ball" down the lane. When he was done, another student stepped forward. I then jumped in. "What if I were to grab the ball out of the hands of the one bowling? Is that acceptable?" Everyone agreed that doing so would be rude.

I next had students demonstrate basketball. One student held the ball, and 2 others were trying to steal the it from her. She then started down the "court," and another student stole the ball and took off in the opposite direction. "Is it OK to steal the ball in this situation? Is it OK for everyone to grasp at the ball at the same time?" Everyone agreed that this was acceptable.

I finally had a small group demonstrate a rugby scrum--minus the violence. A student grabbed the ball and started "running down the field." Another student jumped in, pushed him aside, and stole the ball. Another student pretended to knock that student to the ground, and went in another direction. "What's going on here?" I asked. "Chaos," a few students replied. "Is it OK to steal the ball? change directions? Push people in order to get to the ball?" Everyone agreed that this was acceptable.

I later talked about the work of Susan Steinbach. She is an English teacher who described discourse styles in terms of sports.

Bowling reflects the conversation styles of "high-context" and hierarchical cultures. Turn-taking is very important. It is considered rude to just break into a conversation. This is typical of some Asian cultures, Swiss German culture, according to Steinbach.

Basketball represents the conversation style of North Americans, Australias, and British. Conversations can be fast paced, can change direction, and the object is to speak and be heard.

Rugby represents a conversation style in countries like Latin America, Greece, or Russia. It is normal and acceptable to interrrupt, raise your voice, and start speaking while others are still speaking. Consider where the weather is hot (or cold, in the case of Russia) and the food is spicy---you'll probably find a rugby style of conversation.

Afterwards, it was understood that the Asian students aren't necessarily "quiet" or "shy," but they were waiting their turn to speak. Brasilians realised that they needed to allow for others to jump in. The Asian students began to take chances--they jumped into conversations, and spoke out a lot more.

It is interesting to think of the "sports" we play in our lives. Being from where I'm from, we're rubgy players all the way....

Metroethnicity

So I've got a multiethnic background and am a hybrid of a few different cultures. What is foreign to me is being rooted in one culture or country with blood relations and knowledge of a "homeland," (region of a country), ancestors, and lineage. In terms of my ethnicity, it has always been a contruct I'm piecing together...

I've recently read a very interesting article called, "Metroethnicity, language, and the principle of Cool," by John Maher.

Here is an excerpt:

"Metroethnicity is a reconstruction of ethnicity: a hybridized ‘‘street’’ ethnicity deployed by a cross-section of people with ethnic or mainstream backgrounds who are oriented towards cultural hybridity, cultural/ethnic tolerance and a multicultural lifestyle in friendships, music, the arts, eating and dress."

No surprises here... The article goes on to discuss the ties between language and identity. In this age of globalization, I am fascinated with the way countries either accept or reject global perspectives and to a degree, identity. What they accept, why they reject other things, and how it encourages some countries to revisit their cultural heritage in new ways. Consequently, how does that affect one's identity in countries around the world, speaking English as a Lingua Franca?

Globalization encourages self-assertion to a degree we've never seen before. I think this crosses all frontiers and cultures. And it's not about "becoming American." It's about "lifestyle emancipation," as Maher puts it.

Even if I was tied to my biological roots/land, would I still seek a "lifestyle emancipation" from my culture? I wonder.

New Tagline

Here it is: "You're ah-ha moment is my reality."


Seriously. I should make t-shirts.

Namdaemun

Sad. A 600-year old wooden structure gone just like that... Unbelievable.

Am copying the words of my friend Graham, as he expressed how it would have gone down if it had taken place in Japan: "Amazing that they didn't have some sort of super fire-fighting system thing in place. I can imagine the Japanese having some sort of super-duper apparatus that would flood the whole thing in 10 seconds flat at the first hint of fire. Or would have secretly rebuilt it without using anything flammable, yet having it still resemble 600 year old wood. Actually, if it were in Japan, it probably would have burnt down hundreds of years ago, and have been rebuilt post-war in ferro-concrete...." We both agreed that if this happened in Japan, that the one held responsible would definitely commit suicide in disgrace. I took it a bit further saying that he'd do it old school--sword to the gut.

