"With a Side of Kanji, Please"

I did something absolutely mortifying today.

I take private Japanese lessons every Thursday morning, and this morning was no different then usual. My typical Thursday schedule consists of me rising around 9, showering, downing a cup of coffee, reviewing a few last minute notes, and then shuffling off to a 20 minute subway ride in the hopes of showing up at the Higashi Betsuin Women's Center by 11. I am usual not fully aware at first, but having to think in another language wakes you up quicker than you can imagine. So I breezed in at 10:55 this morning, and finally feeling the effects of my caffeine intake, started to excitedly talk to my teacher about my plans tonight. But my verbal barrage took a turn towards the worse as my own stupidity quickly reared its head, and my teacher reacted to it.

The conversation alone can convey my faux pas. So, for the mixed reasons of a better explanation as well as for entertainment value, here is the conversation. Translated and transcribed, to the best my memory serves.

(Kate walks in to see Keiko sitting at a table.)

Keiko: Long time no see! How are you?

Kate: Great, thanks. How about you?

Ke: Great. So do you have to work today?

Ka: No, actually. Tonight my students and I are going out for dinner.

Ke: In Kanie?

Ka: No, Takaoka. I'm going to Kanayama first, then Takaoka for dinner at 7. (Kate pauses, an uncertain look on her face.) An end of the year party!

(Keiko does a slight double take, then gives her a confused glance.)

Ka: (repeats uncertainly) End of the year party...? (looks frantically through her dictionary)

Did I say it wrong?

Ke: No, no. Usually they're in December. Between Christmas and New Year's.

Ka: Oh its November. What's today then?

(Keiko keeps the confused look on her face.)

Ke: Today is a holiday.

Ka: (genuinely curious) Really? What?

(Keiko blanches slightly in surprise, as if it had been obvious)

Ke: Kate, today is Thanksgiving.

(Kate gives a long pause)

Ka: Oh.

END SCENE

Keiko then went on to laugh, saying that she had went to a Thanksgiving party the night before, while I was clearly looking forward to Japanese traditions. She went further to say that today, she was the American and I was Japanese.

I laughed too. I just find it sad that my Japanese teacher had to remind me that today was Thanksgiving.

Oops.

It's not like I didn't know of its approach either. All week, people asked me about the holiday, and if I was going to eat turkey on Thursday. ( And to which I replied, while I would love to, how in the world would I prepare it? This is my cooking area:

I can't bake cookies, let alone a whole turkey.)

So even thought I knew it was coming, talked of it all week, on the day of, for some inexplicable reason, it completely slipped my mind. I feel like a horrible American.

One would think the thought of the food alone would keep it foremost in my thoughts. How I salivate over the thought of the Thanksgiving treats today. And one look at my "oven" is proof enough how much I miss baked goods. And while I do miss the food from home, I am fine subsisting on what I do. In fact, it makes me appreciate it more. So if I find really great food like that from home, the scarcity makes the taste that much better.

For when I find a really great cheese in a country severely deprived of fermented milk-based food products, I gratefully shell out the high price and relish it that much more when I finally eat it. And when, on a whim, I decide to pay 500 yen for that tiny bunch of grapes, the wait alone makes the grapes that much better. And ethnic foods, like Mexican and Indian, the kinds I took for granted in their abundance, become special places to find and eat at. (One in particular, Mugal Palace, has become almost a weekly pilgrimage spot. Besides making me a bit of a connoisseur of Indian food for all the items I have tried, it is hands down the best Indian food I've ever had in my life.)

But in truth, and as expected, I now live on a highly Japanese diet. To what I'm sure would be

my mother's chagrin, I haven't had pasta or hard bread in months. I eat rice all the time, and various stir fry are the main dishes I consume.

I even eat salad with chopsticks.

In fact, I have even discovered some food items I will sorely miss when I leave Japan. The fried gyoza found in the food stores are out of this world. Asahi makes this yogurt granola bar that not only is amazingly delicious, but has become my weekly Wednesday afternoon snack. There is a spicy tofu and rice dish at my local convenience store that I cannot live without. And in a country of crab flavored potato chips, I have fallen in love with Azuki Pepsi. And it actually tastes like Azuki paste, or sweet bean paste, a staple of most Japanese desserts.

Which is another odd item I have grown to love.

But eating out is truly the height of my diet in Japan. The food is not necessarily expensive, or well seasoned, but its comforting and filling without being overwhelming. Scrumptious is really the only appropriate word. And izukaya food is designed to be communal, so the whole atmosphere is as social as the food is delicious. From the grilled meats and nabe pots to tabasaki to salads with unnecessary corn. I enjoy it all.

(And deciphering the menus at such establishments is always an added treat, because there are usually several characters none of us can read. Believe me, jokes like "the Kanji salad" or "I'll take the tomato, garlic, and Kanji" seriously never gets old.)

But all that aside, at my end of the year/secret Thanksgiving dinner tonight, though I was surrounded by the Japanese foods I have come to love, I was dreaming of pumpkin pie and cranberry sauce. Mulling over mashed potatoes. Fantasizing about stuffing. Pondering the delights of hot biscuits.

And desperately wishing I had an oven.