Do you know kimchi, Korean pickle?  Well you should do, because apparently quite a large number of people in this world claim that they cannot live without it, even in outer space.  Kimchi is widely available in Japan – indeed, many supermarkets have whole shelves devoted to the stuff – but it tends to be mass-produced, and on the mild and sweet side, unlike the fiery hot stuff consumed in Korea.   Until recently I’d never tried the real stuff before. 

A couple of months ago I started tutoring a bunch of Korean kids in a working class district in Osaka.  I go there every Wednesday evening, and although I like the work, frankly I don’t make a lot of money for my efforts.  The kids try their hardest.  Their tired parents – most of whom work in factories – come and pick them up at 7pm.  They are very grateful to me, and they show it by giving me small gifts every week, mainly of food.  Last week I was given a beautiful fruit cake and a jar of home-made kimchi.  When I got home, I sacrified the cake to Sonbeam (what choice did I have?  When do I ever have a choice?) and reluctantly sampled the kimchi with rice for dinner.  What a lovely surprise I got!  It was the real deal, hot and spicy, none of this pussified Japanese stuff.  In fact, it was so good that if I had a mind to sell it here in Kobe, I would probably make a lot of money. 

According to research, kimchi has multitudes of health benefits.   But that’s not the reason I eat it.  I just really like the stuff.  You should give it a try.

Due to popular demand, I have started a small book club in west Kobe.  We meet twice a month, and translate children’s books from Japanese into English and vice-versa.  Last week we translated two books.  One of them was a Miffy book and the other was a Penelope book, both taken from European series that are hugely popular in Asia.  Next I would like to introduce some American books.   Please let me know the books that you loved as small children, and I will try to get a hold of them here and introduce them to the other members.  American writers who are already on my waiting list: Eric Carle, Ludwig Bemelmans, Maurice Sendak, etc (we’ve agreed not to do any Disney or Sesame Street).  I know there are far more, but I just can’t think of any now.  At the moment we are interested in books aimed at pre-schoolers and first/second graders.  I am open to any suggestions!

Years and years ago, an older and wiser friend told me that “men peak at 16, and women peak at 60!”  Naturally I assumed she was joking (knowing her, she was), but recently I’m starting to change my mind.  You see, I’ve started hanging out with a bunch of beautiful, stylish 60-ish ladies, and they are so much fun. They are changing my whole idea of growing older, and I am filled with gratitude for the exemplary examples that they set me.  Thanks to them, I’ve stopped being frightened of getting older, and actually started looking forward to it. 

What’s so fun about them, you ask?  Well, where do I start?  They no longer bother trying to impress males (something I’ve never seen the point of doing anyway) but they do make an effort to impress their friends, because their friends are important to them.  They love babysitting their grandkids, but they love giving them back even more.  They don’t dress for anyone but themselves … but they really love themselves, and therefore dress beautifully in wonderfully cut clothing in natural fabrics.   They don’t buy jewellery or handbags for the labels, they buy them because they personally like them, regardless of the price or label.  They don’t suffer fools gladly, but they do have a lot of tolerance for everyone else (including me, thank goodness).  They recognise quality when they see it, and are happy to spread the word (including me, thank goodness).  They are unashamedly adoring of their hard-working, long-suffering husbands, and go out of their way to spoil them and make life comfortable for them, which is so sweet to observe, it almost makes me wish I had a husband!  They have really good gaydar (something in which I am sorely lacking).  They know what they like, they know how to get it, but they don’t really care if they get it or not, because life is no longer a competition for them.

(One thing I cannot understand is, why do they wear such dowdy shoes?)

The happiest women I know are women around the age of 60.  I don’t know why, but I have my theories.  What are yours?

Anyway, what am I supposed to do with the next 20-odd years of my life, until I reach this happy state of nirvana?  Don’t get me wrong, I’m very happy, but I feel so bored sometimes.  I’m 41, and I still haven’t figured out what I’m supposed to be doing with my life.   Surely there’s more to life than this?  Or perhaps I have to wait until I’m 60 to find out.   Well, it looks like it will be worth the wait, if my new friends are anything to go by.

