Totoro

This is what we're watching tonight.

Anyone else out there like Hayao Miyazaki ?

Yumi Gyoza

I wonder how your kids would enjoy this meal. There are lots of interesting things for them to try here - grilled eggplant, teriyaki chicken pieces, tempura prawns and vegies, grilled salmon, miso soup with noodles, egg omelette, grilled steak, salad and steamed rice. Oishii!

It is, believe it or not, the kids' meal at our Kyoto ryokan. Sometime soon I'll show you what the adults were eating at the same time - ten or so courses of the most amazing foods you'll possibly ever read about - but not today. Today I want to talk about kids and food.

Firstly, some amazing news. Your children do not know the cultural heritage of their favourite foods. They also do not regard them as foreign. Some of them may even be regarded as 'comfort foods'.

Gyoza are like that in Jemimah's mind. These delicious morsels called variously pot-sticker dumplings, jiaozi, gaau or momos, are simply minced pork and vegetables wrapped in a thin dough covering with crimped edges. To Jemimah they signify home and familiarity.

In Japan they're called gyoza. The grilled ones, Jemimah's favourite type, are known as yaki gyoza. Only in our peaceful home we call them yumi gyoza. Because they're yummy, not yucky.

They're pretty easy to make. I keep gyoza wrappers in the freezer and just pull them out when I need them. More often though I use frozen packet ones. Frozen dumplings from an Asian store are one of the few convenience foods we keep in our home, and they're as yummy as the ones you get in restaurants most of the time. Perhaps the restaurants use the frozen type too. I'll wager that some of them do, in fact.

Sometimes in Japan when Jemimah had had her fill of new and exciting culinary experiences - of grilled salmon, nagaimo and nattō for breakfast and sea snails for lunch, we would head out for a meal of gyoza. After a couple of platesful of these delicious morsels she would be happy to be brave once more.

Comfort foods are like that.

What sort of foods do you eat in your home? Is your diet similar to that of your parents? Is your children's diet similar to yours? It's a funny thing you know, but kids in India and Thailand grow up eating spicy curries; kids in Bhutan eat chilli and cheese; kids in Japan eat nagaimo and nattō and kids in China eat sea cucumber. Scottish kids eat deep-fried Mars Bars; English kids eat pickled onions and mushy peas; Aussie kids eat Vegemite; and I'm told that some kids in America even eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Ewww! The amazing thing is that if you introduce your kids to these foods early enough, they'll eat them too. They might come to love them even!

The secret is to start young. It is much harder to change a child's food habits later when they're already used to peanut butter and jelly. Ugh. Harder, but not impossible though. Never assume that your kids won't like a food just because it is foreign. Remember, they won't even know that it is foreign unless you tell them. It constantly amazes me to see the foods Jemimah falls in love with. We spent hours in Japan trudging the streets one day for a packet of nori seaweed because she had an unsatisfied urge for a packet of sheets of plain green seaweed. Weird but true. Not that it is hard to purchase nori in Japan mind you, but we wanted enough for one kid for a week, not for a family for a month. Packets of nori in Japan are pretty huge we discovered.

Some kids are naturally fussy. No matter what you introduce them to, they aren't going to ever be terribly adventurous eaters. The greater variety you offer them, the more likely it is that they'll discover something they like to eat though. It is worth persevering.

The rule in our home is that you don't have to like a new food but you do have to at least try it. Just because you don't like it served one way doesn't mean you don't like it served another way, either. Sometimes you even need to taste something a few times before you come to like its flavour. Olives were like this for me. I ate an awful lot of olives before I came to enjoy them. Nowadays I love them. We all do. It took Jemimah a long time to eat sushi, but you can't keep her away from it now. Maybe it's the nori!!

The world is getting smaller. Few of my grandparents' generation travelled; most of Jemimah's will. They, like me, want to see the world, and when they do, they'll enjoy the experience all the more if they're willing to experiment with the food, if they're just willing to give it a go.

One night in Japan we were tired. We'd been walking all day and we needed to eat. We were in a land full of the most sublime food. We could have had ramen or tempura or sushi or tonkatsu or udon or unagi or okonomiyaki.

We could have had yumi gyoza.

But we didn't. We had McDonalds.

Sometimes even a kid as adventurous as Jemimah needs fries.

Where am I going?

I'm feeling paralysed by indecision and I hope you'll help me. I have been staring at Blogger now for...ummm... quite a while and I just don't know what to talk to you all about. It's not that I don't have things to say - far from it - my recent trip to Japan has left me with an embarrassing wealth of interesting anecdotes along with several thousand images with which to illustrate them. I just don't quite see what relevance they have to my blog.

