<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246</id><updated>2012-03-17T06:00:07.391-05:00</updated><category term='summer'/><category term='detroit'/><title type='text'>When in Japan....</title><subtitle type='html'>What happens when a uber-foodie high school cooking teacher is awarded a Japan Memorial Fulbright?

What's the Japanese word for "YUM?"</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>21</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-5905659495516985234</id><published>2007-07-12T10:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-12T11:12:57.567-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='detroit'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer'/><title type='text'>From a Distance....</title><content type='html'>&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086343742463685506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="167" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpZSr2cUM4I/AAAAAAAAAV0/sTSs7-gSuaU/s320/IMG_1794.JPG" width="252" border="0" /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpZSxGcUM5I/AAAAAAAAAV8/wHD1POZqAn8/s1600-h/IMG_1802.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086343832657998738" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="178" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpZSxGcUM5I/AAAAAAAAAV8/wHD1POZqAn8/s320/IMG_1802.JPG" width="256" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Al and I played border crossers yesterday, and heading into scenic Windsor, Ontario to spend our incredible shrinking American Dollar (Old Currency-1.50 Canadian Dollar to every American Dollar; New Currency- 1.05 Canadian to every American Dollar). Like all good border towns, there's the good side and the bad side. Good side: Detroit, from across the river,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpZP-mcUM1I/AAAAAAAAAVc/6ldSKmSRPjM/s1600-h/h_4_ill_676197_usa-mexico-border-31.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5086340766051349330" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 236px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 136px" height="152" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpZP-mcUM1I/AAAAAAAAAVc/6ldSKmSRPjM/s320/h_4_ill_676197_usa-mexico-border-31.jpg" width="269" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt; looks like a shining beacon of all things light and good (See Photo 1). Bad side: Once into Detroit proper and out of the central district, you wish it was more "Canadian" (See photo 2), as decay, vacant lots, and mid-day hookers on Woodward Ave. make you think about 3rd world-isms and how rust belt border cities like Detroit make you think that we're the Jaurez in this El Paso/Jaurez border town. Lest you think I'm not pro-Detroit, as all Native residence of the Metro-Detroit-Area (MDA for those in the know) are, I still see hope amongst the ruins. And, like my mom, my pop, and every native Detroiter I know, I too say, "Detroit's really coming around!" and mean it. Distance has a way of making everything possible.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-5905659495516985234?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/5905659495516985234/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=5905659495516985234' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/5905659495516985234'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/5905659495516985234'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/07/from-distance.html' title='From a Distance....'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpZSr2cUM4I/AAAAAAAAAV0/sTSs7-gSuaU/s72-c/IMG_1794.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-7581394967084843832</id><published>2007-07-10T14:37:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T23:07:02.293-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sister City to Sister City, in search of a road more easily travelled</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Still in Detroit, I've extended my family time by a couple of days. Had a terrific 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July Celebration with the Macro-Family and have visited the beach in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cananda&lt;/span&gt; (eh!) with nuclear &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;folkies&lt;/span&gt; and Nephew Alexander, new love of &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpPiE4WBLMI/AAAAAAAAAUM/N5e6o2mbcb0/s1600-h/croppedfamily.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085656977703513282" style="margin: 0px 0px 10px 10px; float: right; width: 192px; height: 182px;" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpPiE4WBLMI/AAAAAAAAAUM/N5e6o2mbcb0/s320/croppedfamily.jpg" border="0" height="216" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;my life. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Whillst&lt;/span&gt; postponing my return to scenic New Jersey (Al and I look at our forthcoming 11 hour drive back to NJ with a healthy amount of inertia), I met up with fellow &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Fulbrighter&lt;/span&gt; (nee, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;JFMF'er&lt;/span&gt;) , Maureen, in the City that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Hikone&lt;/span&gt; Dreams, Ann Arbor. After eating dinner, Mo and I, chaperoned by the intrepid Al, visited &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Hikone&lt;/span&gt; street (pronounced HI-Cone) in a no-so-scenic area of Ann Arbor. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, it was beyond not-so-scenic, as it was a dead-end street of a public housing project (as in ghetto). In all fairness to Ann Arbor, it was mighty swell of them to name a street after their amorous sister, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Hikone&lt;/span&gt;, but &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;sheeze&lt;/span&gt;, man, if the town leaders of Ann Arbor only knew how much &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hikone&lt;/span&gt; extolled the virtues and scenic beauty of its sister in Michigan,  they might have located it in a more scenic, less sketchy area of GO &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;BLUE's&lt;/span&gt; home town.  Al and I will make the long  journey back to NJ on Friday, almost 5 days later and 10 lbs. heavier than expected.&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpPsAoWBLNI/AAAAAAAAAUU/M3tj4HZcCRs/s1600-h/hikoneannarobor.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085667899805347026" style="margin: 0px 10px 10px 0px; float: left;" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpPsAoWBLNI/AAAAAAAAAUU/M3tj4HZcCRs/s320/hikoneannarobor.JPG" border="0" height="234" width="179" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-7581394967084843832?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/7581394967084843832/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=7581394967084843832' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/7581394967084843832'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/7581394967084843832'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/07/sister-to-sister.html' title='Sister City to Sister City, in search of a road more easily travelled'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RpPiE4WBLMI/AAAAAAAAAUM/N5e6o2mbcb0/s72-c/croppedfamily.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-6350017380909686669</id><published>2007-07-03T07:54:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T10:56:06.814-05:00</updated><title type='text'>When in Detroit....</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovBK4WBLHI/AAAAAAAAATk/cLot0gVmwuw/s1600-h/IMG_1662.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083368997085326450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="194" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovBK4WBLHI/AAAAAAAAATk/cLot0gVmwuw/s320/IMG_1662.JPG" width="265" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; After leaving New Jersey before 4am on Sunday morning, Al and I made it to scenic Detroit by 1 in the afternoon.The 24 hour turn&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovAY4WBLDI/AAAAAAAAATE/p-pRo0v_ZJE/s1600-h/ribs.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083368138091867186" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="167" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovAY4WBLDI/AAAAAAAAATE/p-pRo0v_ZJE/s320/ribs.jpg" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; around has got my head turning around and made me subject to waves of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;uncharacteristic&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;fatigue.&lt;/span&gt; Once we entered the front door of mom and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;pop's&lt;/span&gt;, we were greeted by mom and pop who &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;bore&lt;/span&gt; OODLES of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;cousa&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (small zucchini-like squash filled with rice and meat and cooked in a tomato sauce), summer fruit (apricots, plums, nectarines), and promises of grilled meat (fish free and loving it!!). Still jet-lagged and exhausted, I needed to break for a rest every 2 hours or so, to lounge in a mom-induced haze of laziness and gastric &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;fulfillment&lt;/span&gt; . Since Sunday, I've eaten excessive amounts of fruit, lamb chops, chicken &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;schwarma&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovAYoWBLBI/AAAAAAAAAS0/-Ek9sWIZ7WM/s1600-h/cousa.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083368133796899858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="216" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovAYoWBLBI/AAAAAAAAAS0/-Ek9sWIZ7WM/s320/cousa.jpg" width="171" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;(marinated spit-roasted chicken served in toasted pita with garlic sauce and pickle) , and Mom's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Kufta&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; (ground spiced meat, grilled on a stick served with yogurt and pita). I'm terrified of stepping on mom's new bathroom scale for fear that my "eat everything you see!" diet isn't working towards a svelter figure.The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;grande&lt;/span&gt; family will celebrate the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July-Lebanese-American Style which wouldn't be complete without my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;pop's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;babyback&lt;/span&gt; ribs, slow grilled for 1 3/4 hours, and mom's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;grapeleaves&lt;/span&gt; stuffed with ground round and rice and &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovAz4WBLEI/AAAAAAAAATM/7DFhQwHvzP4/s1600-h/pie.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083368601948335170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="135" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovAz4WBLEI/AAAAAAAAATM/7DFhQwHvzP4/s320/pie.jpg" width="166" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;cooked in salty/lemony concoction. Albino, mom, and I stuffed these yesterday after mom made an enormous blueberry pie and before the giant vat of American-style potato salad was made. We topped off our "Christmas in July" cooking fiesta by making Duncan &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;Heins&lt;/span&gt; cupcakes with processed frosting for Alexander, my 2 3/4 year old nephew. Mom was just as thrilled as I was to be making box cake mix and we decorated the cupcakes with feeling, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovA0YWBLGI/AAAAAAAAATc/bhWs9sK75JI/s1600-h/cupcake.jpg"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083368610538269794" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="148" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovA0YWBLGI/AAAAAAAAATc/bhWs9sK75JI/s320/cupcake.jpg" width="194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;vigor, and sprinkles. We were not &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;disappointed&lt;/span&gt; by Alexander's reaction who would have eaten the entirety of the cupcake tree for dinner, had he not been pursuaded otherwise.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5083369752999570578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="291" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovB24WBLJI/AAAAAAAAAT0/tByJCkZqisA/s400/table.jpg" width="226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-6350017380909686669?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/6350017380909686669/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=6350017380909686669' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/6350017380909686669'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/6350017380909686669'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/07/when-in-detroit.html' title='When in Detroit....'