Rebbetzin Man in Japan

What happened was....

2011-07-17T12:20:00.000+09:00

You can see it's been over a year. I did get a position back in New York City (which I did announce in a blog post and then was asked to take it down....long story).I also had to make the blog private. I now see that it doesn't really matter one way or the other to my current position if you read my posts on the washing machine or librarianship (or rebbetzins). It was more that I eagerly trumpeted my job offer before they did. So this is back online as a record of my travels, which ended a while back.

And that is not the only thing that has changed. I really am no longer the Rebbetzin Man of Japan, nor will that title ever be mine again. And the talk of writing a book of my experiences (isn't that what all bloggers do?) is something that will most likely not happen. Amusing anecdotes are one thing but real life precludes that.

I know people enjoyed these posts when they first appeared. You can look back and see if they still hold that appeal. Or you can now write down those recipes you always meant to try from here. But I really just wanted to be polite and say that's all folks and thanks for reading. Perhaps another blog (with a new title) will happen soon.

Learning through osmosis

2010-06-01T23:19:00.000+09:00

Some friends from NYC were just here for 11 days. Our first real visitors and house guests. As I've mentioned before, the rare opportunity to actually be a tourist in this country makes for a refreshing change. And despite a plethora of b'nai mitzvot and kashrut inspections, even the Rabbi was able to join us on a few outings.

But much of the time, the hubby was away or busy, so my friends and I did the culture and travel things ourselves. Now, I should point out that, aside from some intense but misguided prep before my arrival, I haven't actively studied Japanese since I've been here. I do look things up and will research kanji when I'm cataloging the synagogue library, but, as the Rabbi likes to show off his hours of study, I tend to leave most Japanese conversation to him. (Of course, he kept saying the same tired "Oh, he studied that sentence all week!" whenever I did speak Japanese, so I figured it was best just to shut up before rabbinical injury happened.)

But, as I said, he was busy and my friends were a little overwhelmed. And both of my friends had some food issues. So, I stepped up. Surprisingly well. I was able to read signs, discuss menu options, buy tickets, ask for directions and even make general comments, all in Japanese. Granted, it was probably more like stilted, pre-school Japanese, but I even surprised myself.

I assuming much of this I've picked up from my work with Japanese folks at my various consulting gigs, or through my usual research-like quest to know stuff. And I do have an affinity for languages, so I'm told. But I think it really was a sort of osmosis. You hang around long enough, and you need to communicate.

So now, when all my friends back home say "Have you learned Japanese yet?" I can say, "I absorbed 9 months of it!"

(And, as a brief aside, why is "YMCA" still played at bar mitzvahs? It actually came out a few months after my own bar mitzvah in 1978 and even then we were tired of it.)

Shavuot is my friend (but maybe not my wardrobe's)

2010-05-18T00:15:00.004+09:00

We all have our duties here in our far-off outpost of Judaism, and mine really seem to be about culinary delights. (Certainly not about librarianship or research or mikvah inspection!). Not only am I gearing up for another Japanese Wives cooking class (post-Shavuot, but still Shavuot themed), the Rabbi has asked me once again to prepare a "little something" to show the conversion class about Shavuot. But this time it's actually for the entire crowd showing up for Tikkun Leyl Shavu'ot after Ma'ariv. Oy, all that butter and cream!

Actually, I'm not too worried. Sadly, our congregation is not incredibly participatory during general Shabbats or the "other holidays." Rosh Hashana? Packed to the rafters. Simchat Torah? Barely enough for a minyan, let alone folks to dance with the torahs. I will admit a painful homesickness at that time especially after viewing my old synagogue's videos of Simchat Torah celebrations. And I have met and broken challah with some very interesting folks during many Shabbats, but they've been almost entirely visitors.

But we make do to celebrate with those we love and those who are here to share in it. You can't guilt anyone into attending, even if we are all Jewish.

But back to the menu. Our rabbinical kitchenette is milchig, so, of all holidays, Shavuot should be easy. I was planning on my famous buttermilk custard pies (with matzoh meal crust) that went over well on Thanksgiving. But the Rabbi had other plans. It seems he wanted that banana bread as it was so "easy" to make. Riiiiight. I was already picturing the few Shavuot guests being served a plate of crumbs while the Rabbi belched, but we did have an awful lot of bananas. I decided to dairy it up by making some home made cinnamon-cardamom ice cream. Easy! Kosher! Milchig!

Except in Japan. Of course.

It turns out much of the cream sold here is not pure dairy product. It includes a variety of additives, some of which may even fall into the fleischig category. Yummmm...porky cream sauce! Even some milk is not very pure. But I did know the brands of milk that were 100% "miruku", so a somewhat healthier ice cream we will have!

The Rabbi asked me to make enough for everyone, but I have a sneaking suspicion that we'll be eating dessert leftovers until we pop. And I'm already losing my runner "phyzeek."

The buttermilk tart will be shown to the cooking class, along with some cheese pancakes. We had a request for a cheesy-chicken, but there's no way I can explain that one to the Rabbi!

I think I better start running in place as I cook....

More mature, less filling

2010-05-06T22:07:00.000+09:00

The 45th birthday was a few days ago. As many of my friends know I'm a sucker for the day that is the Rebbetzin's birth. It's probably up there with Thanksgiving and the upcoming Specials Reunion Concert as the all-time bestest days on the calendar.

Turning this age is sort of odd. It's more like an "adult age." (I've noticed this puts me on a different demographic now on surveys). And, as many of friends turn (or have turned) 50, I can see that day approaching as well. But I can also reflect back:

10 years ago, I first joined the corporate world after so long in the artsy public trenches. I also started doing Pilates (after being hit by a car).

20 years ago, I moved into the apartment I've been in until I came to Japan. I was also finally, totally, irrevocably out of the closet.

30 years ago, I saw the Specials live. And I probably squealed as much as I did hearing that they were playing this summer.

40 years ago, well...there was cake!

And some congregants did provide a lovely cake to keep that little tradition going:

Was it as wild as it usually was every year? Nope. The Rabbi is a bit more subdued about these things, although even old yeshiva buchers can learn new tricks! I think indoctrination about the 46th celebration has to start soon.

The pretty one

2010-04-30T08:19:00.000+09:00

Back in Japan for a few days now. It appears jetlag has decided to come back on this side of the world as well. It looks like rain followed me around the world, too.

The scent of rain here in Tokyo has a totally different tang than that of NYC. Both are (I'm sure) filled with a variety of waste, but I perhaps I just missed that particular odor of wet NYC. Wet Tokyo doesn't quite do it for me.

As I mentioned in my previous post, I felt at peace wandering back to the homeland. But I felt pretty much the same ease coming back here, as well. As if both were just parts of life. I'm sure the Rabbi is snickering as he read this. (Although he's having enough agida on his own, if you check out his blog).

However, I do have to say this, and I'm sure I'll be taken to task for it, but here goes: Tokyo is just uglier than NYC. Maybe that's my own native NYC life talking, but now I've said it here. Tokyo is much more gray and sort of aimless. To me it has no "personality," but is a rather anonymous and somewhat bland collection of construction. Granted, it was all entirely rebuilt after the war, but there's something about Tokyo that reminds me of a bad novel about "a big city."

That's not to say that all of Japan is like that and I'm glad I'm reminded of that on occasion. Yesterday, the Rabbi and I went off to see a pottery show near Mt. Oyama in Kanagawa. Mountains, varying shades of green trees, red Japanese maples, and a few blossoms still stuck to trees. There were little towns and pilgrimages shops that seemed thoughtful in their layout and design. And a different scent to the rain.

I only had my cell phone so photos are few (such as the one above). But it was nice to remind ourselves there's more to life here than the usual grayness.

Back in the NY Groove (I always hated that song...)

2010-04-16T23:00:00.000+09:00

My first time setting my dainty 12EEE Rebbetzin feet on home soil in 8 months. I thought I'd be even more excited. Don't get me wrong, I've been bursting into giddy fits of laughter, but I'm attributing that to jetlag.

I thought it might feel different, but I'm not getting the sense of "Oh its so rude and dirty here" which is what I'm told many ex-pats feel when they return. Rather my surprise thoughts are:

1) "Man, the streets here are really wide!"
2) "Wow, look at the size of this omelette and it's so inexpensive!"

But what I actually feel...is a sense of peace. The enjoyment of just being back in town is wonderful. And tonight I'll be back in the home shul which should be a nice way to spend Shabbat, complete with a new pair of jeans and a dose of OTC Claritin. It's the simple things, really...

Seders and Sakura

2010-04-01T22:04:00.003+09:00

While we did not receive "Snowmageddon" here in Tokyo, it was cold, wet and gray for a long time. Tokyo itself is a very gray city and as the winter season progressed, I began to understand why everyone here waits for Hanami time when the sakura (or cherry blossoms) finally appear. Decorations and prep started over a month ago, and it was not unlike seeing all the Christmas and Halloween decorations that they go ape over. We're talking pink and flowery decor on everything, from tea bottles to desserts to cars to, yes, my prescription booklet.

Cute! Pink drugs!

And, because of cold, wet weather, this season started sort of late. The Japanese, very prompt at so many aspects of life, seemed a bit put off by the fact that the buds had not yet bloomed. And admittedly, so was I. You would see these trees, grasping at that moment to declare spring and renewal around the country, but they just could not blossom. It was maddening to see it almost there...almost...al...most....

Ah, there we go!