I struggle with direction for A Peaceful Day. What am I trying to achieve here? I began life with an aim of Australianising Ambleside Online. I still think that there's scope for that, and I think that I do it well, but I think that very few of you, my precious friends and followers have any interest in that whatsoever. Are there any other Aussie AOers out there? Are any of you interested in my Aussie kids' lit choices? Literature reviews take me an inordinate amount of time in research and compilation and yet they are amongst the least commented upon of my posts.

Whenever I ask you what you want to hear about you say you want to know about our day. That always puts me into a spin. You see our days are all pretty much the same. We read great books, we memorise scripture, we use MEP for maths, we go on nature walks and we cook. Sometimes we do science experients and write them up using scientific notation and report writing techniques. We sing. We speak French. We draw and paint and knit and embroider and do tapestry. We have fun. But I've told you about all of these. What more can I say? We don't do clever scrapbooking and lapbooks and activities to show you. We don't do busywork. We don't build sculptures or make forts or any of that other incredibly impressive stuff that many of you do.

We do travel. I can tell you about our trip, but do you really want to hear about what we did on holidays, or am I just indulging myself and making you suffer politely through the cyberspace version of Austie Esme's slideshow?

Do you want me to tell you about the Tsujiki Fish Market:

Maybe the kudzu gruel story will strike your fancy:

Would you prefer to hear about the Sanja Matsuri perhaps?

What about food? Keiseki cuisine needs to be seen to be believed:

Perhaps books are more your thing. Would you like to hear about the books I bought from Keibunsha?

Or maybe talk more about geisha?

I just can't seem to make a decision today. Do you want to hear about our trip at all? Please help me.

While you're deciding, maybe you'd like to pop over to Living and Learning to hear all about our wonderful day together at the zoo. I just adored meeting Sue and Linda and their fantabulous kids. And at least that is vaguely related to homeschooling.

If you don't want to hear me waffling on about our holiday what do you want to hear about? I really can't decide by myself.

Happy Queen's Birthday weekend everyone.

Keepers of a Vanishing World

I'm not the only person to fall in love with Sayuri. Despite being surrounded by controversy, Arthur Golden's Memoirs of a Geisha spent two years on The New York Times bestseller list. It sold more than four million copies in English and was translated into thirty-two languages around the world before being made into an Academy award winning film in 2005. It is one of my favourite books of all time.

Sayuri spawned a lifelong love of geishas for me. To me the geisha represents the magic of Edo Japan. She is the keeper of a vanishing world of beauty, grace, style, and custom. She is the embodiment of all that it is to be Japanese. To me, the geisha is the Kyoto that used to be.

Japanese actress Tanaka Yuko, says of geisha:

Geisha remain the last bastion of traditional accomplishments including shamisen playing, the singing of traditional songs and narratives, Japanese classical dance, the taiko drum, the Japanese flute, formal etiquette and deportment, the art of donning a kimono and more.

Kyoto: A Cultural History by John Dougill p195

Kyoto Gokagai is the heartland of the geisha. Divided into Five Hanamachi 花街 or 'flower districts' , Gokagai is where you can still find the magic of Edo Japan on the streets of 21st century Kyoto. Though considerably smaller now than in their heyday of the 1920s, here you still find geiko (the kyoto word for geisha) and their more beautiful trainee sisters the maiko, the ochaya teahouses and okiya boarding houses and the kaburenjo theatres. This is the home of the geisha.

The Gion of Memoirs of a Geisha is the largest of the flower districts. in 1886 it was split into two, Gion Kobu and Gion Higashi. Located close by are second largest, Pontocho in the lively nightlife passageway situated along the Kamo river, and Miyagawa-cho. Kamishichiken in the north of the city is the fifth.

Sadly an inside look into the flower and willow world karyūkai 花柳界 of the geisha remains a reality for a privilaged wealthy few. A private party with a geiko and maiko for a couple of hours may cost up to several thousand dollars. The customers are still there, but alas we are not amongst their number, and our geisha experience until now has been limited to rare and often tourist filled chance sightings along the hanamachi streets.

The best tourist experiences are often the most unplanned, and for us this was no exception when our time in Kyoto overlapped with the final day of the Pontocho district annual dance performance, the 173rd Kamogawa Odori. The Kamo River Dance was first performed back in 1872 as part of a campaign along with a performance of Gion's Miyako Odori, or Dance of the Capital, to promote Kyoto and provide entertainment for the influx of spring tourists. Later the other three hanamachi followed suit.

The dances are great occasions in their districts. Each is staged in its own Kaburenjo theatre and has its own distinctive style.
The classically styled Miyako Odori performed by the Gion geisha is the most prestigious. The Kamogawa Odori is much more relaxed and dare I say it, fun.

It is presented in two parts. The first half is a theatrical piece in many scenes, with emphasis on the acting skills of the geisha, while the second half is reserved for showcasing various independent dances performed as a picture scroll, one after the other. This year, the geiko of Pontocho, presented us with a wonderful history lesson in their performance of Women in the Last Days of the Tokugawa Shogunate.

