31st December, Friday. Fukuoka.

It was New Year’s Eve.
And for the Yasui family it was a day to clean up the house to get ready for the new year, just like how my family behaves the day before Chinese New Year.

And cooking. Cooking up a big feast for New Year’s day.

The only thing I could do was to get out of the way.

So I updated my diary and photos during the morning, and then Chika and I went to Genki club again for a pre new year wash and massage.

Apart from the mochi we made 2 days ago, the other food to eat leading up to the new year is soba noodles.

The family was also looking forward to eating live prawns on New Year’s day. That’s right, not raw prawns, LIVE prawns.

And this is something I cannot figure out. They keep the prawns alive in saw dusts, nothing else. Apparently the prawns go into a hibernating state when submerged in saw dusts. I googled it up and saw some Texas fisherman using the same trick for bait, but nothing explains how exactly prawns can survive without water.

So we had soba for lunch and dinner. And the night ended with a major concert involving all celebrities in Japan, including Mickey Mouse.

And then I took my final photo of 2011.

 

30th December, Thursday. Fukuoka.

Baby, baby, baby.
This trip to Fukuoka had been nothing but babysitting.
It seemed like the normal thing to do in rural Japan, and I could understand how women would think they are imperfect by not having these little things running around.

So I cooked lunch today for the family. I wanted to make simple Carbonara but completely screwed it up because the cream, cheese, and bacon in Japan were different that what I was used to. It wasn’t a big deal, it was just tasteless. In the ended we added some mentaiko and it became some sort of weird spicy roe creamy dish.

While I was cooking, Chika’s cousin was trying to figure out how to transfer the video from her Sony camcorder into a DVD. In the end they called customer service and surprisingly the Japanese lady on the other line took them through step by step. I couldn’t remember the last time I had faith in customer service through the phone.

I went to Tenjin city in the afternoon with Ema because Chika wanted to meet up with her friend. Ema then left me for another friend in the city. So for the first time in Fukuoka, I was alone.

And I started looking for the Tower records building I visited 9 months ago. It took me a while but I had fun walking around the little street.

I spent a long time listening to CDs and browsing books for the afternoon so photography wasn’t exactly on my priority list. What surprised me was how comfortable I was being alone. I managed situations pretty well. A lady actually understood that I’d like to leave my bag at the counter while I browsed some books. The trick is not to master what to say, but to master what to hint. I also saw a familiar shop.

What was Max Brenner doing in Japan? Who knows, but it was a little pathetic shop in a big mall and the salesgirl didn’t look really interested either.

The day got dark around 5pm again, and the ice skating rink outside became illuminated. It is like a mini Japanese drama set up. 5 days after Christmas, I saw some Christmas activity.

I then walked to this building called Loft where they sell interesting funky stuff. Even the tape dispensers are shaped like doughnuts. I didn’t know what to think. Yummy I guess?

There was a section filled with New Year cards. But most importantly New Year cards about the year of Dragon. It was pretty awesome.

As I was walking to meet up with Ema at the station, all the Yatai owners were springing into action. Pity I couldn’t try any. We took a train to Hawkstown mall to meet up with Chika because she was catching a movie with her high school friend. Mari-san asked about my age and I asked her to guess. Her first guess was 34. But the second was spot on. Why the 6 year difference I’d never know.

So we all snuck into Chika’s little car and made way to Nagahama for ramen. Chika wanted to try the shop, while Ema insisted on trying the Yatai food stalls. They both got what they wanted. The ramen was alright. Not as good as Ichiran, but better than Nikki.

After our meal we walked out towards the Yatai and it was amazing how they could operate like that. Having heaters in a little tent with transparent curtains while the waiters tried hard to attract customers. One gave me the peace sign from far away.

We then dropped Ema off because she’s off drinking with her friends, and Chika drove Mari-san home.

 

29th December, Wednesday. Fukuoka.

Today was a recovery day after the heavy mochi making experience.

Chika took me to Nikki Ramen for lunch. It was supposed to be another famous spot for ramen.

I ordered ramen with egg. But little did I know they actually cracked a raw egg in the bowl. It was a very weird experience for me. I thought the hot broth would cook the egg a bit, but it didn’t. So it was a bit icky, but it was alright.