Koreans felt that it was like watching a good friend go down in flames. For me, it felt like a distant relative that I never met but got to know through photo albums and stories of other relatives.

Democrats

Believe it or not, I'm still undecided. Hillary or Barack?

My not so secret wish is that Barack Obama wins by a wide margin and chooses Al Gore as his Vice-President running mate. So what if Barack is a cousin of Dick Cheney. So what if Al Gore has the worst reputation amongst his secret service guards? I don't care. We clearly cannot have four more years of another Republican.

Where do you measure up? I'll tell you my results if you tell me yours...
http://www.vajoe.com/candidate_calculator.html

Rain

It's completely blustery here in the San Francisco Bay Area. I love it. Surely it is the Pacific Northwest that lives in me. I love that sharp and crisp cold. I love razor edged mountains lined with snow. I love wearing scarves and floppy warm hats. Having said that, I've been in California long enough to appreciate breaks of sun in the winter. Grey skies will always be comforting.

Sometimes I wish I could look out at this sort of scene (see photo)--and spend my days sipping green tea, reading, writing, napping, warming my legs under a kotatsu...feeling peaceful. I miss that part of my life in Japan. The simplicity and the dreaminess. The friendships that kept my heart warm through the 3-meter snow winters. I was happy to visit those good friends earlier this month. This photo was taken from our room at the Mukaitaki in Aizu-Wakamatsu. What I would give for an hour in the spa baths about right now, just before going to bed.

Sometimes I wish I could spend my days as a lifeguard at Onekahakaha Beach in Hilo, Hawai'i. Responsible for very little. The big thing of my day would be to remember sunscreen and figure out what kind of bento I would eat for lunch. There is no doubt that Cappy and I will be retiring there. She will be writing the novel of her dreams. I will be blogging and cooking for our family. We'd sit on our veranda eating freshly picked lychee. We'll have picnics on Coconut Island with our friends and families. I am looking forward to those days. They are still quite far away.

Presently, my life has become robust as I'm settling into the rhythm of 2008. Cappy and I have joined a triathlon training team with the incredible ladies at See Jane Run. Spring semester has brought cheer back into my life. I'm finally seeing tracks on the road. In other words, my dissertation is taking shape--in my mind at least. In other news, one of my favorite couples has just become engaged. They're in Tokyo now, but soon off to Sydney and Sweden. My best childhood friend is recovering from chemotherapy. And lastly, a good friend and I have hatched a plan to create the community that we seek.

I will certainly return to my normal snarkiness tomorrow, but for now I feel thankful and light...

Spring Semester

Catch up:

I'm back in the world of quantitative vs. qualitative research, dreaming of international education conferences, $100 textbooks, study breaks, and classmates... I find school to be the perfect antidote to my annoyances with work. I find the excitement of this past week's departmental meeting to be as fun as a night out in a club. My desire for late night or mid-afternoon clubbing has been temporarily quelled. Although, my association with clubs has been tarnished forever (in a good way, really) In any case, I was honestly quite happy at school this past weekend.

I've recently re-connected with some great friends this past month, both here in the States and abroad. The fact that we've not seen each other for over ten years, or have become too busy in the last few years to hang out reminds me of what I cherish the most--those with whom I share significant context. Those kindred spirits and their incredibly open, intelligent, and generous minds and spirits....

I'm hanging on to these last few days of January. I have a good feeling about 2008. For me. And you.

Poetry for the Day:

High is our calling, Friend!--Creative Art
(Whether the instrument ofwords she use, Or pencil pregnant with ethereal hues,)
Demands the serviceof a mind and heart.

