tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-287455632024-03-12T21:35:48.928-04:00Kimono KarenThe Singapore EditionKimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.comBlogger311125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-27045948235958773492014-01-27T02:57:00.003-05:002014-01-27T02:59:44.139-05:00Lights, Action, and Supertrees!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6E6bytiPDtY5mlxs70aYbu7OzCCTeov4eqpDgtnVy1Ljix5aPU2Xl1XwOnNpSnn_O1GoJqp1xBVDDh6n4mWhIOEhB_nJYeQR4wFIeqAbiIMKJ24dJWnboV8Xp4UcHxwrN-OHveQ/s1600/IMG_1842.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6E6bytiPDtY5mlxs70aYbu7OzCCTeov4eqpDgtnVy1Ljix5aPU2Xl1XwOnNpSnn_O1GoJqp1xBVDDh6n4mWhIOEhB_nJYeQR4wFIeqAbiIMKJ24dJWnboV8Xp4UcHxwrN-OHveQ/s1600/IMG_1842.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">One of my favorite places on this island was a place that I
had checked out on many a Pinterest post before I ever got the plane tickets to
Singapore into my hand.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It comes as no
surprise that it was one of the first places I insisted we visit upon arrival,
to which Kimono Hubby responded with less than impressive enthusiasm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nor is it a surprise that I keep going back
to it, as recent as last week when my mom and cousin were visiting. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gardens by the Bay is one of the most
beautiful and interesting architectural wonders on this island, but you must
time your visit just right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeO66TUTUNS7iGqNYZ-sZdwxvjdg7y3q7TwCxFjHG2vtftEAFTxhnTzQYvL2uSwgjEmubRS1vLobi2jWfJ8BsYr4xy-KDFISawsxZBPKksIIG3DzudaPAF2dn8YFdJzL3PSwxgaA/s1600/IMG_9078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeO66TUTUNS7iGqNYZ-sZdwxvjdg7y3q7TwCxFjHG2vtftEAFTxhnTzQYvL2uSwgjEmubRS1vLobi2jWfJ8BsYr4xy-KDFISawsxZBPKksIIG3DzudaPAF2dn8YFdJzL3PSwxgaA/s1600/IMG_9078.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeO66TUTUNS7iGqNYZ-sZdwxvjdg7y3q7TwCxFjHG2vtftEAFTxhnTzQYvL2uSwgjEmubRS1vLobi2jWfJ8BsYr4xy-KDFISawsxZBPKksIIG3DzudaPAF2dn8YFdJzL3PSwxgaA/s1600/IMG_9078.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHa4NX-Vmt6pf6RYBfi0btNDUlsbHhcf1juJ70Vw6hKMS3ED0JgNyOS3CcVTlvHIznp_uI2TnBmoBkocBMEcU48JSlRAj8vSfEdKJDFad83w-QP9wWLy5SqgT_pda1Oz3nbgN-g/s1600/IMG_9099.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKHa4NX-Vmt6pf6RYBfi0btNDUlsbHhcf1juJ70Vw6hKMS3ED0JgNyOS3CcVTlvHIznp_uI2TnBmoBkocBMEcU48JSlRAj8vSfEdKJDFad83w-QP9wWLy5SqgT_pda1Oz3nbgN-g/s1600/IMG_9099.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">At any point on any given day, you can go see the
Supertrees, the Flower Dome, the Could Forest, or any of the many outdoor
gardens, but I personally recommend that you get there in the later afternoon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Start with the Flower Dome and Cloud Forest
and get tickets to both where you can see an incredible display of unique flora
and plants the likes that are not typically seen in this part of the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Added bonus, they are also of significant
preservation value.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> We visited both for the Christmas "Gingerbread Mountain" (or something like that) floral show and, while it wasn't what I expected, it was...cute. I don't think I would make it a point to go again for that particular season because you can still get in a pretty wonderful and very similar visit without pushing yourself during the holiday crush. But if you insist on doing all (of the very few) things 'Christmas-y' here in Singapore, like we were then by all means, check it out. After visiting the indoor gardens though, do </span>stop for dinner
in either Pollen, located inside the Flower Dome, or if you want even swankier,
head out of the domes and over to the biggest Supertree, which houses the
restaurant Indochine at the top.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just
make sure you are done before 7:30 so you can find yourself a good spot for the
show.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLHs7jcz3PqMVW4crmx7drMmWXMR7h5V_dbqFnf_w6dRG8d3adFVTtfbZ7p2LfwRFRIplFvp6AZOHJc25TzY6QPPqGFx3gDt7ABbcx0clpbd12qXO5SeJvhDBRwA3GGBWXXExCw/s1600/IMG_9123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZLHs7jcz3PqMVW4crmx7drMmWXMR7h5V_dbqFnf_w6dRG8d3adFVTtfbZ7p2LfwRFRIplFvp6AZOHJc25TzY6QPPqGFx3gDt7ABbcx0clpbd12qXO5SeJvhDBRwA3GGBWXXExCw/s1600/IMG_9123.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now I get that this might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but
I love this.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At exactly 7:45 every
night, the Supertrees are lit into a “Garden Rhapsody” and they seem to come
alive to musical compositions that have been inspired by tropical rainforests.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve seen it at least four times since we
arrived in Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kimono Hubby and
Kimono Peanut were perfectly over it after the first viewing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kimono Sweet Pea and I still lay there on our
backs and watch the show with all the newness in our eyes as if it were our
first viewing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To be fair, he of course
is only 2, so it might seem to him like it is the first viewing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I prefer to think that he has inherited a
smidge of my artistic side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I
mentioned, my mom and cousin visited last week and they were just as in awe as
I was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think it was one of the
favorite things my mom saw here…besides the zoo…because the zoo does totally rock.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is also a walkway in the upper tree
line that loops around the trees, but I have yet to view the show from that
angle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cooler yet is the architectural part of the trees, buildings
and the gardens.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">They are all
environmentally sustainable, some of the trees even imbedded with cells that
harvest the solar energy that is used to light the trees up.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">For the trees themselves, plants are chosen
for particulars like they are soil-less or they are suitable for vertical
planting and each tree has a color scheme.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now one thing I did just discover the other day is that
there is a Children’s Garden, and like any good Singaporean destination, it is
completed with a splash park play area.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">
</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I guess I would go during the day for this, but my real draw is the
evening show so my kids would have to be awfully angelic for me to plan a
longer trip that we usually do.</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Although
I am quite sure at least one of them is not going to get in the car so eagerly
the next time I tell him, “hey!</span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Who wants
to go to see the Supertrees?!”</span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></span></div>
<!-- Blogger automated replacement: "https://images-blogger-opensocial.googleusercontent.com/gadgets/proxy?url=http%3A%2F%2F1.bp.blogspot.com%2F-ZF1183moWEk%2FUuYQsdsp-MI%2FAAAAAAAABqs%2FMwJgGn80Jrw%2Fs1600%2FIMG_9078.JPG&container=blogger&gadget=a&rewriteMime=image%2F*" with "https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeO66TUTUNS7iGqNYZ-sZdwxvjdg7y3q7TwCxFjHG2vtftEAFTxhnTzQYvL2uSwgjEmubRS1vLobi2jWfJ8BsYr4xy-KDFISawsxZBPKksIIG3DzudaPAF2dn8YFdJzL3PSwxgaA/s1600/IMG_9078.JPG" -->Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-61540008522309935752013-12-20T03:10:00.002-05:002013-12-20T03:10:31.800-05:00A Brunching We Will Go<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP8xQmNgqwCF_BcLAVlrGcvmiG3YRfp7YVLw60RcLtkxFZdp969dpyjA9_JHRHgTCdpvPMBSSLdtlBU74_PlD77rCvExn7rMYHYV5zLgnO4GGS_CEPbJzRKYv8OLY4m7hCoQ0qQw/s1600/mb5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiP8xQmNgqwCF_BcLAVlrGcvmiG3YRfp7YVLw60RcLtkxFZdp969dpyjA9_JHRHgTCdpvPMBSSLdtlBU74_PlD77rCvExn7rMYHYV5zLgnO4GGS_CEPbJzRKYv8OLY4m7hCoQ0qQw/s320/mb5.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">No matter where life finds you, there are certain places you
simply must play ‘tourist’ at in your country of occupancy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The biggest ‘tourist destination’ in
Singapore stands out in a brilliantly-blinking, architecturally-rich, wondrous
way…Marina Bay Sands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> While the inspiration behind it is</span> supposed to be three decks
of card, I think it more resembles a massive ship parked on top of three
towers. Whatever you make of it, this building can’t be missed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When we were still staying downtown, we would sit in our 31<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">st</span></sup>
floor apartment at Great World and watch the seemingly daily light show going
on from the roof of this grand spectacle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>While I can only imagine what airline pilots think of the flashing laser
lights shooting across their path as they approached or departed from Changi
Airport, we personally couldn’t wait to visit this modern wonder.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">This is a pretty new place on the Singapore destination
landscape.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The project was only fully
completed in early 2011.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our research prior
to moving to Singers had repeatedly shown us the image of the infinity pool on
the roof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have since discovered that
you can actually only go see said pool <em>if</em> you have a room booked at the hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Alas, this is sadly still on the to-do list.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">But l</span>ike any place here in Singapore, there is a
mall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, this mall is nothing to scoff
at.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think indoor Rodeo Drive and way
beyond my means.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But mweh… another mall…
whatever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More interesting to me is the
casino!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the August day that we went,
we didn’t actually get to go in as we were touting around two little men who
had no interest in gambling, nor did the casino have any interest in hosting them
either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m totally not a big gambler as
I prefer the bargain-basement tables and I doubt there were any of those in
this particular casino, but on that big day when Kimono Hubby and I get to return there…
alone… we would like to play our hand just to cross it off the list of things
we never thought we would do in our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
For now, we had to be content with a simple</span> stroll by just to say we saw it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5WY3RqhmWCoFYx0xSgvoCe92yzi8bGjGT01fgcGjDUtSwduqUzouIulgxAeeNCCpVf5PI3DTa5SOcvvKtzUQO3pcINRPVcBlgbf2q4KmzKX8iAEqf1DJ_8HfM244YhfLMa1Ooog/s1600/mb3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5WY3RqhmWCoFYx0xSgvoCe92yzi8bGjGT01fgcGjDUtSwduqUzouIulgxAeeNCCpVf5PI3DTa5SOcvvKtzUQO3pcINRPVcBlgbf2q4KmzKX8iAEqf1DJ_8HfM244YhfLMa1Ooog/s320/mb3.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">There was one part of the mall that I am remiss not to have
yet mentioned… the indoor canal, complete with gondola rides!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Adding to the beauty of this indoor spectacle, there is a Rain Oculus
that collects the down-pouring waters and shoots it into the river below.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now that is design I admire, when you can
connect your man-made structure intrinsically with nature’s glory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And trust me, the rain storms here in
Singapore are glorious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is also a
decent-sized<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>theater in side of which we
more recently went to see Mickey’s Magic Show at and I got to see my dear
Kimono Peanut’s face when they ‘cut’ a girl in half.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do wish I could erase that image from his
young and impressionable mind, because I totally see him attempting that one
someday, probably soon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Perhaps blanket apologies now
to the girl he attempts it on, hmm??? Pray he uses his foam pirate sword.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGhj4SOg7h3tdOKUGGRgo6WoDakCtbrzYRDWZZdGtFKOL589zdUfl8LNRam4DFEsH3srxQUnf-MVHoGsjZyucoFBMkruD3cE3QxwQ28kjoNsurj8cp7P-jgnz8VxNJNtcRJFlALQ/s1600/mb1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGhj4SOg7h3tdOKUGGRgo6WoDakCtbrzYRDWZZdGtFKOL589zdUfl8LNRam4DFEsH3srxQUnf-MVHoGsjZyucoFBMkruD3cE3QxwQ28kjoNsurj8cp7P-jgnz8VxNJNtcRJFlALQ/s320/mb1.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now our original trip to Marina Bay was for something quite grand…
and I don’t just mean the grand price tag we paid for it! We were there for a brunch at the
world-renowned restaurant KU DÉ TA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Made
even more special and momentous was the company we were with, new and very dear
friends that we had made by the pool at Great World.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These are totally our kind of people as they
didn’t hesitate to say a hell-yea to the $178 per person for the free-flowing
cocktail and champagne version of brunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is
only $140 US dollars after all!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay,
yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I too gagged on the price.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But once in a lifetime!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Woohoo!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And… raise a glass and you forget all about the price! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> There was one </span>bonus…
all the kids were under 6 years old so they were free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See??<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not so bad, then, right? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Right? <crickets></crickets></span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">So there we were.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>57
floors up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> A waist high glass wall is the only thing separating us from the amazing </span>360 degree view of Singapore we are perched to take in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Comfy chairs and pitcher after pitcher (after pitcher...) of
sangria coming our way, along with the occasional random cocktail and maybe a shot
to celebrate new, international friendships.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We were there from something like 11:00 til 3:00.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You would think we tried everything on the
menu in that time frame, but honestly we got so distracted in conversations and
laughter, that we only ordered a handful of menu items, most of which the kids
ate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Inside was an amazing buffet spread
of crudités, pastries and desserts of which after the second hour, our kids
were freely returning to and filling yet another plate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The staff there was so lovely and friendly to
all three of our young brood.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I honestly
can’t thank them enough for that blessing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We had been seated in a quiet corner off to one side, surely in
anticipation of potentially wild Western kids, but they were all so well-behaved and spent their time
either staring in wonder at the ocean and shipping vessels beyond or
engrossed in a game or a Peppa Pig episode on the IPad that dear Jaqui was
smart enough to bring along.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I honestly
don’t think we would have left when we did except we were bumping up on the
hour of the next big reservation influx.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not wanting to give up a kidney for a second bill, we sadly called it
a perfect brunch/day and headed to our individual homes/hotel rooms.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Now, was the food worth the astronomical price?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, of course not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That view, the experience and spending quality time getting to know some
amazing people… worth every penny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>THIS
is one of the most sees in Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And if you don’t want to pay the price at KU DÉ TA, did I mention there
is a free Sky Park one floor down?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That is probably where you
will find us the next time around.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-18540183209872290822013-12-16T21:41:00.001-05:002013-12-16T21:41:05.434-05:00To Win or Not To Win... Sooo... I'm trying something I have never tried before. I entered into a blog writing contest. There were rules and it wasn't in my usual style of blog writing, but here it is anyway...<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/%3Ca%20href=%22http://www.expatsblog.com/contests/845/top-8-truths-about-moving-to-singapore%22%3ETop%208%20Truths%20About%20Moving%20to%20Singapore%3C/a%3E" target="_blank"><a href="http://www.expatsblog.com/contests/845/top-8-truths-about-moving-to-singapore">Top 8 Truths About Moving to Singapore</a></a><br />
<br />
Family, friends and loyal readers, do you think you would be so kind as to check this out and leave a comment on it of 10 words or more? It will ask for email verification just to make sure that spam messages are making it into the contest. Just check your email and verify your comment. I will love you for doing this! Oh wait... I love you anyway. But this gives you extra kudos in my book of shiny, happy people. <br />
<br />
One last thing... wish me luck!Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-16388925941702452002013-11-04T02:32:00.001-05:002013-11-04T02:34:13.918-05:00Trekking: The Singapore Zoo<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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When I found out I was moving to Singapore, there were two
questions I was repeatedly asked: 1) Do you know how hot it is there? (Answer:
Yes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As hot as hell-fire.) And 2) Do you
know how awesome the zoo is there? The answer was no, but they would all assure
me it was the best in the world.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
know what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were totally right.</div>
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<br /></div>
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There are three sections of the zoo – the main zoo, the
Night Safari and the River Safari.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
haven’t been to the River Safari yet as they are in the process of building
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we have some time here, we’re
waiting until it is completed to do it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But we have been to the other two.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Now, I tell you this in the perspective of a Singers newbie
mom with two little kids who tend to crash around 8:00 pm or turn into whining,
maddening little beasts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So don’t get
all crazy as I explain my Night Safari experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, actually two experiences, although the
first was kind of a non experience as we went on a Singaporean holiday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are two things you don’t do in
Singapore… go to markets on Sunday or go to the zoo on a holiday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The crowds are intense as everyone that works
six days a week is out and about and you will find yourself trying not to lose
your wee ones in a throng which threatens to sweep them away from your loving
arms forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So the first night that we went happened to be
one of these holidays.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After waiting
only a half an hour in a line that moved only ten feet in that time, then being
told it would be an hour to buy tickets and the train lines would be over an
hour and a half long, we bailed… and bribed our kids to come with us with ice
cream.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It worked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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We returned a few weeks later on a random weeknight to much
better results.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Err… of sorts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s the thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The night safari trains only start moving at
7:30 pm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Remember when I told you about
my wee lovies to beasts at about this same time?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can entertain
them for a spell, but when we pass the witching hour there's simply no holding off the beasts in them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were in
line by 7:00 thinking we would be one of the first ones on the train.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Umm… wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When we did finally get on the train and start rolling out, it was late
enough that getting off the train to meander around and catch the nocturnal
animals doing their thing in the night was just not going to be the wisest of
possibilities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we sat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We listened to the talks the zoologist was
giving about each animal as we peeked at them from our perch on the train, but
we really were… underwhelmed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We loved
seeing that there are no cages around the animals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just moats and great divides to keep everyone
safe. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was the type of animals you
can see from the train.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What I recall
fully… deer, deer and more deer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can
hang in my parent’s backyard and see deer, thank-you-very-much.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was the first time we were inside the
zoo and if these are the animals here, I just wasn’t certain it ranked the
‘best zoo in the world’ comments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
is why we went back… to see what the fuss was all about.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiak_1foSOGU1duqToYR9hwUGAZZOpqJggeUsNDcbDmeefGx_XGFbIlMbBiLNiLI8iMeNFEM2Fq99dgJcH0bULTdZp4vKhfQQeftMc_cvtCHvgZr48hJlqpTLPt3cok5997iQgomg/s1600/Iphone+145.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiak_1foSOGU1duqToYR9hwUGAZZOpqJggeUsNDcbDmeefGx_XGFbIlMbBiLNiLI8iMeNFEM2Fq99dgJcH0bULTdZp4vKhfQQeftMc_cvtCHvgZr48hJlqpTLPt3cok5997iQgomg/s320/Iphone+145.JPG" width="320" /></a>Oh la la!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like I
said, you folks weren’t fooling!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our third
trip back to the zoo was made even more special by an extra little purchase…
tickets to a special breakfast with orangutans!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Let me tell you… this is so worth the cost, and even that isn’t bad at $29 for adults and $19 for kids ($23 and $15 in US dollars).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The food is good
too!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not great, but there is a nice mix
of Western, Malay and Chinese dim sum to please everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While you eat, the orangutans swing through
the trees all around you, and then come… somehow??... when they are ‘called’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They all climb down onto this big tree clump
area where they sit quietly while the zoologist talks about them and a few
other furry visitors they bring in to the area for the morning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After you learn about them, you are invited
to stand in front of them, no touching allowed, and get your photograph with
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They even used my cell phone to
take pictures so I didn’t have to pay for the overpriced photo in a cheap frame
that they sell!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s service!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqscp4o_ICyX8FAykuSjy0iZ2NkUzNHmQiRpQpt9gTEer-iUoExNLaxSCBAWXcYlViwo8qprUuxB8Brc2MYBf7M0VCnsHc00Ya50KssUkOombBQtA5Slj7yyME5Jig4pKGr6EVtA/s1600/Iphone+143.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqscp4o_ICyX8FAykuSjy0iZ2NkUzNHmQiRpQpt9gTEer-iUoExNLaxSCBAWXcYlViwo8qprUuxB8Brc2MYBf7M0VCnsHc00Ya50KssUkOombBQtA5Slj7yyME5Jig4pKGr6EVtA/s320/Iphone+143.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaYumuQ9DEltXvyaFSJtTI7aBJd9ZkaizKu-rxYBs6pntnon_NO8aNfZlBE3uJum5vcSJgPzCrVL5Rf17LsJVAxq25ahF7DMmVSCDx-PA5oQ2pV3aBPYVy2Ct8xQZ9u-9qlEvzg/s1600/Iphone+144.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwaYumuQ9DEltXvyaFSJtTI7aBJd9ZkaizKu-rxYBs6pntnon_NO8aNfZlBE3uJum5vcSJgPzCrVL5Rf17LsJVAxq25ahF7DMmVSCDx-PA5oQ2pV3aBPYVy2Ct8xQZ9u-9qlEvzg/s320/Iphone+144.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Once mommy and daddy were done ogling the orangutans,
because you know the kids were over it after a few minutes, we moved over to
the other creature that was available for touching and even holding if you were
so bold… a milk snake!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, I will be
totally honest and say I am not a huge fan of snakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I dislike spiders a whole lot
more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also make it a priority to never
let fear stop me from doing things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
once held a tarantula because of this personal room, so I would be damned if I
wasn’t going to hold the snake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kimono
Hubby on the other hand is only afraid on one thing in this world (well, two if
you count losing his beautiful wife) and that is snakes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was never going to volunteer to help the boys
with this, so big, bad mommy stepped up to the plate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully Kimono Peanut with his
no-fear-attitude needed no help at all and was only too happy to have this
squirmy thing draped around his neck, and even laughed when it squeezed his
neck, all the while shouting “take a picture of me, mommy!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kimono Sweet Pea on the other hand was a bit
more cautious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From the moment that
thing was placed on him, he never took his eyes off of it… even when it snaked
its tail into mommy’s cleavage.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I smiled
while this happened, of course, but what I really wanted to do was whip the
thing across the forest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just waited patiently for the zoo keeper to
untangle it from us, which gratefully she didn’t wait too long to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoCWgHADbIUab6rl5Ve_FMIJXOQDwlKFVRt_QwsDB2akhkbh5rV2U7zcGAbsz1eFnRXB7K1pibypWSCP-Di978daXe3hW3TtTJyRcIzyzQJGIdIm3H1JPExCs3446c9P78mXgtg/s1600/Iphone+149.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicoCWgHADbIUab6rl5Ve_FMIJXOQDwlKFVRt_QwsDB2akhkbh5rV2U7zcGAbsz1eFnRXB7K1pibypWSCP-Di978daXe3hW3TtTJyRcIzyzQJGIdIm3H1JPExCs3446c9P78mXgtg/s320/Iphone+149.JPG" width="320" /></a>We left the breakfast and moved on through the rest of the
zoo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like I said, there aren’t really
cages for the animals, beyond the ones that need them as a necessity… like penguins
need to stay cold, so they live in an icy building.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are so many opportunities to get up
close and personal with different animals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We got to feed the kangaroos, which must be incredibly well fed as few
had any interest in nibbling for the bowl that my boys eagerly held out for
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In other places, they had feeding
times set up when you could show up and watch the zoo keepers feed the
animals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We missed elephant bath time,
but I think that would be a fun and silly thing to watch the next time we go to
the zoo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we will most certainly be
going many times again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Like every great place here in Singapore, the zoo has a
water play area!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There really couldn’t
be a smarter idea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You bring a bag with
swim suits and just change the kids in and out of their wet clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s positioning in the zoo also happens to
be quiet handy as it is just at the
my-kids-are-literally-melting-from-the-heat-and-walking point and you can get
them nicely refreshed to finish the rest of the path through the zoo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My only complaint about the water play area
is the selection of food there. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bring
your own picnic lunch, because there is a KFC with very limited offerings (and
of course, it is totally unhealthy and kind of blech to me) and a Ben and Jerry’s
(which is just as unhealthy, but I am not going to knock on a cone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Evah.)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7iQlwTWY8iGSF0kY3pj4l2hZTq8L6RyEs9nwETJDOHzNzzGNDMMGJtMG8dlJi5o4QKif6QQxLWsDudjO3bXysgdNkBexizOXjbHacTrjaoDSjZnmCn-hMTSL9PqzoLMJez10UQ/s1600/Iphone+152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb7iQlwTWY8iGSF0kY3pj4l2hZTq8L6RyEs9nwETJDOHzNzzGNDMMGJtMG8dlJi5o4QKif6QQxLWsDudjO3bXysgdNkBexizOXjbHacTrjaoDSjZnmCn-hMTSL9PqzoLMJez10UQ/s320/Iphone+152.JPG" width="320" /></a> </div>
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All in all, the rumors were true.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you are just visiting the country, don’t
miss this gem.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Your kids, or the kid
inside of you, will thank you for it.