The camera doesn't quite capture the subtle shades and the delicate hues, which make the actual sky seem pink. Yes, Ueno Park was packed with eager Japanese all battling over turf so they could lunch (and later drink) under the trees. And, yes, there are many trees elsewhere, but it was interesting to go where the crowd goes and it was nice to see so MANY blossoms at once:

There definitely is that fresh feeling of renewal in the air, which is what I love so much about springtime.

And renewals also play into Pesach.

I'm sure everyone wonders how we manage eating here at Pesach time. Well, I'll let you in on a little secret: They have Manischewitz ship us a bunch of stuff. So, we're up to our pupiks in matzo and gefilte fish. I think it's enough to build a new sukkah on the roof next year.

Of course, outside the shul, eating can be a little daunting. For a healthy diet place like Japan, there's still flour and many other hametz things added into food. Thankfully, when I was wandering through the sakura, I happened upon a food fair. And it spoke the universal language of grilled things on sticks! No breading necessary!

Meanwhile, inside, I plan to get a little creative, but to be honest, we've had other holiday obligations and such, so I haven't really made any big pesach dishes aside from matzo brei.

I knew when I married a rabbi, that I had to give up a few things: home-made cheeseburgers, free saturday mornings, my sanity. But I also had to give up hosting my own seder. Obviously we now have to be part of the synagogue-wide seders. And while it is sometimes nice to be surrounded by 150 Jews all trying to talk quietly amongst themselves during the four questions, it does lack what I always associated with seder: family, friends, a renewed sharing of love, and envious cooking acheivements. I suppose it's a small price to pay, but it is those intimate moments I cherish.

Still, it was a huge crowd both seder nights, and the Rabbi managed to not get gefilte fish smeared on his suit, so maybe there's a blessing behind this after all!

Now, if you'll pardon me, I need to go make some flower shaped, pink matzo balls. It is spring after all!

Limping Legs and Unleavened Drumsticks

2010-03-25T21:20:00.005+09:00

It's been a while since I've posted, but I've been waiting for the tale of my gimpiness to reach a conclusion. It sort of has, or it has enough to reach a nice denouement, so I thought I best just catch everyone up.

My endeavors in running, while quite fruitful, have resulted in a rather annoying injury. At first it appeared to be an IT band issue. This wasn't too surprising, as I fit all the "likely causes" checklist:

Too quick an increase in distance (I went from panting after 50 feet in Nov to 5K in January to 8K in February.)
Too much running downhill (There's nowhere to go but down from our apartment!)
Too much running on uneven surfaces (These wee Tokyo streets aren't exactly flat.)
Too much excessive pressure on the knees from weight (ahem!)
Not enough rest time between runs (Minimum 4 days a week running)

It hurt, in professional terms, like a mofo, and I did all I was supposed to do: ice, rest, rolling a tennis ball, etc. Unfortunately, I had to go to work (more downhill walking and stair descending) and that just exacerbated it.

I was recommended a bodywork guy who was here from Hawaii. Absolutely amazing, He released my IT band and even helped my old injury prone ankles. Go find Demian and tell him I sent ya!

But now that those injuries were releasing, there was some other major underlying pain. Something feeling very inflamed and even worse. It was hard to take anti-inflammatories, as all those over the counter helpmates in the states are perscription only here. Sure, there's Tylenol, but it has a smaller dosage than Children's Tylenol back home. And I don't need to be popping 10 pills a day on my stomach!

The pain got worse. The IT band area seemed ok now but there was just so much more pain. I couldn't walk more than 2 minutes. All my hard-earned running body pluses were now turning back into doughy sedentary minuses. So off to the doctor I went. Or did I?

I was planning on heading to a clinic known for English speaking doctors, but they did not have an orthopedist the day I was free, so I hobbled across the street to the spanking new Japanese Red Cross. I have National Health Care, so I hoped it wouldn't be too pricey. The Japanese National Healthcare System has some nice aspects, but even here it's all about the waiting. Appointments are not the norm. You just have to sit and be patient.

On the plus side, they give you a nifty device that buzzes and texts you when you're needed in a certain area, so you can wander around the building and have a coffee.

Look, it's telling me that....that....well, I see my number flashing somewhere, so I'll just bring this over.

On the hard, negative side, it consisted of 4 hours of waiting for two 5 minute sessions with a doctor and an x-ray in between.And the doctor didn't even want me to remove me pants to inspect my leg, nor were the x-ray techs too excited about it. This is the country where people bathe together, read porn openly on the subway and have little old ladies hanging out in men's bathrooms while we all pee (ostensibly to clean up) and yet you make the inhale "I don't think so" sound when it comes time to examining an injury without pants?

I was told I had no broken bones, and was prescribed a 1% anti-inflammatory cream. I think my anger and frustration were the only thing that got me mobile back home, as by then I really couldn't walk at all. Oh, and while it was inexpensive, there was an added 4500Yen for coming in without an "introductory letter."

Thankfully, some congregants scored me aleve and ibuprofen from the States, which helped some, but the pain began to increase. I really was worried I tore something. I went back to the English speaking clinic only to be told the orthopedist was only in 2 afternoons a week and this was not one of them. They recommended an orthopedic clinic where they were certain English was spoken. (I had believed that perhaps the lack of understanding between doctor and patient might have been an issue in the previous milieu).

So, after a 30 minute limp to get a few hundred meters, I found the place. The receptionist said that they had an English speaking doctor and I'd have to wait. Only five minutes later, I get to meet him. He really doesn't speak English. He does, however, take my pants off and touches exactly where it hurts, so I'm assuming it might be good. He then places a cooling patch on the back of my knee and says, "OK, Finished" and sends me away. I ask about an MRI. He nods and says "OK. Finished." I asked what he thinks it might be. He says...well, you get the idea.

I am sooooo not happy. People at work and the synagogue are concerned. They offer some specialists, but they all say I'd need an MRI before any of them saw me. But I have this cream and patch! Now, can you carry me to the bus so I can get to work? My leg buckles whenever I stand up.

Last week, I finally got to the English speaking clinic when the orthopedist was there. And they had a translator on hand, too. A real exam, an MRI, a cortisone shot in the knee and honest-to-g*d anti-inflammatories. Huzzah! There was some concern that the MRI and my tattoos wouldn't mix, but I guess my artists didn't use metal ink, so no pain (except from the vibrations on the bum leg).

Today I got my MRI results back. Nothing torn or broken and the patella and ligaments are all fine. But the bone is inflamed, along with some of the muscles, even after a week of major anti-inflammatories. A few more weeks respite and drugs and then hopefully things will be good. But the doctor commented that this was something that didn't just happen overnight. And of course, the 4 weeks trying to get to see him didn't help the situation.

All this from running. Was my thinner waist and better endurance worth it? Actually, yes. I hope to be able to run again soon. The Rabbi would rather it didn't happen. We'll see what he says after a week of carby matzo balls!

And speaking of which, let's end on a happy food filled note. I had our third Japanese Wives Cooking Class this past weekend. A sort of pre-Pesach warm-up. I showed the ladies a choroset recipe and then one of my own faves (made up myself!), Chicken with Matzo "Stuffing". It's a nifty technique that, as the matzo cooks with the bird, it gets both crispy and mushy, sort of like Jewish Yorkshire pudding.

Try it, you'll plotz! The Rabbi can only manage 4 helpings a night of this.

Rebbetzin Dan's Chicken with "Matzo Stuffing"

Chicken, cut into pieces (skin on)
Olive oil
Onions, sliced thin
Lemons, sliced thin
Fresh thyme
Salt & pepper
Matzo

Marinate chicken in next 4 ingredients in fridge for at least an hour (I prefer several hours), turning on occasion
Preheat oven to 350F (or 180C)
Place matzo in roasting pan in two layers, drizzling olive oil on all sides (and in between layers)
Sprinkle some extra sliced onions on matzo
Place chicken pieces in pan and then pour over marinade
Add a few more lemon slices
Salt and pepper to taste
Add a few thyme sprigs

Bake for one hour or until the skin is crispy and the juices run clear
Remove chicken from pan. Scrape up matzo into a bowl. It will be both crispy and mushy.

Mangia!

Special guest star...

2010-03-09T15:25:00.003+09:00

This week, I'm guest-blogging on my friend Aimee's website, Tokyo Writer. She asked me to write something about Tokyo Life, and I was happy to share.

It's a story I've been sharing here that seems to cause some consternation among fellow ex-pats. To me, if Tokyo isn't perfect, that's a good thing. After all, one must be a realist about life.

Hope you like it as much as Aimee did. Click to read "Everything is Not Always Perfect"

Rebbetzin, cook thyself!

2010-02-14T15:52:00.003+09:00

On the job front, a few interesting prospects have popped up. I'm giving a few presentations at an upcoming session of the Asian Productivity Organization. (Market research and agribusiness, it's like old home week for me!) A possibility for more are in the offering, so it's a good feeling.

But of course, it can't be all research and knowledge management for the Rebbetzin. Oh no. Not only is there another cooking class for the Japanese Jewish wives approaching, I was also just asked to provide a "little something" for the Rabbi's conversion class. Is there no escape from the kitchen? Evidently not.

The Rabbi wanted his class to experience Havdalah, something they probably wouldn't see much of otherwise. And it was a chance to show of the lovely Havdalah Set we got for our wedding. How could I refuse?

Well, I could refuse because I was up to my ears in research and my other p/t work. AND making "a little something" of "traditional Jewish food" (a challenge in Japan already) that would sit through Shabbos (No oven use Fri night through Sat.) was a challenge. Oh, and did I mention there were 15 people invited? What, does the Rabbi think, a good kosher nosh grows on trees?

