Kyuushoku (School Lunch)

While I've appreciated the return to normalcy my life has gained these last two months after experiencing the earthquake of March 11, I've felt that nothing I could write about here would be worth writing or reading in comparison. But I realized this week that I've not written much about Japanese school life on this blog. So I'll start with my favorite topic, according to the count of my blog labels -- food, specifically school lunch.
 

Kyuushoku in a Japanese shougakkou (elementary school) looks nothing like school lunch in an American elementary school. Here in Japan, kyuushoku is prepared at the school itself. There is no central kitchen where a single dietician works to plan the menu for the entire district, oversee the large team of cooks who prepares the food, and disperse it to the individual schools in the district where it is reheated before it is served. Each shougakkou has its own kitchen; and one dietician manages the school lunch program for a small group of schools. So each district's shougakkou no kyuushoku could be different on any given day. And a shougakusei (elementary school student) will never bring a lunchbox to school... well, that is unless his family demands that he be allowed to bring his own obentou (packed lunch) after a nuclear reactor disaster causes a radiation-in-the-food scare. (Kindergartners don't attend elementary school in Japan. They attend a youchien and have to bring an obentou to school. And junior high and high schools have different lunch programs as well.) 

Additionally, there is no cafeteria in which all the students eat. The cooks portion out the food for each class into large containers and send it to the classrooms, where the students eat at their desks that they have moved together into small groups. At the beginning of the lunch period, the students put on white smocks, white hats, and masks to cover their noses and mouths. They cover their desktops with their placemats. They wipe off the serving table. And they assist the teacher with distributing the food to everyone in the classroom. In the younger grades, perhaps the students just distribute the rice, bread, or noodles; milk; and straws. But in the older grades, they also dish the food into the bowls and plates. Each class manages the actual food dispersal differently -- some teachers choose to have all the students form a line while others choose to have only the group leaders queue up. But no one serves oneself, instead placing trays on other students' desks. And no one can eat before everyone has been served and the "Itadakimasu!" (literally, "receive gratefully") has been said, which means that food is sometimes taken from bowls or plates that have already been placed in front of other people. (Remember, they're all wearing hats, masks, and smocks. So no one is breathing on or touching food until after the "Let's eat!" signal.)

Through no fault of the school district cooks, I remember a lot of fried foods, hamburgers, canned fruits and vegetables, instant potatoes, and rolls from my elementary school lunch days. Even though I may not have taken my lunch to school very frequently (I honestly can't remember what I usually did.), I remember not really liking the hot meal options that I could get at school. And I can't say that I like every kyuushoku meal that I eat here each day, especially on the days when traditional Japanese food is served -- like stuff with lots of seaweed, whole dried baby fish, or fish paste products, to name but a few. But I do like knowing that the ingredients in my kyuushoku are fresh, for I can see the unevenness to the carrot slices rather than cubic perfection. And on the rare days when we are treated to fruit, I know that my two cherries, 1/6 grapefruit, or 1/2 kiwi are not sweetened with added sugars.

Kyuushoku isn't perfect. I think there's entirely too much emphasis placed on carbohydrates in the Japanese diet. (Potatoes and bread or potatoes and rice in the same meal is not very nutritious.) Non-soup vegetables are generally no more than 1/4 to 1/2 cup per serving. And fruit is served only a couple times per month. But the thing I most like about kyuushoku is the thing that originally most bothered me, which I hinted about earlier. When I first saw food being scooped out of the dishes that were sitting in front of students, I was upset, for I felt that the portion sizes of the non-rice foods allotted by the dietician were far too small. And my opinion became further solidified when my start-of-class question, "How are you?" was answered with, "I"m hungry!" in the two class periods following lunch. (American portion sizes are ridiculously huge, as I've already mentioned, so I'm not advocating American-styled or -sized lunches, either.) But the more I've experienced lunch in the Japanese classroom and have compared it with the Wednesday night dinner experiences I've had with the foreigners at church, the more I've grown to see its merits rather than its demerits.

In comparing and contrasting this kyuushoku time with our church potluck time, the more taken aback I am by we foreign Christians' actions. We serve ourselves during Wednesday evening meals at church, when shouldn't we serve each other? (If Hard Rock Café can get it right, should we be able to?) Some of us in the group gluttonously mound food onto our plates and then don't wait to make sure that everyone has gotten a meal before we start digging in, when sometimes the group responsible for the meal hasn't made enough food. And sometimes we fail to show altogether, which means that the meal-prep crew has spent too much money on too much food for too few people and the clean-up crew is reduced to one person.

Last August I wrote a post about how I felt that many of the Japanese people I've met often act quite Christ-like, despite their quickness to say that "Japanese people" are not Christian. (I enclose Japanese people in quotes because to be Japanese means that one is culturally Buddhist, whether or not one is religiously Buddhist.) I know this is because of the collectivist nature of their culture. And I know that good things can and do come out of an individualist culture like that of the U.S. But I wish that when surrounded by an others-first culture for more hours of the week than our own me-first culture on Wednesday nights, we Christian English teachers might learn by cultural osmosis if not actual study the truth behind the apostle Paul's instruction for how to behave when sharing a fellowship meal (a.k.a. love feast). In addition to the U.S. school lunch program needing a kyuushoku-esque Food Revolution á la Jamie Oliver, perhaps the foreigner population at church needs Paul to give us a Love Feast Revolution.

