The Arrival

Waiting...

One rainy Friday evening in March, we made our way to Tokyo.  Karl and I had packed our bags the night before.  Karl would meet me at the station after work and off we would go. 

We were excited. 

The cold rain couldn’t even dampen our spirits-we were heading to Tokyo to meet Karl’s family.  They had landed at Narita airport and were on a bus heading towards our hotel in Shinjuku.  

Japanese doll display in the hotel lobby.

We were on vacation!

They arrived, with all the signs of 12-13 hour plane ride.  Despite their exhaustion, we managed to find a little udon shop at which we ate dinner. 

After dinner it was straight back to the hotel and bed.  The following day, we would show them Tokyo. 

Boeuf Bourguignon

A few years ago there was that really popular movie out about Julia Child.  I loved the movie.  Read the book.  It was ok. Read Julia's Memior.  LOVED it.  In fact, I have had a minor obsession with watching her video's on youtube over the past year.



This one has been my most recent obsession.  Yesterday, I took the plunge and made it.

By the end of dinner I was licking my plate.  Face-in-bowl-licking.  Extremely dignified.  As always.

It was really that good.  And so easy to make. 

I am thinking fish next...any ideas where I might find swordfish? 

Tea and Books

There are three terms in the Japanese school year.  The first term begins in April and goes until the July, the second from September to December, and the third from January to March.  We have just finished the school year.

There are two week breaks between the second and third and third and first terms and a six(ish) week break between the second and third.   We are in the break between school years right now.  This break could not have come at a better time.

Last week we had an incredible trip across Japan with visiting family.  Before that I had a terrible cold.  Before that I was doing on online class in addition to work, before that we were in India.  It's been a whirlwind the past few months.

And now...I can breathe.

I am drinking lots of tea (this amazing German fruit tea-so good) and reading lots of books.  Things I feel are good for the soul. 

I also hope to finish writing about India and move onto writing about other adventures.  Photo editing and adventure writing-here I come!

Here is a delicious picture for fun-a salmon salad that Karl made for me a few weeks ago.  (Am I a lucky lady or what!?)

I'm Still Here

Well. 

Here we are.  So much for the “get the India experience on the blog by the end of January” goal. 

So much for the end of February….and March.

But here I am.

I am one of those people that is constantly setting goals for myself.  You should see my planner notebook…it gets ridiculous.  (Am I the only person that writes down something I have already completed just to simply have the satisfaction of crossing something off immediately?...I didn’t think so. )

So the goal about blogging about my experience in India in a timely fashion did not happen.  Life happened.  Other things got in the way.  Like online classes, horrible colds, and trips. 

But here I am.

So…where was I?

Oh yes.  Chevuru…

The memories of working in Chevuru have all to quickly begun to amalgamate into a lump of nostalgia.  The smiles of the children resonate in my memory.  I have forgotten how weary my body felt from the work and shock of travel. 

When we arrived in Chevuru to the tears and smiles of the people, I had no idea what to expect.  I knew we were there to work.  And work we did.

Our work fell into two categories:

1)    Helping to build physical homes for people.  This meant you were doing one of the following: mixing cement, pouring cement, or passing cement (or sometimes bricks).   That was it.  Pure grunt work, baby.  It was great.  

2)    The second type of work found us in the village whenever we were not sweating profusely and covered with cement dust…usually in the form of small children.  We played with them.  Talked with them.  Visited their homes and families.  Took photos.  Smiled.  Laughed.  Loved.

The four of us volunteers spread ourselves as thinly as possible throughout the village, attempting in vain to oblige every invitation for chai.  The evenings were crowded by smiling faces with a unquenchable thirst for our company.  One such evening we were invited to teach an English lesson in a small building next to the protestant church.

The village children crammed into the one room school house lit by a single long fluorescent light affixed to a wall. The stark blue light reached as far as it could, but still left the far corners of the room unlit.  Nobody cared.  Their bright eyes shone through the dimly lit room, eagerly awaiting entertainment.

We played some games.  The children soaked them up like sponges. 