We then went to the local camera shop near Susenji station to get my films developed. An hour later, the guy told me 1 of the film was completely empty. Apparently some light leakage happened. Part of me suspected that the shop screwed up and made me pay for it anyway. I couldn’t remember what photos was on that particular roll, so I guess it would hit me later on. (Yup, it was the roll in Kyoto in To-ji.)

The highlight of the day was discovering my very own cookie brand in the supermarket. I was very looking forward to tasting it.

Chika’s parents cooked this stuffed beancurd dish for dinner.
They sure like to eat from a giant pot.

And then the usual babysitting and TV followed the night.
I realized we had  less than a week left in Japan.

 

28th December, Tuesday. Fukuoka.

Today was Mochi-tsuki day for the Yasui family.

Mochitsuki is the making of ‘Mochi’.
It is a sticky chewy dish Japanese eat during new year.
They use it for dessert too, most commonly wrapped around red bean or green tea pastes.

I only realised today that Mochi is simply mashed glutinous rice.
The traditional way, (which is also the Yasui family way) is to put hot steamed glutinous rice in this big giant rock bowl, and let two people take turns to smash it with wooden hammers. Once it reaches a certain texture, an experienced ‘judge’ will come out and give it some final touches while another person hammers away. He then brings the hot giant blob of sticky rice to a station and all the women will gather and start to squeeze out little balls from it.

It was fun for the first 20 minutes, until Chika mentioned that they had a couple hundred kilos of rice to plow through. Then I realized why the whole family, even the office staff were there to help out.

I kid you not, we made mochi’s from 10am – 6.30pm. And while hammering sticky rice doesn’t sound like a tough job, what we were doing wasn’t any different to repeatedly smashing a bat into a hard rock.

But I could also see it was a family gathering occasion. We had plenty of food, drinks, (alcohol!) and everyone was catching up while they took rest from making the mochi’s.

Chika’s uncle was also there. Over the past he had suffered 3 strokes and still ignored the doctor’s advice to stop eating meat. ‘ I am now strolling between the doors of life and death’, he said.

There was another 70 year-old worker who told Chika that one day he slipped in the bath and fell. ‘I stopped breathing for a while, but my wife fed me some water so I was ok.’

Only Japanese can make ignorance sounds so poetic. And funny.

My wrist was hurting towards the end and that little muscle between the thumb and index finger was totally swollen.

Chika and I drove to Genki Club to wash away the sweat. We were so tired we just had dinner at the food court. I ordered the tan tan noodles and surprisingly it tasted exactly like the tan tan noodles in Kenzan, Melbourne. I started suspecting they use the same sauce mix.

We went home and passed out.

 

27th December, Monday. Fukuoka.

Chika was hungover today.

I did’t even remember when she entered the room, but I was guessing she had a good time with her friends.

Ema dropped us at Marinoa shopping square during noon on the way to her own meeting.

And like a drunken person, Chika wanted to have pizza and pasta for lunch.

Japanese pasta is very wet and I started to understand why Chika cooked really crappy pasta when we first met.

We asked the information counter if they had any book or CD stores but the lady said ‘sorry we only sell clothes.’ I slowly realised that Marinoa shopping square is actually a factory outlet store equivalent.

So pardon me for not taking any photos, because I’d feel ridiculous taking photos in a factory outlet store.

I startled myself by remembering where the shops were although we only came here once 10 months ago.

We walked in a Coach shop and Chika went crazy knowing that they were having an extra 30% off on top of the 50% discount. It was only applicable to the men’s section so she now owns a man’s wallet.

(I was standing there going ‘what’s Coach?’)

I bought a pair of Asics Kayano 17 running shoes for 10000 yen (AUD$125. Australia retails for $269). I have decided to go for comfort rather than style while shooting weddings. Sure it looks ugly but my feet hates me for wearing leather shoes on a 15 hour shoot.

We tried Japanese Starbucks for the first time, and against better judgement I ordered a hot green tea red bean latte. It was rubbish but Chika was ok with it. It tasted like off soy chai latte, even the chocolate marshmallow cookie couldn’t save it.

At 6pm we took a bus to Maenohama station and I bought some instant noodles with a polar bear face wrapper. We then caught the subway to Susenji station tried out this soba chain store nearby. Chika then called her dad to pick us up and that was pretty much our day.

Just shopping.

26th December, Sunday. Fukuoka.