Until next time...

It's more than a t.

Being a Protestant Christian, I never realized how much the Sign of the Cross has shaped some foreign non-Christians' understanding of Christianity. Granted, Protestant Christians don't have as distinctive a worship gesture as do Catholic Christians. And my lack of realization probably says more about me than I intend it to, since it may signify that I rarely attempt to look at the world through another person's eyes. But I find it very interesting that every time I mention to my Japanese teachers something that I did at or with my kyoukai (church), they cross themselves. So that presents the question, What do I presume to understand about other people's religions based on something as simple and as non-revealing as a gesture?

Until next time...

Being a Christian in Japan

At the spring retreat for the foreigner population at my church, our minister shared with us that Japan is a nation of approximately 127 million people. Of that 127 million people, only one million people are considered to be Christian, with Catholicism and Protestantism evenly represented at around 500,000 followers each. Doing the math, you can see that fewer than 1% of the country's population is Christian. And of that one million person Christian population, only 1,000 or so are on the same branch of the church tree as I. And those 1,000 people are distributed over approximately 60 churches served by 30 to 40 ministers. So when I had the opportunity to go last week with some members of my church to a small church about 90 minutes away from where I live, I was eager to go, as I wanted to see what it is like for these Christians to worship together on Sundays.

During the drive to this small church, I learned that it has three members - a husband and wife and another man. During the drive back from the church, I asked the minister and missionary how these three people receive teaching on Sunday mornings. Do they take turns sharing something they've learned from Scripture? I was told that different churches from our prefecture will take turns visiting this church once a month to encourage them. However, often it is only the minister from these other churches who visits. During the other Sundays of the month, the members will gather to sing together, take communion together, and listen to sermons on tape. It was fear of this very thing that caused me to not come to Japan all those years ago. I was afraid I would find myself living in a town with either no church or such a small church and that my faith would be negatively effected. And so I was struck by how blessed I am now to be in the city where I live, for I worship at the second largest church of my denomination in Japan.

To be a Japanese Christian is not an easy path to follow. Often a Japanese Christian is the only member of his or her family who is Christian. So sometimes family members are hostile toward him or her because of his or her faith that isn't keeping in line with the family values. And Japanese Christians may get blamed for any calamity that befalls the family, whether a logical connection can be made or not. So many Japanese Christians are secret Christians,  from their friends and neighbors and sometimes even their own family members.

I was amazed that the three Japanese members of this church have been able to remain faithful in a country where so many people have no faith or have lost faith. While I don't know how large their church was at its peak, as recently as last year it had five members. So their church is dying, which also is the norm in Japan. It astonishes me that the married couple goes to a church building on Sundays when they could just as easily worship together at home. I can only imagine that the Japanese collectivist tendency (focus on the group rather than on the individual) and/or compassion for the one man are what prompt them to leave their home each Sunday. And I imagine that for the one man, the time he spends with this couple each week is crucial to helping him maintain his faith, for if he has a family, it doesn't appear that they are believers.

I've tried to end this post a few different ways; but I'm having difficulty writing exactly what I want to say. So I'll just say this. Whether you are a Christian in a small or large church, please give thanks to God for the physical and spiritual blessings present in your church, lean on Him to help you strengthen your faith, and pursue meaningful relationships with your brothers and sisters in Christ.

Until next time...

Are you sure this is Africa?

Did you know that when you step foot in an embassy technically you're stepping foot on the soil of that country? Well, when one of my AET friends, A.T., who is Ethiopian-American, invited me a few weeks ago to attend a Japanese-Ethiopian culture night celebration with him and his wife at the Ethiopian embassy, I was more than ready to go. I wouldn't get a stamp in my passport for walking through the doors. And the scenery would look a whole lot more like Tokyo than Addis Ababa. But I'd be attending a state party in Ethiopia!

When yesterday arrived for our 12-member party to travel for the event, we had to make the decision of whether or not to go due to an incoming typhoon. Many of us would have preferred to stay home. But A.T. was so excited to share his country's food, music, and dancing with us that none of us could tell him no. So we piled into two vehicles and took off for Tokyo at 1pm Africa time, which means that while we were supposed to leave at 1pm, we actually left at 2pm. Unfortunately, that late departure was an unknown-at-the-time foreshadowing of how our travel to the party would go, for when we finally arrived at a metered parking lot that was as close as we could get to the embassy, A.T. told us that the party wasn't at the embassy at all but at another location instead. After another hour of cell-phone-GPS consulting, hailing a cab whose driver couldn't find the building, and pulling one of two Ethiopian guys who were walking on the street into said cab to lead us to our destination, we arrived completely frustrated. But thankfully the event was very enjoyable and most of us were able to forget about the stress of our travel during the course of the evening.

The event was attended mainly by Japanese people, naturally. However, there were several Ethiopian expatriates at the party. And A.T. introduced our group to the ambassador from Ethiopia. Unfortunately, I only got to see him rather than meet him.

