We Live Where We Are

One Hundred Posts (in Solitude)

Here it is, our one hundredth post! Seems kind of pitiable, actually, only one hundred posts in two years, but then again there have been vast stretches of time in which Juli and I have lain catatonic in our cryogenic sleep chambers, with little or nothing to report and lacking the mental wherewithal to report it. Our date for leaving Japan is drawing nigh, so hopefully you've notice that we've rubbed the sleepers from our eyes, stretched our atrophied writing digits, and tried to sum up our daily mundanities with a more pulsar-like regularity.

This weekend was Aoba matsuri (festival), a celebration of Sendai's Aoba-ward, which happens to be the part of town in which we live. Aoba matsuri commemorates the construction of the Toshu-gu shrine, which was completed in 1654. Large floats, called yamaboko are wheeled down Jozenji street, and troupes of dancers perform suzume odori, a traditional jig supposedly improvised by drunken stone-masons upon the completion of Sendai castle, which imitates the fluttering motions of tree swallows (can't make that up). The dance is accompanied by tin whistles, banged pots, and taiko drums playing a distinctive, repetitive refrain.

Juli went up to Kogota Friday night to visit Dan and Andy, and got a crash course in parenting courtesy of Kai, their three month old baby. Apparently, Juli says, the best way to quiet a crying tot is to hold a mirror above his face, rub his tummy, and tell him how handsome he is. Would work for me too, I guess.

The highlight of the weekend was definitely dinner on Saturday night. A month ago, our friends Kyo and Jen told us about this Japanese woman who runs a restaurant out of her apartment. Calling it a restaurant is a bit inaccurate though, as it's only open on weekends and can seat a maximum of five people. The experience is more like going to someone's home, having them fix you an amazing dinner, and then paying them for it. And it was amazing. The woman, whose name I can't recall at the moment, takes regular trips to Italy, where she takes cooking clases. To supplement her income, she makes home-cooked meals for anyone willing to make a reservation. We had a delicious six-course dinner while her tiny dog Gu-chan napped on the nearby couch.

Sunday was a bit lazy. We went into town to watch part of the parade, had lunch with our friend Makiyo, and then I went home to photoshop some images and play copious amounts of online Mario Kart.

Next weekend we're going hiking up to Yamadera, a famous mountain-side temple complex, with some of my school's English teachers.