To be fair, he offered to cook instead, but visions of 15 bowls of milk, instant coffee and crumbled cookies flashed through my mind. Not a way to win their hearts. Or their stomachs.

So, I said I'd take care of it. Every day he asked what I was making, to not go overboard, to be frugal, but still make something nice and traditional that was good. You know, I really don't get to use my rolling pin very often (what with pie crust issues), but it was looking pretty good to smack upside the yeshiva bocher's noggin.

But naturally, the true Rebbetzin grace and decorum shown through and I pulled a nice hat trick:

One the left is matzo apple kugel (like strudel but...not). On the right is tsimmes kugel. Japanese sweet potatoes are a bit different but it came out nice. A good way to show off tsimmes while making it into easy to eat squares.

Both of these were mega-sweet items, so I thought I'd tamper that down with some smoked salmon and cream cheese canapes. I will say this is the first time I've eaten cream cheese since arriving in Japan (and yes, it was Philadelphia brand). It took all my willpower not to scarf these babies down before the crowd arrived. Even running 8K this morning did little to allay the effects of nibbling on these.

All the food went fast (Japanese people can EAT!) and it was a very lovely Havdalah all around.

But now it's back to the real job stuff before these "duties" take over once again. And coming up with a Purim costume! Oy!

More on marriage...my time in the media

2010-02-11T10:51:00.005+09:00

I was interviewed by a friend in NYC about our marriage situation, for his radio show (in honor of the upcoming UnMarriage Until Gay Marriage event). If you're all still wondering why things get me so riled even after The Rabbi and I got married, give a listen here:

The Inspiration Humanist Radio Hour Archives (It's the Marriage Equality Show)
There are other interviews, too. And groovy music.

In many ways, things seem to be moving forward on marriage equality, but of course being in the actual field of battle, it doesn't seem fast enough. My time as Japan-based Rebbetzin Man may be coming to an end in a few months, while the Rabbi will stay on. Financial, Visa and Job situations mean I need to probably get myself back to a real job in the States and hope that some day, some country we choose to live in will recognize our LEGAL MARRIAGE as a valid cause for spousal sponsorship.

I haven't talked much about our situation here, marriage-wise. The congregation and most other folks have been very welcoming and it is a non-issue. There's been no extraordinarily hostile moments (So far, nothing like this kind of story.) But that doesn't mean we haven't gotten, dare I say, crap from other supposedly observant parties. The amount of bile from some folks is pretty harsh. It adds a little extra piece of heartburn into the already crazy mix. And why does it matter to them? What insane idea of damage could come from a rather boring clergy couple?

In many ways, being gay provides the convenient target to hate. It's still considered acceptable to many to discriminate against and claim "pity" to "the poor damaged sick" folks. These bile spewers know that showing hate to other topics (like race) is no longer considered acceptable by the masses, but gayness? Sure!

Yes, I know a lot of people don't believe in this hate. So, it's time to actually act, because waiting "until a better time" isn't an option. Not for me. Not for the Rabbi. But maybe for the spewers.

Cooking class....lots of class!

2010-01-20T22:28:00.004+09:00

It was quite the crowd...13 Japanese wives, one plus-sized rebbetzin and the staff who were making snacks for the Sunday School, all in a kosher kitchen...along with a nosy Rabbi and various husbands "just dropping in." I think it was my Rebbetzin duty to possibly offer some Jewish life advice along with cooking instructions

"No, no, really squeeze that cabbage dry! Use aggression! Release the anger, like the time you got all dressed up for the evening and then he took you to Ben's Deli...and not even the nice one in Bayside!"

A few days before we actually tracked down Kosher egg noodles in a regular supermarket. So the cabbage-noodle kugel was pretty close to authentic (albeit with sesame seeds instead of poppy). I think the ladies were a bit taken aback by the proportions, as I had them double the recipe and that was a whole lotta cabbage and garlic and noodles. In my mind, the result could have used more salt, but it still went down easy!

This is just half the result.

The honey cake, if I may say, came out AWESOME! Baking appears to cause apprehension among many Japanese, not the least of which is from having tiny (or non-existent) ovens over here. But, the beauty of this recipe is that it can be made into mini loaves or even muffins and cooked in a toaster oven.

A few stragglers came in and finished up this baby. I couldn't quite teach the final lesson of "I work, I slave over a hot stove and this, THIS is how I'm thanked? Use a fork, at least!" Some things don't translate.

Still, it appears everyone enjoyed themselves. Requests were taken for future classes, and they came flying in:

Bagels (oy!)

Gefilte Fish (Double Oy!)

Sephardic food (very doable)

Something with meat (Oh, I'm there!)

As the next class is right before Purim, I'm thinking hamentashen (natch) and perhaps a chicken and prune dish. And then comes Pesach with my famous matzah-stuffed chicken!

More photos can be found at the synagogue's flickr page.

It finally feels like a true Rebbetzin duty to impart these practical, yet necessary truths of Judaica:

"baking powder....baking soda...baking POWDER...baking SODA..."

Culinary experiments for the gals

2010-01-07T22:14:00.002+09:00

The life of a Rebbetzin, while always glamorous, is also filled with downtime. Opportunity must be made to knock, because it rarely gets to the door otherwise. Things must be done to hold back the ominous "Curse of the Trailing Spouse" (according to some members of the Sisterhood, if you start sitting around making handicrafts, you know you've lost the battle.)

I've made a few choices to steer myself away from the knitted samurai toilet cozies and the lacquered tzedakah-sake box combos. I've started running for one. And as soon as I can afford a new stick, I'm looking into the street hockey league I found out about.

But it's not all about being svelte enough to maintain my low cut Shavuos numbers. I've been sorting out the Shul's library. (Bad humor books in English, Hebrew, and Japanese!) And now I've been asked to step up to a new and truly honored position.

Our Jewish Japanese Wives Club used to have regular cooking classes of Jewish favorites. Yes, yes, I can hear you now: Why would we ruin healthy light eating by frying it in oil and adding sour cream? Because we're Jewish and if we don't get heartburn on a regular basis, we go into shock. Even the converts.

And now, due to various folks sampling my wares, I've been asked to teach the class. Next Sunday will be the first session and quite a turn-out is expected. The requirements are that it has to be translatable to available Japanese ingredients and the class will be held in our Kashered Industrial Shul Kitchen, not my rather snug Rebbetzin kitchenette, so we have to follow the proper hard-to-find ingredients list.

The Rabbi is pretty hardcore about the kashrut aspects, but thankfully he makes a great taster, so he gets to eat the prep meals.

The first class will involve a kugel and a honey cake. Both are pretty easy, expandable, and like any good Jewish meal, can easily be frozen and taken out when "company comes over." (Because nothing says friendship like partially freezer burnt baked goods...just ask my bubbe!)

I'm actually not a huge fan of traditional luchsen kugel with the cottage cheese and raisins, so I decided my cabbage-noodle kugel would be good. I went through ingredients and it all seemed to check:

cabbage: check
garlic: check
oil: check
eggs: check
salt & pepper: check
broth: maybe an issue, but some dashi in water does the trick
poppy seeds: not as such, but toasted sesame seeds would work
egg noodles: ok, now we have a problem.

It seems Japan, the biggest Noodle Town there is, doesn't really have something similar. They could probably be found at the incredibly overpriced foreign supermarket, but that doesn't fit criteria of "easily available."
Ramen is too thin. Somen, ditto. Soba was suggested, but I think the flavor would overpower the rest of the dish. Kishimen is close to regular linguine, but not really egg noodle.

I tried two versions at once, Soba and Kishimen. (More work for the Rabbi, but he needs to get away from that Mishnah once in a while):

The results?

The soba version looks pretty, but as I had predicted, the buckwheat taste was too overpowering. And it got somewhat mushy.

The kishimen had a nice kugel finish. It absorbed all the good oily, garlicky stuff and kept it's shape as well.

I thought we were all ready, but now the Rabbi (after eating much of both kugels) points out that neither of these noodles is kashrut, so the big kitchen may be off limits to them. As a Rebbetzin, I feel I have three options of response to this last minute decree:

1) Smack the Rabbi upside the head with the Le Crueset holding the leftovers

2) Run off in tears and start learning how to decoupage the light fixtures

3) Find yet another substitute

I know I'll be following the third option and holding the first option for some future Holiday Season. But if I ever start doing the second one, please come and put me out of my misery.

2010, let us be happy

2010-01-01T18:06:00.002+09:00

The new year is upon us, a bit sooner in Japan than back home. According to the folks I've met here, New Year's and Christmas are somewhat reversed from the Western style in traditions. Christmas is for partying and New Year's is for family. (Of course, I've heard Christmas here is also for KFC and Love Hotels, and any quick search online will find just that).

New Year's is also for going to the local shrines, so the Rabbi and I took a trip down the street to watch everyone line up so they start 2010 with an offering. Rather low-key.

So, it wasn't a big to-do, but I did make a special dinner for the two of us.
First up was boiled daikon in a miso-lemon sauce, some tandoori roasted vegetables and sea bass cooked in caramel sauce:

And for dessert, we had the traditional mochi and red beans, but rounded that out with a banana pudding made with coconut biscuits:

I got the general recipe for the pudding from my dear old friend Susan. I say "dear old friend" as Susan is someone I went to college with and then maybe saw a handful of times, but then not again for almost 20 years. Then facebook came upon us. And now I'm back in touch with so many folks as well as keeping in touch with my peeps in NYC. Ironically, Susan has been living in Holland for the past several years, but I didn't find that out until I left my job at the Dutch company. So many missed opportunities. But also now new ones to be in touch and share our lives.

