Thank You, Thank You, Thank You

Posted on April 6, 2011 by Emily Cannell

Well Folks, my friend Chris over at Burning Bridges honored me with the “Versatile Blogger Award,” for which I am most grateful and humbled especially since I’m really a one schtick pony. I’ve seen this and two other awards circulate the blogosphere- the Memetastic Award and the Most Stylish Blogger Award- the latter I’ll never see without a legitimate New York  blow out and a Tyra Banks make over, and I must admit, that receiving the award has made me realize I am bona fide ” Blogger.” The reason is this. Like Chris, and admittedly, I’m plagiarizing liberally from her post now, since embarking upon the campaign to document this surreal journey for the Offspring, I now start my day with the newspaper, coffee and my favorite blog spots. Many of these sites found as my blogging cronies have been awarded with honors, and as water seeks its own level, they have nominated other worthy sites for recognition. My coffee list has grown.

As the rules dictate, I’m nominating the 7 blogs and linking to my favorite posts from the author. Then I will follow with the comments about myself.

So first- my favorite post from Chris at Burning Bridges where she terrifies us all regarding the life of a Grandparent. Read Here. Let’s all get healthy now so we have the energy to do the GP thing or at least lift the bottle of booze to our lips. I for one am going to start smoking again. What’s to lose?

So, without further ado, the nominees are:

Livelaughloveliquor: Truly one of the most hilarious posts ever written was “Post Traumatic Motherhood Syndrome.” Let’s face it- the early days of child rearing are brutal- it’s a good thing the curtain crawlers are so cute or the race would die out fast. This post will make those of us on the other side laugh and those of you going through it laugh and cry.

Some Species Eat Their Young In a rare look from the Dad’s perspective, Chase describes the antics of 4 children- I believe their might actually be 5- the oldest of whom masquerades as the Dad.

I Heart Mondegreens In Spain Michi is an American married to a Spaniard living in Spain. Her blog covers soup to nuts on life in Spain, this particular post tackles personal space and cussing style.

Kristen Lamb’s Blog– Kristen wrote a book called “We are Not Alone- The Writer’s Guide To Social Media,” her target audience being authors, however, she writes weekly about Twitter, writing for novels, and blogging. She has taught me how to use Twitter which was my go to source for information during the Earthquake and has given my very useful blogging tips.

Sinister Echoes Alannah is currently writing a book and she recently published a great piece on descriptive writing. I find myself the victim of the ‘ly syndrome-the lazy way to describe everything – I found her “Tall Dark and Handsome Syndrome” very enlightening.

Notes From Africa Lisa wrote a few posts regarding wilderness excursions in South Africa but this one is my all time favorite. Please click on all the links. I sent this to everyone I know.

Reinventing the Event Horizon-Notes from the Edge Truly a versatile blogger, Kathy has been all over the world. In this post, she interviews the former dictator of Haiti-Baby Doc Duvalier, describing in a series of 3 posts what one won’t see in the newspaper.

7 True Facts about myself- Uncensored.

I have moved 10 times in the last 23 years. (Across state or country borders- double that number if counting houses)

4 of those times have been to Philadelphia.

3 of my relatives signed Alabama’s secession from the Union.

I can roll my stomach, other than that, I possess no other God-given talents.

I am known to be a Cussing aficionado- also able to link several colorful words together in multiple languages. It makes me proud to have such command of the language.

Spouse is nice and I am usually not.

We are the crazy neighbors with  junk in the front yard- usually resembling something a gerbil would run through however in our case it is used as a launching pad for snowboarding or skateboarding and left to rot in the rain or snow.

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Playing it Safe

Posted on April 4, 2011 by Emily Cannell

The nuclear power plant deemed fully non-functional, the French have been brought in to decommission the leaking source of the daily Japacolpyse rumors, a process residents have been informed will take several months. I, becoming more green and Gumby-like with every report of a radiation level, have chosen a proactive approach to all possible scenarios being a firm believer in Abraham Lincoln’s approach,”If I had 8 hours a day to cut down a tree, I’d spend 6 hours sharpening my axe.”

My first stop was the American Embassy for Iodine tablets. For my maiden voyage in to an embassy I had various image capturing devices handy to document this exciting trek to the amazing Mecca for Visas, notarized documents, updated Passports, and marriage licenses. I knew when I was close due to guards posted in 100 yard increments within a mile of the compound. No doubt several high-tech surveillance systems coordinated operations simultaneously in order to protect the embassy, however, I noticed this operative immediately, surreptitiously washing the windows, spying on me as I watched him.

I approached the first check point where the Japanese guard demanded a viewing of my passport and a declaration of my intended purpose with the embassy. All business.

The second checkpoint. A much smaller, much older Japanese guard smiled warmly as I approached. The hairs on my arms stood on end. Both a suspicious and un-Japanese approach.

“Hello- how are you?” Just exactly why was the embassy hiring diminutive, retired Japanese men to guard the compound? Where were all the buffed Navy Seals?

I answered in Japanese to throw him off as I took measure of this unusual circumstance. Most Americans don’t speak a word.

“Ginki des.” He was smiling but his eyes weren’t.

A NINJA!