When we finished, we each took turns speaking to the children, encouraging them to study hard in school.  Although their English level is relatively good, Ravi translated into their native Telugu.  It was heartening to see how eagerly they listened to our messages. 

And though we were exhausted every evening we left the village, we were always excited to return the next day.  

One Year Passed

March 11, 2012

One year passed. 

The bassoonist swayed lyrically to and fro as his part soared from his instrument.  The texture he created deftly joined the other timbres of the orchestra, creating a most intricate musical lace.  Each individual voice perfectly matched and blended.  

The orchestra breathed together.  They created an aural ecstasy that swelled through the air in waves of crescendos and decrescendos.  But despite the perfection and bliss of the music itself, I was particularly moved by the perfect silences. 

The second movement of Dvorak’s New World Symphony is one of the most sublime pieces of music ever written.  Emotions course through piece to the climax, not in a tremendous swell of the entire orchestra as in the final movement of the symphony, but rather in gentle, tender silences amidst a quartet of strings.

As I sat in the auditorium, bathing in the aural bliss of the Prague Philharmonic last Saturday, I could not help but let my mind wander back…back to a year ago this very weekend.

A year ago, this weekend found Karl and I cuddled up in our apartment permanently attached to the internet talking to family and friends.  Desperately reading the news.  The massive earthquake and subsequent tsunami and nuclear disaster had just occurred.   

As I listened to the orchestra, I reflected on the past year.  How quickly time has passed.  Mozart, Beethoven, and Dvorak accompanied my thoughts…creating a kind of tangibility to my feelings.  The delights of Beethoven’s Pastoral symphony reminded me of the beauty of the Japanese spring.  That despite the tragedies of those events, Japan still sprung into a stunningly beautiful season-full of blossoms. 

The people of Japan have remained strong and hopeful.  One year passed finds the disaster areas well on their way to recovery.  And still, we remember those lost and those who lost...homes, loved ones, lives. 

In the perfect silence, we remember, reflect, rebuild.

Tuesday December 27th, 2011

So you know that feeling…the one of being somewhere you have never been before.  Somewhere that should be completely unfamiliar.  Somewhere that should challenge your regular way of life. 

The scenery, weather, culture and language are all new.

And yet…you feel right at home.

This is what Chevuru village felt like.  From the moment we first stepped out of the car on the first day, I had a feeling that I was exactly where I needed to be.

Our small group of four volunteers fell into a loose routine:

The day began with breakfast at our hotel in Gudivada.  Traditional Indian breakfast (or peanut butter bread and granola bars for those with stomachs refusing to cooperate with curry) was delicious.  This was my favorite breakfast:

After breakfast, we embarked on our half hour drive to Chevuru.  This drive was one of my favorite parts of the day.  Gawking out the window at the unfamiliar, asking Ravi question after question, listening to the same CD of current Bollywood hits…it never got old. (Find out more about these two movies: Bodyguard and Business Man.)

When we arrived in Chevuru, the children immediately sensed our presence and hunted us down.  Many of the children were fortunately on Christmas vacation from school.  

After arriving, we were treated to a cup of chai made from the milk of a water buffalo.  Mmmm.  I miss that chai. 

And then, the work would begin:

Building walls, mixing cement, passing concrete, passing bricks, returning concrete trays.  Back and forth.  Back and forth. Much more on this later.

Then one of the best times of the day: lunch time.

After lunch, we would either work more, play with the children or visit the homes of villagers.  All of these tasks-we were repeatedly assured by Ravi-were equally important. 

Visiting the homes of villagers was impossible to avoid.  This is because the children would drag you there whether you wanted to go or not.  The opportunity to serve and give hospitality to people who will accept it gratefully is not something these people get to do very often.

As volunteers who traveled to Chevuru to help and give to those in need, learning to accept the hospitality without guilt was our own personal challenge.  How could we accept these gifts knowing full well that those giving have next to nothing?  

We had countless discussions among us four volunteers regarding this matter.  Ravi helped us by giving us the view of the people: joy at being able to give a stranger hospitality that would not be met with scorn.

For myself, it was an incredible feeling that doing something as simple as accepting a delicious cup of tea could be so meaningful to someone.