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RovBK4WBLHI/AAAAAAAAATk/cLot0gVmwuw/s72-c/IMG_1662.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-4913114026931249546</id><published>2007-06-29T01:52:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-29T08:30:25.036-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Still in flight flux</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;We left our Tokyo hotel in teams of 50 for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Narita&lt;/span&gt; airport yesterday (or is it today in Pacific standard time?). En route, we took a little detour to a Japanese rest stop, which aside from the Asian-style squat toilets, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;ramen&lt;/span&gt; stand, and convience store sushi, pretty much resembled any rest stop in America. The &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;flight&lt;/span&gt; wa&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081477703941565426" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoUJDIWBK_I/AAAAAAAAASk/YtVLsUOcCw8/s200/waiting.jpg" border="0" /&gt;s as uneventful as they come and, thankfully, though packed like a sardine in mustard sauce, I was able to sleep the majority of the way through. When we arrived in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;SanFran&lt;/span&gt;, we were herded through customs and agriculture then had to retrieve our bags. I'm of the opinion that they only had 1 baggage handler for the plane of 800, as baggage retrieval took more than an hour. I picked up my bag and proceeded to part 2 of the famous American travel gamegame of American called luggage &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;pickupanddropoff&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoUJDIWBLAI/AAAAAAAAASs/4uxLXFUJN4E/s1600-h/sanfran.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081477703941565442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoUJDIWBLAI/AAAAAAAAASs/4uxLXFUJN4E/s200/sanfran.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt; when I was told that all flights to New Jersey were cancelled. I proceeded to 3 different areas upon instruction from officials (?) in United coats and told, at our final place, that, in all likelihood, we might not get to Jersey before Saturday (it's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; today)...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;woweee&lt;/span&gt; and, had I not been as terrifically tired and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;mind numbed&lt;/span&gt; before the counter encounter, i might have thrown an airport &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;conniption&lt;/span&gt;. I was the first to get a flight out, and thou though this made me feel slightly Macheavellian of the Amazing race variety, I was able to secure a flight for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;tomorrow&lt;/span&gt;, Friday.My NJ counterparts were not so lucky as the other three had standbys all day friday....however, like the fate of those travellers on that terrific show, you never know till you get to your destination which plane will come in first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fortunately for me, my cousins live in San Fran. and, after sunbathing (nee, burning) at the outdoor pool and a short nap, my cousins Li&lt;span style="color:#ffff00;"&gt;la&lt;/span&gt; and Donna picked me up and took me to dinner at a German restaurant where we met up with Lila's friend Kim. We ordered massive amounts of food and, after judging that our table was in excess of our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;bodyweights&lt;/span&gt;, we were challenged by a neighboring diner to consume all we had ordered. Surprised slightly awed at our power- plate cleaning, our friendly neighbor bought us a giant boot of bier (as big as, well, a boot!!) and payed for our dinners. Only in America!! &lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoSwPYWBK-I/AAAAAAAAASc/iGAYYNo5hXg/s1600-h/IMG_1620.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5081380057860090850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 22px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 2px" height="207" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoSwPYWBK-I/AAAAAAAAASc/iGAYYNo5hXg/s200/IMG_1620.JPG" width="241" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-4913114026931249546?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/4913114026931249546/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=4913114026931249546' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/4913114026931249546'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/4913114026931249546'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/still-in-flight-flux.html' title='Still in flight flux'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoUJDIWBK_I/AAAAAAAAASk/YtVLsUOcCw8/s72-c/waiting.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-2109408664151032213</id><published>2007-06-27T16:28:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T16:48:12.313-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Pack-N-Go</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLaJoWBK9I/AAAAAAAAASU/dCxZlLVLFPo/s1600-h/darkalley.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080863188610788306" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLaJoWBK9I/AAAAAAAAASU/dCxZlLVLFPo/s200/darkalley.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was our last night together and although we're all excited to be able to read street signs, menus, and newspapers, we're all a little melancholy about our departures. Some things I'll miss:&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;the ubiquitous musak piped into daily existance;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;free samples galore&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;strange toilets with instructions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Food on sticks&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;exceptional customer service (particularily in comparison to the "screw you" attitude of New Jersey&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;the perpetual sing-song chatter of customer service people asking if I want help (??? who knows??)&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;some of the great people I've met on the trip and the diversity of our crew&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Paying for stuff using 1000 yen increments&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Budget sushi&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Some of the things I won't miss&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;my illiteracy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;seclusion from actual Japanese people&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;hotels&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;perpetual unpacking and repacking&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;hotel ballrooms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;budget sushi&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;hotels&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;Some final images&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZhYWBK5I/AAAAAAAAAR0/95VXOILGZKQ/s1600-h/tastey.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080862497121053586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZhYWBK5I/AAAAAAAAAR0/95VXOILGZKQ/s200/tastey.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZqoWBK7I/AAAAAAAAASE/IloVlef9eTc/s1600-h/michigangirrls.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080862656034843570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZqoWBK7I/AAAAAAAAASE/IloVlef9eTc/s200/michigangirrls.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZhIWBK4I/AAAAAAAAARs/AwQvLQ-LfPE/s1600-h/groupshot.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080862492826086274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZhIWBK4I/AAAAAAAAARs/AwQvLQ-LfPE/s200/groupshot.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZqoWBK6I/AAAAAAAAAR8/n_Pms-DaBvY/s1600-h/view.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080862656034843554" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZqoWBK6I/AAAAAAAAAR8/n_Pms-DaBvY/s200/view.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZhIWBK3I/AAAAAAAAARk/gKnYczenS4M/s1600-h/alley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080862492826086258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLZhIWBK3I/AAAAAAAAARk/gKnYczenS4M/s200/alley.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-2109408664151032213?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/2109408664151032213/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=2109408664151032213' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/2109408664151032213'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/2109408664151032213'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/pack-n-go.html' title='Pack-N-Go'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLaJoWBK9I/AAAAAAAAASU/dCxZlLVLFPo/s72-c/darkalley.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-7571585952230219422</id><published>2007-06-27T09:51:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T16:31:57.300-05:00</updated><title type='text'>SampleMania</title><content type='html'>I spent the last 2 days taking in as many food areas as I could as well as eating as many free samples as possible because, as I have discovered &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold"&gt;JAPAN IS FREE SAMPLE HEAVEN&lt;/span&gt;. Think Costco on steroids, then multiply it by 1,000 wooden toothpicks. As many of you know, my affection/affliction for free &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLV2oWBK1I/AAAAAAAAARU/PVbvRr19Sjk/s1600-h/IMG_0461.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080858464146762578" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 207px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 106px" height="211" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLV2oWBK1I/AAAAAAAAARU/PVbvRr19Sjk/s320/IMG_0461.JPG" width="281" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;samples goes way back to my dear papa-san who, if given the opprotunity to have lunch on a plate or a toothpick, might opt for the latter. So, in search of said samples, I went to the basements of 3 departments stores in the last 24 hours. A word on Japanese department stores: Most are at least 10 floors, many in Tokyo option for 15-20. Generally speaking, the basements of the department stores are the fancy, prepared food s, and grocery areas. By fancy, I mean you can pick up 2 cantalopes for $40 (and up!!!),&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLWKIWBK2I/AAAAAAAAARc/T6ppHsZvlM0/s1600-h/IMG_1533.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080858799154211682" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLWKIWBK2I/AAAAAAAAARc/T6ppHsZvlM0/s200/IMG_1533.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; French obsessed foods, and a crazy arra&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLVzoWBKxI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/iPJD7o4BDEg/s1600-h/roe.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080858412607154962" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 229px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px" height="198" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLVzoWBKxI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/iPJD7o4BDEg/s320/roe.JPG" width="290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;y of gelatenized food products, many of which have items suspended with in. These fancy foods carry the fancy prices that everyone talks about when they say Japan is uber-expensive. For the rest of us, there's the prepared food area where one can pick up a bento box, yaki-tori, dumpling, or just about anything else you can think of. After that, there's the groc&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLV0IWBKyI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/hIWvluc1W6M/s1600-h/rice.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080858421197089570" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="160" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLV0IWBKyI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/hIWvluc1W6M/s320/rice.JPG" width="241" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;ery store, rather upscale from what we expect, but, along with the prepared items, you can pretty much eat yer way through the area for less that 1 yen.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-7571585952230219422?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/7571585952230219422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=7571585952230219422' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/7571585952230219422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/7571585952230219422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/it-was-our-last-night-together-and.html' title='SampleMania'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoLV2oWBK1I/AAAAAAAAARU/PVbvRr19Sjk/s72-c/IMG_0461.