</div>
Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-48681550227238289782013-10-28T06:48:00.001-04:002013-10-28T06:50:08.588-04:00Home Sweet Singaporean Home<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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Do you know how many people asked for pictures of my
house?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s what I have to say to you
all… come visit and see it in person!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Okay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know only two or three of you will, but I
seriously wish we had more people to fill these empty rooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What empty rooms, you say?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, we settled on renting a five bedroom
(plus helper’s room which we use for storage), six bath monstrosity that is
obviously way too big for our needs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>After many weeks of negotiations though, we talked the price down and
included a few extra important bits into the monthly price, so we decided to go
with the house that was less than a block away from the preschool, 6 minutes
drive to Kimono Hubby’s office, 4 block walk to the mall and grocery store. The
big ole lap pool didn’t hurt when we factored it into the equation too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are only here temporarily, so why not live
like we are on holiday for a few years, even if I have to clean all that square
footage all by myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just make the
kids walk around with mop shoes on to get our floors all sparkly clean!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Here begins your virtual tour of my humble *ahem* abode…</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNwVdPA2pp4mbz6xT4guiN0ggSQLB7k7wPa5vRi_0_ftuwc3mb37VeX1q1XR8F33JyLgdadtfHkKq7g7sbUsUgqyMuk89WbPbqtfYU6zDtMG6nWRq0j1rUyPY4pM_iB7bLkT0bg/s1600/181.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZNwVdPA2pp4mbz6xT4guiN0ggSQLB7k7wPa5vRi_0_ftuwc3mb37VeX1q1XR8F33JyLgdadtfHkKq7g7sbUsUgqyMuk89WbPbqtfYU6zDtMG6nWRq0j1rUyPY4pM_iB7bLkT0bg/s320/181.JPG" width="320" /></a>After entering the security gate, you first arrive here at
our pool… complete with an adjoining bar and an upper deck where I can lounge
the hot days away under the fans above.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>If you aren’t a pool or drinking person… well then you just can’t be my
friend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But if you aren’t, there is
still a TV to watch above the bar and surround sound that connects to your
IPhone and will play your favorite tunes throughout the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxKKtnsvmEH2JN-aFXu6BzO-K3dyEbGDAtaUnGRHW-2na0guiZQOmfRgWbCrL5K1HHkBV5eSYbW7L-wdvs0N-t6m9cujWh3FS035luCiyX3ZF7TUoNZYD6Lge-qsOhOTkcuPA-kg/s1600/337.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxKKtnsvmEH2JN-aFXu6BzO-K3dyEbGDAtaUnGRHW-2na0guiZQOmfRgWbCrL5K1HHkBV5eSYbW7L-wdvs0N-t6m9cujWh3FS035luCiyX3ZF7TUoNZYD6Lge-qsOhOTkcuPA-kg/s320/337.JPG" width="320" /></a> After removing your shoes, as this is an Asian home, you
will find yourself in the living room with a 40+ inch TV and again more
surround sound… which is great… except that if you are watching a good movie
with your darling husband late in the evening and the music implodes at that
crucial scene, you WILL wake the children sleeping above you.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6J-vIOjzPr9MpN8T2SPGQdLNcrzWZLvx6DnKtx8P-pd8V7pH_Fch70j5gFX7PBiguN7Wc8RnSU99FaYsqZhMWJCvFYikof_ToMGPEd2mHcepxY7_BPvGj5rZIipdT1Eb_nr_6Q/s1600/336.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG6J-vIOjzPr9MpN8T2SPGQdLNcrzWZLvx6DnKtx8P-pd8V7pH_Fch70j5gFX7PBiguN7Wc8RnSU99FaYsqZhMWJCvFYikof_ToMGPEd2mHcepxY7_BPvGj5rZIipdT1Eb_nr_6Q/s320/336.JPG" width="320" /></a>A few steps up and there is the dining room with its Italian
tree trunk wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pass by that and there
is the entertainment room which we use as a play room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It really is underutilized with its projector
screen movie capabilities, karaoke machine and other various Chinese entertainment
equipment which I mostly just dust and then ignore as I have no idea how to
work the lot of it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydsUmi6V6Gh43bV24KeYQmdN1rVGuNbyojWfR0x0niGEpKzTtAA050ku4UXai4_U_VDemMPAT4yFlthMtp3xxVkg7Q770UA1qmTrP0UXxCYbtiCLtcKsVTkJc9WXt8_9-T5rwMA/s1600/343.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgydsUmi6V6Gh43bV24KeYQmdN1rVGuNbyojWfR0x0niGEpKzTtAA050ku4UXai4_U_VDemMPAT4yFlthMtp3xxVkg7Q770UA1qmTrP0UXxCYbtiCLtcKsVTkJc9WXt8_9-T5rwMA/s320/343.JPG" width="320" /></a>Into the worst designed kitchen I have ever seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, actually there are two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A wet kitchen (for messier Chinese cooking) and a dry kitchen (for
cleaner Western cooking… but they obviously haven’t seen me cook).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dry kitchen is first and houses no
fridge, but will some have a custom made wine cooler at the landlord’s
suggestion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not sure what used to be
there, but there is a large empty space in the wall so the landlord offered a
wine cooler.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only, there was no wine
cooler of that large size to be purchased.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So he is having one made.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like
wine, but I’m not certain I will have 80 bottles of it to fill this thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going to take it on as a challenge to
drink more wine however.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also have an
induction stove in this kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
stove literally broke me when we move in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I cried making dinner on multiple nights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wish I was kidding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I finally begged the landlord to provide me
with the manuals and after a lot of research, he delivered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, the manuals said nothing of how
only certain types of pans work with this stove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another hard lesson.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I finally can make the thing work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I either cook things way too slow or burn the crap out of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hence why the dinner invites have been slow
to happen as I just can’t stand the thought of cooking for more than my tiny
crew.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you say bake something, I
will bite you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s not even talk about
the two ovens which also helped in said breaking of me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pass through the door and you enter the wet
kitchen… where the fridge is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
another stove.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This one gas, but not
plugged into a gas line like in the US, but plugged into a gas canister under
the stove like an outside grill.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Did I
mention that to turn it on, you have to flip a light switch to turn on the
electric that then allows you to use a match to light the gas stove?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And then you better stay back, because that
bad boy LIGHTS!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ask me how I found
out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pfft.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJhG0XPCaYXFJAEpKczicQlGVDxOWmhCO81gSzvJK54x7-OG11oIcbpf1111qtmQP9Pc4L5zc2NUViuL_fh5w2ko_Dh1fZccX6KG68Sq3OPemPeBOx2h7HWutyzspPmisIE8TQg/s1600/349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYJhG0XPCaYXFJAEpKczicQlGVDxOWmhCO81gSzvJK54x7-OG11oIcbpf1111qtmQP9Pc4L5zc2NUViuL_fh5w2ko_Dh1fZccX6KG68Sq3OPemPeBOx2h7HWutyzspPmisIE8TQg/s320/349.JPG" width="213" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiauYAS7sx8dDUBLLUQhwiqqzB2fyz5T1ZzeQki6spl73fPdWl3vV1UdvVaC_Te-mJR3-RlxZPEE81ttu4-WRNmiDh-aXrpT4j_UCrKwgiUHspGs8eq7_XoSccInvN_dvWiiR1Syw/s1600/351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiauYAS7sx8dDUBLLUQhwiqqzB2fyz5T1ZzeQki6spl73fPdWl3vV1UdvVaC_Te-mJR3-RlxZPEE81ttu4-WRNmiDh-aXrpT4j_UCrKwgiUHspGs8eq7_XoSccInvN_dvWiiR1Syw/s200/351.JPG" width="133" /></a>Second floor – there are four bedrooms there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The junior master suite which the boys
decided to share so they could get their coveted bunk bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have their own walk in closet, which we
use to store luggage because boys don’t really have THAT many clothes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have a glass tiled rain shower too which
they think is the bomb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another bedroom
was turned into the guest room and has its own bathroom that is actually hidden
in compartments behind a sliding wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One compartment – toilet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another
compartment – sink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Another compartment
shower.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Come visit and stay in your own
suite!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The other two bedrooms were
turned into a library and an office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
boys love the library and quiet time in there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In fact, I think this is probably their favorite room.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8Qwnv_KH0K9MRAbaXQYAOO1sgLM_hWF9vGCeNVVhdg5vcy6I-1W9uj56hyE1cP_qfbRhuki4Bpc818-l1FKwV_9oxSGjO8y47e9edm34QARk2aj9mbafydwnMNMi_HIxe72xFQ/s1600/358.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC8Qwnv_KH0K9MRAbaXQYAOO1sgLM_hWF9vGCeNVVhdg5vcy6I-1W9uj56hyE1cP_qfbRhuki4Bpc818-l1FKwV_9oxSGjO8y47e9edm34QARk2aj9mbafydwnMNMi_HIxe72xFQ/s200/358.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And the third floor – now typically Kimono Hubby and I would
choose to stay on the same floor of the house as the boys, but when we saw this
master suite, we just couldn’t give it up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Oh… and there is an outside gym across the hall from our room so we can
do an early morning workout without interrupting the kiddos from their
sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the room!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have a velvet wall behind our bed and no I
am not kidding.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is surround sound
in this room, but the great thing is the extra large projection screen that
drops out of the ceiling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Family movie
night has never been so awesome!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We get
to snuggle in bed during a theater experience! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think this will be a must in at least one
room of whatever houses we get in the future.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Here, all the ladies can be jealous and laugh at me at the same time… we
have a walk in closet like something off of MTV cribs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are closets for high heels, closets for
coats, for clothes, clothes and more clothes and where most are empty as I didn’t
bring all of my clothes because why would I bring winter stuff when it is
always 90 and above, for goodness sakes??<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There is a built in vanity where I sit to put jewelry on… jewelry that
also sits in individuals pockets in the built in island in the middle of the
closet, where the top case is where you can lay your watches out for easy
choosing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ummm… I have two watches.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s one empty watch case.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>KH actually fills his side better as he can
roll each one of his ties up and put them in their individual
compartments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He even has more clothes
than me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In a country where shopping
reigns supreme, there is something terribly wrong with this picture.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibTN_-n1mMfxiEUZip7abidTkPKSHzWPZD-VVrqho2-hry0JaaJpfgaqwgyM9aL6VKF3AXuGzfc-nPFtENxQY0PNtpgyNiwOp54TtvFoI9vlnFC2DxttyZTUjcCjmShWTfp322gg/s1600/360.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibTN_-n1mMfxiEUZip7abidTkPKSHzWPZD-VVrqho2-hry0JaaJpfgaqwgyM9aL6VKF3AXuGzfc-nPFtENxQY0PNtpgyNiwOp54TtvFoI9vlnFC2DxttyZTUjcCjmShWTfp322gg/s200/360.JPG" width="133" /></a> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszmMK6LazV-MJ7uF1NeW4O9iEGkusGdgc5qeevzQ0lLWL_GXeYW4ufcoT0dceo2PsKsEuen-7K9-BD9eE0TG2EcJFqCx8ALAdPg2evr4eT5jhZSIQ4JaHXbTXATpkZ8lOrFUCaQ/s1600/359.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjszmMK6LazV-MJ7uF1NeW4O9iEGkusGdgc5qeevzQ0lLWL_GXeYW4ufcoT0dceo2PsKsEuen-7K9-BD9eE0TG2EcJFqCx8ALAdPg2evr4eT5jhZSIQ4JaHXbTXATpkZ8lOrFUCaQ/s320/359.JPG" width="213" /></a>Last but not least is our master bath, where the toilet is
enclosed in a glass room with a door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What the hell is the use of a glass room for your toilet?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If it is purely for stink purposes, I pity
the woman that had to live with that man.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Moving on… the bath and shower room are open and the ceiling is
glass.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So basically, I can shower night
or day and stare up at the sky while I enjoy yet another rain shower faucet… or
another rain shower outside as it is pouring right now… again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our tub is a massive Jacuzzi which the boys
get more use out of than me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t
stand the thought of a hot bath when I have been hot all day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, you actually have to turn the hot
water on in each room that you need it when you need it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I only turn mine on to wash dishes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Taking a hot shower is the last thing on my
mind here when I have pretty much sweated for the 16 hours I have been
awake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> Oh, and did I mention there is a TV in the bathroom? I can shower and not miss the news!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And this concludes our tour of the major perks and downfalls
of my new Singaporean home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I may
joke about it, I certainly can’t complain about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know how truly blessed we are for yet
another overseas experience.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I know
how lucky I am to get to enjoy this house for a few years.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would however enjoy it more if a few of you
wanted to come live with me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Takers?</div>
Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-62460193700250621022013-09-10T01:52:00.003-04:002013-09-10T01:54:45.045-04:00More of Tuesday's Tidbits<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I know I haven’t been in this country very long, but I can
already see that I love it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the
weather always being in the upper 80s and the humidity doesn’t bother me a
bit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the torrential rainstorms
and while I wouldn’t go play in one, the thunderstorms seem much gentler than
the electrical madness I am used to back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I love that natural disasters are not a part of this country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the varieties of food available, even
some of my beloved favorites from home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I love that I can take a cab anywhere and the cost always falls between
$5-20 dollars.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love that I can
understand Singlish better than I can some New England accents.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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That being said, there are some oddities and frustrations
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is not complaining!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And trust me… the housing stress right now is
enough to make me go crazy and want to bitch it out loud and clear and for all
to hear!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also didn’t even complain when
I got lost on four different occasions last week… just me and my two little
men… and my husband not even in the country to help if he could.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am simply pointing out things that show I
am still on the learning curve here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
good news is that I definitely think I will be off of it long before I was in
Japan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess I should cross my fingers
and toes as I write that though. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Let me tell you about my pretty new Singaporean GPS system!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time I program an address, I am never,
ever brought to the point where I can actually enter to park my car.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The address will consistently take you to the
front entrance, which you can bet will always on the other side of the shopping
centre from where you need to be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And
with this point, to get to the car park entrance, without fail it will take you
at least 10 more minutes and five more miles out of your way because all
streets in Singapore are apparently one way highways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you miss a turn, you can bet your booty
that you will get a grand tour of the city before you ever get back to your
destination.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This simply isn’t a
just-loop-around-the-block kind of country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So if you are running tight on time before you even start out, rest
assured you will be seriously late by the time you arrive. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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Another driving point… there are a lot of cards and passes
and swipy things you need here in Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One of the most important is a NETS card.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It allows you to go to a 7-11 convenience
store and ‘top-up’ (pay some bucks) the card that will be used in a machine attached
to the front windshield of every car here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Think EZ Pass at home, but not as convenient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you happen to not know what the hell you
are doing with the card and you put it in the machine upside down, you will
automatically earn yourself a fine of $70 for what would have been a $1
fee.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(What’s that you say, Experience
and my darling husband?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Screw you both.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And no, I had no idea about the green light
coming on when the card is in the machine properly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Pfft.)</div>
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<br /></div>
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The only thing I really knew about Singapore before finding
out I was moving here is that people <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">really </i></b>like to shop here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As in… this is one of THE destinations for
shopping in Asia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I expected it to be
like every other Asian country I have tried to shop in… simply not made for a
Marilyn-Monroe-sized-mama.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am happily being
proven wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also am totally into the
idea that women all wear dresses here, much more so than I was in Japan where I
only did so on occasions when I would be going somewhere with a Japanese
woman.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here I actually enjoy donning a
sundress and flip-flops pretty much every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The only drawback to the fun dress shopping I have been partaking in is
that once the saleswomen get you into their dressing room, they are well-versed
on keeping you there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even when your two children are bouncing
balloons into the dressing room beside you, high on the candy the sales ladies
keep giving them to make them sit still.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Really ladies? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sugar to make them
sit still?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shrieks of laughter and boys (literally)
bouncing off the tiny boxed walls do nothing to stop the constant barrage of “just
one more dress for you to try!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Too
often, I just have to insist that I will try nothing else on and I am extremely
sorry but the eight bazillion dresses you gave me to try are just not quite
what I want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Believe me, Singaporean
sales ladies, I hate leaving your shop empty-handed even more than I hate
wasting yours and my time.</div>
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<br /></div>
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The funniest thing I have encountered here in Singapore
though, occurred at the movies this past weekend.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was a kid’s movie at that – Turbo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Cute and recommended, but the movie isn’t the
funny part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before it started, Kimono Husband
and I sat quietly discussing over the kids heads about whether or not Singapore
movie theaters would have commercials prior to the movie like we hate at
home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seconds later, the lights go down
and a cartoon little girl stands head down and alone on a sidewalk.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her sad words… “Why does mommy have to have
SARS?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Umm… what?!?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She proceeds to tell us how none of her
friends will play with her anymore and even the cab drivers won’t pick her and
her daddy up to go to the hospital.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
only thank God that neither child asked me to explain SARS as we really don’t
try to introduce deadly diseases to our toddler and preschool aged
children.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A normal commercial in between
and then one more fun one discussing how the world thinks that Singaporeans are
so negative (which they are quite frankly).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This commercial went to great efforts though to show lots of
Singaporeans around town jumping up and down and smiling!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They are happy! or so the sign says above
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Considering that the audience is a
room full of Singaporeans and a few foreigners, I get the feeling that the commercial
isn’t aimed at the rest of the world, but the natives themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’re trying to convince your own people they
are happy?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-81877584877677946482013-08-29T03:04:00.003-04:002013-08-29T03:28:17.159-04:00A Post To Make You All As Hungry As I Am... Or Not<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVn1BS_oCtTYP4NVjeFWrUna9lg6BRSlmbrNTMq2SgAHKyHEYRKGDF21utijAWMsdpIchAHyOYh46Z1hReU6wKtShSU_38xLKI3WVxGuWYqS8RCRapoMQEsHRg3AxFcLts6515JA/s1600/041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVn1BS_oCtTYP4NVjeFWrUna9lg6BRSlmbrNTMq2SgAHKyHEYRKGDF21utijAWMsdpIchAHyOYh46Z1hReU6wKtShSU_38xLKI3WVxGuWYqS8RCRapoMQEsHRg3AxFcLts6515JA/s320/041.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As you all might have guessed, my family and myself are not
nervous creatures when it comes to trying something new.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This makes food in foreign countries that
much more interesting and fun to us, if not sometimes incredibly alarming and
appalling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I try to present every dish
to the kids in a positive light and have them try at least one bite before throwing
the towel in on something new.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, even
the wee one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows the deal and
realizes that dessert (however odd that may be too… he’ll eat it) isn’t coming
until he does the compulsory bite.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kimono Peanut is actually a very adventurous eater, so I don’t even need
to play it up for that one. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know some
of you will disagree with my food choices and my rules for my children, but
make your own choices and your own rules in your own home and leave me to
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m doing my best to raise
well-rounded, healthy children here and being an all-organic, all-the-time,
vegan just ain’t gonna’ cut it here in Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
That said, let me explain food in Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To do so, know that the population is 76%
Chinese, 14% Malay, 8% Indian and 2% British/other European/Americans.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Therefore, food is an eclectic mix as
well.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess it would have to be when
you take 5 million different people and put them on an island about three times
the size of Washington, DC.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can find
each individual cuisine if you so choose, with Western food being the least of
its own ‘Western’ flavor, but generally, food is uniquely Singaporean… a mix of
all Asian foods.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>‘Asian fusion’ is the
trendy term at home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, the
Singaporeans? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They invented it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bNdVNwpQkMlcxBQ1Y8TJKjbfOGzvXEst-x0AOBErdI9uBBQH1QNUo05pr3r1q_PwPnueJyZk9jn0b3gJKqPMCwqis9mxFYDVdTxVJfeQ-JQ-XL62UNm7Vaa98kwNwYQOadxRNg/s1600/005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4bNdVNwpQkMlcxBQ1Y8TJKjbfOGzvXEst-x0AOBErdI9uBBQH1QNUo05pr3r1q_PwPnueJyZk9jn0b3gJKqPMCwqis9mxFYDVdTxVJfeQ-JQ-XL62UNm7Vaa98kwNwYQOadxRNg/s320/005.JPG" width="320" /></a>Like everything here, the food is Expensive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I should say this in all caps, because it is
indeed the most expensive place to dine I have ever come across with most
restaurant meals averaging $85 SGD ($66 USD) for our little family of
four, and this is before a single drink is added.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I won’t completely
capitalize on the expensive part because of one of the greatest places ever
invented and its prevalence here... the hawker centres.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>These places were created because when Singapore
stopped being a small jungle village and revved up its urbanization in the 50s
and 60s, the powers-that-be began to look for a way to change the unhygienic and
unlicensed food industry of street hawkers into something clean and safe for
the fast growing masses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Government
agencies now own the hawker centers here and each stall within is given a grade
for cleanliness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was told to stick
with all “A” or “B” grades although it would be rare to find anything lower
anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQGv0d5Z-0XF3uQCYs9wgBOBPjUp59Y374vsYKD8pNUwf2vq-hjOD94nRRUHGABQ8LFepqfKcRs0N9fYzVUsbeVPipPv3esbBLC6zqI43mq9Y3NldbEUE-K5n52oan0mxZR05p1w/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQGv0d5Z-0XF3uQCYs9wgBOBPjUp59Y374vsYKD8pNUwf2vq-hjOD94nRRUHGABQ8LFepqfKcRs0N9fYzVUsbeVPipPv3esbBLC6zqI43mq9Y3NldbEUE-K5n52oan0mxZR05p1w/s320/020.JPG" width="320" /></a>I was also told that if there is
a line at a stall, while the food may be good, it might not be the best of its
type in the center.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently when
Singaporeans see a line, they tend to queue up because they want to see what’s
so important to wait in line for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m not
sure I buy that train of thought as I have since arriving waited in many lines
and thought the food was fantastic and just adequate at others!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then
again… I’m no expert.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijR0dDkRrnnj7SJNSN87HJ88qhOcAowqbwByrl4VmevvLZCmDoji3gVrIorhMwd5QzOf_OsW0cys3fVumdXvl6CqHrRkRfL8kg_TU89_U4bJoBD8ltYGiqIW18cQX7MAYElPT8Ow/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijR0dDkRrnnj7SJNSN87HJ88qhOcAowqbwByrl4VmevvLZCmDoji3gVrIorhMwd5QzOf_OsW0cys3fVumdXvl6CqHrRkRfL8kg_TU89_U4bJoBD8ltYGiqIW18cQX7MAYElPT8Ow/s320/016.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KLJxzS86S_Y682BmMrrXxEO6UpJ-g89q2mAYuHjW5F-ZMsdNOZ1Wbjlw7-HUQDlRylr6va0Qnw8y8OYBmMYdA5eZGNnrw0FnRGv5dEPbNm8A3Ndokb2eeJik8AnnSvaqnCZutg/s1600/026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8KLJxzS86S_Y682BmMrrXxEO6UpJ-g89q2mAYuHjW5F-ZMsdNOZ1Wbjlw7-HUQDlRylr6va0Qnw8y8OYBmMYdA5eZGNnrw0FnRGv5dEPbNm8A3Ndokb2eeJik8AnnSvaqnCZutg/s200/026.JPG" width="200" /></a>The other thing
with stalls in a hawker center, they each specialize in one particular food,
perhaps with slight variations, but one food type.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So the stall that sells the unofficial
Singaporean specialty of chicken rice, which my children could live on, they might have boiled chicken or
roasted chicken, but that’s about it on the variation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And I personally don’t recommend the
boiled.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I find nothing appealing about
the boiled skin part.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ack. As for the picture, yes that is chicken feet, but no it is not the norm to have it served this way. I still think the woman did this only for the foreigner as I didn't see feet with nails in any other bowl leaving her stall.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Fq2pXwr4yCThNoy9X9qH8d5mUuC2HSU01wLgQ1O0Uf0_aL-3fj1tYj-MI45ecTceJCoySVZUEWRZM0si238R2ZO7QNpLmiRF55i_rArQRoFnYaQTso7HlktgNONkG2L0wbHzhA/s1600/069.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6Fq2pXwr4yCThNoy9X9qH8d5mUuC2HSU01wLgQ1O0Uf0_aL-3fj1tYj-MI45ecTceJCoySVZUEWRZM0si238R2ZO7QNpLmiRF55i_rArQRoFnYaQTso7HlktgNONkG2L0wbHzhA/s320/069.JPG" width="320" /></a>One of my favorite cakes in the whole world is carrot cake. Imagine my surprise to see it at a hawker center! Except... nope. Seeing the picture wasn't enough to make me not want to try it; it actually made me want it more. I'm not sure how it gets it's name because I didn't see a single carrot in the dish, but it is a pan fried cake with I-don't-know-what in it and then mixed with egg or sweet black sauce. I choose the dish with both on it and still can't tell you which kind I liked better. It's not mama's carrot cake, but it was delicious.</div>
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Now here is where the weak of spine should stop reading
now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m going to show some more of the
oddities I have found in hawker centers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There are 42 centres that I know of and I have been to three.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My goal is to hit them all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">This first one, even the adventurous eater in me is going to pass on. Although, it does remind me of that God-awful hog maw that is popular with those Pennsylvania Dutch back home. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxun_rWu9CJ3W0fGbnmazM-2emn_frfIbk8UEKls4UVHevbnrjf6SJgiQPt-wipGxABUuLMYJAxarECqwWZ10dRpI8KPZMMqjXaepi5vhyphenhyphenRnIHnBZTiiIUE3mpENRGgrtpcboUA/s1600/015.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxun_rWu9CJ3W0fGbnmazM-2emn_frfIbk8UEKls4UVHevbnrjf6SJgiQPt-wipGxABUuLMYJAxarECqwWZ10dRpI8KPZMMqjXaepi5vhyphenhyphenRnIHnBZTiiIUE3mpENRGgrtpcboUA/s320/015.JPG" width="212" /></a></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Fishball soup seems to be popular here. I haven't tried it... yet. But you know I will.</span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkOuJ3_G45_ItQL3pM_5g-b5xjpTCG4uNCbDarQLLUzC_ZCf6YrK88TLuXGHB_vhZMejQm9TC1-oRRKfOtu7H5ET6kVWC8b5T9bEFaQusmaRz0HCgf7o33ci0UrladIZSWsbn5A/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdkOuJ3_G45_ItQL3pM_5g-b5xjpTCG4uNCbDarQLLUzC_ZCf6YrK88TLuXGHB_vhZMejQm9TC1-oRRKfOtu7H5ET6kVWC8b5T9bEFaQusmaRz0HCgf7o33ci0UrladIZSWsbn5A/s320/010.JPG" width="212" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Chicken feet salad. Now it is rare that I see any "back home" normal garden variety salads here, let alone many salads at all... but this is one I am going to skip.</span></div>
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqTdyL9HEezsg9scz-17QdPj5U0649QYcmjUPv97mk-hM0LmGnDw5m1aRBSWsP4goqy7aj5qyOSAUluqoVM7NPb1W1GocGpsxt9Cr1HL-i_JFBhq5Li-0Jbt-WZ-KJvS24bXccA/s1600/014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhqTdyL9HEezsg9scz-17QdPj5U0649QYcmjUPv97mk-hM0LmGnDw5m1aRBSWsP4goqy7aj5qyOSAUluqoVM7NPb1W1GocGpsxt9Cr1HL-i_JFBhq5Li-0Jbt-WZ-KJvS24bXccA/s320/014.JPG" width="212" /></a></span></div>