The hotel served buffet breakfast in a giant hall. And at that moment the tourists really hit us in the face. There were instructions written in English, Korean, traditional AND simplified Chinese. I had no idea what to eat so I took a bit of everything (as you do in a buffet).

I then spent some time taking photos of the hotel.

Before checking out we bought some tea. Ureshino green tea is known to be quite up there.

Ureshino is really like an evolved, easier accessible version of Izu. Like I said before, an average combination of all the places we’ve been to so far.

We then drove to this place where I don’t really remember the name anymore. Apparently there lied the third biggest (maybe, top three at least) shrine in Japan.

Initially we thought it was just a fleet of steps to reach the top. But like a video game, some hidden passage keeps showing up and the next thing we knew it became a 40 minute hiking trip. The view was worth it even though everyone was really running out of breath.

In the old days people would say taking the hike is a test from the heavens. From my opinion the shrine was just trying to avoid natural disasters.

We then went to Kashima, this one stop shop that sells nothing but souvenirs. The Yasui family is the type that really dives into souvenir buying, which was against everything I was taught. (I heard about tours which they lock tourists in souvenir shops.) Chika once explained that in Japan they have food products that are specific to individual states, and that makes travelling more compelling. We really spent an hour there just for groceries and had some udon noodles next door for lunch.

We took the highway home this time and guess what? We stopped by a highway rest station to look at more souvenirs. I bought some sweet snacks just for the occasion.

Even though we didn’t do much, I was pretty tired when we reached home. Chika’s friend was having some dinner party and she gave me a choice to go. I really didn’t feel like it so I opted to stay home and watch TV with the parents intead. It’s pretty unadventurous of me I know, but hey, I had a choice and I made it.

I thought it was going to be a night of me updating the journal next to the telly, but Ryuji came in the last minute. The wife has brought the children to the mother-in-law’s again so he was looking for some dinner.

We watched a tv program about Japanese celebrities challenging the No.1 female player from America. (Where do they find the budget?) We then went to the Genki Club together and once more I used my broken Japanese to ask Ryuji ‘ are you happy with your life?’, ‘what is  your hobby’ and ‘Australia is an expensive country’.

Ryuji then brought me to Ichiran ramen.

We often see in movies and mangas about ‘magical’ ramen experience. Ichiran was such a place for me. It must be something in the broth, because I could taste not only the tonkotsu pork broth, but also some spicy miso.

The interior was really weird. Customers had to sit in between slots like a prison visiting centre, and your connection to the outside world was completely eliminated. You were given a form to tick on your preferences (thickness, hardness, green onions or white etc.) and you slide the paper under this tiny space in front of your wooden wall. (Did I mention prison?) I am sure somewhere there is an article explaining how all this enhances our taste buds.

I started to understand what constitutes as great ramen in Fukuoka. The noodles are not as ‘egg-y’ as the Tokyo ones. They are much thinner and white in colour, and it’s supposed to be firm and al-dente. In fact, it reminded me of those hand made wonton noodles in Malaysia. The rest is up to the broth.

Ryuji and I both ordered another serving of noodles. We became disgustingly full we couldn’t be bothered talking on the drive back. Ryuji said the next place I had to try was Nikki ramen. I honestly didn’t think it could top tonight’s experience.

I went home and made a lot of progress with the journal while the family watched this program about celebrities exchanging diaries and crying while reading the diaries later while having karaoke competitions.

 

25th December, Saturday. Saga.

Except for some commercials selling fried chicken on TV, you’d never expect it to be Christmas day in Fukuoka.

We made some Onigiri’s for breakfast. Apparently the trick is to run the sea weed on the stove for a few seconds (for that slight crisp and burnt taste) before you wrap it around the rice.

After breakfast we got on the car and made our way towards Saga. Chika had a family trip planned and she assumed that I understood what was going on. I didn’t.

Nearly an hour’s drive later we arrived at what appeared to be a pottery school. We were close to Imari, and it was popular for that. It was so spontaneous that I actually enjoyed it.

I later found out we won’t be receiving our pottery bowls until 6 months later. (WTF, right?) Also, I knew it was just a matter of time before someone made a ‘Ghost’ reference and sure enough, Chika’s father crept up behind her and started singing ‘Unchained Melody’.