In many ways 2009 had some of the best and worst moments of my life. It will definitely be one I remember. (1997? M'eh, not so much.) 2010 now offers a whole new slate of the unknown for me. But I'm glad so many of my friends have reappeared in my life, whether to offer recipes or share their own adventures. 2009 was about giving up a lot of my life, but I should also try to remember that I gained quite a bit, too.

May this next year be all it should be for all of us. The Rebbetzin has spoken!

To Kyoto and Back

2009-12-28T21:53:00.000+09:00

The Rabbi and I just returned from 6 days in Kyoto. It was filled with many treks to various shrines, temples and antiquities, including a marvelous and exhausting hike up Mount Kurama. And of course, there were the celebrities:

In all seriousness, though, this is just what was needed. It was hard to define it at first, but I think this was the first time we actually just got to enjoy the sites of Japan, as tourists. Trying to settle in, as expats, as residents and as the clergy couple, takes a lot of responsibility and energy.

But of course, the most fruitful vacations can be fraught with danger. I didn't hurt myself on the mountain trek but I did resprain my ankle on the peaceful amble of Philosopher's Walk. We still managed several more hours of shrine and temple viewing. Damned if I was gonna let some bloated appendage ruin my vaca!

A view of the photos can be found on my Flickr page.

Well, salt my latkes!

2009-12-11T17:12:00.000+09:00

It's my first Chanukah as a married man and as a Japan resident. Who knew?

A Joyous and Happy Chanukah to all!

If this isn't marriage...

2009-12-05T23:44:00.001+09:00

A life of a rebbetzin, even a big male rebbetzin, can be one of sacrifice and hardship, but there are rewards. No, it's not the fancy chinchilla stole and the diamondique earrings shaped like hamentashen that match the suede snood, nor is it the silent but subtle winning of Shabbos potlucks with the Sisterhood, or the constant deference to my supposedly more learned Rabbi husband that make me a better person. What is the reward is sharing my life with my husband, that impossible learned schnook. For all the ups and downs, it's our commitment to each other that makes me take each day we have together, even a lousy one in Japan far away from my usual life, as something to be thankful for.

I didn't jump into marriage lightly (not even at my advanced age) but I did want to do it in both a legally and spiritually binding way. It was important to me and to the Rabbi. I expected some backlash from certain corners of the Jewish world but everyone has their own views of religion. And that religion should not be mixed up in the legal part of it. But sadly, it is.

I write this after the NYS Senate voted against same-sex marriage. New York State. My homeland. Possibly the most democratic coastal bias enclave in the US, even with the northern Republicans. I never expect much from the NYS legislature as they can't even balance a budget on time, nor can they even manage to vote on time. But come on! Is it so hard to take a stand? The fact that even some Democrats voted no, which somehow seemed safer than voting yes, reiterates that I belong to a political party of milquetoasts.

I know folks sympathize and I am told it will just take time, that progress has been made. But here's why it matters to me. The Rabbi in not a U.S. citizen, so when this opportunity came up to take a job in Japan, it meant that he was losing his U.S. visa and his ability to live in the States. But we're legally married, you say. Yes, well, our marriage isn't recognized by the US Federal Government. Even if we were married in a country where marriage is legal throughout that country (such as Canada or Belgium), the U.S would still deport the Rabbi without a visa. We're not a recognized couple.

But we wanted to be together, as many recently married couples do, and this opportunity was too good for the Rabbi to pass up, so Japan it is. Oh wait, Japan doesn't recognize same-sex marriages either. So I cannot come here as a dependent or spouse. The only way I could stay as a non-tourist (and actually have those special privileges like a phone and bank account) was to find full-time employment. In this economy.

I am incredibly lucky and very thankful to the person who offered me my initial job and a visa. Even if I later pursued other opportunities up my alley (and exited in a less than Rebbetzin-like way) this was the option we had to take. Again, everyone else I've met here didn't have to worry about this stuff BECAUSE THEY WERE MARRIED. And so are we, but my marriage license appears to be null and void.

I will add that the Japanese may be non-plussed at dealing with same-sex marriages but the excuses they give are at least funny and quaint. Having someone say, "But you have two different last names, you can't be married" is a refreshing break from "You're destroying the moral fabric of society with your monogamous commitment."

So here we are, but eventually we will be headed to the next adventure. It may be some years away, but what will we do if we still can't be recognized as a couple? The job worlds of corporate info guys as well as rabbis may not always be bustling with opportunities. It's not always going to be easy for us both to be employed. Will the Rabbi have to return to his homeland (which also doesn't recognize same-sex marriage)? Will my visa run out here before his and I'll be forced to return to the States where he cannot currently live?

I savor each day we have, even during arguments, because I have to always imagine that we may not have all the time in the world to share. And that's damn unfair.

I already know marriage can be full of hardships and compromise. It wasn't easy to make this jump into matrimony, into a new land, into being a rebbetzin. Let's not make it even harder by having us have to worry if we can even live together. Of all the places in the world, I would at least have expected my hometown to be somewhat more with it. If the "hep" state can't get their act together, what can we expect?

If you won't recognize my marriage, please do note that I'm still a registered voter and I probably won't be recognizing you guys in Albany (or D.C.) much longer.

Now, Japan....if you could just get past the name thing...

More crustiness - the Thanksgiving agenda

2009-11-28T17:42:00.005+09:00

So I have had my 1st Thanksgiving in Japan. And despite all the comments and questions I'm getting via e-mail and Facebook (what exactly does everyone think goes on here anyway?), it was a very traditional gathering. After all, Thanksgiving is an American (and yes, Canadian) holiday, so it's something everyone in North America celebrates with their own ethnic touches, but outside of that...it's really only gonna be ex-pats. And ex-pats we were, complete with a lovely turkey and lots of goodness.

Yes, I was feeling particularly homesick, missing cooking the big meal and seeing my peeps, many of whom I only really see on Thanksgiving. It's hard to really cut off one of your own traditions and try to make a new one, so I am very thankful to our hosts on Thursday and to the great company. (The hostess also had an avocado-green Kitchen-Aid vintage electric carving knife that was her grandmother's...I was coveting it in a very non-Rebbetizin way). I'm still reeling from the wave of homesickness, but this helped me along.

So, my contributions to the meal were desserts and one side dish. One of my very easy stock in trade desserts, and always a crowd-pleaser, is buttermilk-berry pie. And at this time of year, those berries are cranberries. I also make a pear-cranberry pie, but after the crust debacles in a previous post, I thought I should try to go with a crumble (which, if it turned into paste like previous ones, would still work as a covering).

But where to find cranberries? Buttermilk? Graham crackers? I was already "turning Japanese" for other ingredients, but I really wanted something I knew would work for a large gathering, not just another "gaijin whoops!" experiment.

It would mean a trip to the incredibly expensive supermarket near our home. The one I've only ever set foot in once: National Azabu. It's the kind of place where no products are Japanese (nor is anyone in the store). The only true Japanese thing is the price. But, cranberries would not be found elsewhere, so I managed to buy two small containers (I won't say how much) along with some graham cracker crusts and foil roasting pans (Most Japanese do not have ovens, so these things don't just appear).

Buttermilk was an issue. Actually, buttermilk's an issue in NY, too, but at least I can find it. But, as fate would have it, in the NY Times, there was a question from someone in Shanghai about finding buttermilk. And the answer?

1 tablespoon lemon juice in 1 cup of milk + 5 minutes standing = buttermilk. Who knew?

Now, once again, Japanese ingredients are still not exactly the same. Milk and butter's fat content seem much higher, so the buttermilk custard was almost closer to ricotta pie. Much gloppier and less shiny. However, each pie (one w/berries, one plain) came out looking pretty good:

The top crustiness is much smoother than the US version.

Next up was the pear-cranberry crumble. Asian pears do rock my world, even if they are bigger than my head. They have a very perfumey scent and are incredibly juicy. Almost too juicy, really. As Japanese brown sugar is much wetter than US, the fruit mix was pretty moist. Add to that the mirin I included for a little kick and, well, it was a very bubbly result. So much so that it leaked all over the cab going to dinner. But it still maintained it's crisp crust, so that was nice.

The crumble was made with the grist mill flour I bought at the specialty store and, lo and behold, it actually made a crumble, not a paste!

The final recipe was one of the Rabbi's favorites (and as I was making him go to a *shudder* American meal with a non-kosher meat item, I thought I should do something nice). So, I made a Sformato di Zucchini or zucchini pudding. Again, I was a little worried that Japanese parmajano cheese would add something odd, but it was ok. The irony of this dish is, in NYC, I often bought japanese winter melon or other types of squash to make this dish, which adds a lovely creamy texture. In Tokyo...I only found zucchini.And while the topping calls for breadcrumbs and more cheese (I've used matzoh meal during Pesach), breadcrumbs are another odd thing to shop for here. I didn't think it was worth buying them at the fancy place so...I used Saltines. If Martha Stewart were a real person, she'd probably slap me silly and then rearrange my kitchen.

Gee, you think I made enough?

Everything was met with general enjoyment and it all disappeared pretty fast. But the best part was sharing with a bunch of very wonderful people and giving thanks for a whole new set-up.

Now to digest.

You're a Professional What?