The revue begins with a clashing of swords and the sound of angry men. It seems that the proimperial samurai are chasing somebody who is proshogunate. (I am not this clever - it is lucky I had the programme to help me here!) The young man is injured, but when a geiko called Hagino comes out of the door of her ochaya, he captures her and takes her captive, shutting himself inside with her.

Inside, the geiko are rehursing their dance. Suddenly Hagino and her captor, Saburo, break into the room. At first they are afraid, but they quickly discover that he is a fainthearted rookie and then suddenly their positions are reversed. I must say, I don't blame him for being a little afraid of okaa-san お母さんhouse mother - she was pretty tough!

Most women in Kyoto are proimperial. Saburo is, therefore, their great enemy! He is now their hostage, and all is finished. He considers an honourable death by seppuku or harikiri, but suddenly their is a commotion outside. A maid runs in to inform them that the proimperial searchers have come to search the house. The maid looks at the young man. "Saburu!" she cries.

To cut a long and entertaining story short, The maid, Omitsu, is Saburu's childhood sweetheart. Although they were engaged, Saburu ran away to prove himself worthy, and Omitsu came to Kyoto looking for him. She throws herself (decorously) on Saburu and declares her undying love toward him.

All young women melt at a love story, and the watching geiko are no exception. They help the young lovers escape into the night, entertaining and delaying the pursuers with their beautiful dance.

The late moon has risen and casts its beauty over the river Kamo.

The curtain falls.

Sigh...such exquisite beauty.

Tickets to the Kamogawa Odori include green tea served by a maiko.

We were seated in full view of the room in the front row. I hate to imagine how many of the strict rules of tea etiquette we broke during those few minutes as we ate our sugary sweet and drank our green frothy matcha tea, but I can tell you that I was kinda blown away when the beautiful maiko ceremonially presented her freshly whisked bowl of matcha served in an exquisitely decorated bowl to me before bowing to the floor at my feet! All eyes were on me, the big gawky gaijin foreigner. I supported my bowl in my left hand, turned it twice clockwise 90 degrees so that the best side of the beautiful bowl faced the maiko and then drank. Once, twice, three times. Everybody laughed. So did I. The maiko lowered her eyes and turned away.

The Princess Paradigm

The Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique is dedicated to every True Princess who ever dreamed her sneakers were glass slippers and to girls who believe it’s better to twirl than walk, sing than talk and that everything goes better with sparkles. For now, she wants her own Fairy Godmother, a little sprinkling of Fairy Dust, and the glamorous attention every Real Disney Princess deserves. You supply the dream and we’ll supply the style and magic to help you make your fairy-tale dreams come true.

Bibbidi Bobbidi Boutique brochure, Walt Disney World

Some people don't approve of princesses. Peggy Orenstein, for example, in her article for the New York Times, What’s Wrong with Cinderella?. Peggy recounts the displeasure she feels when her three year old daughter is referred to as 'Princess' by the checkout chick at the supermarket, is served a 'princess meal' at her local brekky joint, and is handed a pink balloon at Longs Drugs. When she eventually arrived at the dentist's office she, in her own words, finally became unhinged:

Dentist: Would you like to sit in my special princess throne so I can sparkle your teeth?

Peggy: Oh for (goodness or a word to that effect) sake! Do you have a princess drill too?

The dentist stared at her as if she were an evil stepmother.

Peggy: Come on! It's 2006, not 1950. this is Berkeley, Calif. Does every little girl really have to be a princess?

Daughter: Why are you so mad, Mama? What's wrong with princesses?

I'm with the three-year-old. What's wrong with princesses, indeed? Peggy, it seems, after recovering from her embarrassing diatribe at the dentists, worries about impact that the Princess paradigm might play in her daughter's future. She worries about the gender and racial stereotypes. She worries about the conventionally feminine beliefs. She worries about her need to be perfect, kind and caring, to please everyone, be very thin and dress right. She worries about her wanting to wear glass slippers and travel in a pumpkin coach. This, it seems is not what she wants for her princess daughter.

Yet, despite raising her own daughter to be a modern empowered young lady, it seems Miss Three has a mind of her own. And Miss Three likes being a princess.

More to the point, when my own girl makes her daily beeline for the dress-up corner of her preschool classroom — something I’m convinced she does largely to torture me — I worry about what playing Little Mermaid is teaching her. I’ve spent much of my career writing about experiences that undermine girls’ well-being, warning parents that a preoccupation with body and beauty (encouraged by films, TV, magazines and, yes, toys) is perilous to their daughters’ mental and physical health. Am I now supposed to shrug and forget all that? If trafficking in stereotypes doesn’t matter at 3, when does it matter? At 6? Eight? Thirteen?

