Big in Japan

Photo and art credits: Bella Sinclair
 
Today's guest is the one and only Bella Sinclair, a favorite illustrator of mine and a generally delightful person, beloved by many. She's an Illustration Friday enthusiast and her work is pure magic. I'm especially enamored by Bella's rendition of Hayao Miyazaki's large monster bunny, Totoro. I knew that Bella had spent some time living with her family in Japan and since her own blog is focused mostly on her illustrations, I crossed my fingers she'd agree to be in the Strangers in a Strange Land series so that I could learn more about her. And about smart toilets. Who knew?

1. How did you come to land in Japan?
My husband's company transferred him to develop new business in Asia.  Manhattan was wearing him down, and I could tell he was itching to fly across oceans.  So when an opportunity came up in Tokyo, we took it.  I was reluctant at first.  Okay, I'll admit it.  I cried a little.  We had a house I loved in the suburbs that we had just finished renovating.  Most of my friends were there, and I felt rooted.  But I eventually got over my initial shock and fear and absolutely loved it in the end.

2. Do you speak Japanese or did you take any language courses before you arrived?
I took a year of Japanese in college, but that had been eons ago.  Once I got to Japan, I started taking lessons again.  Unfortunately, the area where we lived was full of expats, so it was easy to get by without using much Japanese at all.

3. If you are not a native speaker, do you have any funny stories about language errors?
Actually, I learned not to speak Japanese to people because they would assume I was fluent and speak back to me at a million words a minute.  So I didn't have any language errors that I can remember, but I do have an amusing story.  My Japanese teacher and I would often make small talk during our lessons, and one time she was describing dishes that she likes to cook.  She kept saying, "sea chicken." 
Huh?  "Sea chicken?"  I was completely  baffled. Yes, sea chicken."  And then I realized that she was talking about tuna!  Chicken of the Sea! 

4. Tell me about one of your lowest moments?
Our time in Tokyo was a fantastic adventure, perhaps being some of the best years of our lives.  The only low point was when my husband suddenly passed away.  It would be a difficult time for anyone, but having to deal with the hospital and police and funeral parlor in a foreign language made me feel even more isolated.  Luckily, I had a friend who was fluent in Japanese who helped me through it all.

5. What was the best part about living in Japan?
The Japanese are a wonderfully refined, polite, and honest people.  And they take pride in keeping things clean and orderly.  People smiled and nodded hello.  I felt very safe and hyper civilized.

6. Did you ever feel totally at home?
Oh, yes!  We had our routines and frequent haunts.  And between work and the international school, there was no shortage of English speakers.

7. What did you miss most about the United States?
Definitely mobility!  We didn't have a car in Tokyo, nor would I have trusted myself on the roads.  So every time one of my kids had a playdate at a friend's house, I'd have to carefully map out the subway route to get there and back.  And sometimes, their friends lived in places unreachable by subway, which meant we had to jump in a cab.  A playdate could easily cost me $40.  It almost made me wish my kids had no friends.

8. What are some of the things you didn't know how you lived without before you moved to Japan? (i.e. foods, customs, culture...)
Did I tell you about the smart toilet that stays perpetually warm, automatically opens and closes and auto flushes?  Aaaaah, pure heaven!  And Japanese pastries, oh my goodness!  They make bread that is so incredibly light and fluffy. 

9. How did the kids adjust to the move?
Kids are mighty resilient.  My girls were in the fourth grade and kindergarten when we first got to Tokyo.  Being that we went to an all-girl international school where lots of kids come and go after a year or so, they did not feel singled out or unusual.  They made the transition quite easily.  There were a lot of British and Aussie teachers at the school, and my little one actually started to pick up a British accent.

10. Was there any chance of "blending in" or did you always feel like "the American"? Did it matter?
Blending in was easy where we lived.  We were in an area affectionately (or not) known as gaizin ghetto.  The neighborhood was crawling with foreigners and you could practically hop from one embassy rooftop to another without touching ground.  We lived next to the French Embassy, and down the street was the German Embassy, and a little further away was Finland and Qatar and China and so on.  So many different people, so many different languages.  As long as we stayed where the embassies were, we blended in just fine.