2009-11-18T23:19:00.000+09:00

[Another library oriented post, be warned]

Since just before I had my MSLS degree in hand, I've been a member of professional organizations: The Music Library Association, The International Association of Agricultural Information Specialists , the Association of Independent Information Professionals, even the NY Library Club. And now in Japan, I've been trying to get involved in some local associations, although few are in English.

But the one I've probably been most involved in through the years is SLA, the Special Libraries Association. I was even Chair-Elect of one of their Divisions before I was swept away to Tokyo. It's been rough putting in many years of hard work, only to have to dump it all to be a traveling spouse, but I'm still trying to stay involved.

I always liked SLA because it really was an organization for those of us in non-traditional library careers. It seemed very corporate minded, which I liked and it was an intense place to network and join in change. A place where, even now, as a Library & Information Consultant for an assortment of unrelated places, I know I can belong.

Recently, SLA has talked about alignment and shifting goals, which I think is a great thing. But the subject of name change came up, something that was tried a few years back and was met with not so great results. And now, it has happened once again. SLA wants to be known as The Association of Strategic Knowledge Professionals. Originally this was shortened to ASKPro, until too many "ASSPro" comments were made.
The goal of this name change was supposedly to broaden the scope of membership, so that "market researchers, IT folks, etc." could join us.

My assumption is that these folks have professional organizations that do pretty well already, so bringing them into our group would probably just dilute what little commonality we all have.

I've been called many titles in my career (including Vice President), but I usually end up using the "L" word a lot to describe myself. Granted, people outside the corporate world see me as someone who might be able to shelve books correctly and have story time (an assumption coming from folks even here in Japan), but my co-workers in financial institutions, NGOs and the like knew me as the guy with the answers; the guy who could bring all the info silos together into one smooth relational clearinghouse. The guy who could improve usability and streamline costs. The guy who could talk credit derivatives or, yes, shark waste. The guy you wanted on your team because he knew what to do and who to call when something had to be found, analyzed and shared. And even if my title was VP, they still introduced to me people as "our amazing librarian."

So, yes, despite my current title, I'm more than a "Librarian" but it's not a word I'm ashamed of. I'm not even sure what a "Strategic Knowledge Professional" is.

I would like to see more librarians like me out there working together and I want SLA to help by starting their alignment project. But this name and the way it has been trumpeted is not doing it for me.

And now the voting has begun.

I can comment endlessly about the pros and cons of agreeing to the change, although it's been said better here and here.

But, in full disclosure. I voted no. I'm all for improvement, but I don't think this name does that. And if that makes me a "backwards looking librarian type", then I think someone hasn't really been looking at our members.

On an unrelated note, the crust tasted better the second day, although the Rabbi said it still wasn't up to my usual.

Crustiness

2009-11-17T22:35:00.001+09:00

People seem to think I'm adapting well to my new town (at least in public) but I really do get bouts of homesickness. And with Thanksgiving coming up, it's hit hard. T-Day was my favorite of holidays, a time where I shared great moments with a plethora of friends and cooked my ass off. With one exception, I've hosted Thanksgiving at my East Village hovel for 20 years.

And now we're in Tokyo, land of odd non-religious holidays, but not Thanksgiving per se. I was getting mopey: Missing my friends, my kitty, my career and now...this, too. The Rabbi, being ever so supportive, claimed he was glad there no Thanksgiving because now he could study in peace, didn't have to socialize on this ridiculous American holiday, grumble, grumble etc. Ah, the joys of marrying foreigners. This statement also drives home the eerie and rather ridiculous point that the Rabbi and I have each married versions of our respective fathers. Of course, if I really am like his father I need to increase the size of my glasses about threefold and hike my pants up way higher, but I digress...

Happily, we've now been invited to a friend's house for Thanksgiving with about 20 people and even a turkey, just the way I like it. I've offered to make my special Sformato di Zucchini and, as the hostess says she's not a baker, I offered my pie making skills. My usual T-Day repertoire includes buttermilk-berry custard pie, pear-cranberry pie, and some sort of pumpkin concoction.

Except of course, my previous attempts at dessert baking here have resulted in yummy but ill-formed items. Basic Japanese ingredients such as flour, sugar, salt, etc. are ever slightly so different here. Sometimes too fine, sometimes too coarse, sometimes with extra fat in it, and the results often end up not quite right, which ain't no good in the exacting science of baking. My apple crumbles have been less crumbly and more shiny-crispy gloss. Banana breads never rise up enough and become banana-espresso fudge bars (which the Rabbi insists I make this way from now on no matter where we live).

But I really wanted to share some good pies. I have my No Fail Pie Crust recipe handed down from mom (although from all those links, it looks like a lot of moms knew about it back in the day) and a brand new rolling pin (from our wedding registry), so I have been experimenting.I was taken to a specialty store for some other types of Japanese flour ("whole wheat" and "grist milled", although still different from US kinds) and I even tried a new shortening.

The results?

It maintained a crust like consistency (unlike the crumbles) but overall, it was m'eh. A nice chew from the bit of "whole wheat" but not quite there in terms of true flakiness. There was also an overall salty taste (most likely hidden in the shortening). The Rabbi says I shouldn't bring that kind of pie to Thanksgiving (although he ate a few pieces to "test it"). I guess it's more of a "No Fail except in Japan" crust.

I have a week to go, so we'll see how it goes. I might go the graham cracker crust route or do the not-Crumble dessert. Pics of T-Day will be posted.

Comix coincidence

2009-11-09T23:04:00.001+09:00

It turns out one of my favorite Dutch illustrators, Maakie Hartjes, appears to be in Japan, according to her blog. Of course, she's in Nagasaki, and who knows where she's bound for next, but it made me realize something: In this manga-laden land I'm in, I really miss the comics I usually read.

Yes, most people know I'm a comic geek, and I usually collect comics from other lands, especially those where I can understand the language. I came across Maakie's comic collections when I was learning Dutch and was always happy to find a new one when I traveled to Holland for work. Not only did it help me learn better slang, they were damn funny, too. I was impressed with a lot of Dutch comics, but I liked her work a lot.

I'm not totally against manga (I did have the entire Astor Boy reprints in English...so beautiful), but first off, it's impossible to read them at my level of Japanese and two....m'eh. The style never grabbed me, even in English. I've thumbed few a bunch while here and I've not been so taken with them. Japanese advertisements are more engaging, design wise, for me.

Of course, the bizarre odds that so many manga shops we've gone into are porno manga shops... how were we supposed to know? The clientele for comic shops and porno stores look very similar!

I went from buying and reading comics every week for 30+ years to basically cold turkey ever since we came to Japan. And now, knowing a comic creator I really like is nearby...well, I'm feeling the loss. And all of her comics I own are in storage, so I can't even get reacquainted. Humph.

Maakie, ik hoop dat je een heerlijke vakantie hebt!

Library 101 or is it?

2009-11-02T23:17:00.000+09:00

The meishi arrived today. You're not anyone in Japan until these babies are in your card case:

My library life has begun now in Tokyo (and not just from the cards). Various opportunities are coming together and I'm getting a good look at a variety of libraries. I've also been delving into some research on librarianship in Japan, which explains a lot about why this country appears to be not so involved in the global library world. It's the exact opposite of such other Asian countries as China and India. You just try and STOP them from joining in the party!

[This is about to become very library-centric, so for my readers who just want to read "wacky Japan" entries, you can stop now]

Many of the places I've seen are small, isolated libraries, not unlike some of my previous jobs. I spent a lot of time bringing those places into a more 21st century setting; global info clearing houses with lots of resource sharing and plenty of networking from my librarian peeps in all corners.

But being back in this current space seems almost timely to the new "craze" sweeping the library world: Library 101. It was put together by two guys who are very active in libraries and huge cheerleaders for innovation. Nothing wrong with that. But the video and the marketing of it leave me a little less than inspired. There are some essays attached to the site/plan/marketing that touch upon what I think are major issues all librarians should embrace: flexibility, ethics, networking and innovation. But by "innovation" I don't mean the latest fad app out there. I mean being innovative in your solutions. And I think the former is being touted so strongly in Library 101. The list of 101 resources and things to know strikes me as filler. Hulu? IPhones? Really? And the usual 2.0 "tools": Facebook? Myspace? OK....

There seem to be a lot of careers built on this bandwagon. Again, if it helps people, great. I just don't appreciate the "you're with us or you're antiquated" spiel. Listen, back when I got the ol' MSLS, I had to pass tests in the "latest" technology: Lotus 1-2-3, DBaseIV, SPSS v.1, the exciting world of phone modem searching. Do I use any of this tech now? Of course not. I don't think the idea is that you must learn how to use whatever tech is hot. You should just know how to understand and adapt to what's coming.

Look maybe it's because I spent most a lot of time in the corporate world, but when I had a scientist trying to get dial-up once a week during a coup in Madagascar or hands deep in shark waste, I wasn't about to impress upon them the need for the Library IPhone app or wiki if they needed citations or research. What I DID do was work with similar organizations in the same areas to share what meager NGO resources we had into creating a better system for everyone. Innovative? Yes. Flexible? Sure. Ethical? You bet. Library 101? No, It's called BEING A GOOD LIBRARIAN.

It may be that some of these libraries I see now will need the apps mentioned. Some may not (After all, Hulu doesn't even work in this country). But the main point is about working with people outside your usual circle, thinking about marketing and networking, building up the resources your clients need. Maybe, just maybe, I can get the somewhat insular world of Japanese librarianship to be a little less so. Maybe if the Library 101 song said that (and in a shorter time period) I would less snarky about it.

We now return to your regularly scheduled blogging....