On the other hand, maybe I’m still surfing a washed-out second wave of feminism in a third-wave world. Maybe princesses are in fact a sign of progress, an indication that girls can embrace their predilection for pink without compromising strength or ambition; that, at long last, they can “have it all.” Or maybe it is even less complex than that: to mangle Freud, maybe a princess is sometimes just a princess. And, as my daughter wants to know, what’s wrong with that?

Personally, I don't think there's anything wrong with Jemimah dressing up as a princess for a time. Because you see, the rest of the time she's not the Princess Jemimah at all. She's just plain, common Jemimah, Australian country schoolkid, with her chores and the drudgery of everyday life. Kinda like Cinderella before the ball, but not quite as bad. Kinda.

Peggy's daughter asks what's wrong with Cinderella:

“There’s that princess you don’t like, Mama!” she shouted.

“Um, yeah,” I said, trying not to meet the other mother’s hostile gaze.

“Don’t you like her blue dress, Mama?”

I had to admit, I did.

She thought about this. “Then don’t you like her face?”

“Her face is all right,” I said, noncommittally, though I’m not thrilled to have my Japanese-Jewish child in thrall to those Aryan features. (And what the heck are those blue things covering her ears?) “It’s just, honey, Cinderella doesn’t really do anything.”

Now I'll admit here that I'm not very up with the Disney version of fairytales. Jemimah and I rely on Daddy to tell us which princess we're actually meeting, if truth be told, but in the version of Cinderella that I know, Cinderella does quite a lot.

My Cinderella is lovely, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, good, faithful, gentle and self controlled. (It is a fairytale, after all.) She is graceful, refined, loyal, industrious and polite. Reserved and Patient. She is chaste.

Despite her circumstances she is not angry, bitter or miserable. Rather, in contrast, she is tough and resilient.

And it is because of who she is that Cinderella becomes a princess. It is not because of what she was, but because of who she was as a person that makes her Fairy Godmother come on the night of the Ball. She makes her more beautiful, but she doesn't make her more good. She was that already.

Jane Yolen in America's Cinderella writes this:

Cinderella speaks to all of us in whatever skin we inhabit: the child mistreated, a princess or highborn lady in disguise bearing her trials with patience and fortitude. She makes intelligent decisions for she knows that wishing solves nothing without concomitant action. We have each of us been that child. It is the longing of any youngster sent supperless to bed or given less than a full share at Christmas. It is the adolescent dream. (299-99)

This is the dream that Disney picks up on in their Disney merchandise - not just through Cinderella, but through all their Princess Merchandise. This is the dream that they refer to in their Bibbidi Bobbidi mission statement at the top of this post. Disney helps your little girl to become Princess for a day, and Jemimah, for one loves being a princess more than almost anything else.

What's wrong with girls wanting to be princesses? To me, absolutely nothing. I will continue to help my daughter to be the best that she can be. I will help her to be the woman that God wants her to be. And if she wants to be a princess for a few days along the way then so be it. I'll just be there to document the experience:

Bibbidi Bobbidy Boo!

Toilet Humour

On the contrary, those parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and the parts that we think are less honourable we treat with special honour. And the parts that are unpresentable are treated with special modesty, while our presentable parts need no special treatment. 1 Corinthians 12:22-24a

Any traveller worth his backpack will have his own share of toilet tales to recount. These are the stories that are humiliating in the extreme at the time, but you dine out on them for years to come.

As a lemming, I have many.

There was this toilet throne in Malaysia - up three flights of stairs - from which you could survey your kingdom. My, that was a classy one. Only problem was, you couldn't lock the door. There is no propping the door shut with your foot from up there. Think about it. Despite appearances, it doesn't flush. You dip water from that box on the left, the mandi, with a scoop and just pour it down. Works pretty well, actually. You wash your hands with mandi water too. Later, you use the same method to bathe. But I digress. We're on toilets here.

Then there was this one. In Vietnam. Now I've used my share of squat loos throughout Asia. Generally they're more hygienic than the sit-on style, and I vastly prefer them. I can't help but wonder whether they've forgotten something here, though... Um, like the holes?

I couldn't bring myself to take a photo of the toilet in Bhutan. The squat one where the pile of...um...er...your know...reached so high that squatting was a physical impossibility. So what do you do, girls? Stand?

Wait! There's more! There was the one in Borneo. The one over the river. Yes, the river. The same one that you showered in. And cooked with water from. And drank. When you scooped water you had to watch for floating...ummm...oh never mind. Yes, there was that one.

Ah, of course. The one in South-west China. There was just a room there. Four walls, a door and a concrete floor. Nothing else. There are times when all you want is a nice clean bush to go behind...

Then there are the toilets in Japan. Some of them - the old Japanese style ones - are the squat type. Pretty okay, most of them, provided you remember to face the plumbing. In most of the rest of Asia you face away. Apart from that, all you need to remember is the toilet paper. Most Westerners find it kinda essential. I do, anyhow, especially after I ran out in Borneo.