I knew it! It all made sense. Who needs Navy Seals when Ninja are available for protection? One wrong move and I’d be impaled by hundreds of Ninja stars. I looked around. I saw three other guards- all his age, his build, smiling at me- seemingly decrepit and harmless, all of whom in half a second, after a series of elaborate flips and leaps would have me on the ground, hog tied if I made any sudden, illogical movements. Better not to take out my camera. Or my cell phone- if one of them thought I was about to detonate, they’d all be on me.

He ushered me in the first screening area where I tripped the alarms before I set foot in the machine. That catapulted several Ninja in motion. Ninja #1 got out the wand. As he wanded all 20 brass buttons on my pea coat, watch, and bra straps, I surveyed the ceiling for hidden compartments where these wily devils prefer to hide. I saw at least two areas where trap doors were probably located. One signal from my captors, the trap doors would swing open and more Ninjas would swarm the screening area. I started to sweat.

Wait- I was only here for Iodine tablets. When you’re just a housewife the imagination just takes you away doesn’t it?

They confiscated my phone and camera. They knew all the secret hiding spots in a ladie’s hand bag, those damn Ninja. On to screening point #2. The Black Ninja never tire of playing cat and mouse with their prey. They wanded me yet again before allowing me in to the area with the government bureaucrats.

For the 15th time, I showed my passport to the 3, twelve year- old government employees dressed in their father’s suits working the iodine desk, signed a waiver, agreed not to take the poisonous tabs, so help me God, and got these:

I don’t know, maybe my expectations were high, however, I expected a bottle, not enough for a week. We do live here. This made me think that perhaps additional measures should be taken in the form of protecting the Clampitts just in the off-chance that something BAD were to happen. Something that might impact a body part other than the thyroid gland. Doesn’t radiation cause burns? I left the embassy contemplating other forms of protection. And I don’t mean this:

“Necessity is the Mother of Invention.” I was forced to find other ways, some non- government approved, to protect ourselves from potential nuclear fall out.

For instance, I read that in “hazardous areas,” people were encouraged to stay inside, turn off the heat, and close the windows. If venturing outside was necessary, one should cover all exposed skin and wear a mask. Luckily I found a figure flattering HazMat suit which enabled full range of motion. Spouse tried it on at the store:

I also believe one must protect one’s existing health in order to allow natural defenses to work effectively in a hostile environment. One of the mysteries of Japanese tv are the commercials. There are three items advertised, Proactive- with celebrity endorsements from Avril Lavigne and Justin Bieber, who claims the acne on his chin is from a microphone. Oh to be so lucky. Justin, I to suffer from acne on my chin, and it’s cause is hormonally related, as I suspect is yours, however in my case it’s due to menopause. Oops- sorry- did I expose my fangs? The second item is a GPS system sold by three newscasters, and the third, for varying conditions are herbal supplements. One of these supplements makes claims of being a panacea not only for weight loss, which every pill should claim as a benefit or side effect, but as an overall immunity booster. In these uncertain times, an immunity booster sounds like an ideal choice in the armamentarium against nuclear annihilation. I chose this one for several reasons.

First- it certainly looks like it undergoes a scientific process.

And next it’s made from natural ingredients. Sold.

What’s the worst that can happen? Ouiser will just make herself look like a:

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The New Normal

Posted on March 31, 2011 by Emily Cannell

The Offspring headed off for school an hour earlier with a drag in their step and cacophony of complaints on their lips as I merrily pushed them out the door to catch the bus for the first day back. Having not seen another soul in the building other than the receptionist, whether they would have company on the bus remained a mystery however, much to their consternation, I consoled them with the news that as in life, they would always have each other.

I, on the other hand, had given myself a week off from Japanese schooling with valid and compelling reasons such as, “I need to find bottled water” even though we’re guzzling it out of the tap, “I must volunteer to help those in need” which usually involves the time-consuming task of entering my credit card number on-line, and “The Tokyo American Club has asked ME personally for donated items- I can’t let them down,” which involves one trip to Costco.

I immediately called the intrepid Andretti-san, interrupting him from his gossip session with the other drivers.

“Let’s go- we’ve got important business to take care of.” I could hear the tires screeching before I hung up the phone.

Our first stop was the local Catholic church for rice ball making- Onigiri- on behalf of the people hardest hit in Northeast Japan. Truthfully, and some of you who have been reading a while know this, I’m not the volunteering sort, I prefer to write a check which is why I really enjoyed working. I could honestly say when asked to volunteer,”Sorry, I gave at the office.” No looking at forlorn, downtrodden faces, no listening to sad stories, just going about my life oblivious to the plights of others. The way I like it. Unfortunately for me, Japan – and you are not going to believe this- does not have a check writing system. Cash, credit, or Paypal. I’ve had to alter my preferred method of giving. I decided that onigiri making might be a good alternative- no interactions with the actual people involved. Down I went toward the basement of onigiri making for positioning in to future sainthood and what do I find? 45 Filipino evacuees– many of them children- housed in the basement! By the time I was done with the rice balls I was in the fetal position, my rice balls salty from my boo hooing. Not only that, I had a mesmerized audience of 5 children WATCHING me fill bags with rice balls. What was God doing? Punishing me for do gooding? I could hear his booming voice, echoing through the basement for all to hear, “Slap on the wrist and 10 Hail Mary’s for imagining yourself with a Mona Lisa smile, a rose clasped in your hands and flowing, saintly robes. No canonization for you. On to your next challenge.” Poor Andretti-san didn’t know what to do when I came out screaming with my eyes swollen shut.