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Frog legs... sure. I'll go for it. And to use a word like porridge just makes it sound like all sorts of Goldilocks fun, doesn't it?</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-S8HIdN0iFxnvZd60JP8u3joptQ10ujPrxj7x6NvnZnHjw5K-3k5fjvuzFIe2YpGeNJPxqRGHGqIKxblghn2ceFIH4nIR-iL8IH_xXpPjWt1RbQKgmn60q2PeAbv6v_4EyC8Pw/s1600/022.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0-S8HIdN0iFxnvZd60JP8u3joptQ10ujPrxj7x6NvnZnHjw5K-3k5fjvuzFIe2YpGeNJPxqRGHGqIKxblghn2ceFIH4nIR-iL8IH_xXpPjWt1RbQKgmn60q2PeAbv6v_4EyC8Pw/s320/022.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Duck is delicious! And I'm banking on this being a decades old recipe from a Chinese family who knows how to make good duck noodle and duck porridge. </span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6VX0dU2QrOTYmXOy3kpVHBj1Hv_A3Orbh-XGZid8dK76-RFhmv3P66TOUCif2DsIQmQR0eoqyvOtBoSxT-1uDcZsFyfV_DuinOPC5-_bSwQb0PTOdgh0AUpyYabYJ_O0nf3DDnQ/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6VX0dU2QrOTYmXOy3kpVHBj1Hv_A3Orbh-XGZid8dK76-RFhmv3P66TOUCif2DsIQmQR0eoqyvOtBoSxT-1uDcZsFyfV_DuinOPC5-_bSwQb0PTOdgh0AUpyYabYJ_O0nf3DDnQ/s320/018.JPG" width="213" /></a></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibbdLDBBKsZeSNWoGX23CUtXQiU8AshBoMepKjJ0T6WyXN4Unsqa873Ni5gYOhVauSIiZtzfNaXoq7xoS4ABAEwZ7-gqHJmPNuHJ89KsYh7LIHb4shn29TaOdkP9UXoaP9SetYVw/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibbdLDBBKsZeSNWoGX23CUtXQiU8AshBoMepKjJ0T6WyXN4Unsqa873Ni5gYOhVauSIiZtzfNaXoq7xoS4ABAEwZ7-gqHJmPNuHJ89KsYh7LIHb4shn29TaOdkP9UXoaP9SetYVw/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"> </a> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Fish Stew. And this is much different than fishball soup, as in there is real fish and not just the fish's balls. I kid. Fish don't have balls! Ha! Don't worry. I'm slapping myself for going there. Anyway, I'm loving this stuff. It's
actually quite healthy too with a clear broth and fresh boiled fish,
vegetables and herbs in it. Although, I do pick the skin off the fish
in it. I just can't do skin.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC1k8QlNh6DvyWXhKoS0d1N7M1-7F_a852BFfDQPFJhbhBN9PDQ6grVD0pPodDpRm6xx5ddLPCSGUkO4u_L6SMzbwZZOe07bwZmOwfPymTx1sFqOP7xI4hVCmiISikHCjZgmbUQ/s1600/029.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQC1k8QlNh6DvyWXhKoS0d1N7M1-7F_a852BFfDQPFJhbhBN9PDQ6grVD0pPodDpRm6xx5ddLPCSGUkO4u_L6SMzbwZZOe07bwZmOwfPymTx1sFqOP7xI4hVCmiISikHCjZgmbUQ/s320/029.JPG" style="cursor: move;" width="213" /></a></span></div>
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</span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqs5TOuQrfheLDFFobN54hZ961sQ7938-7GW_8V8NWLIqAfhuhRW_ZeQ1UqdQpQzgRZfcUpqMM4EJ867CPcoxFLjr7vPzMHunnlnynuUsaYzvWTpJRsWbP3hT26AybeHRSe05i6g/s1600/030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoq8Q4NuFtqyoKPV8nIIjbNbG-6thJblRBhwjvfdJk3VPxoJbCwzOLxPolkFDr4msN8hDPX5ZSFt6jajmIitnBjcQEPlKvBjU794X900eLKi3IGnmv_UtcfE9FmeGUVqMAKLKzmA/s1600/072.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoq8Q4NuFtqyoKPV8nIIjbNbG-6thJblRBhwjvfdJk3VPxoJbCwzOLxPolkFDr4msN8hDPX5ZSFt6jajmIitnBjcQEPlKvBjU794X900eLKi3IGnmv_UtcfE9FmeGUVqMAKLKzmA/s320/072.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Desserts are a part of our dinners. I mean, how else will I get my kids to eat some of this weird crap without some reward at the end? It may not be cake and ice cream for my kids, but I think the desserts here are tastier and a whole lot healthier. The longon in many of these is a little fruit. Lychee, another fruit. Coconut is prevalent. And the jelly in everything? Well, I am not quite sure what it is, but my kids now assume it's jello. Let's go with that, shall we? The far left dessert? The one with the heaping of bright colors? That is called ice kacang and it is wonderful. Shaved ice with flavorings poured down it and sweet red beans inside. I like it when they pour milk over the top too.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1hHePz2v7brZ7PWRKUrvBCUqvXEENzFRKRUA1ZBWYHaE43O8aEtSuLR_wTGZNzVPSflZRFeciG9BX9lxnTt734kkYsGH7VMZtcf-Kj4QNj6h0biswb0O3wvW_856ciIrf8Xw1mw/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1hHePz2v7brZ7PWRKUrvBCUqvXEENzFRKRUA1ZBWYHaE43O8aEtSuLR_wTGZNzVPSflZRFeciG9BX9lxnTt734kkYsGH7VMZtcf-Kj4QNj6h0biswb0O3wvW_856ciIrf8Xw1mw/s320/006.JPG" width="213" /></a>Drinks are sold at separate stalls. Note the 'Kopi Museum' which I am guessing is coffee. I have no idea why they spelled it that way when everyone else in the centre spelled it right. But what I can't get enough of are the fresh juices. I know juicing is the trend in the US, but I would much rather have pure and fresh watermelon juice than to mix it with spinach and kale. Just saying. I drink the green stuff too, but I am having a hard time thinking of ever going back to it now that these juices are at every place I go.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4q2D1jYIAfqq1oK9IJ7asfLQX4ki3V_Gy0ZsPEbZY0D1EeUSTXdB47ypRDXXL0b2YN0TMLX_HUi_bfIToN4NhFrUPq7aactrZVc3-WwjoaZ3nxpfUB4Kw9uRs9sGlM1V0619bg/s1600/009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia4q2D1jYIAfqq1oK9IJ7asfLQX4ki3V_Gy0ZsPEbZY0D1EeUSTXdB47ypRDXXL0b2YN0TMLX_HUi_bfIToN4NhFrUPq7aactrZVc3-WwjoaZ3nxpfUB4Kw9uRs9sGlM1V0619bg/s320/009.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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I've talked enough about food now. I've <i>got</i> to go get something to eat. This is why I can never be a food blogger. <i>*sigh*</i>Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-4553452309317360322013-08-27T08:27:00.001-04:002013-08-27T08:30:43.860-04:00Tuesday Tidbits<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03cMIzz3NEFbWekiO5_kjEdJa5YiTbEr24_TtxQ8hwbIaPwLRJSm29nTSTOARQlEPZBvh2poeLrZFFnbWmKZZ2XKvpwpC06eoaeySjmN_Fy0p6rYJCt2aSZW97u9q6cFZCI_WjA/s1600/photo(5).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh03cMIzz3NEFbWekiO5_kjEdJa5YiTbEr24_TtxQ8hwbIaPwLRJSm29nTSTOARQlEPZBvh2poeLrZFFnbWmKZZ2XKvpwpC06eoaeySjmN_Fy0p6rYJCt2aSZW97u9q6cFZCI_WjA/s320/photo(5).JPG" width="320" /></a>I am completely addicted to the fresh juice here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t care how much it costs… I.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Must.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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We have yet to take a train here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know this is a serious faux pas when you
live in a country with a thriving mass transit system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Go ahead and judge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But taxis are so prevalent, so cheap and so
easy that it seems silly to take a cab just to go to a train when the cab can
get me there in half the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Plus, the
best part is that every time we get out of a cab, Kimono Sweet Pea tells the
driver, “thank you!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love you!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They each do a double take and look at me as
if to confirm, that yes, my little one just pledged himself to you.</div>
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We have taken a bus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We did so with two new (adult!) friends, both from different countries
than myself, and a total of six boys and one little girl, all under the age of
6 and all running in different directions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We must have been a sight, particularly when my oldest melted down on
the bus because he didn’t get to sit next to his new friends as the seats were
full.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At least I know how that system
works, but I will need to get my boys a lot calmer before I attempt that mess again.</div>
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I have learned that I need to listen to my oldest when he
says he sees something.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For example, he
came running to tell me there was a gecko in Kimono Sweet Pea’s room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I said, very patronizingly I admit, “sure
baby, there’s a gecko in there…” thinking he is talking about the stuff geckos
I had bought the boys at a funky shopping mall the day before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a gecko.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On the
wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then we went to MacRitchie
Reservoir this weekend and he told me as we were not two minutes into are visit
there and had just entered the outdoor restaurant area, “look!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There’s a monkey in the vines drinking a
soda!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I patted his wee head and gave
him another, “sure honey… there’s a monkey above us drinking a soda.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the monkey dropped the soda can directly
at our feet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dolp.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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We do not have a house yet.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This is through no fault of my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I haven’t had a ‘home’ since we left Rhode Island at the end of
June.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This hotel living is about as old
as it will ever get to someone, so you can bet your booty I am doing everything
I can to move us forward, but mostly I just have to sit on my hands and be
patient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you know me well, you can
rest assured that I am really good at that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><insert a="" here="" lotta="" sarcasm="" whole=""></insert></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtog69pG7L0M1UjQqok9n5STKY8tJHC9lLhup6qbTm5alF5rmsNMXFgQfqMEvr1LGXY3zpmr2hM4qJxTmOcdUQHBoFwTbUOIFL3zlIInzMCqiA_PGef5oMKBdMStlnPSQ5tivjyQ/s1600/photo(4).JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtog69pG7L0M1UjQqok9n5STKY8tJHC9lLhup6qbTm5alF5rmsNMXFgQfqMEvr1LGXY3zpmr2hM4qJxTmOcdUQHBoFwTbUOIFL3zlIInzMCqiA_PGef5oMKBdMStlnPSQ5tivjyQ/s320/photo(4).JPG" width="320" /></a>There is a bright light in living in this hotel/serviced
apartment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every day when the kids get
up from their nap, we change into swimming gear and spend an hour in the pool
downstairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The timing is brilliant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every other expat with kids shows up at the
pool at the exact same time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We all sit
on the sides or play in the pool with our kids as we talk about where we are
from, what we are doing here and what we think of it so far.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is incredibly bonding and beneficial to
our hearts that ache from missing family and friends in our homelands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The funny part is, despite having become good
friends with three women, I have met only two other American families here and
I only met them because they work for the Navy like my husband does.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Speaking of my husband’s job, for the first time EVER, he
okayed me saying where he works.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think
most just figure we are military like everyone else that moves overseas.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The funny thing is, with the okay, I still feel odd talking about
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Talk about a well-trained dog.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span>Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-19400928947199110172013-08-21T03:46:00.002-04:002013-08-21T03:48:14.093-04:00New Heights<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtCiV3zDy-DXtRPKAD9Y0m04jmhliiRqoZrYC4lzJ_DxyAluAs_CHDsbaBzdYTFizzbTp0z__qFnlBj5qZ_KMjg_3dHdOp94CFRlXL93Qby8cqHBAJTjGMEQVdskLFRIBmRC4Xg/s1600/083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLtCiV3zDy-DXtRPKAD9Y0m04jmhliiRqoZrYC4lzJ_DxyAluAs_CHDsbaBzdYTFizzbTp0z__qFnlBj5qZ_KMjg_3dHdOp94CFRlXL93Qby8cqHBAJTjGMEQVdskLFRIBmRC4Xg/s200/083.JPG" width="133" /></a></div>
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<![endif]-->When coming up with ideas of things to do here in Singapore,
newbies like us are never at a loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It
seems like there are a thousand and one things we want to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Now!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But knowing how we are such
high fliers, and all (haaaa!), we had to get ourselves over to the Singapore
Flyer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPoAZ1bNCfoUWbPvMfGNcNOWy2zl0pzkHOK6PgFhN4msNkkod9CX9dYjbsclnmJfPdxCgJfNF-46OXemlyAw3Pr_vUOLzajUsPKuayLnnuEOeC7ghcd2YQJ2MNvJM6q3j-U2M1g/s1600/123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkPoAZ1bNCfoUWbPvMfGNcNOWy2zl0pzkHOK6PgFhN4msNkkod9CX9dYjbsclnmJfPdxCgJfNF-46OXemlyAw3Pr_vUOLzajUsPKuayLnnuEOeC7ghcd2YQJ2MNvJM6q3j-U2M1g/s200/123.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH5dMrIS7QobTzVXisd2Mh-dM55MN8UIqVWuCdDSRMmt4P6uMkTv1k1w7xxKboF2cudVvlC4t0NViUno-hdRV_bLHnvNcUibTR0v8gM-0YMRdvB7_YQp9pHR2kcXUIMOtxOytAyg/s1600/128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH5dMrIS7QobTzVXisd2Mh-dM55MN8UIqVWuCdDSRMmt4P6uMkTv1k1w7xxKboF2cudVvlC4t0NViUno-hdRV_bLHnvNcUibTR0v8gM-0YMRdvB7_YQp9pHR2kcXUIMOtxOytAyg/s320/128.JPG" width="320" /></a>We first saw this amazing ferris wheel as we were driving
towards our downtown hotel from the airport <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">on that very first late, dark
night. </span>This giant glowing ring loomed in
the distance, looking as if it was missing all the spikes that would actually hold
the wheel’s structure in place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we
pulled up to it in a taxi on this bright, sunny day, the spokes gleamed white
with the large glass pods stuck to the outsides of the ring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The line for tickets only took a minute or
two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The price, like everything else in
Singapore, is… pricey… at a little over $100 US dollars for the three of
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Pea was thankfully free.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An escalator took us up a level where we took
a trek through a dark and neon lit museum before depositing us into a long line
that snaked up the ramp to the Flyer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m
not really sure what happened next, because as we stood in the line, a man
came, opened the chain next to us and pulled us and a few people behind us out
of the line, and then had us walk past 20 or so people directly to the next
pod.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I assume the group now behind us was
together, but boy did it feel awkward to jump up the line like that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I try very hard to not stick out when we are
in foreign countries, so walking purposefully past a long string of Asians for
front of the line privileges is most certainly the opposite of not standing
out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But away we went! <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pVgZL5Pr9RTDxuIzi-Zi6vzKUYszkzrSu68mNqaIyY-2IxTuj2DBBBbolSo1VKFv9DKsU7GJVbh__gLleN0kvo9JXvXdyZELEUxJMgXlT9yuyeIjboG3oaWAs4Sue9vYqn7VWA/s1600/094.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-pVgZL5Pr9RTDxuIzi-Zi6vzKUYszkzrSu68mNqaIyY-2IxTuj2DBBBbolSo1VKFv9DKsU7GJVbh__gLleN0kvo9JXvXdyZELEUxJMgXlT9yuyeIjboG3oaWAs4Sue9vYqn7VWA/s320/094.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRA7CywtCCjmo_RxknDrW1dEXHXjRqwELvQg4dJB_PZpnj_xBfY54Tq_EAFYLGtuEkVCEBWl3B-cRTdP-2QFZXhzp6h-egC0gcsxEEnSJwzBrt4713KYe5O6EAHFgY3lxlQC6GTQ/s1600/091.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRA7CywtCCjmo_RxknDrW1dEXHXjRqwELvQg4dJB_PZpnj_xBfY54Tq_EAFYLGtuEkVCEBWl3B-cRTdP-2QFZXhzp6h-egC0gcsxEEnSJwzBrt4713KYe5O6EAHFgY3lxlQC6GTQ/s320/091.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGCWiH16RcHkjGCpIPklHU8L-49VFZSvgMIum_FdUIv3svOTInTDm2X_6Qj5bog-XzlAKVpPGvYkQd6GeLfR85kR7nErNxayYbeg2mAd1HSum0OKX8pB7PTuO_d9nvGUJ5Y1nyAw/s1600/100.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGCWiH16RcHkjGCpIPklHU8L-49VFZSvgMIum_FdUIv3svOTInTDm2X_6Qj5bog-XzlAKVpPGvYkQd6GeLfR85kR7nErNxayYbeg2mAd1HSum0OKX8pB7PTuO_d9nvGUJ5Y1nyAw/s320/100.JPG" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LrFsDLihW03oefR7DJ01J3Yy2A9uCWqpzjMo-4hPfsTTFfoGORhXdGvUyw5gGRBK2Ms8qRgFLAtGotW8CnujBrN5pH17B5riAcoN2Cd8nRFVpbMxTBveMx73l3YsMrQS5WhjXA/s1600/121.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5LrFsDLihW03oefR7DJ01J3Yy2A9uCWqpzjMo-4hPfsTTFfoGORhXdGvUyw5gGRBK2Ms8qRgFLAtGotW8CnujBrN5pH17B5riAcoN2Cd8nRFVpbMxTBveMx73l3YsMrQS5WhjXA/s320/121.JPG" width="320" /></a>The pods hold 28 people and I would say ours had about 20 in
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was fully air conditioning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank God as the bright sun shown down into
the glass structure and would have been like a giant people pressure cooker if
not.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is the world’s largest
observation wheel (ferris wheel for us simpletons) and rises the 28 attached
pods 42 stories high for a 30 minute ride.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>At its highest point, the panoramic views are unrivaled… the funky boat
hotel called Marina Bay Sands, the Singapore Grand Prix Circuit, the Supertree
Grove at Garden by the Bay, hundreds of shipping boats and so much more.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQql1oeJoaoPTj9CJj47E_L9NZcBXBkkPEJsIv-B65Qgjwgc2t7O4zxptX8T_0bSvrN3bNVw5yLUIhvOLVP33gcV4c5-Biem6DPQ6WxIcTtQC0YhQaLlAuoQW0e0Z5qblNJDyDEQ/s1600/112.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQql1oeJoaoPTj9CJj47E_L9NZcBXBkkPEJsIv-B65Qgjwgc2t7O4zxptX8T_0bSvrN3bNVw5yLUIhvOLVP33gcV4c5-Biem6DPQ6WxIcTtQC0YhQaLlAuoQW0e0Z5qblNJDyDEQ/s320/112.JPG" width="320" /></a>I will tell you, it rocks when you get to the
top.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It wasn’t enough to turn my
stomach, just enough to give me pause.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My mother would have been on the floor cursing our existence
though.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we descended, KH and I both
agreed that our next visit will be at night.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My kids seem to eat every five minutes these days, so they
were hungry by the time we got to the bottom.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I guess they are tiring of our continuing rotation of noodles, rice and
unidentifiable meats as they immediately pointed at the Boston-themed bar in
the corner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can take the boy out of
New England, but you can’t take the New England out of the boy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you sure can mix in some Singapore to
make ‘em really interesting.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re
giving that our all!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-10696520485523092882013-08-20T05:11:00.003-04:002013-08-20T05:17:23.027-04:00My Big, Fat 40th Fireworks<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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It’s no secret that I am a pretty adventurous person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What might not be so obvious, however, is
that I am also a very big homebody.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t want to roam every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I like
being able to stay in my jammies all day, only to put decent clothes and some
makeup on just before my husband comes home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And when I do want to get out
there and experience everything I can, I also want to come home at the end of
the day to be with my favorite things and favorite people around me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Moving here, I only got to bring three of
those people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t tell you some days
how much my heart breaks that I don’t get to be with the rest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I turned 40 a few weeks ago.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I wasn’t worked up about the number at all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I actually relished it as I know myself
better now than I ever did in my 30s.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What bothered me, though, was that I felt so entirely alone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had the three most
important people with me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And they
helped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I am grateful that my
girlfriends all got together for a fabulous night out last month as I did
replay those hours in my head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A few of
my closest friends and my family all called to talk and that helped immensely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank God that overseas communication has
gotten so much easier with each year and each move!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>However, I have since insisted to my husband
that we STOP moving just before my birthday each year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s getting old.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTyHinx9d0LfFBaVYq_ajWwZ_Y6aI-tIrG43CtgKS_rnUUgcj59qI_0WerPFZuYl2V9uExAgD8fPrNXG9yE7COtbYJfxoy9pM9ZJ7-UrtZa1B9RscRF6_TYNKqxtZ3IIQ7yg2mbQ/s1600/066.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTyHinx9d0LfFBaVYq_ajWwZ_Y6aI-tIrG43CtgKS_rnUUgcj59qI_0WerPFZuYl2V9uExAgD8fPrNXG9yE7COtbYJfxoy9pM9ZJ7-UrtZa1B9RscRF6_TYNKqxtZ3IIQ7yg2mbQ/s320/066.JPG" width="320" /></a>What did we do for my 40<sup>th</sup>?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>KH and the boys got up in the morning and
found a cake and some flowers for me. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
looked at a few houses… didn’t like any.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We ate lunch… nothing fancy as the househunting was midday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Back in our hotel room, a cake had been delivered
from the hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While the overly tired kids
napped, I admit I wallowed a bit… and ate much of the second cake on my own.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It really wasn’t just about the birthday, but
more a buildup of the recent homesickness compounding the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No matter how fun and exciting a move like
this is, there is another side of confusion and difficulties to be faced and I
just didn’t have much energy for it on that day in particular. By dinner time,
I didn’t care less that the boys chose pizza for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I even insisted it be delivered so I could continue
to wallow while I had dinner and even enjoy a bottle of overpriced wine I
bought at the grocery store below us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And here is where the day turned around…</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ealHWhTbu7uk1ESn7JOeZT_qmAg362C5PVcLkf1qvxQjqwEfD5XMP5URCf-27UR92C8XlS3w_aUwK8WEYPbyyGSEtb9-uqIK9EiJs-0tcdMMO_UGTSt3FkWlHoASlAjprCBIkg/s1600/070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ealHWhTbu7uk1ESn7JOeZT_qmAg362C5PVcLkf1qvxQjqwEfD5XMP5URCf-27UR92C8XlS3w_aUwK8WEYPbyyGSEtb9-uqIK9EiJs-0tcdMMO_UGTSt3FkWlHoASlAjprCBIkg/s320/070.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1uvX795Wz-s8U7irF-S_tF-0Vwa_76_c-vfKdNOIzwzV6IJILm93TtKRDGT47V81f9taDCiw34Wor0HUUqIWEjbOjQbMPeVpvs4AgAXplJp-PhMiI0RoEt1Bm9TxGei8z3-2Fg/s1600/076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk1uvX795Wz-s8U7irF-S_tF-0Vwa_76_c-vfKdNOIzwzV6IJILm93TtKRDGT47V81f9taDCiw34Wor0HUUqIWEjbOjQbMPeVpvs4AgAXplJp-PhMiI0RoEt1Bm9TxGei8z3-2Fg/s200/076.JPG" width="133" /></a>Apparently, the officials in Singapore heard that I was new
in town and having a rough spot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those
kind people put on an air show for me and fireworks!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Helicopters went past our window pulling the
flag for our new country and jets swooshed through the air in formation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>From our balcony, we continued our pizza,
birthday cake and wine binge (me and KH on the last one… not the kids!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We’re not European.), all while watching the
grand show in being put on for me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_bxbEFCDxHsrqCNdH7fFI8Az5gDi7-e5ASOFd334kqPxFt163ZGGvxGdAp_vsNuarWI-Rfd5UwC_xHY7qPHUX-qjZItVVPkBUkf0Smxw_2DgOQ8lK_yguggSlGUX0BmZmsPt1vA/s1600/076.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>You do get that it wasn’t for me, right?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Anyone that knows me know I am not that
vain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My birthday, however, will be
celebrated in style each year we are here as August 9<sup>th</sup> is National
Day in Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This year, Singapore
celebrated its 48<sup>th</sup> year as a country.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we lived in Japan, I used to laugh at
how short American history was in comparison and now I find myself in a country
with an even shorter history, and one that it must take a whole lot less time
in high school and college trying to memorize before a test.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>On our television, we watched the same
national show that we could see at a distance on the balcony, a show with a mix
of oddball Asian humor, pomp and circumstance as well as some oddities like a
faked SWAT team taking down terrorists in the crowd, complete with firing
blanks into the air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As many of you know
my husband’s background in law enforcement, you can imagine how we both cringed
watching that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the back of our minds,
we kept expecting one of the bullets to be real and to take out someone
important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Although Singapore is one of
the safest countries on the planet, this is still a scary world we live in, you
know?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Off the track, but speaking of scary, a week ago, our hotel
did a fire alarm test.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Prior to this,
they notified everyone in the building by leaving notes in their
apartments.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Guess which apartment they
missed?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was about 3:00 pm and the
boys were napping and was rocked to the core trying to figure out how the hell
to get two groggy boys to ground safety from our upper floor positioning.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>See?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>9/11 has indelibly left its mark on my heart.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Anyway, I’m shaking off my fears and the homesickness will
fade as I get my three favorite people settled into our new home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course, we haven’t found one yet, but it
is close.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>More details to come as we
hammer out the details.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For now, I’m
taking my 40<sup>th</sup> year slow and steady, and with a drink in my hand as
I sit by the gorgeous pool here at the hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But not one of those Singapore Slings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those
drinks just aren’t very good. It’s a rough life, but someone’s got to live
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-87059414479397379642013-08-13T01:37:00.000-04:002013-08-13T01:43:49.799-04:00The Real House Hunters International<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
With every move comes the obvious house search.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when you are operating in a foreign
country, how that search is going to go has everything to do with how flexible
you can be.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That flexibility is just
about the house either!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s the whole
process.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I greatly under-researched this process AND the houses prior
to setting foot on Singaporean ground, but that isn’t entirely my fault.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The original plan was to skip the house hunt
this time around and just take a place on base.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I chose this route for various reasons… the knowledge that we can only
have one car that we would share to get one to work, two to school and me to
wherever the hell I was driving everyone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was also the knowledge that when you are living out of the country
on government orders, the rent and bill paying can give you one very big
headache and your bank account a bigger stretch than anyone would choose to
do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I love the idea of living in
the real world wherever I am, I didn’t relish the work involved for me if we
lived out in town.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Here’s the glitch…
there is no ‘base’ in Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
call it a ‘place’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And the rules to get
a house are unlike any I have ever encountered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I’m not getting into the politics of it, but we decided that we best
thing for our family was just to get out there and check out the rental market
or go back to looking for a large enough cardboard box for us all to live in…
and it just rains too much here for cardboard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Not really sure where to start, we randomly called a realtor
to show us a place we had found online.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He said he would pick us up the next day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We only found out after meeting him that when
you start with a realtor, you stick with a realtor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You don’t use multiples like in Japan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thank goodness the guy wasn’t an idiot, because
he is ours for the duration of our time here in Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Actually, I quite like him and his very
Singaporean ways of describing everything with a twinge of negativity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It amuses me that what he sees is the exact
opposite of what I see.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Spending time
with him allows me to see the flip side of the coin.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he really is a good guy… a family man who
drives his wife to and from work every day so she doesn’t have to take a train,
he also even delivered a cake to our hotel the night he found out it was my
birthday, and when I rescheduled an appointment to view houses because the kids
were sick, he offered to drive us all to whatever doctors we might need.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And most importantly, he has an easy first
name which, thank God, because I have no idea how to say his last one.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
To date, we have seen nine houses and what we have learned
is this: most Singaporeans live in HDB housing, which is basically like a
highrise condo; there are also cluster houses that are like townhouses but with
WAY more stairs; and there are a very few semi-detached homes available that
are like one big house but split in two.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The last category is where we have decided to focus our efforts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The first two categories are more likely to
have pools and other recreational facilities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A semi-detached will likely not have that access and most Singaporeans
would not choose to live in these.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As for the homes themselves, they are much more modern than
I would ever choose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Basically, none of
our traditional or antique styled furniture will make sense in any of them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The builders like marble on the first floor,
wood for the stairs and upper floors (and there are MANY upper floors in most
of these homes), closets are built into all bedrooms, each bedroom has an
attached bathroom, and that bathroom has a glass shower room, no tub and likely
some fancy sink in it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To me, that all just
means a hell of a lot more cleaning for me to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And no, I have pretty much made the decision
that I will not be getting an amah or helper (in other words, live-in maid)
like everyone else here to do these jobs for me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just can’t do the whole stranger in my
house thing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sorry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have also learned that many homes have a
wet kitchen and a dry kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is
because Chinese cooking is stinky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They
cook it outside in the wet kitchen and the dry kitchen is for simple, more
Western cooking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The homes I have seen
do have an oven.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can’t bake a full
size cake in it, but I can make bread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When it comes to Thanksgiving this year, I think I will just roast a stuffed
chicken and call it a day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Many homes
also have a granny room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I have found
out that this is indeed a room for granny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because she is old and feeble and can’t walk up all the crazy ass
flights of stairs in the house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So yes,
Mom’s, this room is indeed for you.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Plus, it puts you next to the kitchen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So see?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My maid is taken care of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Just kidding!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or am I? Come visit and find out!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So far, Kimono Hubby and I are not settled on any of
them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a gorgeous front runner,
but we are negotiating prices.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is
so much negotiating here with landlords.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am really not into that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Tell
me a price.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I pay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Even if I gag a little when I hand over all.