I didn't take this photo. I found it here. This nice specimen even has loo paper. In a pretty pink holder. A double-decker variety, no less. The bin is for the used paper. You do not, I repeat, do not flush it down the bowl. Glad it isn't my job to empty the bin.

The other type of toilet in Japan is the Western type. Only it is quite unlike the loo in any Western country I've ever visited. You can catch hubby's video of our toilet here. What WAS he thinking of, videoing the toilet? I am quite aghast!

At least he didn't film someone demonstrating... This is our fifth trip to Japan (I think), but there have been significant advances in Washlets since our last visit.

Tototalk



This model had the following features:

• Automatic, hands-free flushing system
• Sensor-activated lid that automatically lifts as you approach the toilet and lowers as you walk away.
• Soft-close toilet lid that closes automatically after flushing
• Auto flush activated by Sensors or the Simple Touch of a Button
• Gentle Aerated Warm Water
• Front and Rear Washing
• Vibrating spray nozzles
• Pulsating cleansing mode
• Warm air drying with variable temperature setting
• Automatic fan to remove smells
• Sound muffler with variable volume
• Heated seat with temperature control

Interestingly, having viewed the video, the clever toilet operates differently depending on whether you approach it front forward, in which case lid and seat rise together as shown, or back first, in which case only the seat rises. How clever is that?!!

Despite the advanced features, the toilet is somewhat incomprehensible to poor gaikokujin, since the controls are written only in Japanese kanji characters. It is hard enough sometimes to get the thing to actually flush, let alone wash, condition, dry and curl your bits for you. I am afraid I was known to dart quickly from some public toilets without flushing, only hoping that it was one of the self flushing models available. Another time I left with the sound of a quickly flowing waterfall emanating from the cubicle, the result of too much curious random button pressing.

It seems though that these new-fangled toilets confuse more than just we foreigners. Prize for the fanciest toilet must go to the Okamoto Keiyaku Reformed Presbyterian Church in Kobe, which has three buttons for every function I have seen elsewhere. The instructions - in Japanese only take up two A5 pages and are pinned alongside the wall mounted computer. It was all that I could manage to flush this beauty, but I'm sure the other buttons were not just there to look pretty.

So there you have it.

Toilets.

Amazing what you'll find when you visit A Peaceful Day isn't it?

To raise the tone marginally, I leave you with a literary quote. On toilets. It's from The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery. More on this book in coming posts. Have a read:

The paper at Monsier Ozu's abode - thick, soft, gentle and delicately perfumed - is there to lavish respect upon a part of the body that, more than any other, is partial to such respect. How much for one roll? I wonder, as I press the middle flush button, which is crossed with two lotus flowers; my tiny bladder, despite its lack of autonomy, can hold a fair amount. One lotus flower seems a bit skimpy, three would be narcissistic.

And then something dreadful happens.

A monstrous racket assails my ears, practically striking me down on the spot. What is terrifying is that I cannot tell where it is coming from. It is not the flush, I cannot even hear the flush, it is coming from above me and right down upon me. My heart is beating wildly... ...Did I press the wrong button, misjudging the amount produced — such presumptuousness, such pride, Renée, two lotus flowers for such a ridiculous contribution — and consequently I am being punished by the earsplitting thunder of divine justice? Am I guilty of overindulging - of luxuriating - in the voluptiousness of the act...? Have my lumpen manual laborer’s fingers, succumbing to the effect of some unconscious wrath, abused the subtle mechanism of the lotus button, thereby unleashing a cataclysm in the plumbing that threatens the entire fourth floor with seismic collapse?…

I am convinced I have gone mad, or have arrived in heaven, because the unholy racket, indistinguishable thus far, now becomes clearer and, unthinkably, sounds not unlike Mozart.

Sounds, in fact, like the Confutatis in Mozart’s Requiem. Confutatis maledictis, flammis acribus addictis!

I am hearing beautiful…. voices.

I have gone mad.

こんにちは、私たちは家にいる！

Konnichiwa.

Hello. It's cold in Melbourne. I'm huddled in front of the fire wrapped in a mohair blanket, and I'm still cold. Is it really chilly, do you reckon, or am I just tired? Both probably. Dunno.

We arrived home this morning. The others are sleeping. Probably a bad idea sleeping in the middle of the day, but there you are. We don't always make good choices. I'm watching Wife Swap on the telly, for example. I think I'd be better off asleep. Why do these women subject themselves to this kind of total humiliation, do you think? This is totally a bad choice, but I can't be bothered finding the remote. I'm eating toast and Vegemite. And drinking coffee. Actually, I'm sort of overdosing on coffee, and I'm happy about it. Those are good choices.