Sometimes the smallest gestures can truly carry the most meaning.

This gracious woman took us to her home and offered us coconut water. 

Sunday December 25th, 2011 (Christmas Day in India)

Christmas lights and a hibiscus flower for decor.

Christmas morning found us making our way back to the airport. 

Santa had not found his way to our hotel room.  Oh well.

While waiting for our flight, we soothed our pangs of hunger with some Indian style Subway.  I had the masala paneer sub, Karl the tandoori chicken.  They were both delicious.

The flight was a quick two hours to Hyderabad followed by thirty minutes waiting on the plane while some passengers got off and others got on.   Our destination of Vijayawada was only another half hour of flying. 

We landed in Vijayawada and stepped off of the plane into the warmest Christmas I have ever experienced.  A bus took us from the plane to the baggage claim area: a room with a guy tossing in luggage from the flight and people chaotically searching for their belongings.  We successfully retrieved our suitcase and walked outside.

Waiting for us just past the door was a man named Ravi Kumar.

Ravi works for a non-profit human rights group called the Association of Relief Volunteers, or ARV.  ARV coordinates with the organization Go Longitude-a website that organizes volunteers and fundraising events for ARV as well as a for a program called Educate Ghana.  (Please click on this link to find out how you can get involved!)

“Merry Christmas!  Thank you so much for giving your precious time to be here!”

Every Christmas, Ravi likely says these words to the new group of volunteers.  Over the past several years he has worked with more than 400 volunteers.  The vast majority of these volunteers are people on the JET program, teaching English in Japan.  There is good reason for this:

After the catastrophic Boxing Day tsunami of 2004, Ravi was helping with the relief effort.  This is when he met another volunteer who happened to be a teacher on the JET program.  They formed a connection, which has turned into three annual volunteer trips to India.  These three annual trips correspond with three breaks in the Japanese school years, ideal for JET teachers.

In fact, that is how Karl and I first heard about the trips.  Two of our good friends had gone previous years and were strongly encouraging us to participate.  So we did.

As we drove away from the airport, (I was SO happy to be done flying) Ravi explained that we were on our way to one of the homes of an ARV employee.  We would meet the other two volunteers there and have our Christmas dinner before driving another hour to our hotel.

The first of many cups of chai.  So delicious!

Coconut filled sweets

Can't remember what these were called, but they were so delicious!

Karl is excited to be eating.

Christmas dinner!

The family who graciously provided Christmas dinner for us.

Ready to get to our hotel after a couple days of travel.

And finally…we could rest.  The next day would be our first in the village.

Saturday December 24th, 2011 (Chirstmas Eve in China)

knock knock knock

“That must be our breakfast.”

I opened the door.  A petite Chinese woman handed me a bag, nodding her head politely before continuing with her deliveries.

I spread out our Christmas Eve Breakfast, describing the contents to Karl.

“Two juice box drinks…looks like milk.  And….ten slices of white bread.”

Mmm.

No complaining for the low, low price of free.  Fortunately, I had thought to bring along a jar of peanut butter.  

We forgot a butter knife, but fortunately the pen in the room worked.

As we feasted upon our bread, peanut butter and what turned out to be yogurt drinks, we lazily flipped through the TV channels.  Sleazy hotel rooms in Guangzhou have a decidedly un-Christmasy ambience.  So when we came upon a PBS Christmas concert special with Andrea Boccelli (in English!) we sat back and soaked in the Christmas cheer.  There was even a number featuring the Muppets.

After a while we decided to make some of the provided tea to wash down the peanut butter bread.  As I was handing a cup to Karl, I laughed.  We would not be drinking any tea.  There was lipstick on the cup.  Sure, we could have wiped them off and ignored it…but no.  We didn’t want tea that badly.

After the Christmas concert ended, we decided to go explore Guangzhou.  Since we didn’t have a single Chinese yuan on us, we just took a walk.  No delicious Chinese lunch for us.  

By far the most interesting thing we found was an open-air food market.  What a way to shop for groceries.  

Fresh produce, as far as the eye can see.