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-1522198478496392771</id><published>2007-06-25T16:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-26T16:41:12.504-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Open up and say Ansen!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoD1QSzzUGI/AAAAAAAAAQE/QsB-c5BTktk/s1600-h/ansen.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080330039949742178" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoD1QSzzUGI/AAAAAAAAAQE/QsB-c5BTktk/s320/ansen.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoD0SizzUFI/AAAAAAAAAP8/kYnNDwVYOGM/s1600-h/tubatansen.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080328979092820050" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 178px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 217px" height="246" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoD0SizzUFI/AAAAAAAAAP8/kYnNDwVYOGM/s320/tubatansen.jpg" width="194" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; We left our respective hosts families and headed to the much awaited Ryokan, a traditional Japanese inn. Our Ryokan is also an “ansen,” or hot springs bath house. As we entered the building, situated on BEAUTIFUL Lake Biwa (think Loch Ness sans the monster) we were greeted with deep bows and instructions. Rule 1. Wear the Yukota (cotton kimono) at all times whilst in Ryokan (after 2 weeks of business attire, we were all ready to lounge around in bathrobes for a day Rule 2. no shoes or slippers, but you may wear toe-socks (photo to follow)&lt;br /&gt;Rule 3. relax! There’s that indistinct (and, seemingly anti-Japanese word again)but his place meant it.&lt;br /&gt;The Ryokan isn’t yer average hotel and 4 of us ladies shared a single room.   As we opened the door to our room and entered the living/sleeping room, the four of us could be heard unanimously uttering an overjoyed curse word under our breaths as the space was BREATHTAKING. Photos do the place no justice, as everything was “just right” about the place, from the central living room, to the view, to the toilet (it had a sink on top of it), to the outdoor tub. Immediately, we changed into our yukotas and began to plan how we’d spend the next 18 hours. &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoBX-izzUAI/AAAAAAAAAPU/McnUr8Atog0/s1600-h/loungingladies.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080157111681503234" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoBX-izzUAI/AAAAAAAAAPU/McnUr8Atog0/s320/loungingladies.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First stop: public bath.&lt;br /&gt;A word on public baths in Japan: As was the case with our ansen, baths are typically single sexed and very naked (in a Jerry Seinfeld kind of way)The first area is for disrobing, weighing yourself (not), and using the sink.&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoBX_yzzUCI/AAAAAAAAAPk/nAcoyWiryUA/s1600-h/interiorbath.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080157133156339746" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" height="240" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoBX_yzzUCI/AAAAAAAAAPk/nAcoyWiryUA/s320/interiorbath.jpg" width="160" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; You enter the bath room in yer birthday suit, an idea that puritanical Americans might find discomfitting.&lt;br /&gt;However, I'll be the first to agree that once everyone else is birthday’ed, the sensation is strangely exhilarating. Once in the bathroom, you must scrub yerself clean whilst sitting on a wooden stool before entererin the bath.  &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080157120271437842" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoBX_CzzUBI/AAAAAAAAAPc/MyHb1ODB0TU/s320/mobath.jpg" border="0" /&gt;After you’ve scrubbed, you may enter the bath. Our bathhouse had 3 tubs, one interior, one exterior (overlooking lake Biwa) and a cold plunge. We stayed until red and pickled then got ready for dinner&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner:&lt;br /&gt;Ever imagine what a 13 course Japanese dinner would look like? We filed in to the dining room with our hand-selected yukotas and were seated in front of edible art. You can check out the photo but it does the meal no justice. A train of delicacies were brought to our table, each one more interesting (and even I’ll admit it, weird) than the next. I became the official repository of all uneaten raw fish (give it to Lexie, she'll eat it) and believe that I’ve finally had my fill of raw fish. We drank sake and beer and then some more sake and beer afterwhich the karaoke machine was rolled out. There’s something about singing Engleburt Humperdinck in a Yukota that really makes a girl go wild. We left dinner then headed back to our rooms to prepare for another dip at the bath.  When we got back to our rooms, &lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoBY3izzUDI/AAAAAAAAAPs/zrC_IWeJazM/s1600-h/slumberparty.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080158090934046770" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; CURSOR: pointer" height="170" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoBY3izzUDI/AAAAAAAAAPs/zrC_IWeJazM/s320/slumberparty.jpg" width="238" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;we were pleasantly surprised to see that our living room had been made into a giant slumber party room during our meal.  To celebrate, we drank more sake.&lt;br /&gt;Morning:&lt;br /&gt;Feeling the not-so-nice affects of the night before, we reluctantly awoke to Emilie’s alarm clock (let that be a lesson in overinduldgance). We hobbled into the dining room for our morning meal and sat down to a 12 course fish breakfast. Though it was beautiful, sake + fish breakfast makes for some&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoBX9yzzT-I/AAAAAAAAAPE/xLyQsabTCVk/s1600-h/fishbreakfast.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080157098796601314" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 224px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 158px" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoBX9yzzT-I/AAAAAAAAAPE/xLyQsabTCVk/s320/fishbreakfast.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; weird indigestion. We left early that morning back to Tokyo, hectic Tokyo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoA60yzzT8I/AAAAAAAAAOw/AhniI8i1t0I/s1600-h/IMG_1443.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoA60yzzT8I/AAAAAAAAAOw/AhniI8i1t0I/s1600-h/IMG_1443.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-1522198478496392771?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/1522198478496392771/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=1522198478496392771' title='28 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/1522198478496392771'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/1522198478496392771'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/open-up-and-say-ansen.html' title='Open up and say Ansen!!'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RoD1QSzzUGI/AAAAAAAAAQE/QsB-c5BTktk/s72-c/ansen.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>28</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-929135729140806001</id><published>2007-06-25T06:18:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-25T09:06:18.336-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Hosts with the most(s)</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rn_LuyzzT3I/AAAAAAAAAOI/h8DtBN1TQb4/s1600-h/Atgarden.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5080002909470674802" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rn_LuyzzT3I/AAAAAAAAAOI/h8DtBN1TQb4/s400/Atgarden.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; The crew met up with our hosts families early Saturday morning. Mr. Takeuchi (Akira, nee Take-San) and his wife Chieko (also Take-san) greeted me at the city government office and took me to their home. I was surprised by the size of their house (large), the size of my room (really large), and the style of room I was given: traditional Tatami room with straw mats, rice paper panels, and a sunroom. I put down my things then the 3 of us left for the Takeuchi's farm, a 4-row garden in a community garden plat. There, we picked cucumbers, eggplant, shiso, negii (onion), and some kind of chive. We left the garden to go grocery shopping and the Mrs. picked up several things. Returning to the house, Take-san told me to go relax in my room (this is the FIRST TIME anyone has even mentioned the word on this trip; I was beginning to think relaxation a completely foregion concept.) I did as I was told and, whil&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rn-vwCzzTyI/AAAAAAAAANg/3Mq35a_zFOk/s1600-h/IMG_1234.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079972144619933474" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 194px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 167px" height="115" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rn-vwCzzTyI/AAAAAAAAANg/3Mq35a_zFOk/s320/IMG_1234.JPG" width="156" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;e reading, quickly fell asleep in the sun room. Take-san knocked on the door sometime later and told me lunch was ready...What a spread!! Mrs. Take-san had laid out sushi, salad, somen, and so much more. Their daughter Mei arrive and ate with us. The two of us left after lunch and took off to a festival at the local university. There, I got to pound mochi with the traditional motar and big hammer (i was terrified I would break the mochi flipper's hand). Afterwards, I got to make it into a mochi cake with red bean paste inside. The girls seemed really amused by my interest and I was glad to accept their amusement (and mochi goodness). Mei and I left to go shopping at "Value City", another one of Japan's ubiquitious department stores. Genius that I am, I picked up 10 pounds of Shiga rice (famous in Shiga) and have since had to schlep the stuff all over Hikone and Tokyo-Brilliant. We returned home, had another feast and I met with Saki, their other daughter who I mistakenly called Sake, as in rice wine &lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rn-vlSzzTwI/AAAAAAAAANQ/lm5EWzFqh7A/s1600-h/familyphoto.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079971959936339714" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="158" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rn-vlSzzTwI/AAAAAAAAANQ/lm5EWzFqh7A/s320/familyphoto.JPG" width="220" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;(Little did they know that my parents lifted off my own name off a bottle of wine some 34 years ago). Mr. Take-san and I &lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rn-voyzzTxI/AAAAAAAAANY/YhammG2mhAc/s1600-h/mochi.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079972020065881874" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" height="168" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rn-voyzzTxI/AAAAAAAAANY/YhammG2mhAc/s320/mochi.JPG" width="173" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;drank liberal amounts of Sake, then the whole family piled into a car (with Mei driving) to see the "Hotal" which the family was quite excited about though I kept thinking they were saying hotel. The Hotal, as I found out, are fireflies and VERY popular in Japan. VERY. They have festivals for it, sing songs about them, and genuinely get a real kick out of the buggers. By the time we got to the landofthefirefly, they were, as Take-san stated, sleeping, as there weren't that many to see. The best part of the evening was not the sighting of the flies, but the real joy the whole family got out of the event.&lt;br /&gt;I fell asleep in the car and thus avoided the whole "family bath thing" I was kinda dreading; here's the 411 on family bath: baths are typically in the evening and 1 bath is filled once for the whole family. First you scrub, then you soak, then this is repeated by the whole family. Sharing bathwater kinda skeevy's me out so I was not disappointed by the absence of this traditional pastime. I slept long and hard and woke up to another fantastic meal. Take-san, Mei, and Sake left to their respective appointments, then Chieko and I sat around and chatted, well kinda, as she didn't speak much English and my Japanese is non-existent. I showed her photographs of my family and the knifeskills video I had on my borrowed Mac. When Take-san came back, we made Okonomi yaki, my new favorite Japanese street food. I left later that afternoon for the Ansen, an experience you'll read about in the next entry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-929135729140806001?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/929135729140806001/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=929135729140806001' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/929135729140806001'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/929135729140806001'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/hosts-with-mosts.html' title='Hosts with the most(s)'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rn_LuyzzT3I/AAAAAAAAAOI/h8DtBN1TQb4/s72-c/Atgarden.