11. Can you reflect on any cultural differences that were challenging to navigate or led to a funny situation or misunderstandings?
My Japanese teacher would come to my apartment on Tuesday mornings.  I remember one time, my husband was still there because he had decided to go to work late that morning. My husband and I were very informal about comings and goings.  "Bye."  "Bye."  "Hi, I'm back."  "Hey."  But I guess in Japanese culture, the man is king of his domain.  My Japanese teacher was very apologetic and embarrassed to be there, feeling that she had invaded his territory.  And she physically made me get up to give him a proper, ceremonial send off.  What did she want me to do, fluff up his jacket and lay out his shoes?  I had no idea.  So my husband and I just stood there, staring awkwardly at each other for a moment.  Then he said, "Bye."  And I said, "Okay, bye."

12. Did life there have any impact on your illustration style?
Definitely.  You cannot live in Japan and not absorb all the kawaii or cuteness.

13. What lessons can you draw from the whole experience?
You know what?  I've learned that I'm a lot tougher and more resilient than I thought.  Life can change in a blink, and everything you know can be gone tomorrow.  But new adventures await, and I will go on.

***************
Thank you Bella! Your mad skills and sense of humor shine in every illustration. Get a taste of the kawaii that I'm talking about over at Bella Sinclair's Doodlespot. Tell Totoro I sent you.

The Rain in Spain Falls Mainly in San Sebastian

all photo credits: Jane Green

It's time for our second installment of Strangers in a Strange Land. I came to find Jane Green and her beautiful blog Spain Daily through another blogging friend when she was hosting a weekly photography prompt called Corner View.  I still look to Jane for photography inspiration. She has a way of sneaking in on people's lives and capturing the exact moment that tells their whole story. That goes for her incredible pictures of architecture and scenery too, of which there is no shortage in beautiful Spain. She also has a knack for shots of tight little matador tushies. And who doesn't love a little eye candy now and then, am I right?

But for all of her candid shots and explorations of daily life, she's not one to write at length about herself. So I'm honored that she was willing to participate in this series. As usual, her humor shines through. Enjoy!

1. How did you come to land in Spain?
Love

2. Did you plan to stay as long as you have?
My first trip to Spain was to San Sebastian for just three weeks to see “how I would like living there.” The sun shone every day, I met wonderful people, and the food was amazing! (And there were palm trees!!!) I went back to the states, packed up my life, and moved there two weeks later.

It turned out to be a freakish warm winter where I went to the beach every day. The following year things were back to normal where it rains for 9 months a year. But, by then I was hooked. I still think Jorge had something to do with it ;)

3. How was your language acquisition? Did you learn Spanish when you arrived or did you already speak the language?
When I got to Spain I considered myself almost “fluent” in Spanish.  I had taken it at school for 7 years and got straight As. The first day of my visit I ordered a café con leche. The waiter handed me a pack of cigarettes, I paid, walked outside, and cried...

4. If you are not a native speaker, do you have any funny stories about language errors?
One of the funnier ones. (There are many.) I wanted to start working as soon as I got here. One day I saw an add in the newspaper for chicas (girls) wanted for Bar Americano (American bar.) Here I was picturing a “Friends” type bar where everyone knows your name kind of a place. Turns out- “chicas” are prostitutes and Bar Americano is a brothel. I think Jorge laughed for a month!

5. Tell me about one of your lowest moments?
See number 4 ;)

6. What is the best part about living where you do?
I love that my kids get to grow up here. We have beaches, mountains, and cities (plus France, Portugal, Italy) at (or almost at)  our front door. Add to that art, history, and inexpensive haute cuisine ... I think it has made them much more open minded. At least that´s what I tell myself when I´m craving a walk up Walnut Street and strawberry pancakes. 


7. When did you realize where you are home? Or are you not there yet?
Nope, still not there. I don´t think I´ll ever be. But what´s strange is that I don´t feel like I´m home when I´m in the States either. I´m away for such long periods of time that I always feel a little out of the loop when I´m there too. I think it´s a really common feeling for people living abroad- and one you get used to.