Who wants a snake in a bag!?

How about a turtle or an eel?

So many varieties of mushrooms.

Shopping for fish.

The aftermath of a chicken.

Geese, waiting to be sold.

Surrounded by a mountain range of cookware.

Digging through the mandarins.

Many varieties of rice.

After wandering around for a while, we made our way back to our hotel.  We were being driven back to the airport that afternoon. 

Once we arrived at the airport, we made it through security with enough time to spare to buy something to eat that was not bread and peanut butter.  Thank goodness.

Unfortunately our plane this time was significantly smaller and less comfortable than the previous flight.  Sigh.  We were surrounded by cranky, rude people and crying babies.

It was a long flight.

When we touched down in New Delhi, it was 9 pm, the same day.  We successfully made our way through security, retrieved our luggage and exchanged our money.  Now we just had to make it to our hotel.

If you are like me, then you are the type of person who does extensive reading about your destination before traveling.  For India in particular, I feel this was very wise.  I learned many things about traveling in India, including how to take a taxi.

India is full of people who try to take advantage of unsuspecting foreigners.   

As we cleared security and walked out to the airport exit, we were practically mobbed by taxi drivers wanting to secure our business. 

“Hello! Hello!  Where you want to go?  I take you there!  Come! My car! Hello! Hello! You come with me!”

We ignored their attempts to grab our luggage and made our way to the pre-paid taxi booth.  It’s the only way to get a taxi in India without haggling for a decent price.

Unfortunately, we did not see the official Police run booth (by far the most reasonable fare you will get) but instead went to the private company pre-paid booth. 

Pre-paid taxis are important for a few reasons:  1) You will get a fair price. 2) The driver will take you where you want to go.  There have been countless instances of travels being taken to the wrong hotel because, “Your hotel is sold-out. No rooms.  No worry-my brother runs a hotel.  Very nice.”  I was thankful that I had taken the time to study maps and locations of our hotels.

We made it safe and sound to our hotel (which was clean in terms of Indian hotels) set the alarm, showered and collapsed into bed after our very long and tiring Christmas Eve.

One more day of travel lay between us and our destination.

Thanksgiving with a Tiny Oven

First, watch this video.

Who doesn’t have a battle ax, chainsaw and bazooka in their kitchen!?

Ok, now watch this one.

Maybe you don’t care for the Muppets…I think they are hilaaaarious. 

Fortunately, I did not have to skewer my own turkey or deal with talking pumpkins this Thanksgiving.  Also, having been in Japan for over a year now, I was able to approach Thanksgiving preparations with much more confidence. 

If you want to prepare a turkey for Thanksgiving and you live in Japan, this is what I recommend:

Step 1: They do sell turkeys at Costco, but unless you have a big enough oven this option is out of the question.  We ordered a tiny 5 lb turkey from a website called “The Meat Guy.”  It’s great. Order about a week in advance.  The website even allows you to choose a specified day and time of delivery.  

The turkey-sitting in an 8x8in pan.

Step 2: Make sure your turkey is thawed out completely 12-24 hours before you want to roast it. 

Step 3: Brine it!  I followed this recipe (I also added an apple, as you can see) for brining our little turkey.  Brining makes a huge difference in the juiciness of the turkey.  We let ours brine for about 16 hours before roasting.

The turkey brining away.  We had to put it into a backing bag and then into our crisper-it was the only way it would fit into our fridge!

Step 4: Stuff and roast.

Stuffed with wild rice cranberry dressing. Yum!

A perfect fit for our tiny oven!

Step 5: Eat!

This is what the rest of our holiday meal looked like:

Kabocha squash with butter and brown sugar.

Mashed potatoes-because you have to!

A made-up wild rice, cranberry shittake stuffing.  Delish!

Sorry, my gravy is out of focus.  If you make gravy, for mercy's sake, make this one!

Pumpkin-one of the best desserts (or, let's be awesome, breakfasts too!) ever.

 Our holiday was delightful in every way.  Flowing with apple cider, champagne, and white wine.  Bountiful, delicious food.

So very much for which to be thankful!