that. money.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And if you know anything
about real estate, think beyond New York City prices.) Anyway, I pay.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>End of discussion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But remember how I mentioned
flexibility?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even though the system
drives me crazy, I am doing it all the Singaporean way and negotiating my
terms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Without being able to share a home that we have chosen yet,
I will instead leave you with shots of the ones we have seen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But you know how they show you three tidy little
homes on the show and the happy househunters pick one and sign a sheet of paper
and it is theirs?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It ain’t nothing like that.<br />
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvg0_MZcWvBUc2lZXDRvvQrZDSIGEQCbHz_fw2sXxHIFfneAt86ANVSOgqEi837ys2gqSl8dlmAzpBMlK1p-fx7e4Jtv4AlqQPSouNv34nYQYjukwAIshvjS3ZcSwKiRbxmZNv-A/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvg0_MZcWvBUc2lZXDRvvQrZDSIGEQCbHz_fw2sXxHIFfneAt86ANVSOgqEi837ys2gqSl8dlmAzpBMlK1p-fx7e4Jtv4AlqQPSouNv34nYQYjukwAIshvjS3ZcSwKiRbxmZNv-A/s320/002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Oldest kitchen we saw in the most traditional semi-detached house we saw (shown below). And Indian family lives there right now. It smells strongly of curry and incense. And I emphasize strongly. BUT... it had a 12 x 12 square of grass that serves the purpose of a yard. That's rare.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhekaLymmhI1Y3qL8TxXMWI6FdDWaqfeB_sB-hnMkiUFRc8capye2SevuX-PbYnkRadcuYmX3LzmLTK8XRuqt-murkXyZ_Zcz4Id4zBerL8UMrNS435agarNOdWPlWECCkZUbD9tg/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhekaLymmhI1Y3qL8TxXMWI6FdDWaqfeB_sB-hnMkiUFRc8capye2SevuX-PbYnkRadcuYmX3LzmLTK8XRuqt-murkXyZ_Zcz4Id4zBerL8UMrNS435agarNOdWPlWECCkZUbD9tg/s320/006.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwxSKVpBibfn4NCCYjeMaGSIX_CdpitPf6UsRzhvFhuAFI94Wtvssr1GF5IGvV1BQn6eisZ2XTQxjcrGqgthehKSoG2IqgFnxWecMSLNsFL6lOtHTu9RzS2Up6UH4zRqTCFYPXQ/s1600/008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwxSKVpBibfn4NCCYjeMaGSIX_CdpitPf6UsRzhvFhuAFI94Wtvssr1GF5IGvV1BQn6eisZ2XTQxjcrGqgthehKSoG2IqgFnxWecMSLNsFL6lOtHTu9RzS2Up6UH4zRqTCFYPXQ/s320/008.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
This is a kitchen in a brand spanking new cluster house we saw. Yes, those are glass walls and a glass door will shut the poor fool in the kitchen with no air conditioning.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6sJMgKKlQf2PTl91tUKV5SpFywG53vVp6JGroWjo39rLKJvPfOHlIkchLeZ-0eFQrl2s1yYthdtiW5PtUqD15eKz4wpSMIebKNOMMF3l2I51VhnyTZRJA-ZAG173yNivuGAZiQ/s1600/009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl6sJMgKKlQf2PTl91tUKV5SpFywG53vVp6JGroWjo39rLKJvPfOHlIkchLeZ-0eFQrl2s1yYthdtiW5PtUqD15eKz4wpSMIebKNOMMF3l2I51VhnyTZRJA-ZAG173yNivuGAZiQ/s320/009.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Notice the all glass walls of the same cluster home above, where the neighbors can stare in all night long. But the cool feature is straight ahead. You open those doors and you step directly into the pool that goes all around the complex. Like in Venice where you use a boat to get to and from your neighbors home, here you use a pool noodle. Awesome if it were just the husband and myself, but one kid slips out the door without us knowing it, and I die of heart break. Pass.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLzE73VQMB8nUMz3r8_6pW0nNdWSR9rWJsQmNnNl2iSGH17ceYAV4LdXHljPjSn-7zX6dMpdKAbndM3VdK2jxS7HMiVl1WcXk28YO16ycsedNNzUsaeLsYrlzPiCar0vw_S5VLA/s1600/017.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLzE73VQMB8nUMz3r8_6pW0nNdWSR9rWJsQmNnNl2iSGH17ceYAV4LdXHljPjSn-7zX6dMpdKAbndM3VdK2jxS7HMiVl1WcXk28YO16ycsedNNzUsaeLsYrlzPiCar0vw_S5VLA/s320/017.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
It's hard to see in this picture above, but right in front of my husband is two marble steps down. To the left, just a big old cliff of marble. Apparently, this is a popular Chinese feature. All I see are broken bones as the kids forget it is there and go flying off the wrong side. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmQlK6eCZax_bTtGgKg3WKpHTwN4KEWQsCOfPM-G7SkWi7HpNNMZsbv03k4Kx_eRT965FRS-_MpiTBfAqceGeQR8DKRNo5p0Wn7ZSQ1HLLOaBVK7_7onX3cjW1RFbG87IcexoEQ/s1600/018.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxmQlK6eCZax_bTtGgKg3WKpHTwN4KEWQsCOfPM-G7SkWi7HpNNMZsbv03k4Kx_eRT965FRS-_MpiTBfAqceGeQR8DKRNo5p0Wn7ZSQ1HLLOaBVK7_7onX3cjW1RFbG87IcexoEQ/s320/018.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
In the foreground, the dry kitchen and where the man is standing outside, the wet kitchen. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhekxNlyf5DSQV1FjV19YDF_qw6ytp9qWAxmfMsZFymSwRBNGFrl6YbHUst2nMw0FvsfI_nzU7IwyBEFADP-B7fGcdC4U9hWJv52MLaZdn2tvyOsOnIX5VFKJQwh2lI4PgjRBljCQ/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhekxNlyf5DSQV1FjV19YDF_qw6ytp9qWAxmfMsZFymSwRBNGFrl6YbHUst2nMw0FvsfI_nzU7IwyBEFADP-B7fGcdC4U9hWJv52MLaZdn2tvyOsOnIX5VFKJQwh2lI4PgjRBljCQ/s320/019.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
Looky! We found a yard! <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhizE5-CXrzkRTKlHO-xgEAOWfXxAMd-pqtM_DcCjTEobiUmoLXkbSlodrVmJ-4bbGriANVXifi5XJbRUaWtlxcmGwI-RiPTo2fUSyD3OyAnCunz6Q1at7bABUJAAzOIkuIryV3mA/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhizE5-CXrzkRTKlHO-xgEAOWfXxAMd-pqtM_DcCjTEobiUmoLXkbSlodrVmJ-4bbGriANVXifi5XJbRUaWtlxcmGwI-RiPTo2fUSyD3OyAnCunz6Q1at7bABUJAAzOIkuIryV3mA/s320/020.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
Prime example of a bathroom, but this one does surprisingly have the bathtub. I was told that tubs are dangerous, so they shower their children. How the hell do you shower a baby?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJuP4payC1FqEl2LIzywHswS_nhSUcvv5yZ28O55I4OSxa-ETq2e_P16g7hR5bf0BBdSU1OU9i6SHTuBSbLKunoWFPmuPipFjjjY1Yj8_pKf1tGgHbQxo965J7h2LIui_ywurzg/s1600/023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJuP4payC1FqEl2LIzywHswS_nhSUcvv5yZ28O55I4OSxa-ETq2e_P16g7hR5bf0BBdSU1OU9i6SHTuBSbLKunoWFPmuPipFjjjY1Yj8_pKf1tGgHbQxo965J7h2LIui_ywurzg/s320/023.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
This house was truly beautiful. But it was approximately 4,000 square feet. When we saw the two bedrooms on the mid floor, I laughed because we all could live in one. Then we go upstairs for two more and I realized that if we chose this house, we would have a whole extra floor that was completely unnecessary. <br />
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This is the dry kitchen, with two burners. Really? Two burners. To the right of the stove is a little hallway that takes you back to the wet kitchen where there are more, but I still find this odd. Oh. And that is a microwave and an oven. A little oven. <br />
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Kimono Sweet Pea is standing in the shower with a look on his face that says, "really mom? I refuse your stinking shower."<br />
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Looky! Another yard! With our very own palm tree!<br />
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The houses are deceiving. We only looked at the right half. This is a semi-detached. It looks small, but this house was over 3,000 square feet. <br />
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This home was a bit of a dream. I love it and would move in in a heart beat. I pictured myself with those windowed walls completely open and enjoying the breeze with a drink in my hand every day of my Singaporean time. There is even a triangular shaped pool to the left that you can't see. But sadly, the price could not be negotiated to where we could do it. <br />
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Bye bye dream house. Hope someone treats you real good.</div>
Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-8926487802539897362013-08-05T02:26:00.002-04:002013-08-05T02:42:35.090-04:00We Were Sick, Tired, Hungry and... Lame<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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</xml><![endif]-->The jet lag/time difference seems to be a thing of the past
now, which means I have a little more energy to blog, but less time to actually
do so.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nonetheless, if I am going to
remember these first precious days, I need to get my fingers to the keyboard
and just do it already.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So allow me to
go backwards and fill in the week long blank.<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
On our second day here, we were still battling fevers in both
boys, which the Singaporean fever reducer just wasn’t helping so I sent KH off
with our sponsor to procure whatever pain reliever the Navy Exchange was
selling.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It takes a half an hour to get
there from our downtown hotel<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and our
sponsor also gave him a small tour, so the day was pretty much spent watching
cartoons, whining that he’s-touching-me-again, and trying not to let them sleep
too much past the regular nap time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
laid down, but only for an hour this time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Until KH got back, it was dark and late and we were in need of some real
food beyond chicken nuggets.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is a
hawker center across the street, so there was no time like the present to try
it. In my exhaustion, I forgot to take the camera so I have yet to photograph
it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What is a hawker center though?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think low lying building with colored picnic
tables in the middle and surrounded by tiny stalls of various Chinese, Indian
and Malaysian cuisines.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most stalls only
make a handful of dishes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>KH chose a
Malay soup with prawns that you have to fully de-shell <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">and </i>de-head.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
heavenly!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I chose for the boys and
myself the (arguably) most famous Singaporean dish, chicken rice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Umm… well… there is chicken.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There is rice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I am not really grasping the popularity
of the dish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The rice was plain, which
is fine as it was pretty much the only thing the boys would eat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the chicken was boiled and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">very </i>fatty.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It almost seemed a bit raw to my brain, but I
know it wasn’t, just the cooking method.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>There was a little broth with it, but that was about it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It also had a bean sprout dish with a sweet soy
sauce dressing on it, which was quite fresh and delicious and a clear soup of
chicken broth and cilantro that was also good and fresh, but really… I don’t
think there was much to this ‘famous’ dish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I was told by a Singaporean more recently that I need to get the roasted
chicken instead.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That could surely help,
but I think there are more interesting Malay dishes to be discovered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t force the kids much although I did
push the broth for their illnesses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
even got them a freshly squeezed sugar cane juice where they heat seal a plastic
lid on the plastic cup and still neither kid would drink a cup of sugar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They still fought me every step of the way,
so I gave up and just brought them back up to our room to watch the laser light
show that was going on all the roof of Marina Bay Sands Hotel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I bet the pilots coming in at night LOVE that
craziness in the sky.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTu8LVS3HpgQbnudwipFTOR5ag6QvkpO43N5Kb9eejLALQ4JnMIzjYadvRQy6kD2HLY9QwVlIpUyp15hWzQikRCHuFK7X-U6hNjlPRVWboTH0GDUFrJtnUaLmgL2QyipUiBPu6Q/s1600/020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpTu8LVS3HpgQbnudwipFTOR5ag6QvkpO43N5Kb9eejLALQ4JnMIzjYadvRQy6kD2HLY9QwVlIpUyp15hWzQikRCHuFK7X-U6hNjlPRVWboTH0GDUFrJtnUaLmgL2QyipUiBPu6Q/s320/020.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Nszp1EReLgGleofB2sqCp6G3y-OUm3L7m50Q6ucpCAldUhxd77atNqUNBCxZNmQBb4vNrv4i98Ykj0MGpqPWRcF3WFWc8tCXeNOSP2FxTcaOKF0cPNreEzdlYwzX-22gMnI50w/s1600/019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Nszp1EReLgGleofB2sqCp6G3y-OUm3L7m50Q6ucpCAldUhxd77atNqUNBCxZNmQBb4vNrv4i98Ykj0MGpqPWRcF3WFWc8tCXeNOSP2FxTcaOKF0cPNreEzdlYwzX-22gMnI50w/s320/019.JPG" width="213" /></a>After another fitful night of sleep for all, we all got up
around 4 a.m. and puttered until the pool opened.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At 8:00 a.m., we were the only ones there to
enjoy that massive pool.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bonus, it
helped bring the fevers down a smidge too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>For a few hours anyway.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmCgj-TZ9O99knqssYg7g2CIk-iAaRTksy-p-09KkIPKarFgcRs9JXutJyIIHYYB-JW9whYgXmaKyV1dURCVdxB1x-wvWuRUBWtyi093XtYhmvf-hWyHKC4O9DRJ8TEuJQiQRC9g/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmCgj-TZ9O99knqssYg7g2CIk-iAaRTksy-p-09KkIPKarFgcRs9JXutJyIIHYYB-JW9whYgXmaKyV1dURCVdxB1x-wvWuRUBWtyi093XtYhmvf-hWyHKC4O9DRJ8TEuJQiQRC9g/s320/016.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8gh2VHVTEvTReXVzGbnTEuImou0AyzrW_EqTanSpsQu2yprfEfNgDWJnm6CdCWdLNCm2g1tesZYYQLrVNGytgAYx-IOIo08cvEjStAorzywgZUZaJlLm-Ev49ndWriTHhxN5hA/s1600/034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo8gh2VHVTEvTReXVzGbnTEuImou0AyzrW_EqTanSpsQu2yprfEfNgDWJnm6CdCWdLNCm2g1tesZYYQLrVNGytgAYx-IOIo08cvEjStAorzywgZUZaJlLm-Ev49ndWriTHhxN5hA/s320/034.JPG" width="213" /></a>Changed and ready for the day, we decided to do a small excursion to Little
India, just so we weren’t all going stir crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>A quick cab dropped us right in the heart of the Sunday shopping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There was no solid plan except to take in the
sights.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I will go back and shop another
time, but the most we bought was an Indian Mango juice which was purely heaven
and all of us fought over the bottle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1FGLbz5JqwWDVvqDqISaSaRG-K3DVBlBqMpfZsHkZLuBGFJCZxNiVfmZZr_yrAPsXnrTzVIQTdDy6OJaKTnvo8Dxhd7CgjW2uoiG73vYl5HoTzH2JI_46YzJATgtQVs_xLr7rw/s1600/043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj1FGLbz5JqwWDVvqDqISaSaRG-K3DVBlBqMpfZsHkZLuBGFJCZxNiVfmZZr_yrAPsXnrTzVIQTdDy6OJaKTnvo8Dxhd7CgjW2uoiG73vYl5HoTzH2JI_46YzJATgtQVs_xLr7rw/s320/043.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
As
it was nearing lunch time, we made one final stop at an outside
restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Again the ordering was something
of a challenge, but we did get a chicken biryani which is a fragrantly spiced
basmati rice with a boiled and then fried egg and an intensely-spiced curry chicken
on the side.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once I got used to the
burning, I really enjoyed it! <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had
roti prata (a fried pancake of sorts) with another curry and a few chutneys
that ranged from fiery to rip-your-insides-apart levels of goodness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So far, we have discovered that the food here
is not for the weak-stomached.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
By Sunday night, we discovered that kids had more than just
fevers, but were now the proud new owners of another round of croup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is something we are no stranger to in
our house.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can hear a croup cough from
three floors, two loud televisions and a snoring husband away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And where there is croup, there is generally pneumonia
right behind for Kimono Sweet Pea.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of
course, this is Sunday afternoon and every medical clinic is closed, so unless
we wanted to locate an emergency room, there wasn’t a darn thing we could do
about it, but for me to snuggle the wee one in comfort while we all tried to
sleep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Monday found us rising in truly exhausted states, but we had
to go to the base for appointments to do some of the paperwork that will get us
settled here in a new country so we shoved ourselves in clothes and shoes and
lumbered zombie-like down to hail a cab.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>By the time we got back, the kids had to nap so I woke them with just
enough time to get them to the medical clinic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I feared the worst for this experience, but it turned out much better
than I could have ever expected.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
facilities, while small, are very modern and efficient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I signed the boys’ names in at the desk, and sat
down and waited until we were called, which was exactly 45 minutes as they had
promised when I signed in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They even
offered for us to go shopping in the attached mall until it was our time, but
there was no way we were dragging the kids anywhere.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They pretty much laid on me for 45 minutes while
everyone in the crowded waiting room pretended not to hear the whining or the
barking that would come from them every few minutes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Seriously?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>How can these people not even look down for the origin of that God-awful
sound?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If their head stood at attention
and only their eyes found us, I didn’t see it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We Americans surely would have shown a little more revulsion at the two
offending, little hackers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Upon seeing the doctor, she quickly put each of the boys on
a chair and did a quick check of everything and got their history.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She confirmed what I knew about both… Kimono Peanut
was almost over it, but KSP was on his way to pneumonia.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Shocker.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She asked what they normally would be given, of which few of those
medicines are given here in Singapore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>KP got one bottle of codeine cough medicine and KSP got three bottles
which would be collected right at the front desk as we pay and check out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Glorious!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I don’t have to do to a pharmacy too?!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>America – take note!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Now, we have
no Singaporean medical insurance so we pay up front and submit claims to our
carrier back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I expected to pay a
small fortune for this visit today, but was thrilled to find out that all visit
and medicines only cost me a little under $88!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That is cheaper than at home, by FAR!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We went straight to the room to give them the newly procured meds only
to discover one tiny tidbit… the medicines here do not contain any sort of kid’s
flavorings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While I am thrilled for this
as I don’t relish the thought of the added sugar or the chemical colors of home,
I didn’t consider that the black, inky medicine will not be taken as easily by
the child either as evidenced by KSP’s violent spitting and tongue thrusts to
shove the vile stuff back out.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That dear
sweet child continued to fight me for many more days of his medicine, when one
day he happily opened his mouth and ASKED for the medicine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What the hell was all the kicking and
screaming for then?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just to challenge
me?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We spent the next 48 hours in quarantine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I didn’t mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was darn tired.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was even more tired at 3 a.m. for three
nights in a row when KP kept bringing me oranges.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Peel this for my breakfast, mommy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>KID.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s
3 a.m. and pitch black out, hardly a breakfast hour.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get back in bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he did.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span>Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-87736008689448761792013-07-30T02:06:00.000-04:002013-07-30T05:49:46.415-04:00Singaporean Arrival<div style="text-align: left;">
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<![endif]-->Our flight arrived a few minutes early, getting us to our
new home a little past midnight on a Friday. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our sleepy driver who had the arrival time
wrong was sitting on a bench, with the sign that showed our names folded into
his lap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With sleep-deprived dazes on
our faces, we gazed around wondering what in the world to do with no one to
pick us up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I normally would have
panicked, but I didn’t even blink.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We
just stood there looking lost and stuck to the ground below us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In the end, I guess four Americans stick out
like a sore thumb at that time of night as our driver jumped to attention,
unfolded his sign and asked if the name was ours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He hustled the four of us, our eight bags,
two backpacks and one laptop bag out of the modern fluorescents all around us
and into the dark night.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
The air was a perfect balmy, tropical air.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not too humid or oppressive as I had
imagined, but Kimono Hubby quickly reminded me that it was verging on the
middle of the night and the morning sun was sure to bring the heat.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We climbed into the large van and both kids
promptly began asking about the missing seatbelts.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Under our breath, we explained that not all
countries use them, but we would make sure they stayed safe for the drive to
our new ‘home’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
Leaving the lights of the airport behind and through the
shadows, we began to see the outlines of trees emerge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It appeared like each tree was like an
umbrella, with the branches reaching up like the spokes of inside to support
the canopy of curved treetops.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The trees
made perfect sense knowing all the soaking rains this place gets and how each
leaf wants to collect as much water from each rain burst as quickly as they can
before the thick, jungle-like growth underneath soaks up the rest. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then of course, there were palm trees of every
shape and variety, my favorite being the fan palm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1K4dksglM5mNYjc9QpBXqjdaRC8-CevLf8NvbuKArHlQ5H79yt-XwG11l2RxSibeC9vSq4T5lb8v5ccCIMQpFkvTCm1IP0nRYPBQ5VZi13YrJzUNpdVggsh2GwclXDDwYPTDxjw/s1600/060.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1K4dksglM5mNYjc9QpBXqjdaRC8-CevLf8NvbuKArHlQ5H79yt-XwG11l2RxSibeC9vSq4T5lb8v5ccCIMQpFkvTCm1IP0nRYPBQ5VZi13YrJzUNpdVggsh2GwclXDDwYPTDxjw/s320/060.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheOpJtpIEwZuFWIv-iapmaYth3eNiZbujMtdCybOqB9sUQlDSeYoJKBaxaob8qhBLDzakzXzUEPcujz7b5vS2MdkgWu0Rzv-tWOfmfdE2-B83qa3jEvtkxypYGpzfC7p08YwkCng/s1600/048.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="133" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheOpJtpIEwZuFWIv-iapmaYth3eNiZbujMtdCybOqB9sUQlDSeYoJKBaxaob8qhBLDzakzXzUEPcujz7b5vS2MdkgWu0Rzv-tWOfmfdE2-B83qa3jEvtkxypYGpzfC7p08YwkCng/s200/048.JPG" width="200" /></a>It wasn’t long before we were in the true city limits and
the trees make way for skyscrapers of every size and color, but all equally
marvelous in their modernity.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Immediately recognizable were the Marina Bay Sands hotel, with what
looks like a boat parked on top of three sky-scrapping pillars. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They have an infinity pool that, even though I
fear it, I will have to try at some point.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Next to see was the Supertree Grove at Garden by the Bay, where these solar-powered
‘trees’ are lit up all in delicate lines of neon.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the lotus-shaped Singapore Museum
appears, designed to catch rain water in the huge bowl formed by the roof,
which will then power a central waterfall in the building and be filtered to
use in the bathrooms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ingenious!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everywhere we turn, the next modern wonder
challenges the last in interest and design.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKE_WQRmj41WzWA6wL4MdmFvoJNQVmfi14gXm-xQYoSvVrTKVDZIy0MXat2FsO_XhzBrHyyxgVEpUd3Mnww8JFhz3YZl-VcGIS_stbOsrWv3B6_MZ5qiiGe95svq0IV4ykkTk7cw/s1600/006.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKE_WQRmj41WzWA6wL4MdmFvoJNQVmfi14gXm-xQYoSvVrTKVDZIy0MXat2FsO_XhzBrHyyxgVEpUd3Mnww8JFhz3YZl-VcGIS_stbOsrWv3B6_MZ5qiiGe95svq0IV4ykkTk7cw/s320/006.JPG" width="320" /></a>When we arrive at our downtown hotel twenty minutes later, I
am <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">not even half as tired as I was when getting off the 20-hour flight. </span>After checking in though and getting all of
us into the room, it won’t be long until exhaustion claims us all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We still take a few moments to check out our
suite, which is waaaayyyy too high for my liking.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Like, I-get-ill-when-I-look-down high.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After a quick tour, it was all I could do to
get everyone showered and into bed before I fell there myself, only to wake a
mere three hours later with the sound of the kids roused and ready for the day.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4AbEHOTZsNOc14R8R2L1ZC8RMdmN-jad4mk3aJxxy7nBBbF0NhsRq9UM7-HHDuXj-gvWpOYSOvZHBzMFY0yOynCZdaK2CRNEKTqmCNoytDrbIHQVr2SplADEWdjfjFPPXg5EAg/s1600/010.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy4AbEHOTZsNOc14R8R2L1ZC8RMdmN-jad4mk3aJxxy7nBBbF0NhsRq9UM7-HHDuXj-gvWpOYSOvZHBzMFY0yOynCZdaK2CRNEKTqmCNoytDrbIHQVr2SplADEWdjfjFPPXg5EAg/s320/010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
Typically, my husband and I would have a lot more energy on
our first day to explore the new world around us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, we gave up all of our energy to tending
to the kids on the long trip here, so I must admit that our first day was
rather… lame.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Our hotel is connected to
one of the numerous large malls in the area, Great World City, and was chosen
for this purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Well, that and the
Olympic-sized swimming pool that we often seem to have all to ourselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was the mall that we went to in our
first hours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A mall complete with few
clothing or appliance stores we know of, but it did have a Starbucks and a
McDonalds.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This actually does me little
good as I don’t drink coffee and a happy meal only happens in this house when I
am desperate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even in our exhaustion, we
weren’t that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>desperate.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We choose a familiar site… plastic food in the
window and a thorough Japanese menu.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ahh…
tonkatsu, tempura, ramen, gyoza… just like home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That’s what happens when you live in Japan
longer than you lived anywhere else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
have no idea what ‘home’ food is to your family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But it was delicious and Kimono Peanut even
asked us, repeatedly, if we will take him there again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Kimono Sweet Pea didn’t care one way or
another.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He only cares that there is
rice, tofu and miso soup.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yep.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s messed up too.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
After lunch, we bought a transformer that was supposed to
power up our laptops and IPads.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All it
did was blow three fuses.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Gah.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And we stopped for Children’s Advil or
Tylenol as both kids developed fevers on the flight over and had downed the
rest of the bottle I had brought with me in an effort to get them both below
102.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Umm… they don’t use these medicines
here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They use something called Paracetamol?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I did come to find out it is commonly used in
England, but with a mom who has worked in a pharmacy all my life and my own
background in working in medical offices, I am surprised I have never heard of
it before.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Oh and no… it didn’t work
half as well as Advil.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
Then it was back to the hotel for what was supposed to be a
short nap for all before we get up and do more exploring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Five and a half hours later, I woke in a
panic.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All of us had slept the day
away!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Dual parenting fail on our part in
our efforts to start working on a normal schedule.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were supposed to go to a welcome reception
