Back to Japan: A Retrospective (^_<)

From soba to sushi, from Gifu to Osaka,it was a month well spent!

A Purikura Addict's Oddessy

Super-cute, soft-serve poop: A puri staple and Japanese pop culture icon.


Junior high kids love to ask about their ALT's love life. The thumbs up means boyfriend, pinky up means girlfriend.

All the way from Osaka, world famous Ashitsubo Sensei and rugby extrodinaire (not to mention actual nihonjin)!


Star of my first puri and my absolute best Japanese friend ever- Yuko-chan! How far we've come! (^_<)
I ♥ Osaka!


Extra points if anyone can catch the "Fo Sho" allusion.

Our last puri- for now, anyways!

Happy Thanksgiving! 感謝祭おめでとう

"I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and new..."

Did you know the pilgrims made seven times more graves than huts, and still decided to set aside a day of thanksgiving for all of their blessings? What a humbling thought. We all have things to be thankful for, even if we forget it from time to time. Sometimes even the things we are quite the opposite of thankful for turn out to be blessings in the end, and that is a comforting thought (^_<)

This is my first Thanksgiving stateside in the past three years, but all of my Kansha-sai (Japanese for Thanksgiving) were spent in the company of good friends and delicious food. Last year we celebrated at Ena's famous Chez Howell over a dinner of lentils, Thai curry and guacamole. The previous Dia de Gracias was spent marveling at Kyoto's famous fall foilage and savoring spicy Indian cuisine in Gion. And who could forget the time we snuggled beneath a warm kotatsu, huddled around a steaming pot of kimchee nabe!

Yet even as I prepared to repatriate myself this past August, I found myself looking forward to the deliciousness that is good old pumpkin pie. Despite a series of unfortunate events that transpired to keep me from eating said pumpkin pie, or even having a traditional Thanksgiving dinner in my own home, it turned out to be the absolute best Thanksgiving in (my) recent history. No fighting. No stress. No obscure sea creatures sneaking into the hot pot. Just family, food and fun. Niiiiiiice.

Here's to hoping all of you had a happy Thanksgiving as well. What are you most thankful for this year? Kind of hard to say once you start thinking about it, isin't it? There's just too much to be thankful for!

Halloween: Puri Style

As Cultural Ambassadors, Abbey and I felt it our duty- nay, our privilege- to spread what little Halloween cheer we might by sporting festive 100 yen headbands, not only for our holiday puri session, but to sushi as well, spreading "knowledge and awareness" to all.

As they say in Japan, Happy Haroween! (^_<)/

I Went to Tokyo...

And all I have to show for it are these silly pictures (^-^)/Ye Old Coot and I jumpin' around at Sensoji (Temple) in Asakusa.

Holy backpack, Batman! The Old Coot, The World or Bust and Mboogiedown go to Tokyo!


West Side represent! Chillin' with our homie the Emperor at the Imperial Palace.

Aaaand...
Which promptly inspired this puri classic...

JUMP!

Somewhere in Nagano...

Am I prancing?

No. I`m jumping for joy, slightly over-excited about stumbling upon these snow-covered, terraced rice fields, the perfect excuse to take a break from the narrow, winding road we called "The Intestines".


Rockin` the macket (macket = man jacket) with my broken wrists. Yes it is a man`s jacket, and yes we did actually see a man wearing the same one on our trip to Matsumoto. No, I am not a man.

Nijia style! Hi-ya!

Abbey prepares for lift off...

My Cambodian Family : Battambang

Ratha's father, Papa Kim, and I.

Remember Ratha? We've kept in touch since August, and when I told him I was coming back to visit, he was kind enough to invite me to meet his family and stay at his home.

Ratha and his father outside their home.

Like father like son!

My new sister, Srey Mom, and I chatting away over something delicious.

Concentrate! I`m showing off my ability to count in Khmer.

Now we`re laughing at my inability to do anything else in Khmer. Thank God laughter is universal!

Last Day: Battambang

August 28, 2006: My last lunch with the monks.

Sammuth and Cham Reourn helping to prepare the meal. They look so kind and gentle, right?

Wrong!
Sammuth and I.

Post-feast siesta time!

Ratha in his hammock.

Yeay (grandmother) Ping.

Yeay Vouy.
The girls and I. I know they don't look thrilled, but they actually asked to take a picture together so that I wouldn't forget them.

As if I could!

A Walk in the Rice Fields:Battambang

Battambang, Day 3, August 2006: Before our ride on the Bamboo Express, Ratha, Kosul and I took a long walk through "A Thousand Rice Fields".

The Bamboo Express: Battambang

August 2006, Battambang Day 3: Kosul, Ratha, and my fellow passengers on Battambang`s Bamboo train.

Known affectionately as the norry to the Khmers, the "Bamboo Train" is the result of Khmer ingenuity in the face of necessity. It is 100% pure Cambodian, and one of the coolest rides that I have ever been on.

With nothing more than a rickety wooden frame, thin bamboo planking bending beneath the weight of its buren, a four-stroke, upright engine and, appropriately enough, reused military tank wheels and axles, Bamboo Trains haul passengers and cargo between the rice bowl (Battambang) and the capitol (Phnom Penh).

A young conductor pulling into the "station".

As you might imagine, Bamboo Trains are quite illegal, wreaking havoc whenever they cross roadways. The 'real' train only comes along once a day, making it sluggish way up to Battambang or back to Phnom Penh at a pace that makes it possible to hop on and off at any time. In the meantime, the old, neglected track is practically begging to be used.

Ratha and Kosul enjoy the ride.

And used they are, with an unknown number of these Cambodian contraptions rumbling up and down the bumpy, disjointed track. There is, ofcourse, only one track, which begs the question: What happens when another Bamboo Train comes chucking along?

Another bamboo train　chucking along in our general direction.

With a real train, this would pose a problem, but with the bamboo train its a bowl of amok (weak attempt to Cambodianize the western 'piece of cake' expression). Bamboo Trains can be disassembled and disappear into the bushy Cambodian countryside in the blink of an eye. Off comes the frame, followed by the Honda moto engine, axles and wheels. Proper Bamboo Train etiquette states that the norry with the least amount of passengers must give way to the one carrying more, with the conductor of the latter helping the former to disassemble and remove it from the tracks.

Having disembled our train so that the other might pass, I note that we are being watched. A spy for the anti-norry authorities, perhaps?

To be finished in between classes...

Tuk-Tuk Tour: Battambang

August 2006: Our friendly countryside tour guides, at the pre-Angkorian ruins of Phnom Ek. Sammuth, Ratha and Cham Reourn: The Monkey Crew (or part of it), as they refer to themselves.

Ratha and Sammuth share a laugh about my fortune, which they translated for me: "Soon I will find the love of my life and be married within two years." This after the first one warned me to be careful about traveling. Have I mentioned the moto-burn/toothpaste incident?

Sammuth smiling about my good fortunes in the colorful interior of Mount Sampoa's pagoda.

While climbing up to one of the mountain top temples near Battambang, Chamreourn noticed a Jasmine (frangipangi) flower lying on the ground and bent down to pick it up. He sat down, spinning it in his hand, smelling its sweet fragrance and thinking.

Chamreurn taking a well-deserved rest in a hammock.