I’ve always loved the etymology of ordinary words. Was the color orange first, or the fruit? In this case, I know the answer: the fruit came first, the color second. Until the 1500’s, the west had no orange, only red. Red-breasted robins aren’t red, now are they? That’s why. Japan’s colors are also quite fascinating.… Continue reading Japan Memoir Part 7: Water-Color
Every country has its stereotypes. From Japan’s point of view, Americans are three things: loud, friendly, and generous. We talk too much, too freely, too familiarly. We’re kind to strangers, to everyone. We share our things without holding back, we help our friends when they ask, and offer when they don’t. We like to have… Continue reading Japan Memoir Part 6: The Dream of America
When I was a child, I knew when something fancy was happening because my mother would dress up. She would put on her earrings, curl her bangs higher than usual. Wear a dress, and high-heeled shoes that clicked when she walked. That sound was the sound of grown-ups. At age five, I knew that some… Continue reading Japan Memoir Part 5: The Comfort of a Known Noise
To me, going food shopping in another country is the best part of travel. I love novelty foods, and any given trip to my local grocery store will find me pulling down new flavors of chips and going “ooh, what’s this?” Away from home, I’m prone to exiting with my arms full of new foods, grinning as… Continue reading Japan Memoir Part 4: What Can Be Bought
I have no photos of this time period. None. Not of my apartment, or myself, or Husband. Not the street we lived on or the places we went. Though I bought an iPhone 5 around this time, my first smartphone, I didn’t use it for anything except downloading a voice recording program to use at… Continue reading Japan Memoir Part 3: The Sound of Far-Away
Between a rider and a horse, the rider doesn’t have to think of the horse, but the horse probably spends an awful lot of time thinking about the rider. Sometimes I felt that way about Japan; I spent quite a lot of time thinking about it, but doubt it spent more than a moment considering… Continue reading Japan Memoir Part 2: Streets that Live
Two and a half years ago, I began to write my memoir. It was a strange time in my life. Husband and I were still engaged, and we had just moved from our separate homes in Okayama, Japan, to a shared apartment in Nagoya. We made this move because I had been employed by a… Continue reading Japan Memoir Part 1: When the Worst Happens
Five years ago, I woke to a text from my sister that there had been an earthquake in Japan. I thought little of it, lying in my bed in Ohio. Only a few weeks beforehand, an earthquake there had appeared on the evening news. In America, where a 4.0 can destroy houses, it’s difficult for… Continue reading Swallowed By the Waves: Remembering Tohoku 2011
I am not a romance person. First of all, I’m not good at it, second, I tend to scoff when the subject comes up. Not on purpose, just in a general pah-aren’t-I-such-a-cynical-adult way. Luckily, Husband and I are well-paired in life, because while I’m not much for romance, he doesn’t have a flipping clue what… Continue reading Romance Is For People Not Baffled By It
Way back last August, Husband and I got our second apartment together, and we needed furniture. Like, lots of furniture. Because we literally didn’t own any. “How can this be?” you ask. Pretty easily: we’d sold all of it in Japan a year and a half beforehand. I tell a lie; I did, last August… Continue reading My Coffee Table As a Metaphor For Life
Under-Paid, Over-Enthused 