pool side at 6:30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was still bleary-eyed
when I showed up in whatever rumpled clothing I mangled out of my
suitcase.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I met some wonderful people
from all over the world, but I only remember the name of one.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A lovely and snarky British lady of whom I
will soon be found shopping with on Orchard Road.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(According to her, it’s THE place to shop,
with brands I can’t half pronounce, let alone afford, but I would love the
company outside of my impatient men for such an excursion!)</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
It was late when we returned to the room, not that it felt
like it to us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We got the boys back in
bed… and since it was verging on midnight again, KH went out to find food.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Most places were closed, but the front desk
directed him around the corner to a Malay/Muslim restaurant.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He laughed when he brought back dinner.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He said he had no way to order as even though
they speak English here, the dishes written in the menus under their
traditional names, so he just let them pick.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His description to me, “err… this is chicken, this one is chicken, and
this is some kind of soup likened to the Thai tom yum.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sounded good enough for me!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After my gums stopped burning, I brushed the
rawness away and crawled back to bed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
only slept for three short hours, but I’ll take what I can get at these early
stages and say a prayer that jet lag stops kicking me like a rag doll any day
now.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
24 Hours in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2 years
and 364 days to go.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But I’m pretty sure
I’m going to like it here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once I can
stay awake for more than a few hours anyway.</div>
Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-29129476469211844602012-12-06T12:08:00.004-05:002012-12-06T12:12:09.528-05:00Things My Husband Told Me About My New HomeMoving around comes with my husband's job. That moving has its pluses. And it has its minuses. We left Japan, found ourselves back in familiar Washington, DC and then were lucky enough to get to move to somewhat familiar Newport, RI for a year. This location couldn't have been more perfect. Not only are we in one of the most beautiful places in the United States, but we are also near my husband's family for the first time. We knew our time was limited here coming into it. As excited as I was about being in Newport, I have to admit that the next step has me a bit thrilled and a bit scared to death, all at the same time.<br />
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As you might have noticed from the new blog title, we are heading to Singapore! Far East Asia... and I mean about as far onto the opposite side of the Earth from our family and friends that you can get. Yikes.<br />
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What really freaked me out, beyond realizing how far my family would be for a few years, are the few initial facts my husband threw out to me on the fay we found out:<br />
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1. It shouldn't be a surprise if you see a massive monitor hanging out in the backyard. The kids will love that. I, on the other hand, just plain <i>don't</i>.<br />
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2. The international school is one of the best in the world. Which doesn't matter for another year, but we are <i>always</i> planning ahead for our children.<br />
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3. We are one degree away from the equator. Which equals damn hot. <br />
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4. There are two seasons - hot and monsoon. There goes all the compliments I receive on my hair.<br />
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5. The flight there is 13-14 hours from DC to Tokyo and another 6 hours on to Singapore. With two kids. Joy.<br />
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6. And this is the one that really made me jump up and down in excitement... we get to travel to yet more places I only dreamed I would ever see. Bali, India, Vietnam, Cambodia, Indonesia. Maybe even New Zealand if we feel up to a more than a few hours flight. There is a bridge off the island into Malaysia, so I guess we should count that as places I will visit too. Road tripping to Kuala Lumpur anyone?<br />
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7. There is air conditioning. Thank God.<br />
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And there is so much more to learn. So much more to come.<br />
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<span style="font-size: small;">FYI - I am working on some html coding issues right now. If you notice anything funky looking on whatever device/search engine you are viewing this post on, drop me a line! </span>Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-49349284231812232982010-12-07T16:20:00.002-05:002010-12-08T14:20:05.733-05:00A Long Overdue Goodbye to JapanAs anyone who read this blog on a regular basis in the past, you have probably already figured out that the big, sad move day has long come and gone. I sit here now physically settled in to our new home back in the United States, but far from mentally settled. Even with almost six months behind me on this side of the Earth, it still feels like we should be getting on a plane and heading home to Japan any moment. Obviously, I know this isn't going to happen. I know we are here. For good. Or whatever that means when a job really maintains the control of your physical locale.<br />
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Why haven't I written sooner? What can I say. I guess I just can't find the right words to say goodbye. Not to Japan or to this blog. Even my mother has been insisting that I get on the computer and say a few words. A few or many. We'll see how this plays out. I've written this post a hundred times in my head. Let's see what I can do with a keyboard finally.<br />
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So Washington, DC it is! Our nation's capitol! And, oh, how I haven't missed it. I know my issues have a lot to do with culture shock. Everything here is... well... thoroughly different from where we spent the last four years of our lives. These years, mind you, are where we spent the majority of our time as a couple. Where we built our life. Where we had our first child. Practically our entire joint history is wrapped up in a country that we don't actually belong to. But then it also feels like we don't belong here either, even as true born and bred Americans. Again, culture shock. It took me ten months when I moved to Japan to accept where I was and to actually enjoy (and love) being there. I guess I can only assume that it will take just as long to fall back in love with DC. But who are we kidding. It is highly unlikely that there will be any love flowing to DC from me, but I am hoping for sincere acceptance. For now I am just going to hold out hope that we get our next assignment and I get to move again before I develop any relatively solid positive or negative feelings for the current locale. Is that wrong of me? Maybe. But as I have said since we found out it was going to be DC, it is what it is. Moving on.<br />
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This post isn't about how I feel about DC anyway. I honestly haven't even really had the time to think much about my new locale anyway. MUCH has been going on. Oh so very much. Between shuffling around hotels, a lot of remodeling in our condo, buying cars and phones, unpacking from three separate shipments, address changes, catching up with old friends, and we found out the biggest news that we are expecting baby number two, who has time to fret? Ultimately, it's a very good thing for that last reason that we are back here in DC, where the doctors are amazing and can get me through whatever might come. But it still doesn't stop me from missing our beloved Japan.<br />
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With all of this going on, I do surprisingly find plenty of time to mourn the many things I miss about living in Japan. And I miss oh-so-many things! The good and bad. Although, if I made a pros and cons list about living in Japan, the pros continue to outweigh the cons when it comes to what's in my heart, but not so much in my head any more. Gotta be practical, right? Much of my family and friends have found this little revelation of where my heart lies to be rather... mystifying, I guess. But they never lived in Japan and many of them have never even lived out of the country. They never had a chance to experience an opportunity like that... to embrace it for everything it was worth. A chance to fall head over heals with a country so very different from the one they call home.<br />
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My incessant reflecting and reminiscing makes my head spin sometimes. All those little memories will forever and lovingly stay in my mind, but they sometimes drive me crazy as they refuse to acquiesce to my new/old home. It's hard, pretty much impossible, not to compare our life now to what it was just a few short months ago. Therefore, it is hard, pretty much impossible, not to be frustrated at some of the changes we have endured, particularly financially. Again, it is what it is, but it doesn't make me any less frustrated or heartsick at times when I think of my lovely life in Japan.<br />
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But this post again is not totally or truly about lamenting. It is about celebrating. It is about reflecting. It is about the things I miss most about my past home. Things like how there are no more massive shower rooms with extra controls for every kind of temperature and functionality. There are no more heated toilet seats and bidet stream, found in every single bathroom (even the public ones). Speaking of those bathrooms, there are no more spray seat cleaners in every stall. It's back to hovering for me. Tricky as the belly grows ever bigger.<br />
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There is no more big, lovely house to live in. No more quiet and perfectly safe neighborhood outside our front door. Our first week in our new/old home found a murder/suicide right across the street. We have no more yard to play in, filled year round with flowering trees and bushes that I swooned over. No longer can we walk down the street to our favorite neighborhood restaurant where we always were treated to something extra special (and free!) with every meal. Kimono Peanut is no longer swept into their arms and hugged, loved and shown off to everyone on the block, while we sat at our table knowing he was perfectly safe out of our sight for a few minutes. No longer do I have a neighbor who cooked for me when I was sick, took me places I would never find on my own, taught me so much about culture, cooking and the Japanese way of life, and loved me and protected me like a second mother would do. The beach is no longer a fifteen minute walk from my front door where I made weekly combing trips for shells, sea glass and sea pottery after a friend turned me on to it.<br />
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No longer are there ever patient and overly polite drivers on the road. It's back to obscene gestures, yelling and honking. When I use a turn signal here, it is virtually ignored. I miss how that signal was an instant sign for people to politely move out of the current lane and let you safely into the highway.<br />
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I miss my Ikebana classes with my amazing sensei and seriously and impressively talented classmates. I miss that the winter temperatures there average 40 and that isn't until February, whereas here it is already hitting the 20s, forcing me into early hibernation. I will miss the gorgeous cherry blossom season where it seems the entire world turns pink for a month in Japan. This year, there will be no more hanami parties, which find massive crowds gathered everywhere you look on those giant blue tarps. No strangers will hand me a sakura chu-hi I pass by them, just so I can raise a glass with them and toast the glory of that pink world that surrounds us. <br />
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No longer will I be able to buy sake in juice boxes or individual glass jars at any corner conbini. There is no more easily accessible shochu with which one can make those glorious chu-hi's. No more chu-hi stands, where fun and trouble always waited. We can't wander down the street outside our front door and ponder over whether dinner should be yakitori, yakiniku, shabu-shabu, okonomiyaki, tonkatsu, corn/potato/mayo pizza, or one of the myriad of other Japanese dishes I don't know what I will do without. We order from a boring, English menu now as we no longer have to guess what the presented plastic food or the picture is supposed to be. The novelty of eating out all seems rather dulled in the light of past adventures, if you ask me. I rather liked pointing randomly at whatever writing looks like the most fun for a serving of the perfect mystery dinner. We can even wear our shoes to enter a restaurant now, or a home, for that matter which just seems so... unsanitary. And I really miss the plethora of corner crepe stands, where ingredients like a tuna salad, hot dog and corn mix were just as popular as the fruit and cream variety of ingredients. No longer can I take a short walk to any corner to raid the waiting vending machines that always had the widest selection either hot or cold beverages, depending on the season and your fingertip needs. Who will make my mochi cakes and rice sweets and where in the world will I find azuki bean sweets?<br />
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There are those things that I didn't think I would miss because I had deemed them bad when I lived in Japan, and yet now they don't seem to be even half as abominable as I once made them out to be. The 14-hour flight to see family and friends in the states seemed a pain at the time and yet it is not so daunting anymore. On winter mornings in our house, we could see our breath in the air as it took some time before the different ways of heating a house in Japan warmed even a square foot up. This week, I've already come to discover that our first floor seems almost as cold in the mornings until the sun does its job and streams in the windows to help the central heating. This summer, we didn't deal with massive summer spiders, cockroaches and tiny fruitfly-like things in our house. Instead it was stink bugs. I think I will take back, at least, the spiders and cockroaches which were much easier to play the catch and release game. Sure, we had daily earthquakes in Japan and often the subsequent tsunami warnings, but it really was something we grew so accustomed to that it didn't bother us nor did we seem to even notice towards the later years. We no longer have typhoons, but they are essentially the same thing as hurricanes so we haven't gained or lost a thing here, have we?<br />
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In all my reflecting, there is really only one thing that I don't miss at all. not even a little bit. My beautiful, but pain-inducing, all white kitchen. Sure, it was overly dazzling with it's white tile counters and white marble floors, but it was a royal pain in the ass to clean and even worse to cook in. The sinks were much too low for a taller American like myself. Sure they were built for Americans, but they need to add yet another inch or two for my own stature. I hear from my old neighbor and friend that the American living there now is much shorter than me, so I am sure she finds it perfectly fine. But if this little glitch is all I can come up with for what I don't miss and didn't like about Japan, I would say my last four years there were one huge success.<br />
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So how do you then say goodbye to a place that seemingly, or at least to me, had only one flaw? How do you move on with life in another city, another country, another hemisphere? How do I find the gumption to leave that beloved past in the past? I'm not sure. But I will find out.<br />
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For now, though, all I can commit to is a perfunctory, halfhearted goodbye to Japan and my time spent pouring out my heart and mind in an online discourse to that country which I won't soon, or perhaps ever, see again.<br />
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Thank you Japan for everything you have given me. I am truly honored to have spent time getting to know you and love you.<br />
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Thank you all for reading and the occasions where you wrote to me. I am truly honored for your support and for the thoughts you have shared.<br />
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All that is left to say is... sayounara. Mata jiki ni ome ni kakaritai to omoimasu.Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-31307779822198711242010-06-28T01:51:00.001-04:002010-06-28T01:54:49.221-04:00One Night In TokyoI like vampires. I like Alice in Wonderland. I like beer. So what could be a better to celebrate my time here in Japan than a night in Tokyo with some dear friends at a few bars which are highly accommodating to these personalized likes? When it's time for celebrating, there is nothing like a good theme bar to make it a fun night.<br />
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We had our sights set on two spots in the Ginza area of Tokyo, the <a href="http://www.diamond-dining.com/vampire/">Vampire Cafe</a> and the <a href="http://www.diamond-dining.com/alice/">Alice in Wonderland Cafe</a>. I spent my day trying to reach someone at both locations who spoke English and could make my reservations. Of course, I had zero luck with this and only ended up annoying some people on the far end of the telephone line, but I was not to be deterred. I don't often beg for help from Japanese friends, but in this case I did. Of course, I only begged for help on one place, so that was all the help I got. But it did land us with a 9:00 pm reservation with the vamps.<br />
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Setting out at 6:00, we just hoped that the earlier hour would get our small group in with Lewis Carroll's funny friends. Armed with maps (in Japanese kanji), we got off at the Ginza stop and meandered the streets looking for our first destination. A few kind souls did stop and help us after I gave them my sad, pitifully lost face allowing us to finally take the elevator up to the tiny, well guarded entrance to the Wonderland Cafe. Sadly, all the effort was for nothing. A kind sir with his top hat, lapels and gold pocket watch could only share that they were completely full with reservations. Bah. Still, I was not to be turned away so quickly. Perhaps I wouldn't be dining and drinking down the rabbit hole that evening, but I was damn well sure that I would at least take a stroll in this strange world. Fortunately, our kind door rabbit was obliging, allowing us a quick peak around a room full of waitresses in blue and white pinafores, giant tea cups to sit in, and the many well-coiffed "Eat Me" treats that grace their strange menu. But this would have to be all we saw before we crawled back out of the rabbit hole. It's a shame too, because thanks to my English-to-Japanese translation book, I had learned to say "I take mushrooms occasionally." It's not that I do take mushrooms other than the garden variety kind (and even those I am squeamish about), but if the book provides the line, then it surely wants someone to say it, right? Ah well.<br />
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Back into the night air, we decided that in the available time prior to our later reservation, we would head back a block to the <a href="http://www.sapporoholdings.jp/english/company/lion/">Sapporo Lion Beer Hall</a>, which just so happens to be the oldest of such places in Japan, built in 1934. That means it survived the World War II bombings in Tokyo. This fact isn't so surprising once you step inside of this brick and mortar strong house and see the immense, Industrial-Gothic styled tiled columns strategically placed along the outskirts of the room. To the far end from the entrance is the most massive marble bar these eyes have ever seen with a glass tile mosiac showing the scantily clad harvesting crops and writhing in ecstasy. I read that in earlier, more modest days, these figures were covered with paper to preserve the patron's integrity. In these modernly promiscuous days, no one even blinks at the sight. I did take pictures of all this, but they are sadly trapped on my camera, which is refusing to communicate with the computer I am currently using. Alas. I will hopefully add them one day in the near future. <br />
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The food here. Ahh... so good. Beer and pub food in all its glory. Beef and potato croquettes and soft pretzels piled high on a stick are of my highest suggestion. There are a few German beers, but we mostly stuck with the namesake of the Ebisu Lion. Perhaps a beer hall was not the original theme plan of the night, but it proved to be more than satisfactory to our evening's activities.<br />
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As we did have one solid reservation, we paid our tab and headed back out into the ritzy streets of Ginza to find another bar surely hidden in some obscure corner of the neighborhood. We had a map. In Japanese. And we tried placing it into some sort of respect to the other two locations we had previously found, but it took us only moments to realize that with varying scales, we were just going to have to wing it from the single map provided by the destination. Once we figured out which tiny side street the map was showing, we just started walking. Only once did we stop and a man pointed us onward in the direction we had been heading. Either we were getting better at reading the maps or this place was easier to find, because it wasn't long before we were in the correct elevator.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_bCLg2JoOmcbbRlXdedtya3pJ6atj5QQPuopEWiq7k5-u2mijzv9r-MX755SLI54DiDlvrQmf5f8okVaVwXB0kjqTi13fWSw6_0FYcBjFoG9wemkTYWWiVpgjNFhSOkkRe5NRw/s1600/IMG_0600.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjD_bCLg2JoOmcbbRlXdedtya3pJ6atj5QQPuopEWiq7k5-u2mijzv9r-MX755SLI54DiDlvrQmf5f8okVaVwXB0kjqTi13fWSw6_0FYcBjFoG9wemkTYWWiVpgjNFhSOkkRe5NRw/s320/IMG_0600.JPG" /></a></div>When exiting the elevator, an evil laugh from the darkness made us all jump. Turns out those cheesy Halloween props can still support their original purpose of the quick thrill. Thick velvet drapes line all the walls, obscuring whatever was beyond the entryway and, later, whatever was occurring in those private booths. The floor glowed with red platelets until you pass into a main room where tables rest directly over coffins long coated in dripped red wax from the candelabras placed upon them. Skulls and spiderwebs graced corners here and there. Little Lolita waitresses in black and white french maid outfits scurried to the several hidden tables while Baroque music made the vibe a little more classic than cheesy Goth. (The one picture here is courtesy of dear friend and fellow vampire bar lover Davida, who, unlike myself, can make her camera and computer talk to each other.)<br />
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My purpose was solely to drink some blood. Not the real stuff, mind you, because EW. But that menu was sure to have something that looked enough like it to satisfy my sick curiousity. The care is mainly a ritzy eating establishment, but since we had already partaken in several courses prior, we stuck with ordering dessert. A chocolate creme cake with bat wings and red glazing spilled around it was perfectly adorable while the chocolate and berry dessert pizza was so-so good to me. The drinks were still where my mind was at.<br />
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First drink. Some creamy type juice, made lychee, mixed with a lot of I-don't-know and a shot of a thick red berry juice served on the side which you poured in. It was tasty. Especially for not knowing what we were drinking. For the steep cost, there was surely alcohol in it, but our taste buds must be withered from our years of adult beverages because we didn't taste or feel a thing. For the second shot, we went with a clearer red cocktail with lots of crushed ice and tiny rose petals on top. Again, we have no idea what we were drinking. I guess there was alcohol. Again, the price would make one assume. But the flavor was so beyond odd for a drink, that it took me a bit to finish it off. If I had to nail down a flavor, I would say it was like drinking your grandma's antique rose perfume water. I guess vampire are big on the luxe and the roses, but I'm doubting any self-respecting vampire would drink the red beauties. Of course, I made a further mistake by ordering the thick red-looking shot on the side... something that turned out to be like an intense bloody mary. Please do me a favor and never mix your roses and tomatoes together. It's just wrong. And your stomach will fault you for your stupidity at some point in the hours later.<br />
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While it wasn't one of the Tokyo theme bars I totally fell in love with, I'm always up for enjoying some strangeness. If this hadn't been a goodbye to Japan night, I would totally go back again. Perhaps many years in the future.<br />
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Neither me nor my friends relish the idea of sleeping in the train station for the night, so we made sure to catch the next-to-last train back to Zushi. You always plan for the next-to-last which gives you that tiny cushion in case you miss it. Many a business man has made the mistake of thinking they can make it from the bar to that last train and, after missing it, end up lying in wait for the 5:00 am train on the cold, dirty tile of some subway station using their briefcase as a makeshift pillow. I hated to think of my pretty Coach bag being put into such an incommodious position. Especially when my Serta Memory Foam pillow waited at home for me. Damn, I'm getting old.Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-18395093668943819132010-06-25T04:32:00.000-04:002010-06-25T04:32:20.377-04:00Combing Hayama BeachBy far one of my favorite goofing off activities in Japan has come to be beach combing on Hayama Beach. This is a pretty recent pastime too. It all started a few months ago when I finally got a chance to see some jewelry art that a friend here creates. She had told me years ago that she worked with sea pottery and I think I did a general head nodding as if I had a clue as to what she was referring. I didn't. Not until I saw her beautiful display. For someone that is fascinated with blue and white Japanese pottery (I have quite the collection) as well as by those perfectly rounded and buffed pieces of blue and green sea glass you are occasionally lucky enough to find on any foreign shore, the discovery of a sea pottery in the same earthy, rubbed state is enough of a combination to make my head perpetually swoon. <br />
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Add this love of mine with my child's love to constantly be out of doors and you have a natural winner of a day.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLqgaYWLwPPT0H0EwOyuPWL8qciZ3RfsQsEQeOfcv3PL24_Z2mNw15kZAGdUA9KL-qv2FqTXIQtw3lF9kPvJPRG_nAJcqRK_HRrqSI51nYbXRzFZI6okX3C1N2k0Nqo6rjl_ZfVg/s1600/hayamabeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLqgaYWLwPPT0H0EwOyuPWL8qciZ3RfsQsEQeOfcv3PL24_Z2mNw15kZAGdUA9KL-qv2FqTXIQtw3lF9kPvJPRG_nAJcqRK_HRrqSI51nYbXRzFZI6okX3C1N2k0Nqo6rjl_ZfVg/s200/hayamabeach.jpg" width="150" /></a>It's not that I taught him to pick out these pottery pieces in the midst of thousands of bits of shells and rocks, but he, in all his toddler eagerness to help, is all too happy to sort through the jumble under our feet. He uncannily knows what I am looking for. While he may not get me the prized blue and white pottery pieces that I look for, he does pick out quite a handful of gorgeous all-white pieces for me to sort through. I'm not saying my kid is a genius, but for someone that goes into a hourly state of near ecstasy when he finds a good rock, I'd say this is an impressive eye for sorting good shards from the rest of the litter for a wee one.<br />