Dinner is Served

2009-10-28T21:05:00.004+09:00

What is tonight's menu? It looks like mustard-ginger marinated tofu on a bed of roasted eggplant and garlic with chili-rosemary potatoes, bean sprouts, pickles and asparagus (with mayonnaise, just because the kewpie squeeze bottles demand use.)

Yummy indeed. I do like cooking. But I find it funny just as I finish this meal to pop by my pal David's site and see his latest entry on his anniversary dinner at Denny's with his adorable husband, Mark. And I feel a slight pang of jealousy.

Now I've never been a huge fan of Denny's (not exactly a NYC thing), but I do love eating diner food, which I guess comes close to those "family service establishments" (as we called them at a previous job.) I mean, I didn't get this svelte figure staying away from disco fries and big-ass omelettes.

I've made it an oath to stay away from fast food joints for the past decade, such as McDs or KFC or even TGIFs, which are all in abundance here in Tokyo, too. It's a health issue. But I realize that I haven't actually shied away from JAPANESE fast food joints. And hey for 5 bucks, you can get a primo lunch set at these places. I tend to choose the ones that have a little ticket machine out front and play "What will I get for lunch today?" Even now that my kana is getting better, I deliberately don't read the choices and just push a button. Invariably I end up with a cutlet or soba or something in curry (just as tasty and healthy as brown gravy!) And I realize, not only is it cheap and filling, I'm basically eating at Japanese diners.And while the portions are more healthy here, the actual food is not.

I do eat healthier at home here in Tokyo (now that I've sworn off the coconut sable biscuits) and that has to do with our attempts to keep both a milchig kitchen and a sense of portion control. But it ain't easy. I mean, a piece of fruit can cost up to 4 bucks, but a bag of those delish biscuits is less than a dollar.It's an easy slide.

And not that I don't eat well here, but as much as Tokyo is an international cuisine location, it's not like NYC. But, multi-ethnicity aside, what I really miss is that kind of lingering dinginess around you as you chat with your friends and watch the masses swarm in and out, all the while scarfing down a Monte Cristo, or nicely toasted bagel with a smear (or that unfortunate time I was low-carbing and actually ate diner cottage cheese. with sausages.)

I guess it's "family service establishment home sickness."

But now I'm off to eat my dessert of a pear and cheese: incredibly expensive, but healthier.

Happy Anniversary, David & Mark. May all your grand slams be delicious!

A Private Matter

2009-10-27T12:13:00.003+09:00

Back in NYC, I had a great little shredder. It cost $20 from Staples and my daily pile of bills (and accompanying solicitations all featuring my acct numbers) were regularly shredded and bagged. Even though I went paperless long ago on all my accounts, they of course still send stuff the old fashioned way. And having been the victim of identity theft once before (a tale from my old blog) I tend to be much more aware of destroying any possible way for others to claim my rather sorry funds.

Now that I've had my first forwarding of my US mail (A big envelope of Library magazines and, yes, more mail from the credits cards), I realized it would probably be best to shred it here, too. But where to find such a device? Would it be prohibitively expensive? Filled with more kanji and musical themes like our other appliances? If I try to shred my Japanese bills, would they be somehow impervious to metal teeth and "Anchors Aweigh"?

Thankfully, a Japanese friend told me about privacy stamps. For 500 yen, I bought one yesterday:

Adorable, no?

It opens up to this:

And you can stamp across any private information:

And then your paper gets thrown in the proper receptacle. It may not have the cathathis of shredding up annoying offers for increased APR, but still it keeps one safe, was very cheap and fits into a darling little case. As a good rebbetzin, I suppose I should have one for every outfit, just is case there are moments at any lifecycle event. You do never know here.

The other week I had gone past my latest new obsession, Itoya, the largest stationery store in Tokyo (and "stationery" is putting it mildly), and they had incredibly fancy rolling privacy stamps. Ones shaped like little animals. Ones made out of metal. A variety of "stamp muddle templates." I once again felt my bills were underdressed, as I feel so many times on the street here.

But at least I know my student loan account won't be getting anyone else some new credit card or down payment. And that is a comfort, underdressed or no.

Back in the saddle

2009-10-19T22:22:00.001+09:00

Ah, Libraries. Like a badly-dressed torch singer in a low-rent boite, you pull be back with your siren song:

Can you hear me now?

2009-10-11T23:50:00.001+09:00

Well, now that several weeks have passed and all the holidays requiring my rebbetzin attention (and change of wardrobe) have come to an end, things are slowly becoming routine. And the first sign of that is my phone bill appearing on the desk the other day.

Now, I know all my friends back home thought that I'd be equipped with some super-duper Japanese phone so I could drive buses remotely, send texts to the moon and basically have the world at a push of the button. But like me fitting into a size 14 kittel, that's a myth that's about to busted wide open.

First off, phones here are pretty old-fashioned. It is true that the Japanese text all the time. ALL THE TIME. On the streets, in the subway, on line in stores. And that part is nice, as it's really quiet. Subway rides are only filled with the sounds of announcements and the odd music emanating from the stations. (The Nino Rota tune filling the JR Station at Ebisu keeps making me think The Rabbi's Sicilian relatives will come bursting out of the tempura place near the exit.)

And I can only imagine what the Bx12 Select bus in the Bronx would have been like if everyone only texted.
But, are the Japanese texting on Blackberries or iPhones or such? No, they're using phones like mine:

Let me point out that I always hated texting on a phone pad as it took forever. I do not know how they do it in two kanas and kanji. There are iPhones for sale in Japan, but it appears they're not doing so well as the Japanese like his old clamshell style with so many buttons. (It took me a month to find "Manner mode" button that shuts off the ringtones. I found it when I was taking a picture.) And yes, that does say "TV" on the bottom right button, although I didn't pay for that service.

I actually ended up with this style as it was the only version that had English functions, if needed. That doesn't always help when e-mails come in, though:

Whatever it says, that frog didn't take it too well.

I needed my "Gaijin card" to get the phone and then it took 3 days. Of course, there were extras to be bought to guarantee my 0 Yen down, but I was told they could be cancelled within a month. Some I am forced to have, such as when I call anyone has the same phone system as I do, I hear "one moment please" (in Japanese) and then jaunty music, never a phone ringing. For the longest time, I thought I accidentally dialed some business. And the other extras...well I haven't quite figured out what they are.

Then I was asked how I wanted to pay: credit card, direct bank transfer, or (the preferred method) convenience store. My credit cards get charged extra in Japan, I have yet to have any money in my bank account as I've had no paychecks yet, so I went for convenience store. When I asked which convenience store, the sales rep looked at me like I asked "do you have meat?" in a butcher store.

Japan has several convenience stores, including 7-11, which serves questionable microwaveable food, just like the US. And you can basically go to any of them to pay all your bills. Again, this strikes me as odd for a hi-tech place, but then again, it's also here that ATMs ask you for you BANK BOOK first instead of your card. Very Bud, Princess & Kitten, if you ask me.

So, when my bill showed up:

...it was time to head to the store. I do like how there were no English directions or assistance when buying or setting up the phone, but the one part in English on this bill is "pay this!"

I walked down, on a Sunday mind you, to Lawsons, another big chain, gave the cashier my bill and the money I owed (equivalent to about $80, which includes the one time start up fees and a few accidental activities while in Japanese mode), she gave a receipt, stamped the bill a few times and tore off a piece it to give back:

I like how the receipt actually says the name of the phone service company (KDDI), because that was a button to choose on her cash register.

I should also point that I paid with the equivalent of a $100 bill. I've actually paid for a 120 yen ($1.50) coffee with the same big bill and they don't blink an eye. Can you imagine walking into any store in NY and having $100 bill accepted as payment? And back home, paying bills in cash could be done at the actual utilities office, but that happened when you either didn't have a bank account or not enough money in it. Here, this is the way of life. Again, it strikes me as somewhat quaintly old-fashioned (as does a predominantly cash-based society that Tokyo is) but I guess it works for them.

Maybe we should set back the clock at the synagogue. I wonder how Limbo parties and sock hops would go over on Shabbat?

Play that funky music

2009-10-04T20:59:00.001+09:00

There was always that term "Big in Japan," which, if I remember correctly, usually referred to bands, actors and celebrities who were somewhat washed-up elsewhere. (Of course, my first memory of that term was from the band of the same name, but I digress).

Now that the holidays are somewhat winding down, and I've taken a look around at the events in Tokyo. The music listings are quite huge.

Now, for those that do know me from years past, you know I was a sucker for live music. I can remember many a night at 4 AM completely drenched in sweat and lord knows what else, having spent a night either in a raucous pit or doing some silly ska dance. And, as I got older, perhaps I didn't dance around as much, but it was still great to see live music. And it did take many years for some of the injuries to heal, so my dance moves are a little wobbly.

So, I'm perusing the listings and I'm amused to see not one, but TWO Ska events. Then I saw the list of performers and I thought all these bands broke up years ago. I have some of them on compilations from the late 80's and then....pffft!

A further perusal revealed a virtual VH1 episode: Nickelback? Super Furry Animals? Rita Coolidge? Basia? Atlantic Starr????? When did the cool kids all pass me by backwards for the "huh?" past?

But to even go for a giggle (and even for more current performers), I had another case of sticker shock:
$60 for Yo La Tengo? $160 for Chaka Khan? $85 for friggin' Nickelback?

Unfortunately, the Japanese bands aren't much less. So, until some paychecks come in, I may be sitting all these out.