-William Wordsworth (1770-1850)

Nishi-Aizu

Here is a lovely and familiar view of Nishi-Aizu, Japan--the town where I lived from 1993-1995. This was taken from the local Banetsu line that trundles all the way to Niigata. I had forgotten how gorgeous it is up in the north.

I spent so many hours gazing out at this landscape. Through four seasons, through trips back and forth to Tokyo--always with a box of Salad Pretz and a can of green tea. I was either happy to be leaving to a place of anonymity or relieved to be coming back where everyone knew me. Or rushing back thinking I had left my iron on atop my 6 tatami floor. Though rushing is a bit of a stretch, considering there were times that I thought I could run faster than the local train.

This return to Nishi-Aizu was very special since with Cappy by my side. We arrived at the Nozawa stop at 11.45 in the morning. We stepped out onto the familiar station platform and lugged our suitcases up the stairs and across to the other side. I had worried about what we'd do with these heavy monstrosities while walked about the town. Thankfully, the station attendant agreed to store our suitcases and backpack. It was a huge relief.

On this day, the skies were their usual grey, melted snow ran along the side gutters, and the familiar chilly air stung my ears. We walked through the narrow streets. I pointed out the cow that lived down the street from me, my old homestay house, my apartment, the space where I parked my scooter, and my friend Chieko's AC Club. It was the only bar in town with Guinness on draught and real Italian spaghetti. No big deal, except it was one of 3 or 4 restaurants that I went to on a regular basis. Does 7-11 count as a restaurant, though?

The highlight of the day was visiting the nursing home where I used to volunteer. After ten years, I wasn't sure any of the residents that I helped would still be there. Thankfully, I met one of them. When we entered the main dining room, I saw a woman sitting in a wheelchair just in front of the door. "Oh my god, Aiko Suzuki?!" I was amazed-- and the nurse was surprised that I remembered her name. Suzuki-san is now 96 and still had the same caring eyes and bright smile. When asked if she remembered me, she smiled and nodded her head. I used to wheel her out from her room to the dining room. She'd utter questions and tell me stories....I'd just look at her and shake my head--totally not getting what she was saying. She'd just laugh and keep on talking to me.

We made it back to the station in time for the 3.23 train. I knew that the sentiment of this day would be realised and cherished at a later time, but felt the beginning of it as Cappy and I waited on the platform. When asked how I felt about returning, all I could think about was how small it seemed. The town seemed as if I had been looking at it from a bird's eye view. I clearly remember not really being able to see beyond the pine tree borders and mini-mountains back in '93-'95. I guess that is a thing of age and subsequent life experience.

Being in Nishi-Aizu was certainly a nice break from the concrete mega watt land of Tokyo. Although I was deeply satisfied for having re-connected with a few people, I was equally thrilled to be departing. Back when I was 23, I was open to anything. You'll have to do a homestay for one month. OK. Live here. Sure. Work here. Sure. Shop here. OK. Eat lunch in this room today. Sure. Teach a class every Monday night here. OK.

Within minutes of heading down the tracks, my town was already fading away once more. This time, as the train pulled out of Nozawa station, I felt an amazing sense of freedom.

Bump of Chicken

Are you kidding me? Bump of Chicken is a rock band that has set out to "change the history of rock and roll." Who knew that such a monumental transformation may come from a band of thin Japanese dudes from Chiba?

So why Bump of Chicken? Is it an extension of their rebellion to deliberately mashup the English language? I mean, who really owns English anyway? Not the native speakers, I can guarantee you.

What kills me is that the misuse of English is intended--that their self-love surpasses the desire for a familiar and appropriate use of English.

This band name is perplexing to me as Ruth's Chris Steakhouse. Ruth's what?! Who is Chris, does he/she belong to Ruth? Jesus Christ.

Tokyo

The rumors are true...