“Costco” I managed to spit out. We needed supplies for our next stops. Tsk, tsk Costco. Toothbrushes, toothpaste, canned goods, diapers, but not one bottle of water. (Which by the way, a case is selling for $40. We just buy them out of the machine for the same old price. We’re just street smart that way.)Delivery volunteerism I found to be more to my liking. Buy all the goods at Costco, sit in the car while Andretti-san drives all over Tokyo hunting for the secret locations in which the relief organizations hide themselves, then I deliver the goods and receive all the credit.

Our next stop was Hands On Tokyo- items needed: toothbrushes, toothpaste and hand towels. Apparently without these items, diseases spread more readily. Andretti-san and I delivered enough for a small town. I never saw the woman’s face who took the items, but I would recognize the top of her head for as she was busy bowing in thanks, I not knowing what else to do, packed the items myself and left. Andretti-san would have been extremely helpful in this situation, however he, as is his usual habit, had parked the car  just inside the foyer and needed to keep an eye out for the popo in case he needed to make a quick exit. If I came out not to find him in the spot where I left him, I knew eventually he’d come speeding by with the window open for me to jump through as he briefly slowed down.

Click Here for More Information

Hands on Tokyo

Our last stop was the Tokyo American Club where we dropped can upon can of tuna. No doubt the creepiest stop of all. The usually haunt for all ExPats was truly spooky. The ex packed club looked as if we had entered during the wee hours of the morning, not a patron in site, and a skeleton crew. All the lights were off, the elevators not working in order to save power, the restaurants all empty save one specterly server floating in the background. In to the dungeon I descended, looking for the drop off location. I found three pale ladies ecstatic to see me when I arrived, either to see another human being or because supplies had arrived- or both. One handed me two lists of needed supplies. They could’ve saved paper by condensing to one list which said,

“Everything.”

All this dropping off stuff had worn me out. Kids texted that the bus was on the way home. School stats were in. First day back and 54% of the Middle School kids returned, 74% of the High schoolers, and 43% of the Lower School. However, the Offspring disputed these facts citing alternative numbers: 3/12 students in homeroom- Offspring #2. Offspring #1 reported that watching movies was his preferred method of learning. Both thought going to school in the dark, with the heat off, would certainly ease pressure off the power grid. Further, both thought starting and ending school earlier by an hour were appropriate measures for decreasing power consumption during peak utilization hours. The jury was out on the virtual learning their out of country contemporaries were currently experiencing, however, given the caliber of the teaching staff, I’m sure it will be benefit everyone in the future. All things considered, I’d rather expose my family to radiation than home school. I think the Offspring would agree.

The Offspring like the new schedule but dislike the individualized attention a teacher can now devote to five students. I’m learning to spend money on others, a habit which the Man upstairs has been trying to teach me for some time, and it would take more than several back to back record-breaking natural disasters, a nuclear meltdown and a hormonally infused family to alter Spouse’s daily routine. This is why I feel secure in our relationship- I’m a firmly entrenched part of that routine- it would take a lot to shake me loose.

So, there it is. The new normal. We’re flexible.

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“There’s no Excuse for Rudeness. Period.” Big Patti

Posted on March 27, 2011 by Emily Cannell

One of the values every child raised in the South learns at the foot of the family matriarch is good manners. Of particular importance to my mother, referred to in this blog as “Big Patti,” is the value of being polite. “There’s no excuse for rudeness, period,” one of her most cherished expressions and not one to be discarded with the feeble excuse of entering a new culture. Her thin-lipped rebuttal to my protests, ” You know how to read. Learn it, live it, do it. Your face might be the only one people see and equate with the United States.” My suggestion of wearing a Dolly Parton wig and mask was not met with so much as a curve of the lips. Suffice it to say, Spouse and I did our homework. He because he’s inherently a nice guy and would have done so regardless, and I being the yin to his yang, because I was guilted in to it.

One of the polite gestures is the “Return Gift,”or omiyagi. This is a gift one brings to friends and colleagues upon return from a vacation or trip. The Return Gift should be from the area where the trip occurred, preferably something for which the area is known, and as with all gifts, should be wrapped. Omiyagi is actually an apology for going away- in the workplace, for placing extra burden on others.

This has necessitated some adjustments to the Clampitt’s normal travel routines. All gifts must fit in carry on bags, as some of you know it’s against family rules to check bags. (Confessions of a Light Packer- read here) Estimated time of arrival at the airport required modification as these gifts are usually found at the departure destination’s gift shop. In the case of an airport, this has pushed the time back signifcantly as a healthy portion is already dedicated to the large chunk it takes me to get through security. 90% of the time I am separated from the other passengers for further screening and security check. The most entertaining to the Offspring being when I “failed” the “gas chamber” test at LAX due to “smell of butt gas” surrounding me mimicking that of bomb vapors. I relive this moment every time I exit the security line having witnessed the latest fad in security screening procedures, and find the Offspring laughing in the hallway, waiting to deliver the latest, hilarious round of fart jokes, I the ever constant butt of their jokes.