Stuff like this is simply not an issue.

I’ve just been reading an article entitled “Older men up in arms against slovenly female behavior.”  It describes the things that young women do that most annoy the revered older generation of men.  Unsurprisingly, given the reliance on public transportation, behavior on trains is particularly problematic.  Here are some of the complaints:

1.  Holding an umbrella between the knees while seated on the train.  I personally avoid doing this, because it’s vulgar – what happens if I doze off, relax my legs, and the umbrella falls over?  The proper thing to do is hold it in my hand and stay wide awake, no matter how long and uncomfortable the commute, or how many other items I’m carrying.   (For the record, sitting with legs crossed is extremely rude for women.  It’s okay when men do it, though.)

2.  Applying makeup on the train.  This is a big huge no-no here!  It’s almost akin to stripping off in public.  I wouldn’t dream of applying even lip balm in front of anybody else, it would be very impolite.  (For some strange reason,  reading pornography in public is perfectly okay though.)

3.  Wearing noisy clogs, especially in train stations.  The recent trend for mules means that a lot of young women tend to clomp-clomp their way around town, and especially up and down the stairs at the stations, which seems to annoy certain men.  One incensed commentator complains, “Some women wear those shoes to the office too!  Do they think they are on vacation at a seaside resort?”  How I wish!

4.  Talking loudly in bars, screeching shrilly.  Okay, I have to plead guilty to this one.  But if the men don’t like the sounds of women’s voices, then they shouldn’t hang around in places where drunken women congregate – just what do they expect?

5.  Refusing to move out of the way for others (presumably males) on the sidewalk.  A sure sign of the coming of the apocalypse.

Do not, I repeat, do not attempt to watch this video after downing two cups of very strong coffee, as I did this morning.  You will sorely regret it.

One of my friends decided to re-enter the workforce, after more than two decades out of it.  I supported her job-hunting efforts, and was thrilled when she excitedly told me that she’d landed a nice position as a cook in an old folks’ home (she is a qualified nutritionist) and was due to start next week.  

Last night, however, she sent me a rather dispirited email telling me that her husband had firmly put his foot down, “no wife of mine” and “your place is in the home” and all that.   Not only that, but her own daughter was vehemently against the idea too, because “I don’t want my mum to be out all day” and “who’s going to take care of us?”  (The girl is 19 years old!)  So, in the face of all this family opposition, my friend sadly decided to give up her new job before she got even started. 

Wow, a husband who insists on being the sole provider … where do I get me one of those?

Today at cram school, I did a dictation exercise with my 6th graders in which I asked them to write down, ”Do you have a pen-pal?” 

About half of them turned in answers that said, ”Do you have a PayPal?”

I don’t know.  I’m a bit confused right now.  You all know this iconic sculpture, don’t you?  Up until now, I had always assumed that there was only one of them.  But now I find out that there are many of them outside of France.  There is even one on permanent display in a Tokyo museum, which is currently being exhibited in Kyoto until the 20th of this month.  (Incidentally, kissing - unlike nudity – is so taboo in Japan that when the sculpture was first shown in Tokyo in 1930, the heads were covered up but not the bodies!  Japanese people don’t kiss in public, it’s regarded as obscene.) 

I’m wondering whether to go and see it in Kyoto or not.  I mean, if it’s not the real deal, then why should I bother?  On the other hand, if I don’t go, then I may regret it later on.  I certainly am not planning to go and visit Tokyo – or France, or anywhere else - any time soon.  I’m too busy.

Anyway, why on earth would there be so many different versions of one sculpture around?  It’s stupid.  I don’t know who to trust anymore.

No, I don’t actually feel sad about this one.  She lived to a ripe old age, had a brilliant career (in which she brought a lot of laughter to a lot of people, myself included), and apparently had a very happy personal life too.  What more can a person ask for?  Don’t forget to watch the clips, although as far as I’m concerned they aren’t the funniest ones, bar the episode Lost and Found which is about the distressing disappearance of a certain “pussy.”  I can totally identify with that one.