Penny and Cappy are braving the skies bound for Tokyo, Japan. This trip marks Cappy's first time in the Land of the Rising Sun. I've not been back in ten years. In 1997, I was climbing the steep hills of Itaewon much too often and eating chili and rice at Korean Wendy's--longing for Hawai'i. In late April of '97, I was able to pop over to Saitama for a women's weekend, as well as a quick trip up to my old junior high school in Nishi-Aizu, Japan.

We leave tomorrow and arrive on the afternoon of New Year's eve.

I know I'm not as young and limber as I was in 1993, but we'll try to push through the pain of the whirlwind week and a half that I've planned.

No matter what--the jetlag and sleep deprivation, density, lights, and cigarette smoke will all be worth it once we're dipping our toes into the hotspring waters at Mukaitaki...

Globalization

Globalization is often misappropriated. Too many people equate globalization with internationalism, or worse, multiculturalism.

My two thoughts on globalization for today:

1. The 58,000 gallon oil spill in the San Francisco Bay Area is just one more collision between the environment and the unfettered capitalism of a global economy. They say that the oil will never be cleaned up.

2. Globalization is the ability for an isolated individual in his mid-20's to acquire the financial power of a state, if not country. Yes, I'm speaking of the 50+ billion dollar mind of Facebook. A young American white man in his mid 20's.

Who knew that social networking would be the new General Motors? Perhaps we can all start discussing how we'll deal with the ineviable environmental migration. We brag about our generators, SUV hybrids, and bottled water as we prepare for the mass migration to Alaska or Iceland. Both of which should be near tropical in 20 years...

Catch Up

Hello my dwindling readership,

I've cut over to MySpace, Yelp, and LinkedIn....and have thusly reneged on my regular blog duties.

Headlines:

-Cappy and I are heading to the concrete metropolis of Tokyo, Japan after the New Year. Our New Year plans are non-existent. Hopefully there will be some savory vending machine options. We land at 4pm on Dec.31. Our plans include a quick download of Tokyo offerings, a trip to Fukushima prefecture and possibly a venture southward to Hiroshima. Must get going on the planning side of things...

-Am back in the world of libraries, reading lists, and long hours in the classroom. I am thoroughly enjoying school, my classmates, and everything I'm reading. It is true that as you get older, you certainly have a smaller window of time for maximum brain effectiveness. I am currently negotiating this theory while balancing full-time work. So far, I do not have a headache every day as I did the first week of class...

-Am training for a mini-triathlon. My brother and Cappy tell me that 400 yards for the swimming portion equals about 16 laps in the pool. Thankfully I've been pushing it for 20 laps (where one lap is up/back the 25 yard width of the pool). The triathlon sprint is not until Spring 2008, but am trying to get my cardio sorted out way before then.

-My brother and his family have adopted a 4 year old Dalmatian called "Lady." Apparently, she loves the kids, loves sleeping, and seems very happy to have been rescued from her former life. She was a breeder of tiny black and white fur balls. Now, she seems content with wearing beads and various accessories applied by her new 9-year-old sister.

I must go but before I do, I will leave you w/some links:


Keeping One's Word in the 20th Century:
http://www.threecupsoftea.com/

It's horrific yet true:
http://www.iabolish.org/


Yours truly,
Penny

San Diego

This restores my faith in the presence of humanity in politicians--those with the courage to stand behind their beliefs:

http://cbs5.com/video/?id=26888@kpix.dayport.com

Quite moving, refreshing, and restorative.

Back to School

So I'm an official student. The honeymoon of the orientation and first class has worn off. I'm now a doctoral student at the University of San Francisco.

I love it so far, but I've had a headache for 3 days straight! What is happening!?! Cappy tells me that it's normal--I'm clearly not used to academic reading and thinking.

A comparison:
My mind is like a soccer player who hasn't been on the pitch for ages but has kept up jogging for fitness. Turning years of on/off jogging into strenuous fits and starts for professional soccer is proving to be a situation. But not one that I can't overcome.

It's the making money part that gets in the way, really.