On the plus side, I heard that shows rarely go past 9 PM. It's like Senior Citizen mosh pits! Woo-hoo! Prep my walker and get to the ATM...the rebbetzins gonna go rockin'....eventually.

I need a little sukkah in my bowl....

2009-09-30T16:24:00.003+09:00

Yes, indeed, it seems that not even before I atoned, my job as Rebbetzin continued full throttle, rounding up the kids to decorate the sukkah, teaching them the story of Sukkot, overseeing the plans for our first group meal in the sukkah....

OK, all that's BS. In reality, I slept in while the teachers and kids decorated the sukkah. And group meals are planned by the kitchen staff and Board. (I only rule in the apt. kitchen).

The sukkah came out very cute even without my interference:

No fruit-laden walls (not only for vermin prevention, but have you seen the price of fruit in this country?), but the sticker-covered CDs and streamers make it very Japanese.

Unfortunately, 2 days of heavy rain have ruined some of it:

It still looks pretty when wet, though. And the stickers remain shiny.

I think we're all still working on the Rebbetzin "duties" here. I suppose traditional Rebbetzins do help out in the school and holidays and "ladies events" and such. Someone mentioned that the Rebbetzin is traditionally the Mikveh Lady of the shul (Oh, wouldn't THAT go over well!)

But I'm not seeing Rosh Chodesh potlucks or Lilith Seders or Mikveh Karaoke Nights in my future. Not that the ladies here would mind it (I've bonded with many other trailing spouses), but its not something that is expected of me, even if I was a more "traditional" spouse of a Rabbi.

I'll probably continue sleeping in on Sundays while the finer points are hashed out.

Sealed and inscribed

2009-09-29T23:23:00.001+09:00

One month ago, I arrived on these shores, kicking and screaming, to take my place as Rebbetzin Man of Japan. One day ago I davened with the Rabbi and this new community to atone for my previous actions and misdeeds as we enter this new year.

I'd like to say I'm no longer kicking and screaming, but that's not quite true. I'd also like to say I did what I could to make proper amends, but that wouldn't entirely be true either.

I can really make no excuse for either lack of change. Some of us aren't the best at change. It's a process we try to handle and it's not always easy. I'm hoping I get better at it.

But I am glad, that in spite of it all, I'm here with someone who drives me crazy in both good and bad ways. It ain't easy, but no one said being a Rebbetzin was an easy mantle to take.

I love you, Rabbi. May this new year have us both inscribed with good tidings. And I'll try not to kick so much.

"It is not your responsibility to fully complete the work of repair, but neither are you free to cease from doing it." - Pirkei Avot 2:16

L'Shana Tovah

2009-09-18T14:04:00.003+09:00

Here in a new shul, new marriage and new country, I wish all my friends and family a sweet and wonderful new year.

"Did You Eat?"

2009-09-17T20:44:00.003+09:00

First things first: Today I picked up my Certificate of Alien Registration (or 外国人登録証明書), also known as my "Gaijin Card." This allows me to work, bank and basically live in Japan.

That circled word is katakana for "Librarian" (although it took me a while to figure out what a "raiburarian" was).

The stuff underneath that is my employer information. And let me put it out there now: I'm most likely not going to blog too much about the job once it starts in October, for the same reason I probably won't blog too much about the Rabbi's congregation. My old blogs were rant-ful and angry/funny (much to the delight of my dozens of readers), but I don't think talking about work and/or the spouse's work is too smart or worthy of blogging. Both good and bad. We do live with these folks, ya know. Oh, I'm sure there will be some entries about some funny cultural event that involved our work, but no major details. Sorry, you'll have to wait for my tell-all book when this adventure is over.

But back to the title of this entry. The question "did you eat?" is the Rabbi's way of letting me know that he himself has not eaten.

I don't know what sort of trauma led to this bizarre amalgamation of Jewish-Sicilian passive perverseness, but as a good rebbetzin, I know it's my job to feed him, lest he subsist on his bachelor diet (milk with instant coffee and crumbled up cookies mixed in.)

Armed with my not quite completed milchig kitchen, I've been whipping up some delish things, and realize now I should probably be posting photos.(Last night's lotus root-cauliflower-tofu saute with garlic-topped soba and lots of oshinko on the side won accolades from the Rabbi and the visiting Hazzan who's here for the upcoming Holy Days).

I cooked a lot with Japanese ingredients back in NYC (I lived near 3 Japanese supermarkets), but I deliberately avoided all Japanese food for 2 months before we arrived, so that my palate was once again craving it. The nearest supermarket caters to the foreigners and sells the usual American and UK stuff marked up about 500%. I ain't missing Skippy THAT much! We've found a few Japanese supermarkets that are a bit of a schlep but cheaper and full of good food. But keeping it kosher has been a bit of a struggle. When you can't read all the kanji, how do you know if there's hidden shrimp or pork? (or really not so hidden, they use it in everything). And a few times I ended up with milk or other glop infused green tea powder, when I all I wanted was plain. But keeping it simple and leaving the non-kosher eating fun (for me at least) to the outside establishments has worked.

I've turned the Rabbi onto Japanese-style breakfast: rice, miso soup, some oshinko and some protein (usually an egg and beans or tofu). He likes it (and face it, we both need to be healthier), but more often than not he'll eat this:

Yes, those are Frosted Flakes.

And I'm not immune. With fresh fruit being exorbitantly pricey, I've looked for alternatives, especially in this humid weather. As you may know, there are drink vending machines every block or so in Tokyo. A good place to grab a quick tea or coffee or, as the Rabbi and I like to do, play "Guess What It Is?" which isn't always a successful taste sensation. However, I did find one drink that hits the spot when I'm feeling all humided out: Kirin Nuda Cooling Grapefruit

It's like Fresca, if Fresca was made with real ingredients. I love it. The other night, I was craving it and we walked from Ebisu (our next door neighborhood) to home, stopping at every machine without any luck. It was fairly embarrassing. Tonight I wandered the other way to Minami-Aoyama with resounding success. Maybe it's a very local taste. Thankfully we live in the Synagogue complex, so I doubt we'll ever move out of the neighborhood.

I promise dinner photos will be soon.

Big Boy Shoes!

2009-09-14T23:25:00.001+09:00

I've been told by dozens of people that I had to make sure I packed enough things to wear because someone of my size and girth would not find things to buy in Japan, land of supposedly minuscule people. Funny thing is, I've seen lots of Japanese people taller than me (at 6'1") and a few non-sumo folks even girthier (not a real word, but apt.) But funnier even still, everyone was right.

Knowing I was leaving a job in August and sans paycheck until November, I was being incredibly frugal my last few months in NYC. I did need some new dress shoes and they had to fit my orthotics, but thankfully Eneslow came through with a nice, inexpensive pair. Unfortunately, I didn't find any others I liked or that fit well, so I left most of my other shoes in the trash. And, at JFK, I was so over the weight limit on luggage, I had to jettison a few things there and then, including my old brown dress loafers.

So I arrived in Tokyo with one pair of dress shoes (very nice) and my new sneakers. It became pretty apparent I needed some more for this walking city, lest I wear out everything too soon. And I needed some in-between footwear: Kicky, casual but oh so chic, if needed.

We were given the address of a shoe store near by our place in Hiroo. We are living in a rather tony spot here in Tokyo (I was saying it was like the Astoria of Tokyo before I arrived, but now I see it more as Brooklyn Heights or the Gracie Mansion area) but the store had some good selections and prices.

The one thing it didn't have was anything near my size. I have 12EEE feet. Extra wide slappers, they are. I don't fit into any of the slippers provided for indoor use by the Synagogue. (My Crocs are my indoor shoes, much like back in NYC)

You ain't finding this size in most stores here, either in length or width. We headed to Shibuya, the big shopping district. When I told the saleslady the size in Japanese, she laughed and I knew it wasn't from my accent. But she did hand us a card of a store that has a solution for us big boys.

Yes, Big Size Shoe's Shop or Big-B in the Gotanda neighborhood was the answer to my fat-footed dreams.

A big selection and reasonable to get two pairs.

Stylin' huh? OK, so I'm still getting the hang of my mobile phone, but let's just say my feet are happy now.

Also, let's hope none of my pants split anytime soon.

How I know I'm really a rebbetzin

2009-09-12T19:33:00.001+09:00

"The Torah's been around for 3,000 years. It'll still be there after you get off your butt and help do the dishes!" -- me talking to The Rabbi before Shabbos.

チェルビン　ダニエル　ジ

2009-09-10T14:07:00.005+09:00

That is indeed my name in Katakana, in the Japanese style of last name first. Even when you fill in forms with space for Western names, there's always that small space above for the Japanese characters.

But it works, as the bank accepted this as a valid name.

What I find interesting and rather refreshing is that my last name is not mispronounced here. All my life, people have called me Mr. CherOObin, Sheradin, Cherbin, Sherbun, what have you. Friends I've had for years cannot spell my name correctly. But here in Japan, where syllables are not emphasized the same way, every can look at this katakana and say "Cherubin-san" correctly.

My first name is another story. And since my Japanese documents all include my middle initial (after that little worry before), the ジ or "G." (or "ji" actually) is now included. So my name is sort of like Danieru Ji Cherubin. But I can recognize when they call me by my last name and that's a first for any country.