The Ethiopian food that we ate was good but very spicy. Having become accustomed to much milder food this past six months, I don't know if I would have found the food to be so spicy if my U.S. palate were still intact. But my mouth was on fire with just a few bites and I was unable to finish my meal.

The Japanese dancers doing both traditional Japanese as well as traditional Ethiopian dances were quite good. But the best part of the evening was when the people attending the party were invited to join in with the dancing.

H.V. and N.N. dancing on the sidelines, although H.V. earlier in the evening had been one of the people to get up and perform with the dancers.

Ethiopian dancing heavily involves moving the shoulders, which the two Ethiopians in this picture were able to do quite well. J.M. couldn't quite manage the shoulders, although he would have been more than happy to show us the hips-driven Latin dances that he learned while growing up in Honduras.

I never made it to Africa last night. So I guess I'll just have to go at some point in the future. But at one of the traffic lights on the way home, I saw what is surely the world's smallest liquor store (and its bored-looking employee). If I'd wanted to lie down on the floor to measure the store's width, I would have touched the exterior wall with my head and the interior wall with my feet. (Please don't fail to notice the store's name.) When you live and work in a city as crowded as Tokyo, you make the most of every square inch.

Until next time...

Agape Ministry

The foreigner population at church has been studying the Gospel of Mark since the beginning of September. In our study each week, we read through one chapter eight times and reflect on that day's reading using the lens of a different question, e.g., Where did Jesus go?, What did Jesus do?, What did Jesus see?, etc. Along with independent reading and small group discussion each week, we also have a discipleship challenge to correlate with something from that week's reading that was particularly noteworthy. For this week's challenge, my discipleship group decided that we would help with the Agape Ministry at church.

Once a month, some members of my church join with some members of the Catholic church to serve curry and a short Bible message to the homeless of the city. I don't know why the homeless in the city are homeless, since Japanese families typically live multi-generationally under one roof. And I don't know the ministry's long-term goal regarding the homeless of the city. But I'm very glad that my group decided that we wanted to help with the short-term goal of meeting physical needs this week. It was rather awkward, since I can't speak Japanese, to work alongside strangers (especially when it came time to introduce ourselves and I was the first non-Catholic in the serving line to do so and didn't know how to say anything other than my name, which none of them had been saying!). And when I reflect on the fact that Jesus not only gave food to the hungry but actually ate with them, I feel that my curry-dishing skills weren't enough. But after living here for almost six months, I've come to expect that I will have numerous awkward encounters and that I won't be able to do what I'd like to do as a result of the communication barrier. Regardless, partnering with members of the Catholic church, when there often is still religious tension between Catholics and Protestants in the U.S., in order to show love in the name of Jesus, was a wonderful experience. I hope to be able to be involved in this ministry on a regular basis.

Until next time...

Food, Fridges, and Fellowship

Having arrived in Japan on Friday, my memories of these past three days are quite fuzzy. Physically I've been awake. But mentally? Most assuredly not always. I know I've done lots of eating - fried rice at a ramen house and at a Thai restaurant; edamame (Japanese soy beans), soba noodle soup, tempura shrimp, cucumber rolls, and "Mexican tortilla" rolls at a buffet-style sushi restaurant where one chooses from the food that passes by on a conveyor belt (quite fun!); and hot chocolate at Starbucks.

My buddy, C.G., who has been an Assistant English Teacher here for more than five years has been so great to help me start to feel comfortable in my apartment and with navigating the city. I've gone shopping to begin furnishing the homey touches to my apartment, since the apartment's three previous residents were guys whose tastes were more sparse than mine. (I wish I'd had my camera with me so that you could see the tricked out refrigerators that they have for sale here. I will be purchasing one since the one that comes with the apartment is a dorm-room sized cube, which considering the size of the apartment and the kitchen, is properly proportioned, I suppose. And the supplemental one purchased by a previous AET stands only waist-high.)

Although there is Japanese peanut butter, it is whipped and more like a dessert topping. So I was super happy when I found the natural peanut butter that I love at an imported foods store, considering that the traditional Japanese breakfast is mainly rice and natto (sp?) (fermented soybeans that one would hope taste better than their scent implies). However, buying a "loaf" of non-white bread constitutes three slices and a "loaf" of white bread constitutes eight slices. So peanut butter on toast for breakfast will be a treat; and oatmeal, thankfully supplied by C.G. and Costco-Japan(!), will be a regularity.

But the best experience that I have had so far was while worshiping with other Christians this morning. There is a large English-speaking group in the church, including people outside of the teachers from my AET program. So there is an English-speaking Bible class before the service; and the service is conducted in both Japanese and English. It was so amazing to see people of different backgrounds, nationalities, and languages united in worshiping God. At church today were native Japanese, African-Americans, Caucasian Americans, an Ethiopian American, a Honduran American, a Japanese American, a Canadian, and who knows what other hyphenated labels. Though we came from different places around the world, grew up speaking different languages, and may not have been able to communicate with each other without an interpreter, the realization that we all love God and were worshiping Him brought tears to my eyes.

Until next time...