On our return from Hawaii, we found the perfect “Return Gift.”

These covered the main criteria- from the place we visited- Hawaii, and a local specialty- Dole, but not wrapped. This would have to do – I bought 6 boxes. We then proceeded to jam them in to every spare space much to the delight of the 3 women watching like vultures, one of whom volunteered to take whatever didn’t fit. They were disappointed.

On other trips within Japan, specific areas are dedicated to the purchase of “Return Gifts.”

Happo One, Nagano Japan

Yuki Pie from Mt. Naeba

So, who are the lucky recipients of these gifts? Sensei, Andretti-san, Spouse’s co-workers, Gobot, and the receptionists in the building lobby.  And a box or two for us.

Whether you’re sipping sweet tea or green tea, there’s no excuse for rudeness.

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Miss Hathoway- Please Circulate an “Out of Office” Memo

Posted on March 26, 2011 by Emily Cannell

Miss Hathoway, please circulate an “Out of Office” memo as I’ll be out for a couple of days.

It’s time for the Clampitts to return to Tokyo as we have over stayed our welcome in Hawaii. My mother in law fled our presence after 3 days claiming illness with both her mother and father- in Hong Kong – to cover her bases and make sure there was substantial distance between us. Then Luscious Lawyer started taking on additional jobs including tutoring an elderly man in poetry which left only the poor Captain who started meeting with “real estate agents” during the afternoon.

Ready or not, here we come. My situation analysis of the current conditions are sketchy. On the ground reconnaissance missions conducted by my trusty sources in Tokyo- our wonderful houseguest Gobot and Andretti-san- have reported that grocery store shelves continue to be ransacked by hoarding housewives and bottled water is a thing of the past. Restaurants are open, however Tsukiji Market- the largest fish market in the world (see earlier post here) has cut prices by 50% due to drop in demand. Costco will be my first stop on Monday- has it managed the supply and demand? Costco is not as popular in Japan due to the limited storage space of the average Japanese home. Our bathrooms provide extra storage of canned goods.

School reconvenes on Tuesday with 88% of the student population returning. Although all my Japanese friends stayed, all my ExPat friends left. Some are undecided as to their return date. A very good friend of mine- some of you may have heard of her, she was a little known member of the girl band “The Spice Girls”- Posh Spice, Sporty Spice, Ginger Spice, Baby, Scary and my friend Kitchen Spice. Well, Kitchen Spice lectured that everyone must make choices specific to their individual situation, that I must not only be accepting of those decisions, but supportive, AND I should resist the urge to badger. Badger? I would call it selling the benefits of coming back and highlighting the risks of staying gone. OK, I will exercise self-restraint when the opportunity presents itself in the future. Because I do, in fact, respect these very individualized decisions. You’re right Kitchen Spice. Bitch. I am so sad to go back without a few of my best friends. I am selfish. I want to sell them on coming back. I can’t help it.

So provided I’m not shooting giant crows in the park in order to provide the next meal,

or squeezing water out of poo Bear Grylls style, for the next several days I’ll be focused on getting back in to the new normal which I suspect which will include a new addition to my routine, making rice balls for the true sufferers in the North.

And then, as always, there’s something else to worry about:

See you next week…

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Is My Muffin Top More Deadly Than Radiation?

Posted on March 24, 2011 by Emily Cannell

Another day spent in Hawaii, jumping from one hazardous activity to the next entertaining the urchins, the ultimate goal being to “ride em hard and put em away wet.”  Unfortunately, Spouse and I are the only two who suffer during these daily doses of extreme activity, he limping with sore hamstrings and I handicapped from a severe case of mental anguish. On this day, fishing populated the agenda.

Following our usual pattern of overly planned exuberance, we had the marine encounter outlined and mapped, then the captain of the enterprise unexpectedly, and I think maliciously protecting his spot, baled, leaving us without access to the secret fishing hole. No matter, the first mate, Luscious Lawyer, the sister-in-law destined to dazzle the courtroom with intellect, wit and killing looks, stepped in with a guaranteed second best. It took two cars to get us and our gear to the hallowed ground. Two hours later, Spouse hauled in the first big catch of the day:

Knowing that radiation is dousing the coast of California according to certain media, I was certain this fish needed to be checked.

“Spouse- don’t touch that fish with your bare hands until I check it with my portable Geiger counter.”

Really, one can’t be too careful. If this fish were to be dinner, and clearly feeding 6 would be no problem if I concentrated hard on the blessing, it couldn’t be of the radioactive variety. Recklessly serving the family a glowing fish which emitted cesium or iodine would most certainly top a rapidly growing list of transgressions the Offspring are keeping for future therapy sessions. .001 microsieverts- well within the limits of edible given we get at least .29 per year from all of our food. If we were to eat 30 of him per day, for 10 years, we’d still not have an increased risk of thyroid cancer. Humm- better throw him back anyway. Can’t be too careful now a days.