I've lots of exciting things to tell you about our holiday. It was super great. I missed you all, of course, but only the littlest bit. You always miss people more when you're the ones left at home than when you're the travellers. They're the ones having all the new experiences, and real life seems a very long way away. I did think of you though. We head home to the country tomorrow, and back to reality the day after. Jemimah is so not looking forward to school. We're not looking forward to work either. Oh well.

I am, however, looking forward to Literacy Lava 5. It's published tomorrow. Don't forget to pop on over to The Book Chook blog first thing in the morning, to get your copy. It's good. Earlier editions are still available as well, if you haven't read them all. You should.

Bleh. Who invented red-eye flights anyhow? Bad idea. The movie I watched was good though. It was called A Tale of Ululu's Wonderful Forest ウルルの森の物語. Here's the YouTube clip. It's in Japanese, but if you can get hold of the version with English subtitles - or if you and your family speak Japanese, then I thoroughly recommend this wonderful family movie. You'll get an idea of why I like the film from the clip even if you can't understand it. Let me know if you want me to review it in more detail. The Japanese language website is here.

Well, s'pose I'd better go and awaken the others before it's tonight. They'll be dancing the night away if I don't. I'll talk again soon - just as soon as we download the photos and get the suitcases unpacked. It's been nice talking to you all, friends.

I'll leave you with two funny things from the mouth of Miss Jemimah.

Funny Thing Number One

Last night they were making a last call for a passenger. It went something like this:

PA Announcer - Passenger Shen Lee Wah (or some equally Chinese sounding name), please make your way to Gate Lounge Four immediately.

Miss Jemimah - Oh listen, they're calling for Passenger Alice Wallaby. She must be late for her aeroplane.

Yes, Jemimah, I'm sure that was just the name I heard too...

Funny Thing Number Two

Miss Jemimah - You know, Bhutan and Japan are really quite similar in lots of ways.

Me - Really? I wouldn't have thought so. Give me an example.

Miss Jemimah - Well, Bhutan was very hot (it wasn't actually), and Japan is very cold (ahem, really?). So you see, they're both verys!!!!!!!!!!

Yep right. I knew that.

What a disjointed post. Okay, okay. I'm tired.

Oh, one more thing - we managed to get to 99 followers. Pretty cool, hey? Thank you all. One more, anyone? Going cheap!! HeeHee

バイバイ Bai Bai

Tokyo Highlights

Mum:
Seeing original Utagawa Hiroshige ukiyo-e at Ukiyo-e Ota Memorial Museum of Art in Harajuku;
Eating sushi at Sushi Dai Wa inside the Tsukiji Fish Market at 6 in the morning;
Meeting Sue and her wonderful fam.

Dad:
Shiatsu full body pummelling;
Happening upon the Sanja Matsuri unexpectedly and seeing old Edo come to life;
Eating hibachi grilled food at Ohmatsuya robata-yaki right along side the Sony Building in the upmarket Ginza shopping area.

Jemimah:
Miniature plastic dolls house food from Kiddy Land...actually, all of Kiddy Land was pretty speco;
Playing with the old-fashioned toys at the Shitamachi Museum;
The Flying Fox at the playground in Hibiya Park.

Off to Disneyland tomorrow.

Hooroo.

Hurro!

Image from here

Hurro there! How are you? I'm good. Tired, but good. Happy. Tired, good and happy. With sore feet.

Now, greetings done, I'll get right down to the trip report...if you're interested in what we're doing, of course. If not, then feel free to skip to more important things.

Is there anything more important, I ask you? Really!!

Whatever.

Anyhow, we've experienced this.
We've eaten here.
Weve been here with this wonderful family.
We saw this and ate this.
We did some serious people watching here and especially here.
We pigged out here and here.
We delighted in this.
We loitered here and here and here and somewhere else, but I can't remember its name.

We've done a heap of other stuff too - and eaten at some other places. We're only up to Day Four believe it or not.

And now I'm going to bed. Then it will be Day Five.

Goodnight, sweet ones. Miss you.

A magnifying glass on Japan

The whole tendency of modern Geography, as taught in our schools, is to strip the unfortunate planet which has been assigned to us as our abode and environment of every trace of mystery and beauty. There is no longer anything to admire or to wonder at in this sweet world of ours. We can no longer say with Jasper Petulengro, - "Sun, moon and stars are sweet things, brother; there is likewise the wind on the heath." No, the questions which Geography has to solve henceforth are confined to how and under what conditions is the earth's surface profitable to man and desirable for his habitation. No more may children conceive themselves climbing Mont Blanc or Mount Everest, skating on the Fiords of Norway or swimming in a gondola at Venice. These are not the things that matter, but only how and where and why is money to be made under local conditions on the earth's surface. It is doubtful whether this kind of teaching is even lucrative because the mind works on great ideas, and, upon these, works to great ends. Where science does not teach a child to wonder and admire it has perhaps no educative value.