8. What do you miss most about the United States?
Don´t get me started...Besides the obvious, I miss big bookstores, my favorite coffee shops, breakfasts out, diversity, creativity, even the guy that does the voice overs on TV...

9. What are some of the things you don't know how you lived without before you moved to Spain? (i.e. foods, customs, culture, shoes...)
Tortilla de patatas... soooo good!


10. Did you raise your kids bilingual? How's was that?
 Yes, definitely! From day one, Jorge spoke to them in Spanish and I spoke to them in English. And from the day they spoke their first word- it was in Spanish to Jorge and in English to me. We really didn´t give it much thought. And the kids just knew. (It´s my gift to them.)

11. Are you still "the American" or do you blend in at this point?
 I´ll always be “the American”  If you heard my accent, you´d understand. ;)

12. Can you reflect on any cultural differences that were challenging to navigate or led to a funny situation or misunderstanding?
 There are, I just can´t think of any at the moment. The Spaniards eat every part of the pig, cow, fish, shrimp.... I´m sure they have to do with food... :) That, and I´ve had some funny situations trying to figure out how to flush a toilet.

13. How has your experience colored your photography?
I think life is slower here, so it´s easier to live in the moment. Plus the fact that I´m surrounded by beauty.... but then again, beauty is everywhere, if you are looking.

14. What lessons can you draw from the whole experience?
 I´m the first to laugh at myself.... and never underestimate the power of diplomacy...

*************

Gracias Jane! Clearly a sense of humor is a must for any expat. Note to self. Head over to Spain Daily to get a glimpse of daily life in Spain. Jane even has an ETSY shop where she sells a selection of her beautiful prints.

The one where I mention we're moving to Israel

Jerusalem doorway

How's that for a zinger title?
It's been ten wonderful years but we are finally closing up shop in America folks. And moving back to Israel. Holy crap, that's right.  And we're doing it this summer. With an infant. So I'm a little overwhelmed. And a little stressed. But relieved to have made this decision because nothing sucks more than indecision. Except for hemorrhoids.

I'm excited about the move though I have no delusions that this will be easy or comfortable or enjoyable. At least for the first six to twelve twenty-four months in country. I figure if I keep my expectations very low there's a chance I'll be pleasantly surprised.  Or an opportunity for an "I told you it would be a nightmare" open dialogue with Mr. Rosen. That said, the enormity of it all is kind of making me feel like having a third baby is no big deal. When you compare it to selling your home, finding a place to live in another country, a school for your big kid, a preschool for your little kid, a job nearby for your husband, all within an hour drive to your in laws, in a good school district, in a place that's beautiful, and affordable, and not blazing hot in the summer, and move all your stuff there, by boat, and buy a car, and modify your business for international fulfillment, and find new doctors, new dentists, a replacement for Trader Joe's (as if it were possible) and be emotionally available for your distressed children all the while caring for your infant without the benefit of your own mommy nearby as you navigate the social and educational systems being the functional illiterate that you are, yes, having a third child seems like a walk in the park. This without mention of occasional bombings from Gaza. Or Lebanon. Or, even more life-threatening, the maniacal way people drive in Israel.

But here are many things I am looking forward to, in no particular order:

• Having a bigger house. 
• Starting fresh.
• Getting old funky furniture from the south Tel Aviv flea market.
• Connecting with the vibrant art and design community.
• Shoko b'sakit (come visit me and I'll buy you one).
• Fantastic grandparents who are available for babysitting. And sleep-overs.
• Cheap outbound shipping (so say my Israeli ETSY comrades).
• Long weekends in Turkey, Greece, Cypress, Czech Republic, Romania, Bulgaria, Egypt...
• Not having to take my kids out of school for Jewish holidays.
• Really strong lattes. Stronger than Peets.
• Olives.
• Fresh pita.
• Sabbath.
• School that's six days a week (!!)
• Fully bilingual kids.
• Aunt Dana and Uncle Yaniv.
• Jerusalem.
• The Mediterranean Sea. Despite the jellyfish.
• Grocers calling me sweetie. (Trust me, it's endearing).
• Getting out of traffic tickets just by speaking English. 
• The shoes.

