Pre New Year

I don’t think I mentioned it previously in this blog, but thanks to the efforts of Lizzie, Christmas dinner was a great success. Jouzu ne Rizu-chan! We had a huge, hormonal looking chicken, roast potatoes, and even home made gravy! Sadly, no white Christmas this year – perhaps next year…

Soon after, Liz went to Australia for a holiday, and Timmy had already gone back to his home town in the states (San Fernando (?) – “where the porn comes from”). So a few days after Christmas, Phil and I headed over to our supervisors place – Sanada-kun (aka “funniest man in Japan”) and finally got to meet his legendary wife. Tales of her beauty and ferocity had been circulating for some time, so I didn’t know if I was more scared of her or whether I would be blinded by her spectacular beauty. See the photos and judge for yourself.

A couple of days after that, Phil, Andy and I were invited by Taka-chan (a colleage at city hall, whose English abilities vary according to the alignment of the planets from fluent to absolutely nil) to a rice cake making party in Taishin village. For those of you who aren’t aware, rice cakes – “mochi” – are a traditional New Years’ food in Japan. They are made of rice that is pounded until it becomes a gelatinous dough, and then eaten barbecued, in soups or dipped in various flavourings. Personally, I would rather eat plain old boiled rice, but they are much-loved in Japan. Apparently to the extent that people would risk their lives just to savour the taste of mochi. I kid you not. Three people died after choking on mochi this year, and the government issues official warnings about the risks of eating mochi, “urging people to take small bites, chew well and drink plenty of liquids”.

Apparently we were guests of honour at this mochi making party, and our hosts were very concerned that we might catch colds. So much so that they insisted that we don assorted cardigans, coats and jackets. Or perhaps they just wanted to see us dressed in their silliest garments. I think Andy could have easily passed for a little old granny…

Despite this, we apparently weren’t quite trusted enough to be allowed to pound the mochi. Not at first anyway. I think after the two old blokes who were doing it got tired enough though, they were more than happy to hand over their rice-pounding mallets. It is actually pretty hard work, and I was impressed that they were able to do it. And everybody did have a good laugh – after all, what could be funnier than making a few cardigan wearing foreigners exert themselves by hitting rice with a mallet to make it into a doughy paste, just so that they can choke on it later?