Perhaps no knowledge is more delightful than such an intimacy with the earth's surface, region by region, as should enable the map of any region to unfold a panorama of delight, disclosing not only mountains, rivers, frontiers, the great features we know as 'Geography,' but associations, occupations, some parts of the past and much of the present, of every part of this beautiful earth.

Charlotte Mason, Towards A Philosophy of Education, p224

I have written before of my daughter's privilege in having an intimate and personal knowledge of many regions of our beautiful earth. She has travelled extensively and often, and her knowledge has broadened in so many areas as a consequence, just as Charlotte Mason says it should.

The freedom of travel that we know now was unheard of amongst the children of Victorian England, and so we find no instructions in Miss Mason's educational tomes on how to prepare our children for travelling; what books to read; and whether it is, in fact appropriate to alter a set curriculum to include an in depth study of the region to be visited, but I feel quite sure that she would find preparation for travel appropriate and indeed desirable.

The panoramic method (of geography) unrolls the landscape of the world, region by region, before the eyes of the scholar with in every region its own conditions of climate, its productions, its people, their industries and their history. This way of teaching the most delightful of all subjects has the effect of giving to a map of a country or region the brilliancy of colour and the wealth of detail which a panorama might afford, together with a sense of proportion and a knowledge of general principles.

Charlotte Mason, Towards A Philosophy of Education, p228

But how? How do we kindle the imagination? What ingredients can we provide to allow the child to create the connection without placing ourselves right in the way of that happening? How can we prevent our study becoming the type of amusing farce of a unit study that Miss Mason describes so amusingly in Towards a Philosophy of Education (p 115)?

The conscientious, ingenious and laborious teachers who produce these 'concentration series' are little aware that each such lesson is an act of lese majesté. The children who are capable of and eager for a wide range of knowledge and literary expression are reduced to inanities; a lifelong ennui is set up; every approach to knowledge suggests avenues for boredom, and the children's minds sicken and perish long before their school-days come to an end.

These are the questions I ponder before each voyage to distant climes. Should I do something different? Should I do nothing at all?

Over the years, over the trips abroad I have tried a number of different methods of introducing a region of the world prior to our departure. Some were more successful than others. None are failures though, because the travel alone with no intervention by me is the best teacher of all. But can I help?

Miss Mason makes much of this idea of a child forming the connections between ideas himself without interference from the teacher. She disliked forced connections very much. She did, however link certain subjects in her schools:

The co-ordination of studies is carefully regulated without any reference to the clash of ideas on the threshold or their combination into apperception masses; but solely with reference to the natural and inevitable co-ordination of certain subjects. Thus, in readings on the period of the Armada, we should not devote the contemporary arithmetic lessons to calculations as to the amount of food necessary to sustain the Spanish fleet, because this is an arbitrary and not an inherent connection; but we should read such history, travels, and literature as would make the Spanish Armada live in the mind.

Our aim in education is to give children vital interests in as many directions as possible - to set their feet in a large room (Psalm 31:8) -because the crying evil of the day is, it seems to me, intellectual inanition.

Charlotte Mason, School Education p231

Okay, to extrapolate then: A study of Japan should involve readings in history, literature, geography and the arts, to enhance the imagination and make Japan live in my daughter's mind, giving her as many directions as possible, but allowing her to create her own connections in her own mind.

So to our plan.

Map Drill

We've focused our map drill around Japan, identifying other Asian countries in the region, the names of seas and islands and major cities. We've discussed a little of the politics and the border disputes with Russia, China, Korea and Taiwan because of their proximity.

We've also mapped the Tōkaidō Highway, important in our art study below.

Art

I discussed our Picture study here. We're looking at the woodcuts of Andō Hiroshige 安藤広重, and hope to see some of his work during our visit. We're locating the various staging posts on our map as well.

Folk Songs

We've learned the lovely Japanese folk song, Toko No Tsuki (but our version is written for kids and is from The Sing! Collectors' Edition 1995-1984.) Have a listen to this version though - it is beautiful.

Literature

Jemimah is reading the terribly sad but enormously thought provoking Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes by Eleanor Coerr. As the legend goes in Japan, if you fold one thousand paper cranes, your wish will be granted. It was Sadako's friends who managed to fold the remaining cranes to make up the thousand she needed, but we've been folding them too. Only we don't fold for luck - we fold for peace.

We're also reading The Big Wave and One Bright Day by Pearl S Buck. It was books from this wonderful author that first kindled my own interest in Asia. I'm hoping she might do the same for Jemimah.

One of our family read alouds is The Ink-Keeper's Apprentice by Allen Say, and based on Allen's own boyhood in Japan. Grandfather's Journey is one of our family's favourite picture books, and this novel is proving every bit as good so far. I would own every one of this man's books if I could.

Other things

There's other stuff too. We've used the excellent book Tokyo Friends by Betty Reynolds as a gentle introduction to the language, culture and etiquette of Japan. Studies of this type are much more fun when you're going to be there imminently!!