In my Master's program, I was working part-time. I had entire days that I could spend at the library and 3 hour evening classes as opposed to four hour Saturdays twice a month.

Nevertheless, I feel alive.

Gombei

Have been seriously craving good Japanese food for a while now. For those of you who know me well, you know I go through particular food cravings.

Sometimes it's a streak of peanut butter and jelly sandwich dinners. Or more recently, Rice Crispies cereal with sliced banana.

Lately, it has been Japanese food. And I'm not talking sushi, but regular teishoku. A well balanced tray of starch, soups, a side dish, and a main dish that my grandma used to make.

Living in Oakland, you've got your choice from various Korean or Chinese "sushi" restaurants. Not a hater, but TNT rolls with extra Korean spicy tuna in the middle and baked salmon on top is NOT sushi. And the local Cantonese speaking guys rocking the hachimakis are definitely spirited and slap together a "Shrek" roll with the best of them, but... I always leave feeling filled, but not full.

OK, but I can deal. I know i'm not in the middle of Ginza. However, i recently had an experience that drove me to near disapparation to the middle of the Tokyo metropolis.

The happening went down like this:

So it's a weeknight and Cappy and I are in a huff about nothing. Read: extreme hunger. We pull up to a local "sushi" place, knowing full well it's farm team sushi and nothing like the real deal.

Firstly, this place is filled with various Asian ethnicities, Latin, African-American, Caucasian, you name it. Don't strain your eyes looking for Japanese people because they are not here and would seriously catch hell if they ever did end up here....

We ordered the Lambada Roll. I know, I know, I know... What was the essense of the Lambada you ask? Spicy tuna and salmon slathered with avocado and tobiko. It was filling, yet unappealing. Kind of like how people can be totally attractive yet revolting at the same time? Like that. Delicious yet wrong.

But this was the worst part. I ordered tendon. As you know, tendon is supposed to be tempura sitting atop a bowl of rice, with that lovely tendon sauce drizzled over the top. What arrived at my table certainly resembled tendon. But there was no sauce!? No big. Just need to ask for the tendon sauce and all will be well.

I managed lure a Korean server over to our table. I probably had the look of one who had accidently rubbed wasabi in my eyes. She comes over and I say, "I think they forgot to put the tendon sauce here." She then gives me a puzzled look, as if to say, "Are you really wearing gym clothes in my dining room?" She got the question however, and shuffled away with the same puzzled expression.

At this point, I'm thinking I'm not going to get any sauce at all. It's not going to happen. Or, she'll come back with apologies saying that it's been a busy night and she rushed out the dish. No problem, I'd say. I'm not about to cause any trouble, you see.

I look up 3 minutes later and she's walking my way holding a small bowl. I'm all happy because i'm thinking "self-drizzle!" But as she set the small bowl down, i realise, it's tempura sauce!?!?

I spent the rest of the dinner miserably dipping my super sized tempura veggies into a bowl of tempura sauce that had been seriously ladled with ginger. Case in point: the carrot piece resembled those gigantic pink erasers we used in elementary school. Remember those? They had the toughness of a bar of soap and made mincemeat of that news sheet paper we used for penmanship practice....

Again, not a hater but this experienced just ramped up my authentic Japanese food craving tenfold.

Yesterday with a lot of happiness and high expectations, Cappy and I were able to make our quarterly pilgrimage to our favorite Japanese restaurant in San Jose. Gombei is a life saver. It is my years in Tohoku and years of my grandmother's cooking all in one little cafe.

I had some perfectly grilled hamachi teriyaki, Sendai style miso soup, pumpkin croquettes, tsukemono, rice and salad. Cappy was without words for her stuffed aburage, sashimi, miso soup, salad, and rice.

The flavors, the small dishes, the shoyu/mirin taste, the perfectly fluffy yet sticky rice...

All was well in my world.