We then headed towards the actual spot in Imari where all shops sold plates and bowls and tea cups, you know, hardcore pottery. (Tried to anyway, we got lost along the way and some kids pointed us to the right direction.)

I was expecting more varieties but Imari was only famous for porcelain, which I wasn’t a big fan of. It reminded me of the Chinese movie ‘Opium War’, in which they used a porcelain vase to depict the late Qing dynasty of China. (tall, proud but extremely fragile.)

This is one of the problems with travel purchases. It is all about context. When you enter a shop full of porcelain pottery, it is easy to be attracted to the idea of owning a beautiful porcelain plate. Because it is on a beautiful display case next to other beautifully displayed porcelain plates.

But once you bought one and return to your own country, you removed the plate out of its context. Now all you have is a funny looking plate that is so out of place you could only put it on display. I am speaking on behalf of all the funny looking souvenirs my parents collected over the years.

Anyway, it started snowing and we simply had a quick lunch at the information centre. We ordered from their porcelain menu and they served my curry udon noodle on porcelain bowls. (I get it, you guys REALLY dig porcelains.)

We then drove for another hour to Ureshino and checked into our hotel. It seemed to be a tourist town famous for onsen. It seemed bigger and more established compared to Kurokawa. It was weird, the town felt like the sum of all the places Chika and I had travelled to so far.

Before dinner we took a quick bath. In the shower they offer bath gel and shampoo made from horse oil. I tried the sauna for 10 minutes and declared that as my exercise for the week.

Dinner was shabu-shabu with Saga beef and pork. It was too fatty for me, so I couldn’t even finish half of my portion.

Chika then had a very long argument with her dad about the definition of being happy. She thinks her brother is not having enough private time because he had to take over the family business. The father thinks real happiness is sacrificing your youth to build something for your family. I drank my beer and nodded to both side.

There was nothing to do at night, so Chika and I went for more massage. At this point I think I should clarify that I am not some massage addict. The Yasui house was very traditional, which means all floors were made from tatami’s. And tatami is very, very hard. Every morning I wake up with really sore back and neck. That’s why I went for massages whenever I could.

We finished the night by watching a TV programme about celebrities who’ve been wronged by SMAP. They then interrogated the pop team and in the end one member gets tortured in hot water.

The power of celebrity in Japan fascinates me. More about that later.

I slept trying to remember the tune to the theme song of Coca-Cola’s commercial.

*Mentaiko is marinated pollock roe. It is like the salmon roe but much finer and pink in colour.  It is very common among Japanese cuisine, especially in Fukuoka. According to Wikipedia, it was originated from Korea.

24th December, Friday. Fukuoka.

It snowed briefly today, just after breakfast.

The tv was showing a special news about a special rabbit.

We went to Chika’s family office to use the internet. The family dog Tico came with us.

I confirmed our flight details to Malaysia the next week and peeked at Facebook. And for a moment there, I’d completely forgotten about Christmas. I’m secretly happy that I didn’t have to deal with all the ’so what are you doing for xmas’ questions in Australia.

We then took a long walk to Chika’s ancestor grave site, and looked at Tico marking her territory on everything.

There was an alarming number of crows. According to Chika it’ because the mountains were being dug out, so they have lost their home.

In the afternoon Chika’s father drove us to Maki no Udon (because he didn’t trust us with the car ourselves) for lunch. This was the first place I ate the last time we came to Fukuoka. So it was a nostalgic visit.

We then went to Uniqlo next door and bought a year’s worth of clothes. Apparently old granny sweater design is the next big thing in Japan.

Chika’s dad then drove us to the closest Aeon shopping mall, which looked identical to the one in Klang, down to the floor plan. Chika brought me to try Mister Donuts, which I guess was Fukuoka’s Krispy Kreme.

While we walked into the food section we heard bells ringing, and then a swarm of housewives followed the bell like a herd of sheeps. Fresh bread! Not to lose out, we also queued up and elbowed a couple of old ladies for our fresh garlic bread .

When we reached home we found out Ema was baking pizzas for dinner using a fry pan. I didn’t know how, but she did it. (Except for the one with the potatoes, they were tough.) Anyway, the pizzas went really well with our garlic bread. The mother also bought some roast chicken from the supermarket. Ryuji was around while the wife took the kids to her family.