We've learned the kanji for telling the men's toilet room from the women's. Highly important stuff, this. Critical even.

女男

We've learned life skills, like packing neatly in a suitcase. Colour matching clothes has been an interesting one as well!!

Education is part of life, isn't it? It's hard to say now what else we're learning because we don't think of it as education - it is just part of preparing for our holiday. Our grand and exciting adventure to Japan.

I've done my bit. We've made adequate preparation. The rest now is up to Jemimah. I'm packing our nature notebooks though. Miss Mason tells us that they're excellent travelling companions!

But the peculiar value of geography lies in its fitness to nourish the mind with ideas, and to furnish the imagination with pictures. Herein lies the educational value of geography.

Charlotte Mason Home Education p 272

東海道五十三次

... Living only for the moment, turning our full attention to the pleasures of the moon, the snow, the cherry blossoms and the maple leaves; singing songs, drinking wine, diverting ourselves in just floating, floating; ... refusing to be disheartened, like a gourd floating along with the river current: this is what we call the floating world...

Asai Ryōi 浮世物語 Tales of the Floating World 1661

1 Nihonbashi

The beautiful woodblocks of ukiyo-e, 浮世絵, tell the story of old Japan - a Japan closed and isolated from the rest of the world - a Japan of fleeting beauty, of geisha, kabuki, courtesans, sumo, samurai and daimyo. They tell the story of the floating world, a time of transience and impermanence.

Early ukiyo-e portray urban life and culture. Although today we generally associate the term with prints, it was as books that the genre first developed and was most popular. Guidebooks and picture books were widely available. Later landscapes and nature as subjects became more common.

Andō Hiroshige 安藤広重 drew during the early 1800s and was one of the major printmakers of this period. His series, The Fifty-Three Stations of the Tōkaidō is our focus for Picture Study during this term as we prepare for our own visit to the floating world of Japan in only a few more weeks.

On the Tōkaidō Highway near Hakone in 2005

The Tōkaidō Highway, linking the shōgun's capital of Edo, to the imperial capital Kyōto, was the main artery of old Japan, and formed part of a system inaugurated by the shōgun of Japan, Tokugawa Iyeyasu, in 1603. From Nihon-Bashi, the great bridge over the Sumida River, just opposite the palace of the shōgun in Edo, roads radiated throughout the island of Honshū,and from this point all distances were measured.

Iyeyasu demanded an annual visit to Edo from all the daimyo; and twice a year these territorial lords travelled the roads, stopping at the posting houses along the way. Fifty three of these post stations at various points along the highway provided stables, food, and lodging for the daimyos and their entourages as they travelled its 514 kilometre length.

In 1832, the printmaker Hiroshige travelled the length of the Tōkaidō from Edo to Kyoto, creating numerous sketches of his adventures along the way. He used these sketches to produce a series of fifty five prints - one for each post station, plus one each for the start and end points of the route. The prints are Hiroshige's best known works and are amongst the most popular of all ukiyo-e prints. They portray the adventures that Hiroshige experienced during his journey, as well as the day to day activities of the people he encountered along the way. Together they form an ideal medium for a study of old Japan.

So which to choose? The beginning and end points are obvious, as as Hakone, the posting house and check point we visited back in 2005.

Hakone Sekisho -the Menbansho of the Hakone checkpoint where Sekisho officials from the Odawara Domain inspected male travelers making their way along the highway.

After some consideration we selected the other three prints to make up our term's picture study on their subject matter alone.

1 Edition 1 Nihonbashi

11 Hakone

14 Hara

36 Goyu

37 Akasaka

55 Kyoto - Sanjo Ohashi at Keishi

Exquite, aren't they? To think they're carved out of wood first! You can see the prints in this video:

There's more on Hiroshige here:



Learn more about the process here:



I could talk more about each beautiful print - that, after all, is the purpose of Picture Study Charlotte Mason style, but if I did that before you'd studied the picture then I'd really be getting in the way between you and it. The time for discussions like that is after looking at and really seeing the piece of art - not before.

If you look in on us during this subject, Jemimah and I will be discussing what is happening in the picture, the colours and techniques used, whether we like it and why. We will be looking at clothing, events and locations. We will be learning about Old Edo. Mostly, though, we'll just be looking at the work of an exceptional artist and appreciating the beauty he has wrought from God's creation.

Just before he died Hiroshige wrote this poem.

I leave my brush in the East
And set forth on my journey.
I shall see the famous places in the Western Land.

Andō Hiroshige 1858

With apologies I write,

I leave my worries in the West
And set forth on my journey.
I shall see the famous places in the Eastern Land.

I shall try not to bore you to tears with preparations for our journey to Japan in May. Are you interested in hearing more about our Japanese studies or is this enough, already? Do please tell me. I'll cope with the criticism.

I do get so overexcited sometimes. Such a kid.