This of course gets me thinking of the tainted spinach and milk in Japan. The good news is that I can use radiation as the excuse for removing them permanently from the Clampitt menu. In fact, I’m resurrecting old habits when all shopping was done in the center of the store- where the packaged, fully hydrogenated, and saturated fat filled items are located. No more fresh, hard to cook and even harder to flavor items. Our vegetable sides will now be potatoes – as in potato chips.

Now that I think about it, these damn fresh vegetables and fruits have probably done the Clampitts more harm than good anyway. The Tasmanian Bloodhound, to whom I worship and want to be just like, really prefers organic produce. She tipped me off to the fact that radiated fruits and vegetables should be chosen similarly to organics- choose the ones with skin- oranges, melons etc. The pesticides- and radioactive materials- settle on the leaves and outer coverings of the produce. At least in the beginning. This is cause for much more concern to me than radiation- the last time I washed a vegetable was after the strawberry E.Coli scare of ’09. In theory, the Clampitts have ingested enough pesticides to mimic the embalming process.

Of course mixing all of this new-found information together produces a disaster stew promising an abbreviated life. Eating only packaged and shrink wrapped products will invite the pesky belly fat that will increasingly cling to my already expanding center portion. The “experts” are countering the histrionic media with claims it would take eating two pounds of radiated spinach every day for a year to hit levels worth measuring. No worries there. Who eats spinach? Really? Further, drinking the tainted milk for a year contains as much radiation as having a CT scan. Now I’m worried about the number of Xrays Offspring #1 has had.  (It might still be cost-effective for us to go ahead and buy one for the living room.) Between the Xrays, the pesticides, and the increased body fat he’ll ingest as a result of the new diet, he’ll be a medical disaster by the age of 89. I, on the other hand, at my advanced age of 46, perimenopausal, with a BMI creeping ever closer to above the limit, am now at risk of heart disease- the number one killer of women in the US. There are real percentages attached to that.

In 2006, 423,709 women in the US died from Heart Disease, 269,819 from all forms of Cancer combined. Of those Cancer deaths, 40,821 were from Breast Cancer and 69,385 from Lung. (American Heart Association)

Which is worse, radiation or belly fat?

Doesn’t it always go back to those dreaded words, “Diet and exercise.” Damn it.

But it’s so much easier to push away from the radiated spinach than the table.

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Can Ouiser Walk the Walk? Culture Lesson #13

Posted on March 22, 2011 by Emily Cannell

My view of the beach.

I lie loose limbed on the beach. Hammered. Spouse patiently pushes Offspring #2 to the start position surfing while Offspring #1 tests various versions of surfboards in order to find the one which will guarantee injury. One of the ubiquitous tourist families tramps dangerously close to my invisibly cordoned off area.

I roll on to my side, point at the youngest tow-headed blonde with my mai tai- “Hey- kid- want to hear the story about the time I was shipwrecked- with only a volleyball to keep me company?”

The mother “Hrumphs” and pushes the kids with her body, her hands fully occupied with floats, towels, beach bag, hat, while her body is layered with a folding chair and bottled drinks. I plop back down. Where was I before I was so rudely interrupted. Thinking. Worrying. Wondering.

About the last 7 months. What I’ve learned. Has it changed me. Have I done it right? In the early stages of planning the move, I read that cultural differences between the Eastern and Western peoples were insurmountable to business conduction, not until as late as the 1850s did Japan open to trade with outside countries forever changing her face. I gathered dirt in my fist letting it gently fall through, raised my eyes to Heaven, and vowed with heart-felt conviction to assimilate, mix with the locals, learn the language, and follow the local customs except in the case of eating eyeballs which I will not do again even if it requires feigning a seizure. Through out the last several days, I can see Japanese cultural values dictating their actions and I wonder just what it takes for an old dog to learn a new trick.

The day after the earthquake, the government announced rolling black outs, citizens were encouraged to curtail the use of power. Happily I complied by putting the washer and dryer in full shut down mode. Spouse questioned my motives by pointing out these appliances had been in non-working order for at least a week as he was out of clean socks. Unfortunately, the dishes could be hand washed. Well- that’s what I had kids for- so they got to work. Much to my amazement I learned that most businesses in Japan voluntarily implemented a reduced work day, with retail establishments – other than food or restaurants- operating only 5-8 hours per day. Many closed all together. Had I owned a business, I would have kept that sucker open 24/7, especially knowing my competition was closed, “Being there for you in your darkest hour.” I might be forced out of business during the coming black outs and uncertainty ahead. Giving away some free chotskies to ensure everyone knew I was open would seal my reputation as the go to gal. In the process, I would have driven a stake through the heart of my business because my actions would not consistent with the Japanese value of Giri. A duty or social obligation, doing what society expects of you. In this case, society expects all Japanese to preserve power in order to help those working on the power plant thus helping all of Japan, especially those most hurt by the tsunamis. Anyone not actively supporting the voluntary power reductions would not be seen as showing appropriate giri- and would suffer repercussions in a very quiet way- like through an empty store. Ninjo is the human counter to Giri- what the individual wants vs what society expects.


Thus far the majority of the people I’ve seen on tv have been foreigners. In one instance, a Japanese news crew attempted to cajole a passing group of Japanese folks in to an interview in the Sendai area. They were met with flat refusals. Me? Before being asked I would have scribbled a big note on my Mole Skin to hold behind the reporter, “Have the Air Force drop Chocolate.” Flash a peace sign. Humility. When I see a camera in Tokyo, I run for it, when the Japanese see it, they run from it.

