In a country where sharp, craggy mountains dominate the landscape, farmers plant their fields wherever there's a large enough expanse of flat land. Sometimes, cities grow up around those fields.
Why have we posted
so many sea photos
this week? It's because we took a trip to Miyako, on the Pacific coast of Iwate. Matthew had a model railroad event there, so we took the opportunity to explore part of Iwate we hadn't visited and enjoy some fresh seafood.
Miyako is most famous for its spectacular rock formations, especially those at Jodogahama.
There's a protected rocky beach at Jodogahama, where old women spread out konbu
seaweed to dry.
We were there pretty early in the morning, which turned out to be a good thing. We got to see the nearly empty beach, but less than an hour later it was overrun with tourists.
Of course, no visit to the sea is complete without fresh seafood. We stayed at a minshuku
(a kind of traditional "bed and dinner and breakfast" lodge) owned by a fisherman. Naturally, the morning's catch was the evening's dinner.
A mussel colony is exposed at low tide in Miyako.
seagull rests on a rock in a protected cove of the shore near Miyako, Iwate.
A pair of salmon dance on the Miyako manhole cover design.
We spent a weekend at the coast, and found a large number of sea urchins hanging out in some shallow water at a rocky beach.
Six Steps to Self-Actualization
As difficult as some aspects of expatriating have been, they've had one primary redeeming value: we've only had to do them once. Repetition is annoying to me, especially repeating things that seem arbitrary or pointless. But, we learn to accept things by working through them, so it's only fitting that I've achieved inner peace through taking the Japanese driving test.
I knew I was likely to fail the driving test the first time. Reportedly, most people do. What I did not expect was to fail it a second time, and then a third time. The examiners gave the same reason every time: "Deibisu-san, you need to slow down on the turns." No other comments, only that I turned too fast. I slowed down each time, until I felt like I was crawling around the corners, but to no avail. "Deibisu-san, next time, go more slowly in the turns." Man, was that frustrating. All this effort I put into fixing what they said was wrong, and they kept failing me for the same reason. Was there nothing I could do to pass?
Somewhere between Attempt #3 and Attempt #4, I entered a state of acceptance about the whole thing. I could only drive the course to the best of my ability. Passing was out of my hands. It was a good development because then I wasn't fazed by Attempt #4. I failed, even though the examiner praised the way I drove a tricky part of the course by drawing a big flower around that point on her map with a red pen, the way Japanese schoolteachers do. Passing is out of my hands.
One week later came Attempt #5. Attempt #5 had the added bonus of the examiner being the one guy at the driving center who I simply could not understand. I went, I drove, I failed for reasons I couldn't make out. And yet, I still felt content ¡½ I'd done the best I could, but with no success. I realized that by this point, I'd run through all of the driving center personnel who do the foreign test. It was guaranteed that the next examiner would be someone who had already failed me. Not that it mattered ¡½ with my track record, they could replace the whole staff and the results would be the same. Passing is out of my hands.
So the guy I couldn't understand was my examiner again for Attempt #6. I went, I drove, I returned to the starting point, I listened to his incomprehensible comments. But this time, he was asking questions rather than scribbling on his map. That was different, but was it significant? I finally asked him whether I had passed, and he confirmed that I had by sending me inside to wait for the license to be issued. Success! I could drive in Japan again!
Or I could have if I'd had the car. My international driver's permit expired in June, so returning home meant one more thing that was out of my hands — a long ride by bus and train.
Masses of variously colored cosmos flowers are very common around Kitakami in the fall.
This is definitely not the kind of pepperoncini
I ran around town looking for back in May:
As it turns out, this kind of pasta is actually called peperoncino
. This batch is from a mix, consisting of a liquid sauce packet (olive oil, garlic oil, soy sauce, and some other stuff) and a separate toppings packet (toasted garlic, parsley, and sliced dried togarashi
). It's quite delicious.