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The legend of this pottery, found everywhere and everyday on Hayama Beach and parts of Kamakura beaches, is that sea vessels long ago ship wrecked in the area found their pottery sunken with them. The pieces have taken hundred of years rolling along the depths until they have washed up, perfectly weather, on today's sandy shores. It's a good story, but I'm not sure I am a believer. I'm thinking maybe the housewives who accidentally break a piece of china here or there, take it down to the cliffs and toss it over just so they don't have to do yet another sorted bag in that week's recyclables. I kid. Kind of. Whatever the reason for its appearance, I'm just so very glad it does. And so is Peanut.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioiekyhVYLED9EMQ0cLnmJQwzVg37xMKgEDGSdcOhGSOzmbn8oUXlfl1OvaT78KQEFVbfT7sZqCZBmrNr7TmTHQPzo3leZ01CbQywWlF7IVZDmtpaHWiwkSMVCiqp6BCBAKH7J1g/s1600/hayamabeach2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioiekyhVYLED9EMQ0cLnmJQwzVg37xMKgEDGSdcOhGSOzmbn8oUXlfl1OvaT78KQEFVbfT7sZqCZBmrNr7TmTHQPzo3leZ01CbQywWlF7IVZDmtpaHWiwkSMVCiqp6BCBAKH7J1g/s320/hayamabeach2.jpg" /></a></div>Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-79120764141249199222010-06-24T01:18:00.000-04:002010-06-24T01:18:42.020-04:00Misty Mornings Spent at Kamakurayama's Rai Tei<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9S_gZTxKMzdYn2PgauGYhg7nZiyq5iF0O2ervXgl58W9Sec850sMod4sbw1M-2sUjf2iSljCZFQu82-4C2nOw4pB8gaTGM41qyCJhqMd7yrinIIA5Eaz6ftOMuSTtzu6iBI_kQ/s1600/IMG_6129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ9S_gZTxKMzdYn2PgauGYhg7nZiyq5iF0O2ervXgl58W9Sec850sMod4sbw1M-2sUjf2iSljCZFQu82-4C2nOw4pB8gaTGM41qyCJhqMd7yrinIIA5Eaz6ftOMuSTtzu6iBI_kQ/s200/IMG_6129.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>In the essence of our continuing goodbyes, our neighbor planned one more magnificent outing for us to share together. Hidden in the mountains around the city of Kamakura is a place called Rai Tei. On this misty, warm June morning, it was the perfect place for spending time reflecting on Japan and the many friendships we have made here.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheImAiSnxqjnmZiywkNvPxdbjR1wTVhSs4lyuhkvj7H_Rzy_K-hABJlUltss205hKHTT8nCmH7V4xYjU-WSw3B9x5Ka1EcD1K6g_-Df4BScMkdx9lDJzpGDurSaX3FgZeZ49WaVQ/s1600/IMG_6128.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheImAiSnxqjnmZiywkNvPxdbjR1wTVhSs4lyuhkvj7H_Rzy_K-hABJlUltss205hKHTT8nCmH7V4xYjU-WSw3B9x5Ka1EcD1K6g_-Df4BScMkdx9lDJzpGDurSaX3FgZeZ49WaVQ/s200/IMG_6128.JPG" width="200" /></a>A little history of this place with the majestic views of Kamakurayama begins with its establishment in 1928 as part of a Japanese resort cottage subdivision, but in 1969, the owner converted it into a soba (buckwheat noodle) and traditional cuisine restaurant. The main building was actually constructed during the Edo period and relocated to its current site as a residence for a wealthy farming family from nearby Yokohama city. The entrance gate, San-mon, was erected in 1642 formerly at the Juen-zan Koshou-ji Temple in the Kamakura area, but when the temple was relocated to a different prefecture in 1931, the gate was erected here at Rai Tei. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaS8i5kJZFDY8eO_efuL8FxuVeFxZBMKegmihfQ5GQ2rDk_WvvuTV0Wih25JwGY2SmnpVcdeuijGirkcJ75W-UEfQNY00jq1_3yf8luHIzm2U-CEBpbFID2w0Ssse0z6SY9wzKQ/s1600/IMG_6083.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyaS8i5kJZFDY8eO_efuL8FxuVeFxZBMKegmihfQ5GQ2rDk_WvvuTV0Wih25JwGY2SmnpVcdeuijGirkcJ75W-UEfQNY00jq1_3yf8luHIzm2U-CEBpbFID2w0Ssse0z6SY9wzKQ/s200/IMG_6083.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixp9AZqnm4vixVV6eP7cvNcGjPNmKPeHyKHxapHP1jA4G5kkn35YHL6T2P8zJPHMXSpCFZ-4TgwWtaILNnSN_GO9R8i8tKWHqFucWRQFO-KxB1gFHQBW64W1IQAMIe-LP82HirYA/s1600/IMG_6101.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixp9AZqnm4vixVV6eP7cvNcGjPNmKPeHyKHxapHP1jA4G5kkn35YHL6T2P8zJPHMXSpCFZ-4TgwWtaILNnSN_GO9R8i8tKWHqFucWRQFO-KxB1gFHQBW64W1IQAMIe-LP82HirYA/s200/IMG_6101.JPG" width="150" /></a>While the building and gate are extraordinary, it is the gardens here that I am in awe of. A circuit-style garden covering approximately 50,000 square meters has views of everything from Buddha sculptures to 5-storied pagodas to nature in all its incredible glory. On a clear day, Mt. Fuji will even make her surreal appearance over the mountains' treetops. Of course, our drizzly day would not allow for that kind of long-distance view, but I was contented enough by simply basking in the cool breezes of the bamboo groves. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPT_DhgtMg1GdA8OxprQsW_fb66CppVO09saXpHbEKQ-eEuDbh-odIuiFDxznLBiSbGxfPhWolWOHyNqylckTMF9PIJtuZ39uZSezZo1aaZVTZi3rxrk-pEHgZEm66X4gI7mMkGw/s1600/IMG_6124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPT_DhgtMg1GdA8OxprQsW_fb66CppVO09saXpHbEKQ-eEuDbh-odIuiFDxznLBiSbGxfPhWolWOHyNqylckTMF9PIJtuZ39uZSezZo1aaZVTZi3rxrk-pEHgZEm66X4gI7mMkGw/s200/IMG_6124.JPG" width="150" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4FavHDetHbzprpfyWFAfOtxXGZQSeHzUPZT5w-Kl-5_Do3riBMsNQchWUImHrObFIe9cS4wcIyVIB5MIbZxsQg_qJPSeJJd8sbBoctScO9uZ6nz0ShDo45DJh9s5Agh1g3vpUTg/s1600/IMG_6095.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4FavHDetHbzprpfyWFAfOtxXGZQSeHzUPZT5w-Kl-5_Do3riBMsNQchWUImHrObFIe9cS4wcIyVIB5MIbZxsQg_qJPSeJJd8sbBoctScO9uZ6nz0ShDo45DJh9s5Agh1g3vpUTg/s200/IMG_6095.JPG" width="150" /></a>Our friend held the hand of Kimono Peanut as he happily, despite it being somewhat laborious for his shorter legs, climbed up and down the moss-covered rock paths. He remained his usual cheerful self, that lives to be out-of-doors every moment he possibly can, and waved hello to every single passerby, even when one small group forced him so far off the narrow pathway that he slide down a steep, wet incline into the tall grasses and mud of forest around him. Not a tear did he shed, as he dusted off and continued dragging our friend onward.</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Also eager to try the food after our little hike, we found a table next to the window where we could peer out into garden and beyond into the misty mountains. We took off our shoes and sat down on the tatami mat in front of the low table, a table which turned out to be several hundred years old. While it has surely stood the test of time, I was extra cautious to keep my wee boy, known for his awesome pounding skills, a bit further back from it than I normally would. Soba is generally one of KP's favorite meals, but sadly on this day, he couldn't sit still long enough to eat for the life of him. We each had a plate of soba and tempura, but I am sorry to report that I didn't spend much time tasting what I was eating and instead wolfed it down in my best effort possible to get KP out of there before the neighboring tables or the establishment threw him out. He was all too thrilled when we put his shoes back on him and left him run out the door and back into the gardens. If it hadn't been for a heavier rain coming down, we would have tried to spend more time meandering, but as it was, we decided to head back before we were all drenched. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAp3azsTO4RWcXGksT9Pg6UVMYliQdP5hmP9qOs9P2C3vfNkXFm4zksAS_xf-l5QU4wSRwixSUlibB1j_FTLFuhF_P0TFlMV9AaNkXxMdqIl1t2-emag2sg4zHe8VAb65Skt83g/s1600/IMG_6120.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaAp3azsTO4RWcXGksT9Pg6UVMYliQdP5hmP9qOs9P2C3vfNkXFm4zksAS_xf-l5QU4wSRwixSUlibB1j_FTLFuhF_P0TFlMV9AaNkXxMdqIl1t2-emag2sg4zHe8VAb65Skt83g/s200/IMG_6120.JPG" width="150" /></a>As we headed home, all I could think about was how much I wish we could have visitors, particularly my mom, in Japan one more time. Because this is the kind of place that my Japanese dreams are made of.</div>Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-88931837478672222902010-06-11T01:22:00.000-04:002010-06-11T01:22:52.857-04:00Roving About Enoshima IslandIf there is one thing the guide books miss telling you about Enoshima Island, it is that it is one helluva hike. This is the exact sticking point that, even if I had known, I wouldn't have shared with Kimono Hubby. Since the arrival of the Peanut and his ever growing size, he tends to avoid all day long outings in Japan that require him to carry said heavy burden up and down numerous flights of stairs. He still likes to throw the Korean infiltration tunnel in my face whenever their is a discussion about hiking with KP at our sides. But I wanted to visit <i>all</i> of Enoshima Island instead of the glimpses along the edge that I had previously partaken.<br />
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So a-hiking we all went. <br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlHMkXB3ELExxvKV5Hq9SRiS352qQqa5CR1OJqzWW2hixKWJKejSwiFlOl6ZGCdO8eF1BxwmGlPFIdW0U0COJBIVWqdPbnjyhJqK2QUj4sAXuJc2hatZTzPBKa-7tYAjIMQTFZQ/s1600/IMG_6019.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUlHMkXB3ELExxvKV5Hq9SRiS352qQqa5CR1OJqzWW2hixKWJKejSwiFlOl6ZGCdO8eF1BxwmGlPFIdW0U0COJBIVWqdPbnjyhJqK2QUj4sAXuJc2hatZTzPBKa-7tYAjIMQTFZQ/s200/IMG_6019.JPG" width="150" /></a><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKZjmBsoX0T0eZ2FYbvMJ216_-xKewemC0O7Gn5Hs7iXaCR7HrKquzYUAULLo4k6ZJFYYsoXwn_R2EH0Esz6YuxtIhKHP7uddKYMELRv16oC6CTZvT-On2zrvOk5ylCe2AeyAOdw/s1600/IMG_5957.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKZjmBsoX0T0eZ2FYbvMJ216_-xKewemC0O7Gn5Hs7iXaCR7HrKquzYUAULLo4k6ZJFYYsoXwn_R2EH0Esz6YuxtIhKHP7uddKYMELRv16oC6CTZvT-On2zrvOk5ylCe2AeyAOdw/s200/IMG_5957.JPG" width="200" /></a>Starting off the stroller managed to go from the parking lot, up the tiny stretch of the main street and was sadly left behind at the foot of (God bless!) an escalator! It took us up the fist stretch where we strolled around a temple and watched people do figure eights in and out of a circle. I'm sure it has something to do with luck or health, but I didn't look it up. We took in the view and then headed for the next stretch of escalators. There were to be two more and we would be to the lighthouse on the top of the island.<br />
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Arriving at this level, we saw the botanical gardens' entrance in front of us, but being more interested in the lighthouse that looked as if it was somewhere in the distance behind the garden, we passed by it. Only then did we discover that the next stairwell went down, down, down. And then around. Great vistas surrounding us, but on this hot and humid June day, we didn't quite care to stop and look at this point except perhaps to take a moment and catch our breath. Our mission was solidly the lighthouse and the rest be damned.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhCH9EmNmENFvLhhPEAil1S3XvxXKYU7McCg4_NCMJ5CqWZYMbVwcAkNwIWvCFZZ09H8dSk1hPZj9nyh-8u1icRQRcl4ctfneuPRlyXBz8vyaMXzyKkea5QD7_f_RIgSeAT4nvQ/s1600/IMG_5973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhCH9EmNmENFvLhhPEAil1S3XvxXKYU7McCg4_NCMJ5CqWZYMbVwcAkNwIWvCFZZ09H8dSk1hPZj9nyh-8u1icRQRcl4ctfneuPRlyXBz8vyaMXzyKkea5QD7_f_RIgSeAT4nvQ/s200/IMG_5973.JPG" width="150" /></a>After several more flights up and down, we realized that the lighthouse was either a figment of our imagination or just very far behind us. We could only assume that the entrance had to have been inside the botanical garden. Looking back at all those stairs up and down, up and down behind us though, there was no way we were going back. Onward, we went.<br />
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But just where were we going? We had consulted the map, but honestly not very closely. If we had, we might have seen that there really was no wrap-around pathway on the island. Those stairs up and down that we had been climbing, we would be climbing them again in our near future.<br />
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Where we did eventually end up was the very far end of the island. I know the island is only 4 kilometers long, but when it is up and down and all around, that adds a whole lot of clicks to the total calculation.<br />
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The sad part of the walk on this particular day is that the big draw for dragging your cookies the whole way over to this far side of the island is to get this majestic, uninhibited view of Mt. Fuji. Guess what? Like 80% of the other days in Japan, it was too hazy to see Fuji-san. For as large as the mountain is, she really does know how to hide herself away from the public eye.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgboY8P1PLt-m7cL4wTBBqutjUBLlufpraplvbAP4K-mS6nKjLyQ-pu3X6G0Hfp278sYVpmDDHPsyqXaIP0A4uGtY_YC3V-k1f_7l2fbNXh8dkkoXAp6bCc7zGHPPSBBFGZs8hpLg/s1600/IMG_6003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgboY8P1PLt-m7cL4wTBBqutjUBLlufpraplvbAP4K-mS6nKjLyQ-pu3X6G0Hfp278sYVpmDDHPsyqXaIP0A4uGtY_YC3V-k1f_7l2fbNXh8dkkoXAp6bCc7zGHPPSBBFGZs8hpLg/s200/IMG_6003.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>As if all this tramping and climbing hadn't reminded KH enough about that tough day back in Korea, we came to the very end of the pathway which lead into two ancient caves. Two caves of which you needed to bend down very low and not burn your dangling hair or the babe in your arms with the only source of light you had, a tiny candle, which was handed to you on the way in. When it got to the hardcore ducking, KH and KP stayed behind while I continued deeper into the mountain. I will add here that the signs about earthquakes and subsequent tsunamis as you walk along the rocky outposts in this area did make me a little more nervous as I was deep inside of this cavernous mountain. A tip: If you take the hike in yourself, try not to think about this fact whilst meandering in the mountains deep, dark core.<br />
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Once out of the caves, we consulted with another map and began to come to grips with the fact that the reverse walk was going to be just as bad. Our footwear choice for the day, flip-flops, was also bemoaned as we began the trek back. And yet again, my breakfast of champions, my daily Diet Coke, was not enough to get me through this. We aimed to, at least, get ourselves past the entrance to the botanical gardens before pausing for lunch, but at the peaks of one of the stairwells, Kimono Peanut began to dilly dally his walking efforts and perform his tired stance (the one where he stands on his head), we realized we would have to stop sooner rather than later. The choices along this route were excellent had it been just the two adults. Lost of fresh seafood shown in the ever-present plastic displays, but this would not work for a ever-more-picky toddler. When we passed a soba and tempura place that overlooked the ocean, we jumped at the chance to get our kid some plain noodles. It also helped that the place was not yet crowded so if he did have a meltdown, there were a whole lot less witnesses to it. Meltdown, he did. Eat, he did not. The quickly eaten meal provided just enough energy for us to carry KP up and down and around those last stairwells. Remember the escalators coming up? How helpful they were in spurts? Well, there ain't nothing like that going down except for the volition in your own two legs. When we finally got back to the stroller, the sun, the heat and the sweat was quickly ending our day. We never did stop at the lighthouse on the way back. The first issue was that we still weren't sure how to get into it, but the second was that it looked like it was another 500 stairs to the top, and there wasn't a chance in hell I was going to convince either of the boys with me that we should climb to the top just to take in the view.<br />
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We had also read that one of the shrines on the island held one of the few naked sculptures in Japan. She apparently is a shrine for praying for success in entertainment and many actors and actresses visit her for help in their own fame and fortune. We visited each of the shrines, but I somehow missed her too. Oh well. I didn't plan on being in the entertainment industry anyway. I'm not sure that either KH or KP would agree, but just the vast island roving we had done was enough to satisfy me.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzbZJPig7daq_RqyaHt3wKUXqvEIR4h5yAwwFPJfVzHS7uZcE4oyt4hIm3d3ytcZyjLjU3R9A1DfCK5nZ_8VibRO1v0t_CvRrVcZv4dFDea3vl3CNflAeQYekltjVIl99kjUagcg/s1600/IMG_5947.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzbZJPig7daq_RqyaHt3wKUXqvEIR4h5yAwwFPJfVzHS7uZcE4oyt4hIm3d3ytcZyjLjU3R9A1DfCK5nZ_8VibRO1v0t_CvRrVcZv4dFDea3vl3CNflAeQYekltjVIl99kjUagcg/s200/IMG_5947.JPG" width="150" /></a>Shopping in the bottom, main street area looked like fun, but with only a few weeks left here, I am realizing that there is really nothing left in which I really want to buy. We snacked on what looked like some unassuming potato balls and rice cakes, only to realize that the island's specialty of those tiny white/silver fish with the big black eye on the end were the main ingredient. You couldn't taste them really, but just seeing that black eye floating in the middle of the creamy cheese substance in the middle of the ball was a bit too much for me. The flat cake-like thing was surprisingly even worse, more so because of the gummy texture than even teh black eyes staring up at you.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXpsF8Lj5eNGkS5inF8mI8R6EJP5MC8VfRFk8QQ0HRJoqJ3Yd6nHUpswsGAo8FQJfaCsCaXi5AbaWDKrzY0fF1LhE0m_gGZRCJUJDv5k60iq6NnRlsygy8Unct2JelAElBK1uDhg/s1600/IMG_5943.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXpsF8Lj5eNGkS5inF8mI8R6EJP5MC8VfRFk8QQ0HRJoqJ3Yd6nHUpswsGAo8FQJfaCsCaXi5AbaWDKrzY0fF1LhE0m_gGZRCJUJDv5k60iq6NnRlsygy8Unct2JelAElBK1uDhg/s200/IMG_5943.JPG" width="200" /></a>Also cooking in front of several locations were chefs hard at work on conch, clams, oysters and squid on the grill. Kimono Hubby had learned his lesson on the conch a few weeks ago at the Marine Park, but he felt that the clams might be a safe bet. He was wrong. Again, he bought two thinking I would be having one, again <i>after </i>I had already told him I was set on getting apple-mango ice cream, so he ended up eating both big, chewy clams. As I watched him, I swirled down an Enoshima beer, the perfect top off on this hot day. Insisting that he had to remove the clam taste from his mouth, KH backtracked to get himself an ice cream cone.<br />
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We meandered the outskirts of the island a bit more, gazing out at the sea to watch the myriad of boats on the horizon. A line of cars had snaked itself onto the island and now sat in the hot sun waiting for one of the limited parking spots to open up. They probably sat there with the typical serene Japanese patience, but I felt guilty watching the line never grow any shorter. On top of that, it was way past someone's naptime and he was showing signs of physical wear, so we headed back to our car and made our way off the island. Of course, driving down Route 134 on a summer day is a test in patience all by itself. It took us over an hour to get back, a second reminder of how glad we were that we headed to the island super early that morning. <br />
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And let me tell you, those guide books won't tell you about that traffic either.Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-44205433319556279782010-06-10T00:20:00.000-04:002010-06-10T00:20:25.004-04:00Japanese Peculiarities #11If there is one thing I know about, it is junk mail. I truly say this in the most loving way. Prior to my charades in Japan, I spent many, many hours, days and years creating it. Of course, the much nicer name is 'direct mail'.<br />
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This isn't one of those careers that you choose. It chooses you. If you are lucky enough, like I was, you fall in love with it. No joke, but I used to look forward to checking my mailbox to see if there were any cool letters and ideas in there that I could replicate, or better, one-up, for my clients. As you can imagine, this made me extremely curious to see what would show up in my Japanese mailbox. Would I be able to use any of these new finds from my foreign box and translate them into something grand in that past/future career? <br />
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There answer has been a resounding no. I have spent four years checking through the stacks in my mailbox here and there ain't nothing half as cool as what we created at my old agency.<br />
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First of all, unless it is a bill or a statement, they rarely bother with envelopes. This makes perfect sense in a culture where sorting trash for its particular recycling day is a huge issue. Why give more to throw out when the goal is ultimately less to throw out. The problem is that one of the coolest parts was the envelope. There is so much that can be done with an envelope! I know I am sounding like a huge dork here, but I am dead serious. In direct mail, if the envelope isn't cool and appealing for the appointed audience, then you fail from the get go. They never open it and you never get your message across. In Japan, with no envelope and a writing of which the average American like myself can't read, you are left with nothing more than a chaotic-looking flier. On top of that, they are rarely even folded like a real letter is. Although, I won't complain on this note as I would just have to unfold them to put them into the tied recycling pile.<br />
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And that below is exactly what I pull out of my mailbox on a daily basis. A big old mess that I leaf through and then throw directly into the recycling bin. I dare one of my previous coworkers to make something out of this week's worth display. Please do let me know if you find something... and I promise to steal the idea from you too.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEG9SRqW7BRd8Rqsyi9acic-T0YB0RfdVrNJ6yEg63EK79KBmZTsh41lxxx7luqC12M6SEwKKM81Up2Rk1cBaB2PLQB6bpYcrjf6DiqCsoRMNN71-twEryAR524n4akU2XwGHjKg/s1600/IMG_4205.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEG9SRqW7BRd8Rqsyi9acic-T0YB0RfdVrNJ6yEg63EK79KBmZTsh41lxxx7luqC12M6SEwKKM81Up2Rk1cBaB2PLQB6bpYcrjf6DiqCsoRMNN71-twEryAR524n4akU2XwGHjKg/s320/IMG_4205.JPG" /></a></div>Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-2531253735767171512010-06-09T01:42:00.000-04:002010-06-09T01:42:29.271-04:00Last Ikebana Class<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I haven't talked much about any Ikebana that I have created lately mostly because I have only been creating it at home. Without proper sensei supervision, I don't want to call it Ikebana and show it to the world. Lately, the art form has been strictly something for me to enjoy, in my own, limited spare time, more than trying to master the craft. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbmNfliKy8MJTGH3YPWofGugXP3lqfy8Pdw1iB2G43QPlaUbUb1ND8eyRNFqxMt7ViBOj75knW7iONqTz6AF6Y21PCO2RXROkmF_tdDZxL3QNUk-PCDOxJp78Ll9tROJPx77l1g/s1600/IMG_5901.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIbmNfliKy8MJTGH3YPWofGugXP3lqfy8Pdw1iB2G43QPlaUbUb1ND8eyRNFqxMt7ViBOj75knW7iONqTz6AF6Y21PCO2RXROkmF_tdDZxL3QNUk-PCDOxJp78Ll9tROJPx77l1g/s200/IMG_5901.JPG" width="150" /></a>However, Ikebana is one of the things in my life here in Japan that had to give a proper goodbye to. Last week, I emailed the best English speaker in the class and asked her if I could stop by for a visit. Not wanting to disturb the class and knowing that I would have to bring Kimono Peanut with me as class is on a Friday afternoon and all the other supervising grown-ups are working, I promised I would keep it short, all the while keeping up a quiet hope that they would ask me to stay. Of course, they did. The Japanese are overwhelming welcoming, if you ask me. The responding email was filled with friendly insistence that I stay for a final class <i>with</i> the Peanut and then join everyone for a farewell luncheon. </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFJTYBmHeKlA6q9h-y0McUu0wbKM5Iz-YRazXNyCRLQ5FqSdcdvwGCkV665_k5XUEKJRZjwL840b67TvnyZn7cCe7kz6DfbjhpbSDJqfflXrrF1C7d40CskjggW8NsVSNP1EgtQ/s1600/IMG_5911.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFJTYBmHeKlA6q9h-y0McUu0wbKM5Iz-YRazXNyCRLQ5FqSdcdvwGCkV665_k5XUEKJRZjwL840b67TvnyZn7cCe7kz6DfbjhpbSDJqfflXrrF1C7d40CskjggW8NsVSNP1EgtQ/s200/IMG_5911.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbJPIRRbAICPzWxb6NukORaoBR51SjCzU3Amal_-HQEEHOXflwzO-eFAM9Ga9GVS-CCzbqhl-2M0EmPFRL09uEvDW-DfV0EGgj5G1eHIOU1UAIUEZ_Brm-c2-h0hcdvojp9n1ew/s1600/IMG_5913.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpbJPIRRbAICPzWxb6NukORaoBR51SjCzU3Amal_-HQEEHOXflwzO-eFAM9Ga9GVS-CCzbqhl-2M0EmPFRL09uEvDW-DfV0EGgj5G1eHIOU1UAIUEZ_Brm-c2-h0hcdvojp9n1ew/s200/IMG_5913.JPG" width="200" /></a>I was so excited about the day that I ended up being forty-five minutes early. Anyone who knows me, knows that early is <i>not </i>my thing. I was nervous about having my curious toddler in a room full of pretty flowers to rip apart, but he was amazingly well behaved after only one small meltdown, when I insisted we stop playing outside and come in for class. Sensei took his meltdown as an opportunity to take him out herself and downstairs to the flower shop below where she purchases the flowers and show him off a little. It warms my heart to see my friends here, these friends that I may not always be able to communicate properly to, but they always show how much loving kindness they have in their hearts for not only me, but my own. Once they were done their little stroll, KP was then perfectly content to play with his cars and a new toy one of my fellow students had brought for him. I was able to complete my arrangement in no time, even while keeping a keen eye on the whereabouts of my busy, little man.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZN2zbRG7H5gnYYZW-HvnWZfIgfc0OOjc9hCVwoJwf3jiuE35rmTQinwd1wOLEAnFEq5rxK4uuCTI12oTxNM64PTkByrsELsbQBf6ARD3Y8lJ48Yp_3qfUqsaOUimJrwNyPwVjNQ/s1600/IMG_5921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZN2zbRG7H5gnYYZW-HvnWZfIgfc0OOjc9hCVwoJwf3jiuE35rmTQinwd1wOLEAnFEq5rxK4uuCTI12oTxNM64PTkByrsELsbQBf6ARD3Y8lJ48Yp_3qfUqsaOUimJrwNyPwVjNQ/s320/IMG_5921.JPG" width="240" /></a>Takenouchi-sensei just has that magic touch. She liked what I did, but with a few tiny adjustments and she seemed to bring the whole thing completely alive, as if you happened upon it on a walk by a quiet lake. This is exactly what the Kozan school is about and it is no wonder she is a master of it. She does this with everyone's work, even when I think they are so amazingly accomplished that they couldn't possibly be improved upon. I have learned so very much from her.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Once class wrapped up, we gathered our wrapped flowers to recreate our work at home and then headed over to Kamakura Pasta. I've been there only once before, long before there was a KP, and I do love it. What I didn't know was that it had a glass room on the far end filled with toys so that adults can eat and kids can play. Just another way that my friends and classmates are so thoughtful, to chose a restaurant like thoroughly with the two of us in mind. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Ahead of time, I had prepared a little speech in the best Japanese I could muster. It may not have been perfect, but I know that each and every one of my friends understood. The tears (mine, but they quickly joined in) came in only my second sentence, but I continued so that they would know how much I value what they have taught me, not just about flowers, but about bonding with those from an entirely different culture, who speak an entirely different language. It has been one of the most wonderful experiences in my time here. It wasn't just about the art form, as it was when I first started studying. In the end, it is much more about the value of true and treasured friendship. I am thoroughly grateful for every moment I spent with them.</div>Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-80738834916303561832010-06-08T03:11:00.000-04:002010-06-08T03:11:39.667-04:00The Goddess of MercyThe "Goddess of Mercy of the White Robe" stands prominently on a mountain in Ofuna. You can't miss her from anywhere in the area, whether you are on a train or on foot. And yet, if my favorite exploring friend had not been with me when KP and I went to seek her out, I'm not sure if I would have figured out how to get to her.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAl_mWIH5s9ivrw_fUijzsNPX8OUpbLU_cnudlaV7T52eVVpMCyxQYsu3IMCY-ln0vNIhi5fsXZkWf8VETioAVqpPFGUZgxpaAquygGMwSxRpRsZYleHdzHEZFeUzdZ9L3tvAUvw/s1600/IMG_5898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAl_mWIH5s9ivrw_fUijzsNPX8OUpbLU_cnudlaV7T52eVVpMCyxQYsu3IMCY-ln0vNIhi5fsXZkWf8VETioAVqpPFGUZgxpaAquygGMwSxRpRsZYleHdzHEZFeUzdZ9L3tvAUvw/s200/IMG_5898.JPG" width="150" /></a>The path at the foot of the mountain stands hidden behind an unsuspecting neighborhood. At the entrance is merely a small wooden sign with some Japanese writing on it, of which I obviously cannot read. My friend said it took her and her mother several laps around the area to figure it out. And then the climb begins. Oh my, the climb. It is steep. Viciously steep. And pushing a 30 pound Peanut and his gear up it, well let's just say it wasn't easy. As we hiked and forced the stroller up the bumpy path, I was grateful that my friend had insisted we pause for lunch <i>prior</i> to the jaunt up. If we hadn't stuffed ourselves at Goemon (delicious Japanese pasta place, if you are interested), then I am pretty sure my breakfast of Diet Coke would not have been enough for the march. I surely would have collapsed halfway up and the Peanut would have rolled right over me and back on down the hill.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCmI9HQ68TTfYpWl7tJmV25ZGa6VN4fxx9bR3EQWMvf6a7iwEwHhdpbsc4uZ-For6HkeBq6-Nd5EOrd6N2zRXb8zlapRixPauM4YmC8Awuh2o5oHjBi-i8qb2MW17jUasBNszkdQ/s1600/IMG_5880.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCmI9HQ68TTfYpWl7tJmV25ZGa6VN4fxx9bR3EQWMvf6a7iwEwHhdpbsc4uZ-For6HkeBq6-Nd5EOrd6N2zRXb8zlapRixPauM4YmC8Awuh2o5oHjBi-i8qb2MW17jUasBNszkdQ/s200/IMG_5880.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2WPf1EUJ-ZHWjC07LIMYAnqo5IwtGO1hX4nXqFc7xcZIZgYayYeW2RBHcFRMK4spqvx0W6RbulmMNEk91K7BuCf2kkZP32ZNLnXWP93sWXhNcSaaS9LM36QFJBXHeoYgkHp5WQ/s1600/IMG_5883.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig2WPf1EUJ-ZHWjC07LIMYAnqo5IwtGO1hX4nXqFc7xcZIZgYayYeW2RBHcFRMK4spqvx0W6RbulmMNEk91K7BuCf2kkZP32ZNLnXWP93sWXhNcSaaS9LM36QFJBXHeoYgkHp5WQ/s200/IMG_5883.JPG" width="150" /></a>When we arrived at the top, I was thrilled to see this beautiful statue up close and in person. Kimono Peanut just liked running up, down and around the circular pathway that surrounds her.<br />
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<span id="goog_990122777"></span><span id="goog_990122778"></span>Why is this place so important? A little history lesson: The Goddess at Ofuna Kannon-ji was instituted "in general defense of the Fatherland" by Kentaro Kaneko and traditional nationalist Mitsuru Touyama who had been a part in the drafting of the Imperial Constitution (according to info provided at the site). Building began in 1929, with the Goddess meant to be praying for world peace, but in 1934 when only the outline was completed, war broke out in the Pacific and the place was left to nature's devices for the next twenty years. In 1954, a newly created society took up the work on construction and completed the project in 1960. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYNEJ67LdTcif3U1nqGI818DNtOcRmeYzgQa_6jg4lIP1V4Pio8eYM3vUqrJx36NCsv2bwvpgLcJ09soUBwhhirdzzN38DGMkKuE9umYs28ulDo6a1SbeWTKIYC1DwsXhdObC1w/s1600/IMG_5876.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheYNEJ67LdTcif3U1nqGI818DNtOcRmeYzgQa_6jg4lIP1V4Pio8eYM3vUqrJx36NCsv2bwvpgLcJ09soUBwhhirdzzN38DGMkKuE9umYs28ulDo6a1SbeWTKIYC1DwsXhdObC1w/s200/IMG_5876.JPG" width="150" /></a>The site contains stones from ground zero in both Hiroshima and Nagasaki, commemorating the souls of those who died in the tragedy of those atomic attacks. Most visitors to the temple do so regularly for spiritual purposes, but it is said that foreigners seek her out for comfort during their strives with homesickness. She is meant to carry prayers for peace for those of her home country and those who only call Japan their home for a set amount of time.<br />
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I can understand this purpose. The mountain she sits on is serene, tranquil and offers refuge from the busy city that lies at her feet. I can see praying for personal peace, as well as peace for the world at large in this obsequious setting. But I can also hope that it doesn't take a statue to remind us to all to do the same no matter where we are standing.Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-3904093238221394492010-05-24T08:33:00.000-04:002010-05-24T08:33:02.349-04:00Weekend Times, Family TimesWeekends are all about family time. Which, if you knew me back in the day, is actually quite funny because you would never expect me to be married, let alone start breeding a family. And now... I wouldn't change it for the world. Many told me that my younger and crazier self didn't know what she was missing. I say to them, that you're right. I probably didn't, but going through those days has only made me appreciate these days even more. So now when the weekend rolls around, I'm no longer sitting at happy hour and trying to figure out what random fun I can compromise myself in. I am instead planning random fun for my boys, the loves of my life.<br />
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Two recent outings proved noteworthy in their odd, little Japanese way. Both of them seemed to be accessible by car, which has proved easier than hauling Kimono Peanut and his infinite gear up and down the numerous stairwells we find in the smaller train stations. Of course, it is never as simple as it seems.<br />
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Not knowing what foods and supplies would be available at <a href="http://www.aburatsubo.co.jp/index.php">Aburatsubo Marine Park</a>, we stopped at the neighborhood 7-11 to get pre-cooked meals, pickled radishes and various snacks in preparation for a picnic lunch. Loaded up, we started off on the route that our handy dandy directions instructed. According to them, it looked like we basically passed Yokosuka Naval Base, made a total of three easy turns and we would arrive there at the tip of the Miura peninsula, where the park was to be perched on the rocky cliffs above the ocean. If this was true, the trip should have taken us no more than an hour with traffic. In all the time I have been here, I do not rely heavily on directions provided by the base because they are usually and sadly quite mistaken. This would be no exception.<br />
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Two hours into the trip, following our own good senses through the last hour and a half, we arrived at the park. Fortunately, we had left our house early and the park wasn't too full yet on what would surely be a busy day with the gorgeous weather we were having. After two trips back to the car because I seemed to have left my organizational skills at home for the day, we were finally past the main entrance.<br />
