Japan has its fair share of good bread. Many quality supermarkets have their own in-house bakery, which makes for some excellent fresh breads, snacks, and sweets. I especially enjoy getting a load of fresh-baked bread before a big pasta or stew dinner.
But store bought breads are lacking. More specifically, they lack heels! When it comes to pre-packaged bread, you'll be hard pressed to find a loaf of bread that actually has heels (the crusty ends of the bread, called "ears" here). The sliced bread has crust, so obviously the heels used to be there. They must cut it off at the factory. Why is that? I've been told Japanese people don't like bread crust. Certainly this could explain why most store bought sandwiches are completely crustless.
So with millions and millions of loaves of bread sold daily in Japan, where do all of those orphaned heels disappear to? Do they simply throw them out? Make other bread products? Feed them to the hungry? I'd certainly like to get to the bottom of this.
The other night I made a scrumptious helping of sauteed pork, salad, and egg all over white rice. I sat down to eat it, congratulating myself on my feat. When I dove in to my second helping, it occurred to me that without even thinking about it I'd cracked open a raw egg on the top.
Three years ago I'd have approached such an idea with trepidation if not downright horror. Now I'm apparently so used to it I can do it without even realizing it might seem distastefully strange to others from back home. It's amazing what a little time in another country will do for your sense of what is foreign.
I love this season in Japan. It's just before rainy season, so the sky hasn't started dumping on us yet, the weather isn't ridiculously hot yet, and the rice season has just begun. The rice season always starts by flooding the fields and planting little ricelings (that's what Ilike to call them). What this means is that on a cool night riding my bike past the fields I am sole witness to thousands and thousands of frogs chirping their minuscule lungs out trying to find a mate. The sound is somewhat akin to "peepers" back home, but they frogs are less afraid than their cousins back home and will keep chirping even if you're nearby. Sometimes it's a wonderful experience just to stand there next to a field and listen to their drone. I've never actually seen one of the little guys until last night. Bonus: two of them!
There has been a pair of Brazilians at the gym for some time now. Being that foreigners often tend to ignore each other unless somehow forced to interact, we haven't exchanged any more acknowledgment than a brief nod.
Being that The Dude has started to latch onto them, we now have a common enemy. It gives us excuse to converse.
I spoke to one of them last night, ostensibly in order to invite them to join the soccer team I'm trying to get together. Much to my surprise and dismay, we were barely able to communicate beyond "How long have you been here?"
You'd think that for two people who have been here using the same language for three years, we'd be able to get a little beyond that. Sadly we did not, and the conversation ended rather awkwardly.
To top it off, they don't play soccer! I thought all Brazilians play it in the womb!
This past weekend I participated in a soccer tournament that was organized I believe for language teachers in Japan. It featured sixteen teams, one of which was obviously ours.
Despite having never practiced together and most of the team being comprised of self-described "chain-smoking alcoholics," we managed to hold our own. Granted we lost every game we played, but (perhaps due to the brevity of the games) we managed to lose only by three points maximum per game. By our second game we realized that our single goal for the tournament should be to score a single goal. We managed to do that within the last thirty seconds of our fifth and last game. So with an overall goal ratio of one to twelve, we emerged triumphant.
My body has rarely hurt more in my life, but it was a fun and invigorating time. Strangely enough it has also ignited in me a small bit of interest in soccer, where before I detested the sport. I guess all it takes is a sound beating and fun teammates.
UPDATE: You can see photos of our journey here: http://s23.photobucket.com/albums/b365/osmocote/Nagano%20Soccer/