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-2731832274223021216</id><published>2007-06-22T15:59:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T17:03:02.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Next Stop, the Takeushi's</title><content type='html'>After having spent 3 days observing an elementary, middle, and middle/high school, we're off to our host families. I was disappointed by our last observation of the high/junior school, as the high school students were in testing, and, for reasons that escape me, save for a 10 minute walk about, they didn't let us observe &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;jr&lt;/span&gt;. high classes. So basically, we spent a whole day in a room, talking to one another...As Maureen, fellow Michigander (and camper) observed, "It's like at camp when everyone finally gets sick of one another" -Exactly. Japanese surroundings or not, we were pretty tired of one &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;another's&lt;/span&gt; faces, and longing for some external stimulation by 4:00. Probably the best part of the day was seeing how many times we took our shoes on and off. The rooms we were situated in for hours were in another building and it was pouring rain. One of the rooms was a tatami room, which means shoes OR slippers allowed, so most of our day went like this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnxAuSzzTqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/RtWwmIKr8DU/s1600-h/IMG_0797.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079005643834347170" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="163" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnxAuSzzTqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/RtWwmIKr8DU/s320/IMG_0797.JPG" width="256" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;Enter building-remove shoes-put on slippers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Remove slippers (hope you wore socks or have a pedicure) enter tatami room&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Leave tatami room, put on slippers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Put on shoes, leave in pouring rain (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;BYO&lt;/span&gt; slippers), walk 50 yards, remove shoes, put on slippers&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnxApSzzTpI/AAAAAAAAAMY/sUZwj6zj3lc/s1600-h/toiletshoes.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079005557935001234" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 201px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" height="139" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnxApSzzTpI/AAAAAAAAAMY/sUZwj6zj3lc/s320/toiletshoes.JPG" width="226" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Go to gym, remove slippers&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Leave gym, put on slippers; leave building, put on shoes, carry slippers, change to slippers, then off again in tatami room&lt;/li&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;li&gt;Leave tatami room, put on slippers; walk to bathroom, take off slippers, put on toilet slippers; pee, leave toilet, change to slippers; back to tatami room and off with yer shoes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Ok&lt;/span&gt;, so it's a really poor representation of the shoe/slipper/no-slipper conundrum us Americans are trying to figure out. Though I would never have thought of integrating phys. ed into my follow-on plan, I've decided to create a "shoes-slippers-no slippers-bathroom slippers" obstacle course for my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;LifeSkills&lt;/span&gt; kids with little questions at each shoe exchange place. What a digression...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;Another observation: Gangsta' has hit &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Hikone&lt;/span&gt;. I was deeply saddened to see &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;teenaged&lt;/span&gt; boys with their pants way below their waists, so much so that I apologized to the principle of the Jr. high school for this (unsightly) trend. We might not import cars to Japan anymore, but boy, we've got prison pants to be proud of...GO AMERICA!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079007490670284466" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="289" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnxCZyzzTrI/AAAAAAAAAMo/sTwS-xCm1R0/s320/KIDS.jpg" width="165" border="0" /&gt; Last observation: As you all have read, i'm slightly obsessed with toilets here...it's hard not to be, as the Japanese are also REALLY obsessed with their toilets. Although many of Tokyo's toilets were "Western" (i.e. have a seat), all the school's we've gone to have traditiona (i.e. squat to pee) toilets. It's hard to get my head around the dichotomy of a place that has heated toilet seats with warm water spray, the sound of rushing water, and butt dryer (no, really, I couldn't make that up), and in the next stall, a hole (albeit, pretty and clean hole) in the floor. THANKFULLY, they've provided instructions &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;(not for the squat to pee, althoughugh many of us American Women might be glad for that) on how to &lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079011321781112530" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 139px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="98" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnxF4yzzTtI/AAAAAAAAAM4/cQCsgUyNVCM/s320/howtopee.JPG" width="200" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079011321781112514" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="127" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnxF4yzzTsI/AAAAAAAAAMw/i9c9_Z9thSE/s320/toiletinstructions.JPG" width="157" border="0" /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5079011321781112546" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="180" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnxF4yzzTuI/AAAAAAAAANA/ddcy1MJgLJE/s320/cosy.JPG" width="126" border="0" /&gt;operate the toilet and I LOVE THIS. Here are some images from the toilet in my hotel room. Also, the toilet paper cosy is from the hotel's downstairs bathroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I'm (almost) all packed up and ready to head to the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Takeushi's&lt;/span&gt;, my host family. I've always had issues with staying overnight at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;someone's&lt;/span&gt; house (I have a fear of overstaying my welcome). As communication issues will be inevitable, this exchange is really pushing my boundaries so I'm a little stressed out about it. After leaving the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Takeushi's&lt;/span&gt;, our gang will head off to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Ryokan&lt;/span&gt;, a traditional Japanese Inn where we'll stay for a night, bath in the place's hot springs and eat a traditional Inn's food, then leave on the following day back to Tokyo. I wish that I could say that I've SEEN &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Hikone&lt;/span&gt;, but save for our day trip to the castle/gardens, our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;schedule&lt;/span&gt; has been really sight-prohibitive, thus yesterday's experience of sitting in a room for hours with the likes of our ilk was really frustrating. I'm assuming this is the last of the Internet connections I'll have for the next 3 days, so don't worry mom, pop, and albino, I'm not dead, just in transit.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-2731832274223021216?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/2731832274223021216/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=2731832274223021216' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/2731832274223021216'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/2731832274223021216'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/next-stop-takeushis.html' title='Next Stop, the Takeushi&apos;s'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnxAuSzzTqI/AAAAAAAAAMg/RtWwmIKr8DU/s72-c/IMG_0797.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-4627371029737474982</id><published>2007-06-21T17:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-21T17:35:01.862-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Flickr Photos</title><content type='html'>I figured out how to link up my flickr account to this blog...From here, you can see A WHOLELOTTA photos...here's the address (also posted under relevant links)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/alexisgoebel/"&gt;http://www.flickr.com/photos/alexisgoebel/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-4627371029737474982?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/4627371029737474982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=4627371029737474982' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/4627371029737474982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/4627371029737474982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/flickr-photos.html' title='Flickr Photos'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-6622230463299870793</id><published>2007-06-20T16:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T17:40:09.125-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome ANNNN ABAHHHHH!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmryCzzTlI/AAAAAAAAAL4/E0Eeyw8RCqs/s1600-h/IMG_0732.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078278931072896594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="182" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmryCzzTlI/AAAAAAAAAL4/E0Eeyw8RCqs/s320/IMG_0732.JPG" width="191" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;We traveled to Hikone, Shiga, our prefecture city on Sunday via Kyoto bullet train. Although only in Kyoto a mere 3 ½ hours, I was able to sample some of its more famous foods including pickled EVERYTHING and yuba, the skin that forms when you cook soymilk. Here's an image:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Most interesting is Hikone’s relationship with Michigan, and in particular, Ann Arbor, or, colloquially, Annnn Abahhhhhh. For the first time, being from Michigan is WAYYY COOL and, as one of our group has found, being a resident of Annnabahh puts you in a special celebrity status in and of itself. Hikone’s mayor, whose name escapes, eyes literally lit up when Maureen stated she was from Annabahh. She (and I through my Michigan heritage) will be dining with Hiko, special assistant to the mayor, and a crew this evening. Yeah Michiganders!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, the group visited a K-6 elementary school and Buddhist altar factory. The school was out of this world and nothing like I imagined elementary school in Japan to be like. The kids, for one, were more than friendly, leading us like we were children through different activities throughout the day. They really tried to communicate with us, with some using picture dictionaries, others pantomiming their intentions.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Several other elements particular struck me and my fellow American teachers:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Open classrooms: The entire school was an open classroom, as each individual room had only 3 walls and was open to a giant central area. As you might expect, it was quite loud, as teachers had to speak over other teachers and children to be heard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The amount of freedom students had throughout the day: Students were able to roam freely, even during class time, needing no “pass” to use the restroom and such&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The amount of unsupervised time: As they have no breaks or preparation (prep) periods in the course of the school day, teachers leave their classrooms throughout the day, sometimes up to 15-20 minutes, to do whatever it is they need to do. The playground had no “monitors” and recess meant un-adulterated free-play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Student cleaning and responsibilities: After our lunch, which I’ll post images of later, students cleaned their class area top to bottom, sometimes using chopsticks to get into tight places, other times on their hands and knees wiping down the floor (I think NVD parents would sue me for “child labor” practices if I introduced this VERY awesome idea to my classes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hands-on activities: Almost everything I saw kids working on was a hands-on project. As another American teacher noted, we did not see one textbook.