So I hope you won't mind if I dream and rant and process with you as this next part of our life unfolds. And Israeli readers are welcome to send information about your awesome elementary school and community. I'm all ears.

Tell them your mommy's an artist

This morning we were getting ready for school and I remembered that today my son was supposed to share with his class about what kind of work his parents do. He came home with a paper bag and we were supposed to put things in it that we use at work and explain how we use those things. My husband was planning to bring home a model ear (he's designing a hearing aid) and some mechanical stuff but he forgot. So I grabbed a little Shutterfly photo book and put it in the bag and explained, Mommy is a copywriter. I write all the stuff on Shutterfly's website. And he's looking at me like I just told him I'm an appraiser or a lobbyist or an accountant - all professions he has neither heard of nor can relate to on any level. Tell them I try to inspire people to share their stories through their own pictures and words...still nothing.

Then I thought, you know what? Screw that. I dumped the Shutterfly book and went to get a few of my paintbrushes, a few tubes of paint and an assortment of my 5x7 animal prints, put them in the bag, looked my kid in the eyes and said, tell them your mommy's an artist.

And then today, at 2pm, I called my wonderful manager into a conference room and said, Dianna, I'm an artist. It's time for me to go. And she said that she knew I was doing the right thing though she was sad to see me leave. And we hugged. And I thanked her for being part of my creative awakening. It was a very good exchange. And now we can just be friends again.

So that's it. While the rest of the world is being laid off, I'm leaving my full-time, well-paid, easy-to-manage job, on my own accord. She's lost her mind! It's been said, the thing that keeps you from doing something great is doing something good. My life coach taught me that. So my very good year at Shutterfly is coming to an end and soon I'll begin the shift toward morning artist and afternoon mommy. And greatness. There's a nice symmetry there. I haven't written much on this subject namely because people I work with occasionally read this blog. I will say though that I didn't just snap because it was "put your profession in a paper bag day" at school. This decision and transition is nine months in the making. Thirty-five years and nine months.

Weird ideas that work

I tell you if I’m ever in a position to hire anybody and the job requires unlimited capacity to generate new ideas and problem-solve, 9 out of 10 times I’m hiring a mom because a day doesn’t go by when I don’t have to yank some crazy scheme or remedy or solution or explanation from my rumpus in an exhausting constant effort to love, protect and shape the small children that live in my house.

Here’s what is working lately.

I’ve been focusing a lot of my energy on smooth transitions (i.e. when I leave the house in the morning or when I drop the kids off at school) and my work seems to be paying off. Three days a week my husband takes the kids to school in the morning and I leave early so that I can then pick them up on the early side. It used to be that one or both of them would throw a fit when I left scarring me for the rest of the day. The kids were fine thirty seconds later of course but I was a hollowed by the ordeal. Now we do “bye bye from the window”. Every morning, no matter who’s leaving early, we say our goodbyes with the traditional hug and a kiss, high-five and thumbs up. Then the kids jump onto the sofa and watch for me (or my husband) out the window. I leave and quickly run around to the front of the house and do a silly dance and sometimes come all the way up to the window for high-fives at the window. The kids shout their goodbyes and wave and laugh and I can leave with my heart intact. This has been working for several months actually with only the occasional break-down.

On the days when I deliver the kids to school I’ve been trying a modified version of “bye bye from the window”. My son comes with me to drop off my daughter. In her classroom I kiss her goodbye and then do a “one-and-a-two-and-a-three” ali-yoop full-body swinging motion and land her in her teacher’s arms. Then her teacher does the same thing landing her in the middle of the room on the carpet next to various toys and distractions. She’s probably so dizzy she doesn’t notice I’ve gone. Then my son and I go over to his room and we do our hug and kiss routine. Then I say, “bye-bye from the window”. He runs to the window and I walk outside and over the window and we do our window high-five. Then he meanders over to his class and starts his day. No tears. No looks of despair. Drop-off perfection.

How I need to work on our nighttime ritual. “Night-night from the window” seems a little irresponsible. Goodnight kids! We’re going to the movies…