Tokyo is home to 23 million people most of whom commute on a bus or train. Immediately following the earthquake, all trains were stopped, the only means of transportation available to the working public were the buses. Since average ride time for a commuter is one hour, most of the commuters had the pleasure of spending the night in subway stations or restaurants until Saturday morning. I go rabid when putting myself in a commuter’s shoes. After spending the night on the floor, suffering  a 9.0 earthquake, and dealing with uncertainty regarding family, these commuters now had to compete with 15 million other passengers to get home- all at the same time. And they all stood, patiently, in line, no pushing, no shoving, no yelling. No matter what, the Japanese are Polite. In this case, I would’ve walked home. It’s a shame I find astronomy so incredibly boring because it would’ve been extremely difficult to navigate home not knowing how to use the stars to find my coordinates. Always using the subway has left me in the precarious position of not knowing how to get anywhere above ground.


I’m from the South, as in the Southern United States. We’re huggers. It’s not affection, it’s a form of greeting. It goes like this, an ear crushing “HEY!!!” followed by a hug. A most appalling interaction to the Japanese when the Social Chairman and I greet each other- she’s a native of Tennessee and we are always so glad to see each other that a LOUD “HEY” ensues. Followed by a long, tight, hug. Japan is a “DO NOT TOUCH” society. Greetings are done with bows- unless a westerner is involved in which a hand shake is acceptable. Public displays of affection are considered rude and classless. Immediately after the earthquake, I returned to our apartment and one of the receptionists walked out to greet me. I said “HEY!!” and gave her a hug. A brick would have been more responsive. Just don’t do it.

Japan has been criticized for not requesting help in light of the disasters she faces. Resources from generous individuals and countries pour in regardless of Japan’s position. Japan will struggle with a concept called On– or being indebted. The Japanese are very careful to repay all gifts and favors shown. If one gives a gift to a Japanese person, that person can expect to receive one of equal value soon. The repayment is made in kind. Gift giving is a post on its own and one that I’m learning very well. I hope that On does not extend to natural disasters.

As I stirred my mai tai with a salty finger and  pondered these concepts, I was rudely snatched up by the back of my tankini,

“Honey, no more terrorizing the natives. You’ve had your fun for the day. Let’s go.”

Well, I’m trying.





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Evacuate, Vacate, Inebriate, Marinate, Ruminate- The Clampitts’ Evacuation Vacation from Japan

Posted on March 20, 2011 by Emily Cannell

Many of the vents fell out of ceiling at Narita Airport

Foreigners hit the skies while ever-increasing numbers of Tokyo-ites hit the highway in order to avoid the radiation poisoning looming overhead. I am handling this disaster the old-fashioned way- with my head in the sand and a drink in my hand. Literally. When Spouse arrives tomorrow, I fully anticipate a day or two spent completely senseless vs. my usual base state, mostly senseless, as I will be “loaded to the gills” as my Dad likes to say. Good thing Spouse is getting here soon or I’ll have to teach Offspring #1 to drive- a few years early.

As it turns out, re-entry to our home country is probably more negative to our health than staying in Japan. Having not driven in 8 months, I consistently hit the brakes on the rental car with a tad too much gusto causing various Offspring to hurl headlong in to the front seat. Where is that oh so useful button on Andretti-san’s car that one pushes instructing the car of heavy traffic conditions thus allowing IT to take over control of the gas pedal. All that going back and forth between the gas and the brake and watching the car in front of me constantly is so cumbersome while I’m trying to tell the Nose what to Fed Ex me.

This GPS actually forces me to enter- with my own fingers- the address. The GPS in Andretti-san’s car appears to be a Harry Potter type device. One can use a cell phone, or a mysterious phone buried somewhere in the car, to call information. The operator doesn’t give a phone number; she sends the coordinates directly to the car and the location magically appears on the screen. This is all completed with the push of one button- getting her on the phone. With my rental car, I’m surprised there’s not a hole in the bottom for my feet.

Since all driving is done on the left side in Japan and I’m converting to the right side, the first few days have been hazardous for those around us. Propping my elbow on the door window is my reminder of which direction- and what lane- to go in a turn.

When life gives you lemons, make lemonade. Being in the US means shoes available for my son Sasquatch. Off we skidded toward the mall to enjoy Americana type shopping. Twice, while in one of the stores selling its own brand of cologne, which apparently got doused by three gallons of it upon opening to cover any odd smells to produce a new more noxious and potent one, I found myself using the Shazam app to get the artist name of a song. What’s next? Justin Bieber? Further, I was so aggravated with the clerk doing her job, ringing up the purchases, as she continued to interrupt these downloads to ask questions, I could hardly be polite. Couldn’t she see I was multi- tasking?