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rnmr8izzTmI/AAAAAAAAAMA/u_892qdqnnk/s1600-h/cleaningtiles_1016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078279111461523042" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rnmr8izzTmI/AAAAAAAAAMA/u_892qdqnnk/s320/cleaningtiles_1016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Home Economics and teacher instruction: Teachers teach EVERYTHING, from mathematics to music to cooking to ikebana to sewing. I witnessed a male teacher-led class sewing knapsacks. Pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kids serve lunch: Around 12:30, all these kids popped out with little chefs hats, gloves, and faces masks and serve lunch to their classmates. When finished, the little chefs are expected to take all dishes and supplies back to central kitchen.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmsByzzTnI/AAAAAAAAAMI/0O5zTcodTWc/s1600-h/IMG_1008.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078279201655836274" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 233px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 201px" height="152" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmsByzzTnI/AAAAAAAAAMI/0O5zTcodTWc/s320/IMG_1008.JPG" width="147" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Today we’re visiting a middle school and high school and I’m interested in seeing the difference in teaching styles and philosophies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmsNCzzToI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/oc8Wi110fxA/s1600-h/IMG_1011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078279394929364610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmsNCzzToI/AAAAAAAAAMQ/oc8Wi110fxA/s320/IMG_1011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-6622230463299870793?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/6622230463299870793/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=6622230463299870793' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/6622230463299870793'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/6622230463299870793'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/welcome-annnn-abahhhhh.html' title='Welcome ANNNN ABAHHHHH!'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmryCzzTlI/AAAAAAAAAL4/E0Eeyw8RCqs/s72-c/IMG_0732.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-8441739309999877870</id><published>2007-06-20T15:31:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T16:17:11.112-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting Paddled</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I've been internet-less for the last 3 days, but I'm safe and in Hikone now...here are some write ups I made whillst internet-free during that time...little confusing, as some is in Tokyo, while other stuff in in Hikone...fear not, dear readers, I'll key you in...&lt;br /&gt;Our last night in tokyo:&lt;br /&gt;I met up with a 3 other JFMF’ers later that evening for a night at Inayaka, a Robata-yaki restaurant.&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078256339544919538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 207px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 132px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="173" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmXPCzzTfI/AAAAAAAAALI/0wBDtBdz1c0/s320/group+shot.JPG" width="242" border="0" /&gt;Robata-yaki is a a particularily Japanese style of eating that I imagine would send any New York chef into a state of envy and dreaming of entrepreneurial mimicry. Here’s the general concept: 2 chefs’ sit on stools in the front of the restaurant, almost like on stage. In front of them each is a cutting board, a grill, then a large display of food items ranging from whole fish to still-alive giant prawns. Diners (about 28-30) are seated around this square stage and here’s where the fun begins. As he takes your order, your waiter places it with the chef kabuki-style (i.e. in a VERY loud, very guttural voice that sounds like its coming from the gut, not the chest). The chef confirms the order, ala kabuki-style, until the whole restaurant is buzzing with near theatrical intensity and one so loud that you must shout into the ear of you’re your dining comp&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmXZizzThI/AAAAAAAAALY/PjMmspc-Pdg/s1600-h/robatachef.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078256519933546002" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 221px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 148px" height="117" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmXZizzThI/AAAAAAAAALY/PjMmspc-Pdg/s320/robatachef.JPG" width="221" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078256597242957346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 186px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 159px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="107" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmXeCzzTiI/AAAAAAAAALg/862xAukmWY0/s320/robatafromweb.jpg" width="117" border="0" /&gt;anions. Now here comes the good part: the food. The chef crawls over his grill towards the baskets of food, picks up what he needs then re-seats himself (no leg fatigue from standing for 12 hours/day?? Brilliant concept!!) Items like tiny river crab, whole fish, kobe beef, and fresh vegetables are grilled to perfection, then placed upon long, wooden, flat-sided paddles and passed to diners. The balancing act done by the chef’s is a feat in and of itself, as even 22 oz. bottles of beer are passed to diners in this manner. With all the hubbub surrounding the presentation of the meal, the food itself was quite simple, many dishes coming with just a subtle sprinkle of salt and a garnish oflemon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmYjizzTkI/AAAAAAAAALw/c60uWoLM3Lk/s1600-h/little+crabs.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078257791243865666" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="124" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmYjizzTkI/AAAAAAAAALw/c60uWoLM3Lk/s320/little+crabs.JPG" width="208" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; Pefection.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmYeCzzTjI/AAAAAAAAALo/nPVEN4HDt6c/s1600-h/bigshrimp.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5078257696754585138" style="WIDTH: 139px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 123px" height="134" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmYeCzzTjI/AAAAAAAAALo/nPVEN4HDt6c/s320/bigshrimp.JPG" width="222" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-8441739309999877870?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/8441739309999877870/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=8441739309999877870' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/8441739309999877870'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/8441739309999877870'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/getting-paddled.html' title='Getting Paddled'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnmXPCzzTfI/AAAAAAAAALI/0wBDtBdz1c0/s72-c/group+shot.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-230543890847236399</id><published>2007-06-17T17:04:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-17T17:27:03.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Not that kinda gal...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnW0gizzTVI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dmNqIcIX2zg/s1600-h/IMG_0638.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077162626122992978" style="CURSOR: hand" height="251" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnW0gizzTVI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dmNqIcIX2zg/s320/IMG_0638.JPG" width="167" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnW0nCzzTWI/AAAAAAAAAKA/dDoalabGZvQ/s1600-h/IMG_0640.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077162737792142690" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 187px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 229px" height="229" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnW0nCzzTWI/AAAAAAAAAKA/dDoalabGZvQ/s320/IMG_0640.JPG" width="147" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077162995490180466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" height="182" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnW02CzzTXI/AAAAAAAAAKI/h6dMSaFa_D8/s320/IMG_0637.JPG" width="187" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After leaving the children’s parade, I headed for the Ameyokocho district of Uena, an outdoor market area home to scads of produce, seafood and dried fish, seaweed, and the like. The most exciting find of this part of my journey was locating the katsuo man (the dude who sells dried bonito fish (I know what yer thinking –how exciting, a guy who peddles dried fish...whooo whoo!!) But wait, this is no ORDINARY dried fish. Along with Kombu (dried seaweed), bonito is what makes Japanese food Japanese food. It’s in just about everything –miso soup, the majority of Japanese sauces and stews, atop pancakes, you name it- and is as delicate as it is kinda weird. To explain: the fish is air dried and pressed for a really long time until it takes on the appearance of hardwood (yum!). Once it’s cured, it is shaved super super thin with a wooden mandoline-like device until it resembles something like fish food (time to feed the fish, Mr. Rogers). It’s in this stage that it’s added to the seaweed stock or used in any way you see fit. Although I’ve been looking for the said item since I read “Japanese Cooking: A simple art,” this is the first I’ve ever seen it. In the states, most people buy the bonito, pre-shaved and in plastic packages or, worse yet, use MSG-laden dried powder mixes which are the equivalent of a bouillon cube to chicken stock. Regardless of the fear that my $15 dried fish log will face an early demise at US customs, I bought the bonito along with a requisite fish shaver for a grand total of a well-spent $70 (I wonder if petty cash will cover it…). Loaded down with my fish and box, I ate more “shave ice” and street food, went to a supermarket and watched an in-house demonstration of tamago-yaki (the egg omelety thing seen atop sushi). The demo was amazing and I recorded the man making it. Unfortunately, in my plight of being a “savvy” (i.e. discreet) documentarian, I taped more of the guy’s head than of his omelets making…oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Now here’s when it gets weird: Word to underage people and those of sensitive dispositions, skip to tomorrow’s entry.&lt;br /&gt;Exhausted from a long day, I walked to Ueno Park and had a seat on the “sit on the bench and rest ride” right inside the park’s front gate. While pursuing through my digitized images, I noticed that these 2 older (i.e. 70+) men were staring at me. I tried to ignore them but it was weird enough to make me think that I had inadvertently taken their seat or I was about to be robbed. Finally standing man left, though sitting man tried to make conversation. He spoke no English, but somehow was able to communicate “do you want to get a drink” (at least that’s what I thought he said). So, as the blog says, "When in Japan..."After a lot of nodding and smiling (boy, am I a good communicator), I went with him to a nearby coffe&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5077160401329933586" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 218px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 174px" height="83" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnWyfCzzTRI/AAAAAAAAAJY/NXtgNQPoWFc/s320/IMG_0667.JPG" width="44" border="0" /&gt;e shop, althewhile thinking the situation odd, though, in the back of my mind hoping it was some sort of cultural exchange. hmmm…As we drunk our coffee, through his hand signals and such, it became somewhat apparent/not-so apparent-(as it wasn’t in English) that he thought I was a prostitute...no really....I think...Mind you, I’m tourist-ed out, with khaki shorts, ugly shoes, maps and the like…hmm...After figuring out his intentions (I think) I sayanara-ed him and left for the station. Like all good lost in translation stories, I’m still not sure what just happened there…I just know the coffee was good.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-230543890847236399?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/230543890847236399/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=230543890847236399' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/230543890847236399'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/230543890847236399'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/not-that-kinda-gal.html' title='Not that kinda gal...'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnW0gizzTVI/AAAAAAAAAJ4/dmNqIcIX2zg/s72-c/IMG_0638.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-6575722688989450387</id><published>2007-06-16T15:44:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T17:44:55.301-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Free day mayham</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRnKizzTFI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Hb24UM-TVp0/s1600-h/IMG_0520.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076796110793821266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRnKizzTFI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Hb24UM-TVp0/s320/IMG_0520.