The interesting about Yasui family, is how unforgiving they are with food. Everyone just went ‘ptuii’ at the hard potatoes and dumped them straight to the bin. They didn’t do the ‘oh it’s ok, at least the seasoning is good’ or ‘nah it’s not that hard’ to Ema. Just ‘PTUI!’ Harsh.

And that was how the Yasui family celebrated Christmas eve.

We watched more television and I updated my travel journal.

 

23rd December, Thursday. Fukuoka.

Chika wanted to make lunch for the family today.

We went to this local cheap supermarket ‘Direx’ to buy some groceries. It is perhaps the equivalent of Aldi in Australia. I think that was the only time we left the house today. Garlic sounds the same as ‘human flesh’ in Japanese. So my brain kinda chuckled every time someone said garlic.

Chika put on the apron and made a clam pasta, which was pretty good and another Japanese style Mentaiko pasta, which was pretty weird.

We did some babysitting after lunch and that was it.

Hiryu is the oldest son of Chika’s brother, and he was definitely smarter than his age. The younger brother Ryusei behaved more like an innocent kid compared to his older brother. But that’s probably why he got bullied so often.

We literally did nothing in front of the television(I fell asleep at one point) until dinner time, which was also prepared by Chika.  Nanban-tsuke is a type of pickled fish using yuzu but Chika did it with lemon that night.

During the night time we went to genki club to take a bath. It was also the first time I drove a car in Japan. At least I’ve put my international license to good use.

The TV was showing this Japanese movie that was a total rip off from ‘Ghost’, down to the Whoopi Goldberg’s character.

It was the most uneventful and relaxing day of the trip so far.

22nd December, Wednesday. Fukuoka.

Fukuoka was fucking cold. Maybe because there were mountains surrounding the house, but it was the coldest night we had ever experience. (Plus the family’s house has no heating. We later learned that the coldest was yet to come.)

Japanese TV programs seemed to take this neutral stance when it comes to product placement. Maybe since I knew almost nothing about the language, I didn’t feel like I was being sold when products were being sold. They didn’t do taglines or someone saying ‘don’t walk, run!’ like Australian morning TV.

Perhaps the Japanese simply lack the vocabulary for hard-sell marketing.

Also, that Japanese maid drama picked up a 40% rating on TV. I was amazed that such rating still exists in the television world, and secondly, tv show ratings are announced on tv. (I smell foul play.)

We went to Genki-Club on our first morning in Fukuoka.

It is a public bath house which you pay 500 yen to enter and shower naked with other naked men.

I booked a 60 minute full body massage and the lady with her limited English advised me to: ‘stretch more because your muscle is stiff too much.’ From time to time she would say ‘this is hurts’ and proceeded to inflict pain on my body.

Chika’s brother took us out to a ramen place for lunch. The shop is famous for its thick and oily broth which I cannot say I was a big fan. They had certificates on the wall saying they’re ranked Fukuoka No.10 and Kyushu No.16. You could really smell the pork fat and bone before tasting the noodles. Clearly I was the odd one out because the 3 Yasui siblings were slurping away and drinking the soup to the last drop.  Anyway, I was happy to finally try Kyushu ramen.

The brother dropped us at a station, and we rode to Maenohama for Chika’s hair salon appointment. Armed with only a rough verbal direction from her mother(go straight for 10 minutes after the station after turning left and right), we found the place. Once I made sure she was comfortable I left to take a walk around the neighbourhood.

On the way I saw a very creepy miffy doll spying on me.

And this shabby little place with tons of Moet champagne bottles.

It was a simple little stretch of a street and it was getting so cold that I walked in a Uniqlo and started shopping. Chika needed a jacket anyway since she forgotten it at home. I knew a sale was happening in 2 days, so I simply tried on the clothes for size. I bought a jacket for Chika and a pyjama set because I needed  something thicker than my shorts during the night.

Chika seemed happy with her haircut even though honestly I couldn’t tell the difference. (A fool-proof tip for commenting women’s hair: It is very refreshing!)

On the way back to the station, we saw this massage shop that offers discount for couple: 5000 yen for 40 minutes. So I had a massage for the 2nd time in a day.

We took a train back to Susenji and Chika’s father picked us up.

The father made congee, and I heated up my bento box from Kyoto station yesterday. It was a crunchy chicken katsu don box.

It was a pretty relaxing night. I wrote on the journal while the family watched TV.