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The first thing to be done... play with sea cucumbers! A rocky pool had been built in front of the entrance to the main aquarium and held starfish and sea cucumbers so young and old hands alike to pick one up and play with it. And what do sea cucumbers feel like? Big, squishy boogers. I wished wholeheartedly that I had not had that experience. The boys didn't seem to mind. Boys and gross stuff. They go hand-in-hand, right?<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFOgx21qoFaf5l-VMaGILf0Z5fXzjqsyNRxSB-PbPUtEBc6LQtPuuhv2oI914Tv-8ykjIMVd43NaQKLs3i_ToG0IWtYxYFPqN9BWTXt2hZo-TB1Gx5P-NYYHlc-6Dz9Ry9kIb9Q/s1600/IMG_5398.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieFOgx21qoFaf5l-VMaGILf0Z5fXzjqsyNRxSB-PbPUtEBc6LQtPuuhv2oI914Tv-8ykjIMVd43NaQKLs3i_ToG0IWtYxYFPqN9BWTXt2hZo-TB1Gx5P-NYYHlc-6Dz9Ry9kIb9Q/s200/IMG_5398.JPG" width="150" /></a>Inside, the aquarium was quite well done! Not as large as Sea Paradise in Yokohama, but there was a nice size shark tank, plenty of sting rays, tanks that held fish who swam upside down or straight up and down, and even crabs that could surely rival my own weight with their massiveness. One of KP's favorite words and favorite things to see is 'fish'. We tried to expand the words to include the varietal names, but over his repeated 'FISH!' shrieks of joy, I doubt he heard a thing we were saying.<br />
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That surely could made his day all on its own, but this was a large park and there was much more to do. Apparently shows are the big thing in Japan. Seriously. Maybe I haven't been to enough parks, but it just feels like there are an awful lots of 'shows' at parks in Japan.<br />
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In the middle of the park stood a huge stage. An announcement when we were in the aquarium had sent most of the inside crowd running outside to the stage area, so we had followed. After standing there for ten minutes, without a seat in sight available, we decided to bag it and head over to a large circular tank nearby that a few were still peering into. Dolphins skimmed their way round and round in the tank. Of course, Kimono Peanut just saw more 'FISH!'.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQNbN3eN8cdQjaDCZp7TZGGo90Zv30FoHYjgY5VDI-Nw3RHixGgcV7nKcFY8MZVCR9FfRWgVl8v5AWPrSNYM-79H0lsTjBQsiHZINSMQHJ6QC7YuF2NUf2oJeA4vOZFOxppjwQA/s1600/IMG_5449.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkQNbN3eN8cdQjaDCZp7TZGGo90Zv30FoHYjgY5VDI-Nw3RHixGgcV7nKcFY8MZVCR9FfRWgVl8v5AWPrSNYM-79H0lsTjBQsiHZINSMQHJ6QC7YuF2NUf2oJeA4vOZFOxppjwQA/s200/IMG_5449.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXPm_aSRCwXCijfe-LW5b-a-6vgJ836CNoYbiwY9GYwab2Hgocvi8_gzp6_4Ia6bA790MNfpGNXJLs8u5IALFSwzzedaiabZE5j637USUP65_phUaGj5LgMJuVkRZaLanS-1p1-Q/s1600/IMG_5429.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXPm_aSRCwXCijfe-LW5b-a-6vgJ836CNoYbiwY9GYwab2Hgocvi8_gzp6_4Ia6bA790MNfpGNXJLs8u5IALFSwzzedaiabZE5j637USUP65_phUaGj5LgMJuVkRZaLanS-1p1-Q/s200/IMG_5429.JPG" width="150" /></a>As we stared in, something finally began to happen on stage! Lo, the show was starting! While I am not sure what we expected to see, I don't think it was the anime in life appearing before our eyes. I know they are hugely popular characters who now stood before us, but I honestly couldn't identify them. (Perhaps <a href="http://pixelscribbles.com/">Heather</a> can help me here?) Whoever they were... KP loved them and their big heads and big eyes topped with bright pink and blue hair. This is the story I got... the pink-haired is attacked by a man waving a fan at her. She falls down, goes boom. Fan man and his friend the Pirate laugh at her crumpled mass. But, lo, see yonder! It is the blue-haired girl arriving on the horizon! Blue and pink flying, they kick the butts of the Fan Man and Mr. Pirate! The end.<br />
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Honestly, it was well choreographed, but honestly not something I would chose to stand idly watching if it weren't for my wee one being so enthralled. We did drag him away as the numerous bows were beginning to go and get a good seat in the big arena for the marine animal show.<br />
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Front row! And praying we wouldn't get wet. We pried into KP whatever food he would pause to take in while he waited impatiently for the show to start. Perhaps the wonderful Sea Paradise show had me a bit spoiled, but this was a bit lacking. It didn't even get the Japanese audience laughing.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVxKhbziEP35PZpge4zsHdJqbARhqHdLI4DJA72flcc9iX2CZ-gOyZhVw3od9ht6L12QDwMN_8utBFlzfu7v6Sm9syPwS-Vj8bJp9I6s_tBg45Tkf9__r7jfVA4q8PjyeLAPlFg/s1600/IMG_5482.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinVxKhbziEP35PZpge4zsHdJqbARhqHdLI4DJA72flcc9iX2CZ-gOyZhVw3od9ht6L12QDwMN_8utBFlzfu7v6Sm9syPwS-Vj8bJp9I6s_tBg45Tkf9__r7jfVA4q8PjyeLAPlFg/s200/IMG_5482.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>A sea lion began the show by playing some tunes on the piano. Impressive actually. Then a person dressed as a penguin priest came out, said some things, meandered away for the dolphins to do their thing in the big tank, which is always cool to see. They did the noses to balls, waving, 'talking', hoop jumping and the typical marine show stuff. Some real penguins made their appearance, but they really only waddled onto and right off the stage. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicImWCv1ohfUTuVYKfoOKFHE51ey5ShPF3bYS8zWiHzWMIFPnXf14HNASlP9bx5kFWy79G27fD67k9FQ4mkomKK1-cO-2OCFfNGV5lLnbPzzvcA9DDlJDYqRnzTwtTSN_XNKAvBg/s1600/IMG_5492.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicImWCv1ohfUTuVYKfoOKFHE51ey5ShPF3bYS8zWiHzWMIFPnXf14HNASlP9bx5kFWy79G27fD67k9FQ4mkomKK1-cO-2OCFfNGV5lLnbPzzvcA9DDlJDYqRnzTwtTSN_XNKAvBg/s200/IMG_5492.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>The lights changed behind the stage to show the image of a stained glass window behind what now appeared to be an altar. The penguin priest returns followed by sea lions and their escorts, who turn out to be their wedding attendants! The penguin priest marries the sea lions. They kiss. The end. But no! It's time for the reception! The sea lion comes back to play the piano and his friend joins him to be the DJ. He actually squeaks a record or two. THEN, the end. No, I am not making this stuff up.<br />
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Through most of the show, KP had been clapping and hopping up and down, but the excitement just overcame him. He was asleep even before the kiss, collapsed in the arms of his daddy. We took the opportunity to have a nice romantic picnic lunch on the cliff overlooking the ocean and Mount Fuji, without our darling angel fighting us to run off in whatever direction the fun lay in next.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzH9_nK5xN2UsQCQqxLul1lhQvb-EG7tuykIgUqLUbhhDDHnGR8clsQdINNi_ArGicrpAxT8qMdLKic0jgpr1zP18QQ4TMapL2TrXmg1fq8lR12Tfai1Wp-dCq9XeTw7OzHkuJqQ/s1600/IMG_5408.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzH9_nK5xN2UsQCQqxLul1lhQvb-EG7tuykIgUqLUbhhDDHnGR8clsQdINNi_ArGicrpAxT8qMdLKic0jgpr1zP18QQ4TMapL2TrXmg1fq8lR12Tfai1Wp-dCq9XeTw7OzHkuJqQ/s200/IMG_5408.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>A stand was selling fresh conch and calamari. So fresh, in fact, it felt like you might be enjoying the taste of a recent exhibit. Of course, we have eaten these things many times so KH was all for grabbing some to nibble on. Now, I will eat a lot of things. But that conch... as tasty as it looked... e-gad, it was horrible. Even more horrific was when you pulled the entire thing out of the shell, you really didn't know what the black stuff was that you were eating. I'll admit. I couldn't do it. KH tried a few more bites than I did, but in the end, even he could not endure. When no one was looking, we tossed those bad boys. I did remind my husband that all I asked for was ice cream and that next time, perhaps, he can listen. But that taste wouldn't go away, so the ice cream came sooner than anticipated. Thank the good Lord.<br />
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Crowds were bringing the noise level up so it wasn't long before KP was roused. We had already checked out the petting zoo while he was sleeping only to find a dog, gerbils, rabbits and some mice... all of which you had to pay 300 yen for. He can pet a dog at the neighbor's house for free. We passed by it long before he knew he had even missed it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCRReDOn2r18VO0vNH7lMpNQi_QopM3EAFueMRxDI-RAItCUdJQcYhyphenhyphenTV8ibeE8dP36K-lwoKY6euvqhNPF1sJiGhjdj2ahrt1TcvCnIak96QcG06TiPQUqo7DDsyww_wwhzpog/s1600/IMG_5511.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQCRReDOn2r18VO0vNH7lMpNQi_QopM3EAFueMRxDI-RAItCUdJQcYhyphenhyphenTV8ibeE8dP36K-lwoKY6euvqhNPF1sJiGhjdj2ahrt1TcvCnIak96QcG06TiPQUqo7DDsyww_wwhzpog/s200/IMG_5511.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>There were many coin-operated rides there, so we chose a Keikyu train to toss our first 100 yen into. Sitting behind the wheel, pushing buttons and levers, he loved every moment of his first ride, after he got over the shock of the movement happening underneath him. We put him on several more rides before we finally dragged him away, with much lighter pockets. There were also these totally cool large furry animals that you sat on and steered, but KP was more interested in watching others ride them than he was in trying it for himself. <br />
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Strangeness aside, we had a great day together. KP saw 'FISH'! So we rock as parents. That day anyway.<br />
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Our second outing didn't turn out so well, but it has only recently come to pass that it wasn't the place as much as KP had been sick and we didn't know it. A short, but scary hospital stay only days after our trip to <a href="http://www.travbuddy.com/Kurihama-Flower-World-v339087">Kurihama Flower World</a> explained why he seemed to collapse in tears during every other step at the park.<br />
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Fortunately, getting there didn't seem to be as difficult as the trip before, with only a few surprises in the directions. We again got their earlier than the crowds, but hadn't stopped at the conbini as we had found at the marine park that there were some food stands. Of course, Kurihama Flower World didn't have as many as we would have thought for its size, but it didn't matter because we didn't stay that long due to the state of the Peanut baby.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2r2ii8m81m3SFPQn7p_zuiiu52GA48uyU-MFZS8NrLXlmvFVySkupRdrvj5_1BxX3szvGjPig5mndxBwa_KzmFPcOggnrJayFVCzQ2wngDquM856DflWc4SH0U1nRhxj1fbg1g/s1600/IMG_5666.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq2r2ii8m81m3SFPQn7p_zuiiu52GA48uyU-MFZS8NrLXlmvFVySkupRdrvj5_1BxX3szvGjPig5mndxBwa_KzmFPcOggnrJayFVCzQ2wngDquM856DflWc4SH0U1nRhxj1fbg1g/s200/IMG_5666.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>One never knows what to expect when you come to these places. We were more than a little surprised that all that seemed to stretch out in front of us was a poppy garden. An impressive poppy garden, don't get me wrong. But a poppy garden. Now, I love flowers more than most, but even I was expecting... more? A road on the side of the garden seemed to tell us that there was more to be seen... farther than the eye could see from our vantage and perhaps as farther than our feet would take us up the steep hills beyond the garden. After a few meanderings around the front part of the poppy garden, a train started making its way down the hill. A line formed at the front, causing us to gravitate in that direction in the hopes it would get us to the big beyond.<br />
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When the train pulled up and we hopped on, this usually would be another experience that the Peanut would love, but no, not on this day. His screams, twists and kicks had all of the Japanese in front of us turning to view us from the corner of their eyes. The kids were a bit more obvious as they just turned around and stared at us. Yes, we were that American family. Gah. Thankfully, the train began its ascent. At the first stop, the train conductor must have asked who wanted to get off here and most with kids raised their hands. We just wanted to get away from the stares, so we got off too.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHl8u1Squ3tyGBlvWt5OvpYtV7tU0IZEHNICW-2xXHoP2a3RiFrbsO_s_S-NFtZ2R4mohyLgKW2DTIJOnlrWxXNrKz7McytvY0O8bFvrDBGVg7rMHxHfpwNDIl6zSsJR07jQMKlg/s1600/IMG_5684.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHl8u1Squ3tyGBlvWt5OvpYtV7tU0IZEHNICW-2xXHoP2a3RiFrbsO_s_S-NFtZ2R4mohyLgKW2DTIJOnlrWxXNrKz7McytvY0O8bFvrDBGVg7rMHxHfpwNDIl6zSsJR07jQMKlg/s200/IMG_5684.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>There we found ourselves facing a gigantic Godzilla! If you crawled up into his belly, you could slide down the big slide out of his tail. This stopped the tears for a bit as KP loves a good slide. If it had been a bit wider, we would have attempted too, but the last thing we wanted to do was get stuck in a slide and glean ourselves more looks from the locals.<br />
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Behind Godzilla was a wonderful creation of ropes, ladders and slides all situated on the perfect gradual hill. Only one unfortunate thing... it was a wee bit advanced for an 18-month old. We did a few slides at the foot of it that seemed a bit more his speed, but when KP came down on his face and landed into a mud puddle, tears running down his cheeks, we decided to just steer clear of the rest of it. So we tried the more age appropriate slides and structures off to one quiet side. One other toddler crawled in and out, up and down with the Peanut. But, alas, even this was not enough to stop the tears. We coaxed him with snacks and toys, but nothing seemed to be working. We made the choice to catch the next train down. I'm uncertain what was at the top of the mountain where the train next went. A short debate about going to see what was over the rising hill was quickly ended when KP just completely lost it. We didn't even wait for the train, but instead started the long walk back down the hill.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvj3vHC668vBGs2sdRAUL5bQK_q8AWiv0K1jaLjW2ANFJ5ckZB7-lT3XtABxjXfDBxtw9d5UbOf6s-zaUqlVsipgnNEjQpLuexDsK4cbhcqDsUQMunRCmM3g3MQ4M7SCeKs_MlQ/s1600/IMG_5713.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPvj3vHC668vBGs2sdRAUL5bQK_q8AWiv0K1jaLjW2ANFJ5ckZB7-lT3XtABxjXfDBxtw9d5UbOf6s-zaUqlVsipgnNEjQpLuexDsK4cbhcqDsUQMunRCmM3g3MQ4M7SCeKs_MlQ/s200/IMG_5713.JPG" width="200" /></a>Halfway down, we came upon an ice cream shop that overlooked the poppy garden. Green tea ice cream quelled his frustrations for a few minutes, but it wasn't long before we again began our <strike>escape</strike> descent.<br />
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At the entrance of the park, a makeshift stage now had several cultural song and dance acts occurring on it. We watched a Hawaiian and traditional Japanese dance, but not wanting to press our luck much further, we made our way back to the car.<br />
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If we had time before our move back, I would love to try this place again. It had everything you could want for a sun and fun filled afternoon. As our time in Japan is now drawing quickly to an end, I don't foresee a second trip in our future. We shall see though! I remain optimistic about getting everything that I want to do squeezed in during these final days! If it were up to KP, he would chose an afternoon feeding the koi at the nearby stream and then playtime in the park nearby. Why are we adults to eager to plan these big elaborate days of fun when kids find the simple things in their everyday world almost more fun than those same big events?<br />
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We tried our first big outing since his hospitalization this past weekend. Close friends joined us for a trip to Yokohama for dinner at <a href="http://www.garlic-jos.com/english.html">Garlic Jo's</a> in Minato Mirai where we all ate delicious balls of broiled garlic called 'Vampire Killers' that surely kept everyone at a distance for the rest of the night. Then we took a ride on the world's third largest Ferris Wheel, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Minato_Mirai_21">Cosmo Clock 21</a>, where KP has proved that he has no fear of heights. The girls left the boys behind for a quick spin on the Vanishing Roller Coaster. And then off to watch the live acts being performed in front of Queens Square over ice cream parfaits and coffee.<br />
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Our time here is indeed fading. Our weekends our dwindling. We love our family time, but the next weeks simply must be filled with lots of friend time too. I don't care what we do. I just want to show those that I love here just how much I will miss them.Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-42114868123756963302010-05-03T09:26:00.000-04:002010-05-03T09:26:21.409-04:00Checking Off Another Dream: Time With a GeishaOne thing I had desperately wanted to do when I first moved to Japan was to hang out with a geisha. Little did I know that this task would be more than a little difficult to accomplish. Literature told me that there weren't many left around, but what it didn't tell me is how hard it is to get yourself to an event with one of the few that do still work in their unique cultural field. When the Kamakura chapter of Ikebana International announced their April program would include a visit with a geisha, I told Kimono Hubby that come hell or high water, I would be going to the program that day. He's a good guy. He made it happen. Even in the midst of an extremely busy week at work, he took the entire day off so I could catch the early bus to Tokyo with the other ladies.<br />
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A little rain did not dampen a single spirit that climbed onto the chartered tour bus that morning. Little did I know at that early hour, but most Japanese women have never seen or been around a geisha either. We all chatted away as we passed around basket after basket of baked goods to satisfy our stomachs until we arrived in the Asakusa part of Tokyo where we would have lunch.<br />
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Gardens are the thing to do here in Japan. Particularly in Japan and during the spring when the cherry blossoms are in bloom and the hanami party is the thing to do. But this spring has been the rainiest and coldest I have known in my four years here. I have lamented over this many a day these past months as my kid stands with his face smashed into our glass doors wailing 'side, side,' his special way of telling me we need to go outside. We've spent most days standing side-by-side at the window and staring longingly at the rain-soaked blossoms and budding trees wondering when it will end. The ladies of I.I. have watched the rain come down with the same sadness in their hearts that the Peanut and I endure.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje8NrbM5IFPmAqOPwVfjhHwpDLpvtRN4AxHM5gF9jq06sFvsBmrQrQk5XpYq-_k-FKVngsT6f3g6CL1B7tbFDiszut-TIQEED6MHmPmjZlzxn4RCPlfNDSF_nxfJbv_XRoMEECKA/s1600/IMG_5210.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje8NrbM5IFPmAqOPwVfjhHwpDLpvtRN4AxHM5gF9jq06sFvsBmrQrQk5XpYq-_k-FKVngsT6f3g6CL1B7tbFDiszut-TIQEED6MHmPmjZlzxn4RCPlfNDSF_nxfJbv_XRoMEECKA/s200/IMG_5210.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>What made our collectively rain-drenched blade even sharper was the fact that the rain caused our travels to Tokyo to be slowed so much that we were late to arrive at our first spot, the Edo Period <a href="http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e3025.html">Hamarikyu Onshi Garden</a>. This did not stop several brave gaijin women from taking a quick stroll around the very damp and yet still very beautiful garden, one of the largest traditional gardens in Tokyo which had originally been laid in the 17th century for the 4th Tokugawa Shogun (feudal lord) and later used by the Shogan as a hunting ground. The garden even served a spell as being a Detached Palace for the Imperial Family during the Meiji Restoration, but after World War II, the family gave the park to the City of Tokyo and opened it to the public. Inside the garden, we found a serenity completely unlike the bustling city area of Odaiba and the Shiodome that lie just across the moat of Tokyo Bay sea water surrounding the quiet garden. Strolling the grounds we found numerous cherry, plum and quince trees, a 300 year-old pine tree, and rock paths that led to the garden’s tidal pond with a teahouse perched at its center. If time had not been under such an extreme crunch, I would have loved to have stopped there for some matcha and sweets.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNa4BkkK7QnYmD7PrtAkkHaHzaR25fl3qbWKINYN0a8TDEvU7vtT2uipGdc6E-aXdMCv51oNwpOHMou6JgVYxloKElThgAXYphbVLMVuhbRobALNUvfSwUVvLXas3MphqnDfrQcg/s1600/IMG_5222.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNa4BkkK7QnYmD7PrtAkkHaHzaR25fl3qbWKINYN0a8TDEvU7vtT2uipGdc6E-aXdMCv51oNwpOHMou6JgVYxloKElThgAXYphbVLMVuhbRobALNUvfSwUVvLXas3MphqnDfrQcg/s200/IMG_5222.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>As it was, the Japanese ladies were already huddled up under the awning at the park's front where we caught a quick <a href="http://gojapan.about.com/cs/tokyosightseeing/a/tokyocruise.htm">cruise on the Sumida River</a>. The cruise took us under a dozen historic bridges, each one being unique and architecturally appealing in some way. The cruise is also generally a great way to see the old and new buildings of Tokyo and lines of cherry trees along the banks, but the rain was causing problems yet again as it darkened the windows of the boat with too many splatters to see clearly through. The cruise is famous for being <i><b>the</b></i> place to being during the Tokyo Bay Fireworks Festival held in August, but we will be long gone before then to catch that view. when the cruise ended, we were pulled up onto the banks, just across from one of the most eye catching buildings in Tokyo, the Asahi Beer Building. It is meant to resemble a glass of beer, but I can't help but to think it more resembles a big old sperm. Sorry, Japan friends for this observation. Moving on.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJIgVzQhvUAir3KaPKipA0OINw4ufA_dz0Cmtg-XF54StnFSCguqJ3nYEr2RsjfCZX3UTtwsRG1JNrwmn046zemSaAGC800cuieY2Qvgfjp17HH7JRNbA8g0Nw0Sg16RZoJ8Lag/s1600/IMG_5243.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioJIgVzQhvUAir3KaPKipA0OINw4ufA_dz0Cmtg-XF54StnFSCguqJ3nYEr2RsjfCZX3UTtwsRG1JNrwmn046zemSaAGC800cuieY2Qvgfjp17HH7JRNbA8g0Nw0Sg16RZoJ8Lag/s200/IMG_5243.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>We now found ourselves in the heart of Asakusa, where we would be having lunch at the long-established <a href="http://www.asakusa.gr.jp/english/members/restaurants/06_kusatsutei.html">Asakusa Tanbo Kusatsutei</a>. It was here that the day really began to fulfill some of the dreams I long entertained of what my time in Japan would be like. We began with the first of our seasonal kaiseki lunch, an elegant wooden bento box that held various vegetables and fish cooked in traditional Japanese fashion. A second course brought my favorite, sashimi. A third, some type of crab in a ball placed in a clear broth. A thin slice of daikon disguised itself on top of the ball making the dish look like a jellyfish floated inside. A fourth course, the expected miso soup. And finally a fifth course of sweets and fruits. Each course fought hard to be more exquisite than the one that had come before it.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vuvjduYBcneyTdRSwjeNoV2jNKYZyShcBflaO1kdpCnKwMdbCF69XKamT4obGRUQeLASKPPJz_DzsFA4VtoDLWW_4Utf-OGduKjmg3W218Q2lEqiieb7dU9CCU669QyXfcdMRA/s1600/IMG_5292.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6vuvjduYBcneyTdRSwjeNoV2jNKYZyShcBflaO1kdpCnKwMdbCF69XKamT4obGRUQeLASKPPJz_DzsFA4VtoDLWW_4Utf-OGduKjmg3W218Q2lEqiieb7dU9CCU669QyXfcdMRA/s200/IMG_5292.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-vtut5lmibCBSoJSGL1p4LfvAUo3xuinagYhVa42SqzrIrO2IwwOzt2YIfGqxLgE64KAt_9Y3dVcHIhltXkF1MIGLhBN7kvgCebfyExbNrytgoqZiGND3_DH_Brdj2psofWi4xQ/s1600/IMG_5266.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-vtut5lmibCBSoJSGL1p4LfvAUo3xuinagYhVa42SqzrIrO2IwwOzt2YIfGqxLgE64KAt_9Y3dVcHIhltXkF1MIGLhBN7kvgCebfyExbNrytgoqZiGND3_DH_Brdj2psofWi4xQ/s200/IMG_5266.JPG" width="150" /></a>It was during this superb gluttony that our highlighted guest made her entrance. <a href="http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/fl20010923a4.html">Norie</a> is a local geisha, fourth generation in her family, and has long lived in Asakusa previously with her family and now at her established Okiya. She came to us well educated, speaking several languages, which thankfully included a perfect grasp of the tricky English language. She and her accompaniment, another traditional geisha, who specifically plays shamisen (a type of Japanese string instrument) and therefore does not wear the white make-up, started with a short introductory speech before proceeding into their first song and dance performance. Of course, the singing was not done in English, but whatever she said was certainly quite funny as several times there were titters and more amidst our Japanese ladies. Norie did a second short dance number and then sat down as well to play a taiko drum while singing, which sounds more like chanting to my untrained ear, along with the shamisen player.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoADGZgTqi_Lt_y4U8WFm9ZrlaSlpTogKuo6KXxfusYyOAbNp9h9ZNCaFaIShwiZu4KsZzzmiSL5rdE6C0JCVSI1hkqHMJGMxCzLgsCZ9t_P17FRmR7OJY4W-Rt9Rti6Tgs2z62A/s1600/IMG_5296.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoADGZgTqi_Lt_y4U8WFm9ZrlaSlpTogKuo6KXxfusYyOAbNp9h9ZNCaFaIShwiZu4KsZzzmiSL5rdE6C0JCVSI1hkqHMJGMxCzLgsCZ9t_P17FRmR7OJY4W-Rt9Rti6Tgs2z62A/s200/IMG_5296.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>After these performances, she paused a bit to stroll around the room and chat with several of us. Of course, we had about sixty women in our crowd so I wasn't counting on getting too much alone time with her... but I was hoping beyond hope I was wrong. Thank you God, I was! She actually sat with my two American friends and I for several minutes and let me barrage her with question after question. Just from this brief conversation, I would say she is quite sharp and surely is the life of the party she is supposed to be after a few drinks are in her evening customers. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfEPeHFtxuZn8trWb5ehCOq0atrROmGO9GiSlTerFDQxO5FnKK5EOpd96cRJ4IYWnibhg6DfNtLdAuutMjw8LfvnsT2hC-M6QCtvyYRNx6a7GXN8L102RRsnM4K8-L7M3TtQ6Rw/s1600/IMG_5303.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqfEPeHFtxuZn8trWb5ehCOq0atrROmGO9GiSlTerFDQxO5FnKK5EOpd96cRJ4IYWnibhg6DfNtLdAuutMjw8LfvnsT2hC-M6QCtvyYRNx6a7GXN8L102RRsnM4K8-L7M3TtQ6Rw/s200/IMG_5303.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>After she moved on from us, I couldn't help but stare at her as she floated around the room. I simply loved when she would get lost in telling a story to a group. Without knowing it, every inch of her was completely animated and into the story and the ladies that swarmed around her leaned in even closer, hanging onto every witty word of whatever secret story she was sharing with them. It was simply marvelous to see! Damn. Now I sound like I am turning into some little old lady, but I swear I loved it that much.<br />
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Norie made her way back up to the stage for the next part of our afternoon. The fun was not over as she pulled out a low, traditional table on which she would be teaching us the traditional Japanese drinking games of goishi hiroi and konpira fune fune. When she asked for volunteers, in the usual way the Japanese women hesitated. Of course, they would never volunteer until they were overly encouraged to do so, even if they were surely dying to run up there in the first place as I know I was. My friend fortunately is like me and did not want to miss an opportunity as such. We jumped at the chance and pulled our other friend who was at her first I.I. program visiting along with us.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYthn6SP9shjKJzqFzvTyjhw8WKU3h7jUOuTnG5juCOO53ijth90m_U03IZBxmNY3ULFup9QIogZjArQpEJY3vO_75VeMGI3NVkJ8noX18tWmEHsZkeRQNGN0GUh-AFETY9029zg/s1600/IMG_5331.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYthn6SP9shjKJzqFzvTyjhw8WKU3h7jUOuTnG5juCOO53ijth90m_U03IZBxmNY3ULFup9QIogZjArQpEJY3vO_75VeMGI3NVkJ8noX18tWmEHsZkeRQNGN0GUh-AFETY9029zg/s200/IMG_5331.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>Somehow, the proper number of volunteers were acquired. Norie asked for five on each side as she placed us into teams. She told us the first and last person would have it the hardest. She had demonstrated what we were to be doing and it seemed easy enough, but that was until you tried it. When it was your turn, you rushed up and kneeled at the table in the proper Japanese sitting fashion, tie on a scarf around your neck, pick up the chopsticks and begin transferring these rounded, wooden 'coins' from the bowl they were in to the empty one beside it. If you dropped one in the process, the person standing in turn behind you was to rush over, pick it up and put it back in the bowl to try again. Shamisen music plays in the background which only adds to the intensity you feel as you try to rush your chips to the appropriate bowl. Gaijin stood at the front of the line on both teams and while we are all pretty confident in our chopstick eating skills, this was much harder than we anticipated. My friend managed to get through it without showing an ounce of the frustration she had to be feeling over being the first, the guinea pig, as we took in what she was doing and prepared ourselves to do the same, but faster. I was third and I don't like to brag, but I was damn good. Unfortunately our team lost, despite the two Japanese ringers we had at the end of our team who made up a world of time for our slow gaijin start. All in good spirits though as we laughed our way back to our table and to watch another group try their hand at it. I can imagine that playing this in the evening hours and with a lot of sake being pushed on the losers, that this game gets progressively harder and progressively funnier. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqThaNNXel_F7ccBrfCregbO2nrsvvQV7_u-Wi79qgYqTiCz0boMlm51p5pqThLVu0Z0L_xdt3sBDEmTwYBgKKbyRrAOl0ug2NgYpe9D7-mo9sUk49D9ZTLMLs4uE0RvvwzTdjA/s1600/IMG_5340.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKqThaNNXel_F7ccBrfCregbO2nrsvvQV7_u-Wi79qgYqTiCz0boMlm51p5pqThLVu0Z0L_xdt3sBDEmTwYBgKKbyRrAOl0ug2NgYpe9D7-mo9sUk49D9ZTLMLs4uE0RvvwzTdjA/s200/IMG_5340.JPG" width="200" /></a>The second game, konpira fune fune, I desperately wanted to take part in, but I thought it would be greedy to volunteer so eagerly again when there were so many other people there to try their hand. Of course, my Japanese friends encouraged me, but I maintained my polite no-no-I-couldn't attitude. My friend did go and try for a second round at a game. She and I get along well as we both try to fully take advantage of every opportunity our lives have given us, so she didn't hesitate when encouraged to go again.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQXY9fY_Fmm-mq5fJhY23gLZ1F68BUxiePz2FC-hxKkZTiIWMlBblZf9hghE53o1n5-NencfsffhNt_GuLkLso4zE6HkcxB1wEG4Wkv349hztF12HpaG-rpsoDBx7Nbpc5jYcLUQ/s1600/IMG_5349.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQXY9fY_Fmm-mq5fJhY23gLZ1F68BUxiePz2FC-hxKkZTiIWMlBblZf9hghE53o1n5-NencfsffhNt_GuLkLso4zE6HkcxB1wEG4Wkv349hztF12HpaG-rpsoDBx7Nbpc5jYcLUQ/s200/IMG_5349.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>For this game, it's head-to-head as you do a tap and grab dance with a bowl in the middle of the table. When the bowl is not on the table (as you have 'stolen' it) and your opponent doesn't make a fist instead of a flat palm, you win. The ever present shamisen music plays faster and faster increasing the pace of the game. Again, drunk, this would be increasingly difficult to say the least. As it was, my friend won both rounds and won herself a tenugi (a decorative towel used for a variety of things) with little drunken businessmen playing games and drinking sake imprinted onto it. Darn. When I saw what she won, I wish I had pushed up there, but who is to say I wouldn't have sucked at the game. Laughter filled the air as everyone took a turn at besting their opponent with one of my fellow Ikebana students falling in a pile of laughter as she was bested twice by a friend.<br />