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Our highly regulated schedule got a bit of a breather yesterday, as it was our free day, a gap of time appreciated by all. I wish the program had done this earlier, or more often, as for the first time since I got here, I felt like I was in Japan, not a teacher convention. While other teachers went to far-off cities, I opted to get lost in Tokyo while trying to hit a couple ambiguous destinations in the mean time.&lt;br /&gt;Using the “force,” I navigated myself through the Tokyo subway system that, even in another language, is far easier to explore than NYC’s. First Stop: Kappabashi Tool Street, land of the Japanese restaurant supply shop and home to Tokyo’s waxen food empire. Be in toro, tamago, a bowl of ramen or a giant side of beef, the sample stores of Kappabashi meticulously recreate anything a restaurant might want to display without legions of swarming flies above. Even with the unbelievable price tags (1 piece of&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRkcCzzS_I/AAAAAAAAAHE/zXFC7_pn5yk/s1600-h/IMG_0527.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076793112906648562" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 219px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 156px" height="185" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRkcCzzS_I/AAAAAAAAAHE/zXFC7_pn5yk/s320/IMG_0527.JPG" width="160" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt; toro nigiri for 1500¥, something that works out to about $13!) my lust for fake sushi negated my concept of thrifty shopping, walking out the door spending more money on fake sushi than I’ve ever spent on the real stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I wandered a bit and found a street festival that, through the powers of deduction, I believe was a Buddhist celebr&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRmeSzzTEI/AAAAAAAAAHs/vD5ykr8tKKA/s1600-h/IMG_0553.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076795350584609858" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 178px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 184px" height="152" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRmeSzzTEI/AAAAAAAAAHs/vD5ykr8tKKA/s320/IMG_0553.JPG" width="145" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ation of small children day (???). Fascinated by Japanese street food and tediously (ahemmm) at work in my study of Japanese cuisine, I attempted to eat EVERYTHING in the market, though found my belly unaccommodating. One of my favorite dishes there was a sort of &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRklSzzTAI/AAAAAAAAAHM/skwdRjnMLgU/s1600-h/IMG_0549.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076793271820438530" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" height="105" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRklSzzTAI/AAAAAAAAAHM/skwdRjnMLgU/s320/IMG_0549.JPG" width="157" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;Japanese pancake (Okonomiyaki) with cabbage, dried fish shavings, dried shrimp, topped with an egg then flipped. The final product resembled a giant omelet and was quartered, slathered with a soy-based sauce, then liberally mayonnaise. Another dish I sampled was chicken yaki-tori (chicks on sticks) which, surprisingly, was kinda raw in the middle. As you kids know, I treat salmonella like nuclear fallout and kindly, after taking a couple bites, disposed of in the nearest trash can. Probably the most interesting thing I saw was this woman who d&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRkrizzTBI/AAAAAAAAAHU/qw1i6-bYd9o/s1600-h/IMG_0537.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076793379194620946" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 130px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 111px" height="180" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRkrizzTBI/AAAAAAAAAHU/qw1i6-bYd9o/s320/IMG_0537.JPG" width="151" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;ipped pickled fruit on a stick into this glucose-strong concoction (think REALLY thick corn syrup in clear, blue, red or brown) then placed the candied (?) covered fruit on a slab of ice. Many kids got sprinkles on theirs, and, much to my regret, I was overstuffed by this time (and just looking at it kinda hurt my teeth). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;I heard the sound of drums and walked to the near-by temple which was teaming with kids and men all dressed up in traditional attire and 2 portable temples. After some fanfare from the drums, the kids, lead by the men, hoisted the temple on the shoulders and began to parade through the streets. The&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRkySzzTCI/AAAAAAAAAHc/lU1vTemVptg/s1600-h/IMG_0591.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076793495158737954" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 174px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 190px" height="162" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRkySzzTCI/AAAAAAAAAHc/lU1vTemVptg/s320/IMG_0591.JPG" width="122" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;y came to a stop and received bagged goodies from some ladies at a shop. Not dissimilar to Halloween, the kids and their giant temples preceded through the streets collecting bagged goodies wherever the old ladies were.&lt;br /&gt;Off to Hikone today and will post the best part of yesterday later...no really, it's a keeper..&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRk4CzzTDI/AAAAAAAAAHk/6ObJsZ5-Byc/s1600-h/IMG_0607.JPG"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076793593942985778" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 182px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 176px" height="129" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRk4CzzTDI/AAAAAAAAAHk/6ObJsZ5-Byc/s320/IMG_0607.JPG" width="187" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-6575722688989450387?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/6575722688989450387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=6575722688989450387' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/6575722688989450387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/6575722688989450387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/free-day-mayham.html' title='Free day mayham'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnRnKizzTFI/AAAAAAAAAH0/Hb24UM-TVp0/s72-c/IMG_0520.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-7663076758303473455</id><published>2007-06-15T15:14:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T16:13:49.907-05:00</updated><title type='text'>To the fishmarket and beyond</title><content type='html'>&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnL7eizzS5I/AAAAAAAAAGU/VmLnQ_tRhH4/s1600-h/IMG_0490.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnL7eizzS5I/AAAAAAAAAGU/VmLnQ_tRhH4/s320/IMG_0490.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076396232158694290" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  &lt;div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnL7GCzzS4I/AAAAAAAAAGM/4kiueUG7r-k/s1600-h/IMG_0482.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 224px; height: 167px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnL7GCzzS4I/AAAAAAAAAGM/4kiueUG7r-k/s320/IMG_0482.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076395811251899266" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Dazed and confused but on a mission to see some big fish, I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;descended&lt;/span&gt; the elevator yesterday at 4am to meet with the gaggle of other like-minded fish seekers. Opting for the 280 yen ($2.50) train over the $20 taxi, we arrived early at the world famous &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tstsukiji&lt;/span&gt; wholesale market and tuna auction right in the middle of all its &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;terrific&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;hubub&lt;/span&gt;...and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;hubub&lt;/span&gt; it was, as the place has about 1,000 ways to die or become&lt;a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnL7kyzzS6I/AAAAAAAAAGc/JbfUSWa2fRU/s1600-h/IMG_0489.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnL7kyzzS6I/AAAAAAAAAGc/JbfUSWa2fRU/s320/IMG_0489.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076396339532876706" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; dismembered in a grizzly Quentin &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Tarantino&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;esque&lt;/span&gt; way via hook, knife, or crazy &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;motorized&lt;/span&gt; death machine.  Idea for a class field trip?  I think not&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left; font-family: trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The greatest part of the market is just the massive amount of fish coming and going every day- about 4,000 tons are bought a sold daily for millions of yen and thus become THE fish market of Japan.  We perilously walked towards the back where the tuna auction takes place.  Giant tunas are brought to the area by flatbed cart &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;eviscerated&lt;/span&gt;, heads on, and small 3 inch cross section of the tail removed and displayed.   The buyers take photos and use flashlights to inspect the flesh and make deals.  Ayn, Mike and I left the market, our shoes &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;slightly&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;slimed&lt;/span&gt; and smelling of fresh fish, in search of 6 am sushi.  Savvy travellers we are, we looked for the places with the most "locals" in it, though I highly doubt that any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Tsukiki&lt;/span&gt; market worker longs for raw fish after hauling it through the night.  Instead, we sought Japanese tourists who seemed to have the 411 on where the best catch was in town. Finding one, we waited for a short time then sat down to our Chef's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Omakase&lt;/span&gt; (chef's choice).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;What, you might ask, makes Tokyo sushi different from American sushi?  For one, its the lack of the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;ubiquitous&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;wasabi&lt;/span&gt; ball aside the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;pickled&lt;/span&gt; ginger.  Instead, a minute amount of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;wasabi&lt;/span&gt; is found in almost all the rolls, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;nigiri&lt;/span&gt;. Second is the raw shrimp....now this shrimp isn't just raw, it's "just-dead", as live shrimp are kept on the sushi line.  At the time of each order, sushi &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;chef&lt;/span&gt; pops off their heads, shells them and sticks them on a piece of rice.  The heads are grilled and given to you near the end of the meal.  This preparation, though pretty gruesome now that I think about it, produced the FRESHEST shrimp I've ever tasted and lest you think eating&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnL_-izzS7I/AAAAAAAAAGk/br3qWk5RFmA/s1600-h/IMG_0496.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 226px; height: 169px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnL_-izzS7I/AAAAAAAAAGk/br3qWk5RFmA/s320/IMG_0496.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076401179961019314" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; a grilled shrimp head is gross, you've never really tasted a grilled shrimp head...Our team of intrepid diners weren't sure which one we liked more... Another is the size of the pieces of fish.  These were no one-bite-wonders.  Third, is the lack of napkins, paper towels, or the like.  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Wha&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnMAGizzS8I/AAAAAAAAAGs/k02AgH7xEhI/s1600-h/IMG_0497.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 215px; height: 160px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnMAGizzS8I/AAAAAAAAAGs/k02AgH7xEhI/s320/IMG_0497.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076401317399972802" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;t I find more often is a community washcloth set on the table for all to use.  It almost strikes me as funny in a place &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;sooooo&lt;/span&gt; obsessed with sanitation and cleanliness that it plastic wraps a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;watermelon&lt;/span&gt;, yet has you share a washcloth the the stranger sitting next to you...&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;hm mm&lt;/span&gt;..&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-7663076758303473455?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/7663076758303473455/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=7663076758303473455' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/7663076758303473455'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/7663076758303473455'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/to-fishmarket-and-beyond.html' title='To the fishmarket and beyond'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnL7eizzS5I/AAAAAAAAAGU/VmLnQ_tRhH4/s72-c/IMG_0490.