Stealth blogging- Scrubbing bubbles

2009-09-09T16:56:00.015+09:00

It’s been over a week without any internet access for more than five minutes, most of that taken from pirated wireless, possibly from the Girl’s School across the street. It's not yet here, but we'll try to post before it crashes once again. There’s a lot to catch up on. In the first 8 days…

Experienced first typhoon in Japan: Check

Experienced first earthquake in Japan: Check

Experienced first sticker shock over fresh fruit: Check

Opened bank account, proudly showing I knew how to write my name in katakana: Check

Bought cell phone: Check

Realized that all that streaming Japanese on the phone really doesn’t help do anything: Check

Experienced the intense humidity of Tokyo and its accompanying mildew: Check

Experienced the plethora of Japanese products aimed at reducing said humidity and mildew in one’s house: Check

Experienced the insane attitude of the Rabbi who, being Sicilian, loves humidity and refuses to accept the idea that A/C is a good thing for our belongings: Check

But I’m sure you’re all waiting for the wacky stories of Japanese home life. Well, here’s one that I’m sure will please. We still don’t have all of our furniture, belongings or appliances, but we have received our washer-dryer combo.

It’s a nifty looking piece of machinery that has absolutely no instructions for the non-Japanese. The instructions that are included are almost 100 pages long. Granted, they are full of pictures, but I’m not sure they truly make sense, which may explain why there are over 100 pages.

We did hear a few things from people living here:

1)      These washer-dryer combos never really dry clothes

2)      They leave them all wrinkly

3)      Everyone was envious that ours had a hot water button.

I’m guessing the first two points are said because no one quite knows how to use them.

A long-time expat couple came in to explain the basics (although they weren’t even sure of all the Kanji) and the Rabbi and I eagerly ran down to the local drugstore to buy some Tide. We chose Tide because we knew it was indeed detergent even in Kana and it was on sale.

Even though the Rabbi wanted us to do our first load together, he had a meeting and I was eager to try something in the apartment, as I waited for internet, other things, etc. So, like a true Rebbetzin, I threw him out of the house and tried to be domestic.

I followed the basics explained to me with a small load of whites and towels. I even remembered to turn on the hot water heater (something else that took a few days to figure out), which pleasantly told me out loud which temperature I had chosen.

I pushed the buttons and hit start…

The machine played a jaunty tune not unlike Fur Elise and then did nothing.

Fumbling through the instructions, it looked like I had to open the water tap to the machine. That being done (and hoping I hadn’t just closed it), I hit start again.

This time we got a can-can tune but nothing else.

Furiously hitting the flashing buttons on the rinse cycle (which appeared to be the cause), nothing much happened.

Then it started up on its own.

90 minutes later, the machine rang out a song telling us it had finished. They clothes were clean (huzzah!) and about as dry as the bottom of the Pacific. Another two rounds of drying also proved fruitless, except for the new sounds the machine sang to me.

Finally, we hung the clothes up to dry in the tub room.It turns out our shower/bathtub has a plethora of extra amenities, including drying. And it was so easy to figure out!

Except the part about putting it on high, so 6 hours later, we finally had dry towels and socks.

I notice that many Japanese hang their clothes out to dry. I'm wondering the ethical and etiquette consequences of having our unmentionables hanging off the side of the synagogue every Sunday. The Board may not be too keen on the idea.

Splash Landing

2009-09-02T12:07:00.003+09:00

I arrived two days ago in the midst of a typhoon. Aside from that quite wet reception and some damage to a few items in my suitcases (from walking to the hotel in the deluge with 3 overweight suitcases, cursing the Rabbi, who had been given the wrong times of my arrival and was not at the designated meeting place), my new life has begun.

What I'm sort of amazed at is all the e-mails I've been getting asking me why I haven't yet posted or sent photos. Well, it will take some time for more news. Much as we have moved into our new (very nice) apartment, we're still lacking a few things, such as an internet connection, refrigerator, oven and much of our belongings. We are still in a sort of Limbo, not quite able to make a living space until next week, so I still feel like I'm dangling in that amorphous space before I arrived.

But it will happen, and I promise pictures and wacky stories soon.

Next stop, Tokyo...facing the moment

2009-08-30T04:41:00.003+09:00

Cell phone...canceled.
Cat...happily ensconced in foster home.
Cookware...all donated or sold.
50 boxes of books...in storage.
Overly heavy suitcases...packed.
Life....on hold.
Ulcer...experiencing rebirth.

At this time, I have a confession to make. Much as I love seeing the Rabbi perform his duties, when I went to Shabbat at his old shul, I would often close my eyes and picture myself experiencing Shabbat at my own synagogue. It wasn't just the Reform vs. Conservative aspect of services, it was more of the connection I felt to my own congregation. It was through them that I really connected to my spiritual side and, I'd like to think, became a better Jew. And to be fair, I don't know if the Rabbi and I would have ended up together if I wasn't as connected to my religion. (You can't marry a rabbi and not be somewhat connected!)

Last night, I went to my synagogue for the last time. A prayer was said in honor of my travels and I had a really hard time holding it together. It's hard to say goodbye in general, but these people have been like a family to me for so many years. Also, in Japan, I'll be clergy spouse, which sort of separates me from the general throng.

But I'm also letting go of my "eyes closed at the Rabbi's shul" time. Even if Shabbat in Tokyo is only middle aged Western Jewish Men, even if it is the elongated Conservative service, I can't just escape back to how I want to experience Shabbat. As my rabbi (not the spouse) said, I need to be in the moment to really experience it. And I do get to have Shabbat with my husband, which happened all too infrequently back here in the states.

So, this is my last post from this continent. Tomorrow morning, I schlep my suitcases to JFK and start experiencing this in real time.

יְהִי רָצוֹן מִלְפָנֶיךָ ה' אֱ-לֹהֵינוּ וֵא-לֹהֵי אֲבוֹתֵינוּ, שֶתּוֹלִיכֵנוּ לְשָלוֹם וְתַצְעִידֵנוּ לְשָלוֹם. וְתִסְמְכֵנוּ לְשָלוֹם. וְתַדְרִיכֵנוּ לְשָלוֹם. וְתַגִיעֵנוּ לִמְחוֹז חֶפְצֵנוּ לְחַיִּים וּלְשִמְחָה וּלְשָלוֹם וְתַצִּילֵנוּ מִכַּף כָּל אוֹיֵב וְאוֹרֵב וְלִסְטִים וְחַיּוֹת רָעוֹת בַדֶּרֶךְ וּמִכָּל מִינֵי פּוּרְעָנִיּוֹת הַמִתְרַגְּשוֹת לָבוֹא לָעוֹלָם וְתִשְלַח בְּרָכָה בְּכל מַעֲשֵה יָדֵינוּ, וְתִתְּנֵנוּ לְחֵן וּלְחֶסֶד וּלְרַחֲמִים בְעֵינֶיךָ וּבְעֵינֵי כָל רוֹאֵינוּ וְתִשְמַע קוֹל תַּחֲנוּנֵינוּ. כִּי אֵ-ל שוֹמֵעַ תְּפִלָּה וְתַחֲנוּן אתה: בָּרוּךְ אַתָּה ה', שוֹמֵעַ תְּפִלָּה.

Identity Issue

2009-08-19T05:28:00.003+09:00

My life has been put in storage and the last week at work is almost halfway done. There have a been a few "D'oh" moments (like when I made a pot of soup and then realized I packed up all the bowls), and there is still a list of things to do before heading off (talking to the doc about prescriptions, getting some decent shoes, checking in on Scungili). But for the most part, it's about prepping myself mentally.

I stopped by the Japanese Consulate this morning to put in the final documents for my Visa. It was a bit of a wait, but all very efficient and polite. Of course, after one deals with the DMV or Italian customs agents, anybody would seem polite and helpful, but they really were.

There was a brief moment when they pointed out there might be a problem as my US Passport only has my middle initial, while the Japanese Ministry documents have my full middle name. A chat among the folks there and the Consul ensued, but I was assured that it should be no problem, although it is something that is noticed. But I could pick up my Visa later this week.

I've had a passport for over 30 years now and, to be honest, I never noticed it only had my middle initial. In this secure-heavy era, I can imagine this kind of thing can be a blip on the radar, but I also kept thinking if I was a non-US citizen trying to get a visa at the last minute for here, I bet they wouldn't nearly have been so cordial and accommodating as the Japanese consulate. And then I would have been quite mentally unprepared to hear that my visa was held up due to a few letters missing on my passport. So I am very glad I'm headed somewhere that can handle "identity blips" better than here, so that I may handle the other things that must be done.

At times like this, I'm glad I have no driver's license. I'd hate to be disillusioned when I walked into the Tokyo DMV.

Down to the wire

2009-08-15T13:15:00.005+09:00

I have 15 more days before I set off on this new chapter of life, and I think right now it's beginning to feel real. Perhaps it was finally having to send my cat, Scungilli, off to foster care. Or that I've packed up everything for storage and I am now sitting among several dozen boxes with few amenities. Or that my Certificate of Eligibility has finally been issued, meaning I can actually apply for a visa to live and work in Japan.

In any case, I'm getting over the overwhelmed and now just in the bracing myself for the adventure. The rabbi is already there and is the midst of his first Shabbat as I write this. I imagine he'd say he was all nervous, but I'm sure he's as excited a little boy in a candy store (or in his case, a kosher salmon store). I'm just girding myself to be rebbetzin and saying goodbye to 20+ of NYC living, friends, career and yes, my kitty.

Some folks have said that I'm not taking this well. It's not that I won't hit the Tokyo ground running (my friends know I blossom in most new situations), it's just that it is a grieving process. It's a big change and I'm giving up a lot to be with my husband. But that's where I want to be.

Goodbye, Scungilli. I'll miss you a lot.