Bliss

Feast your eyes on chicken laulau, fried rice, and tsukemono from Kuhio Grille in Hawai'i. Yum! I wish I had taken more pictures like this of various meals from all of my favorite restaurants. Clearly, I was too involved with the eating process to get the camera out.

Highlights:

Late nights with my mom indulging her Korean drama craze. This time it was "My Lovely Sam-Soon." I realised it is not just my mom. All of her friends are totally hooked on Korean dramas--viewed at high volume and sometimes consecutively until early morning. Swimming with the kids at Onekahakaha Beach, Itsu's ice shave, Coconut Island, karaoke and Hawaiian puupuus (appetizers) Hilo style at Bamboo Garden, catching up with relatives and old friends, fireworks, a day at the Hilton Waikoloa, Tex's Malasadas, etc.

Will probably write more about this trip in the week to come.

What wonders a week under the Hilo sunshine has done....

Hilo

To the right you can catch a 1964 glimpse of Hapuna Beach on the Big Island of Hawai'i. Not much has changed, however--unless you count the ginormous Hapuna Prince Hotel that now resides up the hill from the beach. Hapuna is one of the few white sand beaches on the island. And that is not necessarily a bad thing. Let the tourists flock to Maui and Waikiki, I say...


Good news: We'll be driving up to the "Poke Truck" in Hawai'i in less than 24 hours! This will be our fourth trip to Hilo together. That means in the five years Cappy and I have been together, we've gone "home" once a year. We missed Hawai'i in 2006, but I'm sure we'll make up for lost time.


Thankfully, we can now fly directly from Oakland to Hilo without catching Honolulu airport's Wiki Wiki to the inter-island terminal. That means we leave here around 4pm and arrive in Hilo close to 7pm. Brilliant.

Although i've been looking forward to the trip, it will be the first time since I was an infant that I've not stayed in my grandparent's house. It's now on the market and my parents have new digs. I know it's ultimately just a structure of wood and stone, but I have a bittersweet feeling about it all. It's extremely hard for me to imagine anyone else peering out to Hilo bay from my grandparent's deck, or seeing other cars parked in the driveway. My parents' new place is up the street. I've already promised myself that I'll close my eyes as we pass by the old house. Not meaning to be melodramatic, but it's the only structure in this world where I feel entirely safe.

Am looking forward to:

-Spending time with the niece and nephew.
They're currently enrolled in Level 3 basic swimming classes at the YWCA. Read: transitioning from dog paddle to the basic crawl. Hopefully my nephew won't have too many "time outs" this year.

-The aforementioned "Poke Truck."
Apparently a local guy prepares a few different kinds of poke, loads up his truck, and parks next to the KTA supermarket. My dad (a poke expert) claims that the Poke Truck's garlic ahi tuna poke is to die for.

-Sharing my slide to dvd (and jpeg) project.
As you know, (from what I've said and written) I've spent TONS of hours on this project. I really look forward to sharing it with my parents. You probably know this if you've been talking to me recently but I've had 2800 slides scanned and converted to jpeg. Then I chose 500 select images, compiled a soundtrack, and had a DVD made. My mom claims that she may not make it through the entire DVD. I know what she means. I cried a lot putting this project together. I'm at the point now where I've seen the images so many times, that I can watch it as if I'm watching an episode of Top Chef.

-Swimming at Onekahakaha Beach with the kids.
In the slides, particulary from 1971-1974, there are a lot of images of my brother and I being held up in the water by our parents and grandparents. Now things have evolved---now we're the ones swimming with the kids, sitting on the very same steps, standing under the same brackish water shower...

-Seeing my childhood friend Teri and her new baby, Ryder
With Teri and her friends I: bought my first bottle of vodka at 17, had my first taste of Hawaiian pakalolo, drove without a license behind the sugar cane fields near Hilo Hospital, and attended YWCA's Summer Fun Camp. The memories.

I can go on here but the dog needs to be walked, things need to be packed, etc.

Aloha.