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-864320513289419633</id><published>2007-06-13T18:19:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-14T13:59:05.356-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Noodle Rule</title><content type='html'>&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFV_CzzSyI/AAAAAAAAAFc/5BOK17oKaFU/s1600-h/IMG_0413.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075932796597521186" style="WIDTH: 112px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 84px" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFV_CzzSyI/AAAAAAAAAFc/5BOK17oKaFU/s200/IMG_0413.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFVzCzzSwI/AAAAAAAAAFM/xeCx3p0Ws2M/s1600-h/IMG_0412.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075932590439090946" style="WIDTH: 71px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 95px" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFVzCzzSwI/AAAAAAAAAFM/xeCx3p0Ws2M/s200/IMG_0412.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Jeg&lt;/span&gt;-lagged and aroused at 3:40 am by some psychotic internal clock, I began yesterday with the sound of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Muzac&lt;/span&gt; coming from my art-deco hotel entertainment console, circa 1973. After consuming my weight in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;caffeinated&lt;/span&gt; beverages (Folgers instant and all the green tea I could find in the room, I felt about a new as a 1000-yen bill. With plenty of time to kill before breakfast, I took a walk around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Shinjuku&lt;/span&gt;, the area our hotel is located. The stillness of the morning was interrupted on by the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;CRAWWW&lt;/span&gt; of HUGE black crows and the quiet clip-clip-clip of Japanese businessmen who walked silently beneath the uniformity of the black suit, white shirt, and tie. It made me wonder what would happen if one of them came to work in seersucker, sharkskin, or linen for that matter. I stopped to take a picture of the parade of office workers and the front of our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;gianourmous&lt;/span&gt; hotel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day’s activities began with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Tsutomu&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Kimura&lt;/span&gt;, President of the National Institution for Academic Degrees and University Evaluation, or, as he put it, the most hated man in the University system who detailed Japan’s educational goals, objectives, and pressing issues concerning Japanese education in the 21’st century. Some things I found fascinating about his presentation: &lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;How similar our school’s discipline problems are&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Math and geometry used to be a National pastime, now it’s in decline&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;Japanese educators are just as worried about the declining success rate of their students as American educators are.&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;An afternoon bus tour of Tokyo’s Diet (parliament), and a Buddhist/Shinto shrine provided more inside-a-bus time than walk &amp; tour, but I did learn these things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;ol&gt;&lt;li&gt;The Japanese practice what I feel is a sense of religious pragmatism with regards to Buddhism, Shinto, and/or Christianity. Whatever works, works. &lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;The rains will begin shortly&lt;/li&gt;&lt;li&gt;People taking pictures make really funny pics&lt;/li&gt;&lt;/ol&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFQwSzzSrI/AAAAAAAAAEk/rXHjLiVl7Yc/s1600-h/IMG_0415.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075927045636311730" style="WIDTH: 171px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 128px" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFQwSzzSrI/AAAAAAAAAEk/rXHjLiVl7Yc/s200/IMG_0415.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Upon return from the tour, we all gussied ourselves up again for a welcome reception hosted by David &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;Satterwhite&lt;/span&gt;, Executive Director of Japan-US Educational Commission and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Seyama&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;Kenji&lt;/span&gt;, Director General for International Affairs. After a loud “&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;Kampai&lt;/span&gt;,” spoken with glasses raised, we dined on Japanese and Italian -inspired Western cuisine that, sadly, sounds as bad as it tastes. At the dinner, I forced myself to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;Watashi&lt;/span&gt;-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;wa&lt;/span&gt; (business card) several of my Japanese colleagues, many of whom had spent a year or two in the states, and decided that in Japan, aside from beer and karaoke, a business card is an excellent social lubricant. We dined in a stand-to-mingle fashion and, though still exhausted, left for some “authentic” karaoke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A note on Japanese karaoke: instead of the extremely public humiliation of singing &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;Engleburt&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Humperdink&lt;/span&gt; in front of a room full of strangers, the Japanese system makes the whole experience intimate and private by doing the following:&lt;br /&gt;1. Renting out a soundproof room that can seat up to 12 by the half hour&lt;br /&gt;2. Giving the room unlimited alcoholic beverages&lt;br /&gt;3. Turning the mike volume &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;WAYYYY&lt;/span&gt; low&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plied with beverages, security of friends, and a lack of documented material, Japanese karaoke brings out the karaoke in EVERYONE. Not a bad idea. Here’s a pic: &lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFR1izzSsI/AAAAAAAAAEs/ZCEYCXeSYVc/s1600-h/IMG_0426.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075928235342252738" style="WIDTH: 61px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 81px" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFR1izzSsI/AAAAAAAAAEs/ZCEYCXeSYVc/s200/IMG_0426.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Having woken up &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;WAYYY&lt;/span&gt; TOO EARLY and yet still exhausted, I opted out of going to the fish market at 4:45 in the morning. The lobby was packed with like-minded teachers and, for fear of annoying men with large hooks and giant knives, i'm going tomorrow  with a crowd that &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;doesn&lt;/span&gt;’t threaten to take over an entire market. Instead, a like-minded traveler, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Pilar&lt;/span&gt;, and I decided to roam the early-morning &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;Shinjuku&lt;/span&gt; area in search of sights and noodles. We found just the noodle joint we were looking for. Here’s the game: You stand outside and look at a Japanese-only menu of items, some that have accompanying pictures, others which just indicate to throw caution to the wind and order. Next, you put money in the coin machine (anywhere between 300 Yen-625), get a ticket, hand it to the cook, then go sit down and wait for the noodles. I found this to be a terrific idea, mostly in that the chef need not ever touch money. Perfect for inner city late night eats. Here’s the pics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Breakfast of Champions&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFShyzzStI/AAAAAAAAAE0/v5qP0z-6ONU/s1600-h/IMG_0439.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075928995551464146" style="WIDTH: 149px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 206px" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFShyzzStI/AAAAAAAAAE0/v5qP0z-6ONU/s200/IMG_0439.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFSrSzzSuI/AAAAAAAAAE8/-LBXiM-gzmM/s1600-h/IMG_0442.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075929158760221410" style="WIDTH: 151px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 209px" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFSrSzzSuI/AAAAAAAAAE8/-LBXiM-gzmM/s200/IMG_0442.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFSxyzzSvI/AAAAAAAAAFE/IXH5EpTMaPo/s1600-h/IMG_0443.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075929270429371122" style="WIDTH: 262px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 195px" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFSxyzzSvI/AAAAAAAAAFE/IXH5EpTMaPo/s200/IMG_0443.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-864320513289419633?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/864320513289419633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=864320513289419633' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/864320513289419633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/864320513289419633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/noodle-rule.html' title='Noodle Rule'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RnFV_CzzSyI/AAAAAAAAAFc/5BOK17oKaFU/s72-c/IMG_0413.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-8058288482777307584</id><published>2007-06-12T13:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-12T14:53:26.527-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Deep Fried and Disorientated</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;We landed in Tokyo Narita Airport at around 4 pm yesterday afternoon (A word on “yesterday”.  We left San Francisco on Monday around 1:30 pm and, after crossing the International dateline,  lost a day, literally.  Try to get your jet-lagged head aro&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;und &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;that&lt;/span&gt; one).  Once in Japan&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a style="font-family: arial;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm7uUyzzSdI/AAAAAAAAAC0/--FB6rcHOh4/s1600-h/IMG_0376.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 147px; height: 110px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm7uUyzzSdI/AAAAAAAAAC0/--FB6rcHOh4/s320/IMG_0376.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075255871096965586" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;, we were escorted by a liberal -and almost one escort shy of gratuitous- amount of greeters, each holding signs for the JFMF. What a reception!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;the bus, we were handed a  27,0000 yen monetary allotment for evening meals for which we are on our own.  It was odd being handed cash by som&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;eone,  but as I arrived to the country cash-free, I was more than grateful.  At the hotel, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;we had 45 minutes to rinse the plane funk off ourselves prior to &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;our meet and greet with a Japanese college English student who would dine with us during our first meal in Japan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Once in my room, I felt like an illiterate kid in a high tech toy store, as the room is LOADED with gadgetry and what nots.  Even the toilet was high tech and, dare I say, intimidating.  After having read that a fellow JFMF’er had&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm7zMyzzSeI/AAAAAAAAAC8/hLRw-YWpCyc/s1600-h/IMG_0379.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 120px;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm7zMyzzSeI/AAAAAAAAAC8/hLRw-YWpCyc/s320/IMG_0379.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075261231216151010" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; accidentally hosed his entire bathroom down&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; with his toilet, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm7zTCzzSfI/AAAAAAAAADE/8pCO0MF4raA/s1600-h/IMG_0381.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 130px; height: 174px;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm7zTCzzSfI/AAAAAAAAADE/8pCO0MF4raA/s320/IMG_0381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075261338590333426" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I had reason to worry.  Talk about lost in translation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chaiharu, our volunteer, was delightful, open and incredible host.  She took us to a tempura restaurant where we plied her with questions about etiquette &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;and food and watched her carefully as she went about the routine of eating.  