The Clampitt clan continually caused traffic issues in the mall not being used to walking on the right side. Given the escalators are also reversed, I immediately tried to ride the down escalator on this maiden voyage causing many to look over as if I were about to drop with convulsions. Perhaps they were evaluating the best way to avoid interactions if the rigors set in- who knows what I could be suffering from. In Japan, all escalator riders politely stand to the left side so the hurried few can climb and escalate (is that a word?) on the right. This caused confusion for all of us as we grappled with a) getting on the correct escalator b) standing on the correct side c) then realizing  no Japanese, or no one else for that matter, was going to be running past on the way up.

On a daily and 4qh regimen, we marinate ourselves in all the grease particular to American junk food. Jack in the Box Tacos, Taco Bell, and Ice Cream with flavors NOT called green tea, red bean, pumpkin or milk. My friends might not recognize me upon our return- I’ll be 18 again- fat, pimpled and greasy haired.

To quote Dan Akroyd:

“OUISER- YOU IGNORANT S%^T!”

How can you be relaxed, joke, shop, and treat the current situation in Japan with levity when thousands of people have died ?”

A question posed in various emails. In this situation, the Offspring have lived through one of the largest earthquakes ever recorded, tsunamis that have killed thousands and left their adopted home a wasteland, and worried that we would be the next victims of a Chernobyl type nuclear disaster. All within a 24 hour period. I have learned that as a mother, during a crisis, one’s sole focus becomes the protection and care of the children. To the exclusion of your own well- being.

Were I to change my basic devil may care personality, lose my sense of humor, start gnashing my teeth, and run in panicked circles in the living room, the Offspring would feel the further panic of a mother not able to care for them in a crisis thus undermining their sense of confidence and stability not only now but in the future. Watching for all signs as to how to act, they watch Spouse and me as gauges to the severity of the current crisis. Our message to them, right now, is that we are safe. You are out of harm’s way. We are your parents, we are taking care of you. It’s all ok.

At 12 and 14 do they need to see all the images on tv? No.The tv has been turned off. Facebook, the newspaper, and the internet has exposed them to the truth of the situation at home. Daily we answer their questions, slowly, so they can fathom and absorb the magnitude of the truth. They watch as Spouse and I carefully, methodically comb through all the news sources and educate ourselves as to the truth of the situation. They are learning, by watching and talking to us, that panicking and listening to rumors is not the way to manage a crisis. Remaining calm, taking deep breaths, thinking clearly, no matter what the situation, is the key to managing through any crisis. A life lesson.

Right now, the experts don’t need well-intentioned, inexperienced ExPats running in to crisis zones offering aide. But once the clean up begins, help will come from many avenues and the Clampitts- all of us- will participate in the recovery of our new home. The next life lesson for the Offspring.

And many thanks to all of you for your well wishes, messages of concern, and prayers, for us and all of Japan.

Mt. Fuji-san over Tokyo

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Why is There No Crime in Japan?- Insider vs. Outsider: Culture Lesson # 12

Posted on March 18, 2011 by Emily Cannell

Have you noticed that throughout all the turmoil in Japan, where after the earthquake, tsunami and nuclear plant debacles, the media stories bombard us with news of black outs, curtailed train schedules and empty grocery store shelves but fail to mention riots, looting or increases in crime? Have the confined incidences stopped or has it not started? The Japanese I observed stoically waited for late trains and stood politely in lines at virtually empty grocery stores.  Where is the tremendous crime wave to accompany the reduced store hours and electricity black outs? Where are the bad guys?

On a normal day crime is virtually non-existent. As an example, through out Japan vending machines sell everything from books to drinks, operate 24 hours a day, are well-lit, always clean, electronic, and consistently in working order. Never does one find oneself beating the machine senseless for the drink now balanced precariously- but not dropping- at the top of the shelf. In fact, so pristine are they that both cold and hot drinks are available from the same machine. Never tampered with or covered in graffiti, they are located on every street corner. Truly, given their illumination and sheer number, each marking regular intervals down the sidewalk, street lights aren’t needed at night.

Another example: children as young as 6 routinely ride the subway unaccompanied. Nary a clutchy parent in site. Every time I see one I get nervous- apparently for no reason for as I snuck this picture, everyone on the train started to watch me suspiciously for fear I might be the bad guy on it.

Just one more- I’ve had my eye on two metal chairs that someone thoughtfully placed at the bus stop for the comfort of the waiting neighbors. I’ve watched these chairs with greed in my heart for 8 months, as they sit, unmolested, unchained, for all passers-by to grab and yet still they remain. Obviously this isn’t my old neighborhood where any unclaimed item within 10 feet of the curb was fair game for anyone with a means to transport it.

My Japanese friends explain the lack of crime, and maybe the reason behind the lack of  a massive crime wave post earthquake, has to do with the Japanese concept of the Insider vs. the Outsider and putting the group well-being above that of the individual. In the old days, Japanese lived in villages where all were taken care of regardless of ability. Everyone contributed to the management of the village in some way and in return, the poorer members were fed and housed. The village was the Inside. As long as one was a member of the village, an Insider, all needs would be met. If a person did something criminal, that person was cast out of the village- and would become an Outsider. The Outsider no longer had the advantages associated with having all needs met and became completely self sustaining- probably to their detriment. For that reason, people did not want to become Outsiders as it became both a survival and a social issue.