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When the games ended, Norie took more time moving around the room and talking to everyone she could get to. One of the older groups of ladies had bought several tokkuri (ceramic serving flasks) of sake and were doing their best to get Norie to down several choko (small drinking glasses that look like shot glasses). Watching them enjoy meeting her was probably the highlight of my experience with a geisha. They were just in hysterics from her stories and what could be better than watching friends have the time of their lives?<br />
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As that portion of the afternoon closed and we made our decent to reclaim our shoes (removed in traditional fashion as we had entered the restaurant and stepped onto the tatami mats), the laughter continued as members strolled out onto the street for a little sightseeing and shopping in the honored <a href="http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e3001.html">Senso-ji Temple</a> area of <a href="http://www.japan-guide.com/e/e3004.html">Asakusa</a>. I got a second opportunity to chat with Norie for a few more moments as we were leaving and made sure to tell her that she had made it a great afternoon... one my dreams were made of. She was so sweet to tell me that she then wishes she had spent even more time talking to me. Trust me, Norie, I am so happy with the time we spent.<br />
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We had an hour of free time before we had to meet back at the bus. On Nakamise-dori, I purchased some Chinese zodiac animal figurines that matched each of our birthdates. They have little bells in them and my friend gave me the idea to make them into Christmas ornaments. Considering I haven't really bought any in years (Japan is, as stated stated before, not so big on the holiday in the regular Christian way of celebrating), these will hold a lot of meaning to me and will be treasured for years to come.<br />
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We got some sweets and continued our aimless meandering for a bit more and then gathered back at the meeting point.<br />
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I can't believe I actually got to meet a geisha. I kind of figured that if anyone did, it would be KH at one of the many events he attends in the city. I feel like I finally one-upped him in this respect. If you know the circle he runs in, you know how difficult that is. I treasure of lot of days and memories of Japan, but this one will be one of the best. God bless these amazing opportunities.Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28745563.post-81855414902638867812010-04-26T08:43:00.000-04:002010-04-26T08:43:39.323-04:00Kimonos in KoreaOur last big Asian hurrah has come and gone as we checked off own more country-we-hoped-to-visit while living on this side of the world, South Korea. I know, I know. Why South Korea? It really isn't your typical vacation destination. But ever since we found out that we were going to be living in Asia, I've had it in my head that I need to visit the same foreign lands that my father walked on many years ago. I'm not entirely sure why this inclination, but I think it has something to do with the fact that my dad is a bit hard to get to know. I feel like if I trail in his footsteps in whatever way I can, I might glean a more thorough picture of why he is the person he is today.<br />
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This isn't to say that my dad isn't the best. He really is. He's just... well... for those that know him, would you say... different? Intelligent. Knowledgeable. Tender, but he only shows that to little ones. Physically strong. Mentally sharp. But he is also opinionated. Stubborn. Reserved in many ways. Abrasive (and this amuses him). And quite prone to eventually removing himself entirely from society at large. The stories I do get out of him tend to come when we have had a few drinks. <br />
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My brother probably would not agree on all of these parts of him as they have a very different relationship than what I share with him. My brother is an awful lot like him in many ways. He's always been the smart, calculating one. I'm not saying I'm a brainless twit or not at all like my dad. My mother would say I am <i>all</i> him. I just think my brother is more how my dad is today and I'm a bit more like the wilder, younger side of my dad that had the intelligence to have reservations in his head, but (back then) very rarely let them dictate what he did in life. Which is why we went to Korea. Or at least why I went. Korea was part of those wilder, younger days and that meant I felt a need to take part in the experience. Minus perhaps all the booze and broads that my dad surely made part of his experience.<br />
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Besides all this, there was also the culture! Another culture to spend a few days interacting with. Try it on for size. That's the stuff my dreams are made of.<br />
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The trip was only a few days long. There wasn't much of a plan before we got there except a few pages in a tattered guide folded down for possible things to see and do. We cashed in some United vouchers that we had each received from our last flight home from the states... the one that leaked fuel all over the runway and threatened to blow us into smithereens if we had actually tried to go wheels-up. We used some of the insane number of credit card points we have amassed from previous travel to stay practically free at the Grand Ambassador Hotel Associated with Pullman (formerly a Sofitel so very cushy-cushy). Budgeting for just a couple of hundred pocket cash, we did the entire trip for under a $1000. For a place we had only dreamed of visiting, we managed to do it and do it in style.<br />
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Before we had left Japan, I had made several calls to hook us up on a Demilitarized Zone (DMZ) tour the day after we arrived, which looked to be the warmest and driest of days that we were planning on being there. After some difficulty finding an English-speaking person (many spoke English, but didn't really speak it, if you know what I mean), I managed to book a tour. When our guide picked us up that morning, we weren't really sure what the tour included, but after speaking with her for a few moments, it was quickly realized that we weren't doing exactly what we had hoped for. We wanted to go to Panmunjom. We wanted to stand in the room where the North and the South have had both epic and small talks to resolve military, economic and political problems. We wanted Kimono Peanut to give a friendly gesture to the North Koreans. We kid. We joked about it, but we know the seriousness of this area and would not have jeopardized ourselves or the sanctity of the area. We actually were more worried that he would simply wave in his typical uber propitious ways and unintentionally cause an international incident. I was prepared to hold his arms at his sides. Turns out we had nothing to worry about. We weren't going there. Nor was anyone else on our tour. We would have tried to do a different tour to get us to Panmunjom, but we found out at the same time that there was an age limit. Unless one of us was prepared to sit at the hotel and let the other go, neither of us were going to make it to that room. During this current trip at least.<br />
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Instead our guide, a slight woman, but who had a forceful way about her ushered us onto a small bus with rather Chinese-looking red and gold fringed curtains in the windows that would take us out of the city. As what seemed like an afterthought during a rather dull talk about how the area around the DMZ was very fertile ground for growing the Korean prized ginseng, our guide threw out the quite interesting fact that the barbed wire rings that separated the side-by-side river and highway were placed there to stop the North Koreans from coming near the shores and throwing mortar. Apparently, we were traveling the road that separated North and South by only the river. Sure, the DMZ was there too, but I guess in the past, this had not stopped the North from trying to start something on many occasions. If you follow the news on this side of the world, this would not entirely surprise you. In fact, just the other week, it looks like a South Korean ship was sunk by a North Korean torpedo. And then there was a few months ago, when the North was shooting missiles over Japan, landing them in the water just beyond my own home. I guess I should worry more, but coming from Washington, DC, it feels like I always seem to live somewhere that likes to keep a target painted squarely on its back.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUZB2EaHnI16_aOXPMwueQLOmgyOsa6UAQ6KReN084MLDzIw7deJLhbkH_-k9VPCpqnDeTgkX1ySHSrcPU3M-LqB8x4WVCO4S50e2gB1a91tOZR8-oxPZrvaXGOSsJhP-iJG9Sw/s1600/IMG_4905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmUZB2EaHnI16_aOXPMwueQLOmgyOsa6UAQ6KReN084MLDzIw7deJLhbkH_-k9VPCpqnDeTgkX1ySHSrcPU3M-LqB8x4WVCO4S50e2gB1a91tOZR8-oxPZrvaXGOSsJhP-iJG9Sw/s200/IMG_4905.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVBZD-jXZFY9EJ6SdDnHz4ap5Hy0qKUY1p2Y3GvKejT7VmQ1_kFUiYXJdmK6XpRYTC1EPhvEXKMbn72vwmcM8wvM9DRSuRmoKGZK9sTJybshMqLUXSd03mhAQoQket4UQqISfxA/s1600/IMG_4896.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvVBZD-jXZFY9EJ6SdDnHz4ap5Hy0qKUY1p2Y3GvKejT7VmQ1_kFUiYXJdmK6XpRYTC1EPhvEXKMbn72vwmcM8wvM9DRSuRmoKGZK9sTJybshMqLUXSd03mhAQoQket4UQqISfxA/s200/IMG_4896.JPG" width="200" /></a><br />
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We stopped and checked in just outside of the entrance to the DMZ. Here at Imjingak park, we were given a speech about following the rules. Don't go where you aren't supposed to. Don't take photos where she said not to. Don't dilly-dally. And many others. The last one, she wasn't kidding about, but more on that later. We wandered the grounds there for a bit where you could see the Freedom Bridge which spans the Imjin River. 12,773 prisoners of war crossed this bridge after the Korean War and today, it is as close as some Koreans will ever get to their relatives still living in the North. Today, a rusted train with over 1,000 bullet holes sits stranded on the DMZ line where it was forever halted from the gunfire it endured. The same winding strands of barbed wire stretch the entire area, ensuring that you get only limited photograph-able views of the bridge as it is yet the first of many things we saw but couldn't properly immortalize for our own records. Knowing our guides propensity to push for extreme timeliness, we figured we best get to the meeting point sooner rather than later. She was already eagerly awaiting us. <br />
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From here, we climbed onto a larger bus. Only certain buses are authorized to enter the DMZ. At the checkpoint, we relinquished our passports to be checked by the heavily armed guard that boarded the bus. Talk about squelching the fun in a tour. They take security <i>very </i>seriously. I kept my eyes down and my camera away as the rule was not to photograph on or from the bus.<br />
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Crossing into the DMZ, there really isn't much around. If the ground is so fertile, I certainly wasn't seeing it. It was of course April, which is still quite chilly in Korea. But you know how you see pictures of the North and it looks pretty barren? Well, so does the DMZ. Of course, now I wonder why I ever thought the terrain would automatically change as I crossed that magical line.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6mYSNXWrVmDz1cWSix8JwdIMSwFyl1OZXGfNM4LIdl0iYtOQWEVHVGGoC_9yR6A17BrtOECXmxUveSbbJXPvgxj60ycK4z2-pd85nFwHqc0NVrbM0eiOZlTXN2iy5xBIgNlBbNQ/s1600/IMG_4916.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6mYSNXWrVmDz1cWSix8JwdIMSwFyl1OZXGfNM4LIdl0iYtOQWEVHVGGoC_9yR6A17BrtOECXmxUveSbbJXPvgxj60ycK4z2-pd85nFwHqc0NVrbM0eiOZlTXN2iy5xBIgNlBbNQ/s200/IMG_4916.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>When the bus stopped, we were in front of the entrance to the 3rd Tunnel. I could go into a whole history lesson here about how the DMZ is the last front to the Cold War, but I will refrain. There are surely only a few that read this that are honestly interested in hearing a history lesson from me. I will have to say this - the North did have plans to invade the South through these tunnels that there were digging. The 3rd Tunnel was discovered in 1978. It is the largest one found to date (the 4th was found in 1990) and would have allowed an army of 30,000 fully armed North Koreans to pass through within an hour. It is believed that there are other tunnels undiscovered. Imagine if they had managed to invade through these tunnels. Shocking.<br />
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As we were stuffing backpacks into lockers at the entrance, our guide told us we could take cameras. Of course, when I tried to snap a picture as we were entering the tunnel, I was immediately stopped and shoved backwards with wild fluctuations being made toward my camera. Our guide was already throwing hats at her group to prepare us to enter the tunnel, so getting her attention was difficult. I was worried that I would be left behind before I even got started so I took it upon myself to yell for her. She came back, talking quickly in Korean, trying to convince them to let me take it but to no avail. I returned to my locker, under a close eye or I would have slipped it back into my pocket and had to rush over and throw a helmet on as the group was already beginning a near sprint down into the tunnel. Bitterness in my throat at being thwarted when everyone else in my group was carrying a camera, I honestly didn't have much time to think about it or even possibly use it as we headed down at a breakneck pace. We had befriended some Australians on our tour and we all four made jokes about how our guide would be getting a severe lesson if she expected us to haul our cookies back up out of the tunnel later at the same pace.<br />
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It was steep; it was deep. Kimono Hubby carried KP as my clumsiness would have probably caused me to roll downhill with the baby. When we got to the bottom and the actual tunnel, we had to bend over so our heads did not hit the very low ceiling. This wasn't so bad, except we were carrying a 30 pound kid in our arms. Bend over like that with a sack of potatoes in your arms and go for a mile long run and see just how much fun you can have. I already have back problems and this little jaunt wasn't helping. We constantly heard the knock of hats of the ceiling or felt it when we smacked our own. On the walls, the North had smeared coal in an effort to explain the reason for the tunnels being that they were mining coal. I give them a 90% for the effort of this little white lie. When we finally get to the end, I am given no more than seconds to glimpse what is there. More barbed wire spirals block the way into North Korea. I'm sure there was a guard or two there too, but I never got the time or close enough to actually see this. Sure, the guide pushed me forward to see, but pulled me back just as quickly. And yes, she did plan for us to go up at the same pace.<br />
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I can't even begin to explain how hard it was to get back up out of that tunnel. I think our only motivation was to get to the end and smack that woman upside the head. The Australians hung back and offered to help, but they were a little bit on the older side. The last thing we needed was for them to drop of a heart attack. Again the thought of sparking an international incident flashed in our minds. No, instead we trudged along and threw each other bitter glances every so often.<br />
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Red faced, out of breath and with near broken backs, we got back to the top entrance, where lo and behold there was group after group snapping a picture of the exact same thing I tried to photograph on the way in. I guess it is fine if you take a picture after (and probably in) as long as they don't see you go in with the camera. Or maybe you just can't have the name Karen. Gah. To spite them, I simply refused to take a picture. Take that, crazy rule people!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXyBKIeJyYa2ogTx_t8MkxocTdZMKmsQaYHI6sw1VGvf2wyPZ5_X65lIma3UK9MHbwqHLy4Athl6zDAEa4S_iGRWtPGevx8ok26c4rBise2jH93C6efOhFssO1uGuu91R6t1s1YQ/s1600/IMG_4927.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXyBKIeJyYa2ogTx_t8MkxocTdZMKmsQaYHI6sw1VGvf2wyPZ5_X65lIma3UK9MHbwqHLy4Athl6zDAEa4S_iGRWtPGevx8ok26c4rBise2jH93C6efOhFssO1uGuu91R6t1s1YQ/s200/IMG_4927.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>We were rushed back to the bus, drove for a moment, and rushed off the bus again, this time to take in the view of North Korea from the northernmost observatory, Dora. Telescopes line the wall that allow you to see Propaganda Village, the North Korea flag sailing high, and other small glimpses into North Korea like the second largest city Gaeseong and surrounding farmland for a few won. There is a line painted in yellow that tells you it is at that point that you can no longer take photographs. Of course, the line is so far back from the high wall that you could never possibly get a picture of North Korea from there. A new group of South Korean soldiers were doing some sort of introduction to their new mission and lined much of the wall, looking excitedly upon their futures. We were there only minutes to take everything in before we were rushed back to the bus.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifZlzq_XHodqDnqS9A82V9-k9OaE4mMsgI41PgOyGOmX8FbOivDuqYpy7eLqVxKZk2GXGXFDABssc98590dmd6ufyH10ZlLhWLwdpYQtHo_STthZu84sj-150BqgT2pyWKp8QHMw/s1600/IMG_4934.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifZlzq_XHodqDnqS9A82V9-k9OaE4mMsgI41PgOyGOmX8FbOivDuqYpy7eLqVxKZk2GXGXFDABssc98590dmd6ufyH10ZlLhWLwdpYQtHo_STthZu84sj-150BqgT2pyWKp8QHMw/s200/IMG_4934.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>Moving again, this time we stop at Dorasan Station. Please forgive me, but this station amused me. It has huge historical significance as being the possible railroad connection between South Korea and Pyongyang and potentially beyond. This ultra modern station lies completely empty, hopefully waiting for the time when the Korea's reunite. I know this is awful to think and even more to say, but I can't imagine that this station won't be a dinosaur when/if that time ever comes and worse, it would likely be under control of the North. I pray that I am wrong and I love its symbolic nature, but it just seems like a pretty unrealistic goal. South Korea also feels like this station could be the start of a trans Euro-Asian railroad. Seriously? Who wants to ride a train that freaking far? Take a plane already. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5FgSzfwZ_nzSq1kiRrOLE0gw1uJtXTiv7seKd9gGWzK3xBgsVLdIRXON9EvGhrUm_Ae6E9Q8LJ4cBDVEaGQDsZdh5fKV0I68075rsQzrFslEdOpLrsU76RhO_bRY4o_4YU-mOMQ/s1600/IMG_4930.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5FgSzfwZ_nzSq1kiRrOLE0gw1uJtXTiv7seKd9gGWzK3xBgsVLdIRXON9EvGhrUm_Ae6E9Q8LJ4cBDVEaGQDsZdh5fKV0I68075rsQzrFslEdOpLrsU76RhO_bRY4o_4YU-mOMQ/s200/IMG_4930.JPG" width="200" /></a></div>President George Bush previously visited this station. I don't love or hate what he did with his presidency, time has yet to tell if it was a good one or not, but I did love the slightly dumbfounded look on his face in the pictures from that epic visit. One has to wonder what his thoughts were as he walked off Marine One into the middle of nowhere to celebrate a station that will likely never be used for more than the tourist destination it is today.<br />
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Rushing. Back to the bus. Stopped. Again. Last minute DMZ tourist gifts. I grab South Korean candy, North Korean beer and a book on the Korean DMZ. Rush back to the bus. Cross back out of the DMZ. Get off bus. Get back on smaller, weird-curtained bus. Head back to city. Driver takes a wrong exit and instead of going forward, he kicks it into reverse and backs out onto the highway. More heart failure on our part. In the city, we stop again, this time at an amethyst museum. For those that have read my past travel blogs, you know that this means it is just a way to get tourists to buy jewelry they never intended to. This time, we refuse to get off the bus. So do the Australians. I know this perturbed them, but we all had had enough of the up and down crap for the day. When everyone else reboards, we finally make our way back to the hotel.<br />
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As for the tour, I'm glad I went. But I would never, ever do it again. The end.<br />
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We were starved, especially the Peanut. The concierge we got at this time of the day happened to be the only one who didn't speak very good English so getting a restaurant out of him that was kid friendly was more than a little difficult. We knew there was an Outback nearby, so I must admit that this is where we ended up. I know, I know. But when you are starved, you go to what is quick and what you know. It was delicious too, although way more Australian than American. Australian beef is so much more game-y than American. And the funny part, they served kimchi with it all. It was our first acknowledgment that they really do serve kimchi with every meal.<br />
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After dinner, we realized we were in a very busy part of the city, although which part we didn't know. We were still a bit turned around on directions yet. After some scouting, it came to pass that we were in Myeong-dong, an area full of trendy shops, bars and cafes and ripe with street vendors. When something looked tasty, we were sure to try it. Exhaustion took us before we tried too much however, so we headed back to the hotel to put KP to bed and to do our own little North versus South beer testing. I hate to say this, but the North won hands down. If Hite was the beer my dad drank all those years ago, I can't figure out for the life of me how he came to stomach them. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizRqge1FIl-I38BfbBjuHwvVJZxh_dCIrncAsY_A_rEiPqsy-oK2gCMHobjioldBgOZRIJ1dJJarzdoCHRnhp72sEgwZRP1PDBkOu7G5cwD0KwREdoZUhYicoRpUmiTFzA38JTqA/s1600/IMG_5020.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizRqge1FIl-I38BfbBjuHwvVJZxh_dCIrncAsY_A_rEiPqsy-oK2gCMHobjioldBgOZRIJ1dJJarzdoCHRnhp72sEgwZRP1PDBkOu7G5cwD0KwREdoZUhYicoRpUmiTFzA38JTqA/s200/IMG_5020.JPG" width="150" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOeafj3F4AUTvj20-2Npbxguu8ctnJPIU5iI9g5Ahfh-SCoX2W947oyOXY4YRukUfg-HRmODbUJSDE4hA8nZPuog5nvzZTgjF7dsDws7JVP3FLidYKA6-16Qz6jG_QJJKU-89-w/s1600/IMG_5009.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdOeafj3F4AUTvj20-2Npbxguu8ctnJPIU5iI9g5Ahfh-SCoX2W947oyOXY4YRukUfg-HRmODbUJSDE4hA8nZPuog5nvzZTgjF7dsDws7JVP3FLidYKA6-16Qz6jG_QJJKU-89-w/s200/IMG_5009.JPG" width="150" /></a>What else did we do during our time there? Well, we shopped a lot. We ate a lot. We walked the city a lot. We tried all of the main areas and all the most important restaurant and street foods. At what is supposed to be the more traditional area, Namdaemun, we found an open-air market with hundreds of vendors carrying ginseng tea, ginseng whiskey (that I swear looks like something out of a Harry Potter book), red pepper, fish byproducts, kitchen gear and then stands upon stands carrying the exact same upper label knock-offs. But the bad part... none of them were good knock-offs, nor were they anything I would actually want! I was so disappointed at this. I had heard such great things about shopping in Korea. People make day trips for this place! And yet, all we left with was some knock-off socks. <br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYduDeqttNsUqllPEVR-dUOsvItajl-wI_3ZyKrDVyg8fjp6F-iFQpeN_NUiy44dZEe-E5peJeLo3IHGcB5_sV808qAWkG3gRiWaEP6NrFpYOEcJmtPrDse55q3G2RqyEgsh_9Q/s1600/IMG_4988.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvYduDeqttNsUqllPEVR-dUOsvItajl-wI_3ZyKrDVyg8fjp6F-iFQpeN_NUiy44dZEe-E5peJeLo3IHGcB5_sV808qAWkG3gRiWaEP6NrFpYOEcJmtPrDse55q3G2RqyEgsh_9Q/s200/IMG_4988.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNsXRFn7S4lgAqrnn2Q7kMS9TSK7JweBxBhNF-ou7GpIktSMeLoAGaVPuAZ3DfbLM1tuL8eMPVmtofq41u44-Eem4uFuvQkFUYaZ56hyphenhyphenTOG-cgwu0J0yptrFWAlGDuXIdoQRHWg/s1600/IMG_5041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNsXRFn7S4lgAqrnn2Q7kMS9TSK7JweBxBhNF-ou7GpIktSMeLoAGaVPuAZ3DfbLM1tuL8eMPVmtofq41u44-Eem4uFuvQkFUYaZ56hyphenhyphenTOG-cgwu0J0yptrFWAlGDuXIdoQRHWg/s200/IMG_5041.JPG" width="150" /></a>The food in this area was very authentic. Vendors like tiny alleys and sold various steaming dishes that they cooked outside, in front of the 'restaurant's' seating area. It was all delicious, even if we had no idea what we were ordering. I came to love these green or yellow things that looked like pancakes but actually had something like cinnamon jelly inside. I did not eat any squid on a stick, although it was everywhere and in every other person's hand. Squid is a popular dish in Korea as indicated by the abundance of it on the streets and pictured on every sign.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJAsT8YESRmxUEVJSaf0GzDBP8v4rmKKv6dZ6DBg0nd3n7aidSsqVK0oMvskV6DY07hoGNodxhH2Lj6p_lAjIWdtu8mogkGD0qZutnIDXQGMgsBFcCECDS4KBUgxI4ZY3kvxmqA/s1600/IMG_5021.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLJAsT8YESRmxUEVJSaf0GzDBP8v4rmKKv6dZ6DBg0nd3n7aidSsqVK0oMvskV6DY07hoGNodxhH2Lj6p_lAjIWdtu8mogkGD0qZutnIDXQGMgsBFcCECDS4KBUgxI4ZY3kvxmqA/s200/IMG_5021.JPG" width="150" /></a>At the Dongdaemun shopping area, we walked in and out of all the famous shopping malls, stuffed full of vendors and people. It's not like a mall back home at all. It's more like a hundred tiny shops selling the same thing, but set in such a way that each floor is its own crowded maze for you to make it out of. There were no traditional goods, so we honestly bought nothing. Although, we made our most important find here - hot dogs that are dipped in batter like a corn dog, but then also dipped in french fries before being cooked all together. These things would be a hit at fairs back home. I'm thinking this may be a future career maker for me.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYsLJyIS3Zidv8vkq00EZ2MrcLbvsvq2Twrpvx_wl0b9q06nnUCYDLNXu4opfvwMS2aqSSzu2q3Oei-quZ0QSsqu_yx91EIsWd3WWdurlahKhb4_JkY2-INADx_Ik-a-97K_9vEA/s1600/IMG_5129.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYsLJyIS3Zidv8vkq00EZ2MrcLbvsvq2Twrpvx_wl0b9q06nnUCYDLNXu4opfvwMS2aqSSzu2q3Oei-quZ0QSsqu_yx91EIsWd3WWdurlahKhb4_JkY2-INADx_Ik-a-97K_9vEA/s200/IMG_5129.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNGfRZkwwOvZ5ScVdoEd04m_Y9SRqnVA08j2ZSFXFXnXbNVQWjM3qBxgBztCkCi49NCPdsvSkUgZxjVL1t_7ZVxuWTG8jjoeeUxYLf2QjMeecD7uRiswJbPZoC8NrY2DFUteL1A/s1600/IMG_5064.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvNGfRZkwwOvZ5ScVdoEd04m_Y9SRqnVA08j2ZSFXFXnXbNVQWjM3qBxgBztCkCi49NCPdsvSkUgZxjVL1t_7ZVxuWTG8jjoeeUxYLf2QjMeecD7uRiswJbPZoC8NrY2DFUteL1A/s200/IMG_5064.JPG" width="150" /></a><br />
We did one other historical tour in the city, visiting first Jongmyo Royal Ancestral Shrine and then the palace area of Changgyeonggung. Jongmyo enshrines the spirit tablets of Joseon Dynasty kings and queens. It was largely empty, which gave us the chance to walk unhindered on the same stone paths that the royalty of Korean past had walked. Those some stone paths... they are killer on a kid in a stroller though. Jongmyo is connected by a footbridge to the palace area so you can visit both for about a $1. On the palace grounds we walked around the homes of previous kings, queens and concubines, originally built in 1418 but burned during the Japanese invasion in 1592 and rebuilt in 1616. Neither of these places was what I would expect when it comes to something being created for royalty, but I think other country's elaborate ways have irrevocably altered the image in my head of what a palace is. What I did find said is that the Japanese during their colonial rule of Korea, turned the palace and its grounds into a zoo. It took years of restoration in the 1980s for the Koreans to reclaim their palace's former state. Nonetheless, both of these places are listed on UNESCO's World Cultural Heritage list and that made them important for us to see.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDjHa-k3rH1cacS2dBiDj8qpJ5m3l9e83Nte4xsdycdMNKn32C8zAroyCa7RqoAzX6eFI1yvfpJwXA2qGOipd1My7tL62aF7NjuECbHAFo9boHlmZGXHRewiZmG0zY5ixR1cb2qg/s1600/IMG_5152.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDjHa-k3rH1cacS2dBiDj8qpJ5m3l9e83Nte4xsdycdMNKn32C8zAroyCa7RqoAzX6eFI1yvfpJwXA2qGOipd1My7tL62aF7NjuECbHAFo9boHlmZGXHRewiZmG0zY5ixR1cb2qg/s200/IMG_5152.JPG" width="150" /></a></div>After we left the palace grounds, we took a rough map and headed off in the direction of the Syngman Rhee Memorial Museum, his former residence Ihwajang. It is located in the off-Broadway area of Seoul. The map didn't make it looks as difficult as it turned out to be finding it. After a few stops and starts and a few kind strangers pausing to help us even as we asked in a language they didn't understand, we finally made it up a steep hill on a winding street. Only, the museum isn't open at one would consider museum hours. We managed only to get to the gates, ponder for a few minutes why the first president would keep his home in this crowded area, before we gave up and turned around to head back down the hill.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJV6r1nD76_OZYPiTZxOvR0ZitnL8ZwSfB6PkGKpqgjxelWDHmIcskWB3QBt_zG4KxMXbYP1gCcLIhCZ_qlcpTuQf9RRgIKrnSBbTbYOD-2uKKojCma75k23EY-Myy-v_wH5jPw/s1600/IMG_5172.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQJV6r1nD76_OZYPiTZxOvR0ZitnL8ZwSfB6PkGKpqgjxelWDHmIcskWB3QBt_zG4KxMXbYP1gCcLIhCZ_qlcpTuQf9RRgIKrnSBbTbYOD-2uKKojCma75k23EY-Myy-v_wH5jPw/s200/IMG_5172.JPG" width="200" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kyCQSKmpIXlbFfTXXKIrCH3q-L2OYNjWSZHwv79Je4nSSi5r6UYSLx5-nyev8Fv9iSg-rLUUnjO_LGdArWG-ZgTvYLDNh6Ssac2cCZTEzSJvrJWwJ4PEZ5k3RSNmKSuH3gdfWg/s1600/IMG_5173.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4kyCQSKmpIXlbFfTXXKIrCH3q-L2OYNjWSZHwv79Je4nSSi5r6UYSLx5-nyev8Fv9iSg-rLUUnjO_LGdArWG-ZgTvYLDNh6Ssac2cCZTEzSJvrJWwJ4PEZ5k3RSNmKSuH3gdfWg/s200/IMG_5173.JPG" width="150" /></a>For our last night, we again chose Korean barbecue. But instead of the fancy joints we had previously gone to, we did the real deal - one of those restaurants we found everywhere that had clear plastic acting as an awning, red plastic stools that surrounded a metal table with a whole in the middle for where the hot coals would go. It was as delicious as all the fancy places and at half the price and double the kimchi. If we weren't considered kimchi addicts before, we could definitely be considered one now.<br />
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Korea was good. I'm glad for this last little adventure.<br />
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My dad was never in Seoul. His part in the war and his place in Korea was further south. Maybe I didn't do the same things he did. Maybe I didn't see the same things he did. But for the fact I went to the place where he lived and breathed and learned, I may not know him any better, but it somehow makes me feel closer to him. He'd probably only insert some smart ass comment here. Have at it, Dad. Have at it.Kimono Karenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07518389327467448622noreply@blogger.com5