What struck me was  # 1.) how IGNORANT I felt about not just ordering (the menu was only in Japanese) but also dining procedures and #2.) how great it is not to be in control of a dining situation.  What a liberating feeling.  Here’s the meal and the tempura chef.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm742izzSgI/AAAAAAAAADM/L1btOiDE8VI/s1600-h/IMG_0397.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 148px; height: 111px;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm742izzSgI/AAAAAAAAADM/L1btOiDE8VI/s320/IMG_0397.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075267446033828354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm75DSzzShI/AAAAAAAAADU/-vSTy-VkWDY/s1600-h/IMG_0396.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 182px; height: 136px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm75DSzzShI/AAAAAAAAADU/-vSTy-VkWDY/s320/IMG_0396.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5075267665077160466" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-8058288482777307584?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/8058288482777307584/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=8058288482777307584' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/8058288482777307584'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/8058288482777307584'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/deep-fried-and-disorientated.html' title='Deep Fried and Disorientated'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rm7uUyzzSdI/AAAAAAAAAC0/--FB6rcHOh4/s72-c/IMG_0376.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-4182289751012034968</id><published>2007-06-11T08:52:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-11T11:17:30.355-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Whirlwind Begins</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I arrived at San Francisco’s airport a little over 10 am yesterday elated to see my both my bag and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;JFMF&lt;/span&gt; greeter. From there, our gaggle of sleep deprived-running on nervous-&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;enerergied&lt;/span&gt; teachers, we took a bus to the Airport Sheraton and thus began our orientation.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;From the orientation, we learned about customary practices, etiquette, what to expect from our journeys as well as a list of interesting rules.  Many of these "DO &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;NOT'S&lt;/span&gt;" remind me of my classroom's  "List-O-Banned-Behaviors and Activities," typically rules that are unsaid, but must be written only because they've been violated by past students/&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;JFMF&lt;/span&gt; participants.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Some of the more interesting rules include:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Rule Number 1: Do not leave Japan.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Rule Number 2: Do not pull the plug on the guest family’s bathtub (the water is shared). &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rule Number 3: Do not lose your name tag&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rule Number 4:  Do not point&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Rule Number 5: Do not wear sneakers to dress-up occasions&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Rule Number 6: Do not write on "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;meishi&lt;/span&gt;" (&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;business&lt;/span&gt; cards) people give to you&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Rule Number 7: Do not wave goodbye like Princess Diana (This kind of wave means, "come here"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Rule Number 8: No need to take out your tip calculator, as there's no tipping.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bus leaves in 20 minutes, time enough to shut down...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Sayanara Kiddies!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;    &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-4182289751012034968?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/4182289751012034968/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=4182289751012034968' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/4182289751012034968'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/4182289751012034968'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/whirlwind-begins.html' title='The Whirlwind Begins'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-7118859754798145441</id><published>2007-06-09T13:24:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-10T02:30:51.711-05:00</updated><title type='text'>phew...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/Rmry6izzScI/AAAAAAAAACg/o782AMYw1Oo/s1600-h/IMG_0355.JPG"&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:100%;"&gt;With the kitchen is packed up, grades in, and a "good luck, have fun" from my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;colleagues&lt;/span&gt;, I'm &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;outee&lt;/span&gt;. I've got loads of packing to do and an upside down household to contend with, but I'm feeling terrifically lighter today than I have in about a month. The plane leaves at 6:45 tomorrow morning&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RmrywSzzSbI/AAAAAAAAACY/0r_jO8dHPZM/s1600-h/IMG_0356.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5074134841683036594" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; WIDTH: 172px; CURSOR: pointer; HEIGHT: 104px" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RmrywSzzSbI/AAAAAAAAACY/0r_jO8dHPZM/s320/IMG_0356.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and I'm taking a break from my ongoing fashion crisis over &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;hosiery&lt;/span&gt;, shoes, skirt length and other topics that bore men but unite women. I look a picture of b105 prior to leaving just to remind myself in June of 2008 that life looked different way back when. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-7118859754798145441?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/7118859754798145441/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=7118859754798145441' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/7118859754798145441'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/7118859754798145441'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/phew_09.html' title='phew...'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RmrywSzzSbI/AAAAAAAAACY/0r_jO8dHPZM/s72-c/IMG_0356.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-6942300778285680696</id><published>2007-06-07T17:29:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T18:50:56.658-05:00</updated><title type='text'>51 hours, but who's counting?</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Thanks to the go-getterness of my bossman, Evan Cooper and Northern Valley taxpayers, Demarest room B105 will be getting a much deserved face lift and tummy tuck over the summer break.  I've got to hand it to the original construction team, as the room's gone 57 years without such a re-vamp and, though a little (ok, a lot) worn for wear, it's been a poorly ventilated, yet adequate spot to teach in these last 5 years.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Thus, with 57 years under its belt -and counters- I've been commited to a massive campaign of packing or tossing the whole kit and caboodle.  Some questions I've asked myself over the past week: "So, what does one do with 25 eggbeaters?" and "Does having 16 nut choppers make one a nut job?"  Save for playing a round of 'Guess -How- Old -the -Flour- in -the -Sifter- is' with the kids, I've made it my mission to make the room into a lean, mean, cooking machine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:verdana;"&gt;Now that I'm 98% done with the packing and 50 +hours away from a long plane ride I've had some time to photograph Northern Valley Demarest in all its splendor.   Here's my favorite image taken today, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RmiV5yzzSZI/AAAAAAAAACI/2hlhn0XRx0g/s1600-h/IMG_0351.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 331px; height: 185px;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RmiV5yzzSZI/AAAAAAAAACI/2hlhn0XRx0g/s320/IMG_0351.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5073469800356989330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:lucida grande;"&gt;Dr. J in the Garden&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-6942300778285680696?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/6942300778285680696/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=6942300778285680696' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/6942300778285680696'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/6942300778285680696'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/48-hours-but-whos-counting.html' title='51 hours, but who&apos;s counting?'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RmiV5yzzSZI/AAAAAAAAACI/2hlhn0XRx0g/s72-c/IMG_0351.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3046012067565665246.post-4330858643305564413</id><published>2007-06-05T04:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T05:20:20.674-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Cue the Chariots of Fire Theme</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RmU4tizzSQI/AAAAAAAAAA4/gxSj-vEfwzI/s1600-h/Chicken_Little.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072522910392076546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RmU4tizzSQI/AAAAAAAAAA4/gxSj-vEfwzI/s200/Chicken_Little.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;received&lt;/span&gt; my e-tickets, ID badge, and luggage tags yesterday, triggering a sense of impending anxiety. I need to seriously chill, as with o&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nly&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; 5 more days until I leave for Japan, I'm a stressed as a chicken in a poultry factory. As my students and supervisor know, my room will be going through a major &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;face lift&lt;/span&gt; over the summer. While excited about the prospects of working in a kitchen that hasn't been updated since 1957, this also means that I need to clear out everything before my last day of school on June 8. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;The kids have been fabulous, and have kept me grounded for the time being. I've been plying them with "after-clean-up" &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;freezy&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; pops, and though I feel slightly guilty about leaving them a week early, many of them have expressed excitement about my travels. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;I've completed my 2-sided business cards (one side in English, the other in Japanese) and have collected small gifts for my host family. I am all too grateful for Kai &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sakayama&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; , the school's Japanese instructor, and April &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Vella&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;, both who have been more than helpful in assisting me in my preparation for the trip.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;Along with my id badges and tickets, I also was given data on my host family in &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Hikone&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Shiga&lt;/span&gt;. I was excited to find out that it's a four member family: husband, wife, and two grown daughters that live at home. The gifts I picked (I love NY, preserves and chocolates from Maine, playing cards) should be &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;ok&lt;/span&gt;, but I'm wondering if I should pick up something specifically for the man of the house. I'll have to think about that one...&lt;/span&gt; more to come&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Trebuchet MS;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3046012067565665246-4330858643305564413?l=agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/feeds/4330858643305564413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=3046012067565665246&amp;postID=4330858643305564413' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/4330858643305564413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3046012067565665246/posts/default/4330858643305564413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://agoebelinjapan.blogspot.com/2007/06/getting.html' title='Cue the Chariots of Fire Theme'/><author><name>Alexis Goebel</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_D1uWBZQmIKk/RmU4tizzSQI/AAAAAAAAAA4/gxSj-vEfwzI/s72-c/Chicken_Little.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