Committing a crime, which negatively impacts the overall group, causes the criminal to become an Outsider. This desire to remain part of the Inside group, and/or not to appear different, is the crux which keeps the criminal activity to a minimum. Additionally, the laws when caught are harsh and swift.  I like to remind the Offspring should they get any ideas about illicit substances, that if caught, they can be put in jail for 30 days. During that time, the police are not required to call the Embassy or the parents. At the end of the 30 days, both they and the family are deported. Activity such as fighting, drunken public behavior are also not tolerated therefore the repercussions of having a negative engagement with a policeman carry catastrophic consequences.

The stores and businesses are running on 5-8 hour days in order to save power which leaves one of the largest cities in the world in complete darkness. Hopefully, this strong cultural influence which focuses the people on taking care of those in need and douses the desires of would be offenders, will continue as Japan struggles with this horrible crisis.

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Evacuation Vacation: Do We Stay or Do We Go?

Posted on March 16, 2011 by Emily Cannell

First came the earthquake, next the tsunamis, then the nuclear power plant issues. By Saturday morning, Spouse and I had become this as we dumped in all the rumors, news headings, tweets, and news casts attempting to separate lies from damn lies:

Our coffee drinking morning ritual of 18 years disturbed by a new, more sinister practice whereby he scanned the paper while I covered Tweets, blogs and Internet sites reviewing all new information on the unfolding events which had revealed themselves during the night.

Our ultimate goal- to separate fact from sensationalized sound bites and rumors. As an example:

“Tokyo falls in to chaos as Rolling Black Outs Announced.” Newspaper heading. The only chaos I witnessed was caused by myself and Offspring #2 when we spotted a 50% off sale at H&M. Black out conditions in the Clampitt neighborhood appeared to be voluntary- the H&M operated in the dark, as did our apartment building, the grocery store, and all other businesses.

“Japan Braces for Potential Radiation Catastrophe” The Japan News Forum. This tweet caused my heart rate to accelerate to above the maximum allowed for my age and weight. Does it count, therefore, as aerobic excercise – it was elevated for at least 30 minutes.  It had me by the by throat- until I read the subcaptions:

” Evacuation of Chinese Nationals Organized.” Is the Chinese Navy off the coast embarking on a rescue mission to remove all Chinese citizens currently residing in Japan? Further reading revealed the actions taken by the Chinese regarding the evacuation within 20 km of the nuclear power plant. Days old. At least this one was related to the heading.

“Japan offices to provide quake info for foreigners.” Good information but not a radiation catastrophe.

“People turn ever more to the web in times of crisis.” Really? Fascinating. And it’s relevance to the radiation catastrophe is…..?

Attention grabbing headlines regarding radiation catastrophes are not helpful, just misleading and panic provoking.

Alternatively, the Japan Times provided a worthwhile Tweet: Sorting Through the Information After the Quake: http://search.japantimes.co.jp/cgi-bin/nc20110316a1.html offering an article with reliable on-line information sources.

I’m assuming “the soaring radiation levels in Tokyo” must be within the limits of acceptable since my lone chin hair is still firmly attached front and center. Apparently it will take more than radiation, plucking, shaving, and laser attack to stop that she devil from growing. I’ll sound the alarms when it falls out on its own.

Finally, Facebook. The source for all of the Offsprings’ erroneous information. Usually followed by,”But their parents said it was true.” Well that clenches it for me as iron clad and bet worthy. The evacuation rumor of the American Embassy started there.

Arming oneself with the accurate information to decide which should be acted upon became much easier with the following scientific explanation of nuclear power plants: MIT NSE Nuclear Information ITB   http://mitnse.com/2011/03/13/why-i-am-not-worried-about-japans-nuclear-reactors/. By Josef Oehman, MIT This is a must read for anyone wondering what the hey is going on. Nuclear Reactors can not be explained in sound bytes. This provided useful information in refuting the “weather prediction” of the acid filled rain storm that was predicted for last Monday- complete with instructions to use an umbrella.

In the end, the only real truths Spouse and I could decipher were that indeed power needed to be conserved, workers were encouraged to stay home, train schedules were curtailed and cancelled, and rolling black outs were announced.  This sent all of Tokyo bustling and biking  to the grocery store. Where, as in the Northeast or Midwest in preparation for a blizzard, the citizens bought all items on the shelves- for the next 3 days in succession. This necessitated an announcement from the government asking people to cease in stockpiling and/or hoarding of goods and fuel as they were actually needed in Northern Japan.

For three days I arrived early to the store to buy milk, cream for coffee and toilet paper only to leave empty-handed. The vacation planned with the cousins was cancelled as the highlights for the trip had been closed and there’s no means of transportation by which to visit. A late breaking miracle occurred when an entire week of school was cancelled in order to conserve power. A slow dawning came over as I realized  Spouse and I would spend the next 12 days alone with the Offspring, with no means of entertainment, no coffee and no toilet paper.

And this, my friends, is why the Clampitts chose to take an Evacuation Vacation.

In the meantime, the people of Japan, the relief teams from all over the world, the rescue workers and all the other thousands of people involved in the immediate need of finding the victims of this disaster will continue this heart breaking work. We will return to the country we’ve come to call home, and find a way to help when it is our turn to step in.

 

Face Quilt Dedicated to Victims- Harajuku

 

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