Day service

This post is late, but the videos were finally uploaded yesterday.

As part of the wind ensemble's yearly activities, we usually volunteer at something called a "day service." (For a really local reference to use on my readers, it's like Gladeview but without the live-in residency.) This involves all the members that can make it going over to the day service center, setting up, playing a few songs, and then going home. Because we had a lot of new members this year, the band that participated this time was larger. I went separately in my own car, mainly because even with two vans, there wasn't a lot of room considering the number of people and the equipment. (I actually broke from the barricade to take a shortcut, and ended up arriving at the place about five minutes ahead of everyone else.)

This time, we played three songs. The third one was an encore. I doubled this time on bari for the main songs, and soprano for the encore because the arrangement of the song didn't have a part for bari. (There wasn't a soprano part, either, but there was a second clarinet part.) We jumped right into the encore, before I was even ready to start playing, and as I played the first note, I realized that I was playing on a dry reed, which I couldn't understand as I had a cap over the mouthpiece. I could still play, but it was like blowing bubbles in a milkshake; lots of resistance all the way through. Still, the doubling experience was fun, and I hope I can do it again for the regular concert.

(The video below is a playlist that will automatically play all three.

The performance went well, and the crowd was warmly receptive. I also brought along my Olfi and filmed the concert. Once we were done, we packed up, helped ourselves to some cold tea provided by the staff, and headed back to campus.

Next event with them is the overnight camp like last year, and another gig at a "traffic safety parade" the following day. So, uh, 楽しみに！

-wp

How to kinda make soba

Arguably, this was an entertaining weekend. In between the festival on Friday and one of Saitou-san's drinking parties on Saturday night, I got the opportunity to learn how to make soba. Aoyama-sensei invited us to the class a few weeks ago, and because I usually have nothing better to do during the weekends, I decided to go. The same people from my class who went to the festival on Friday night also joined us.

The class was at the Jonan Community Center, and we were the only foreigners to attend, as well as the youngest of the participants. Because of Aoyama-sensei's position in the local International Association, he has made a lot of friends in the city, and the instructor was one of them. We were told to put on head scarves to prevent hair from getting in the food, and washing our hands all the way down to the elbows.

Making soba, as it turns out, is a labor intensive process. First there's the sorting of the actual buckwheat using a strainer. A very fine white powder comes out of the strainer while the darker particulates stay in it. Then, when the straining is complete, the remaining contents are dumped...into the same bowl as the powder.

Next is the addition of hot water, followed by lots of mixing. Cold water is also involved in the mixing process. Soon, the mixing turns into kneading, and a single slab of dough is produced.

The next part is flattening it. White flower is sprinkled onto the flattening surface and dough, and then flattened first by hand in a circular formation. The roller is added in, first to make it flatter, and then to make it square, with occasional pinches of flower thrown in.

When the dough is flattened enough, it's folded into quarter-size, and then it's time to bring out...the knife.

The knife had to be held a certain way. Imagine making the metal symbol (\m/) with your hand. The handle goes in between the two fingers that are folded in, and the remaining two fingers are pressed against the side of the blade. The knife goes up against a guide board, and the trick is to push down and out into the dough, then lean the knife to the left to advance the guide board. The result is about 7-8 servings of soba, which are then boiled, cooled, and strained to become edible. (It's also possible to eat them hot, but not in August.)

We all took turns at the different stages of the whole process. Everyone was knocking each other over making mistakes in the process, and on their turn, they'd make the same mistakes. Our noodles were especially thicker than the others', mainly because of our collective inability to use the knife properly. There was also the issue of keeping the dough free of cracks and tears.

Some of the other participants put aside their portions to take home, but everyone got to eat some of their creation today. Another gentleman from the group brought watermelon with him. It had lots of seeds, but considering that Japan's watermelons are a third of the size but three times the price of American ones, it's not a good idea to be picky.

I hadn't really had a chance to go to activities like this, mainly because I didn't know about what was going on in the local community as much. I try to read the monthly city bulletins, which are provided by the city and come in English, but I usually don't have time as a lot of those events are during the week, when I have other things to do. But now, with my time at Aizu (and Japan unless I figure something out in that department) winding down towards the end, and my budget otherwise limited for travel, I need to experience more in the area as much as I still can. Time is a much more precious commodity this case.

I missed the Iwaki Fireworks Festival due to the drinking party, but I'll still be going to the festival in Yanaizu this Thursday. All of the fireworks festivals are happening at around the same time, which sucks because I can't possibly go to all of them. There will be, however, other festivals in the region for August. Here's hoping I can go to them all.

-wp

Aizu Shinmei Jinja Festival

Two nights a week for the past three months, I've been attending a Japanese class held at the University. The lecturer, Aoyama-sensei, was a retiree living in the city who volunteers at the Aizuwakamatsu International Association (AWIA), and the University asked him and a few other teachers to come teach classes to the graduate students and faculty.

Yesterday was our last class, which was the same day as the Shinmei Jinja Festival. There's a small temple nestled away behind the tall commercial buildings on Shinmeidoori, aka National Route 118, aka Aizuwakamatsu's "Main Street." The city was making a big deal of it; they were closing off the road to vehicular traffic so that people could come, and there were going to be vendors selling wares and booze for cheap. Therefore, the last lesson for the class would be about shrine etiquette. We learned about how to properly wash our hands at the purification fountain, which is called 禊 (misogi), and how to make an offering and "pray" (any other atheists reading this blog?) at the temple itself.

After class, we all met up at the Washington Hotel, travelled to City Hall to take advantage of the free nearby parking, and then walked to the festival, which was already well underway. There was a long line of all sorts of people: retirees, families, freshly liberated salarymen and OLs, students, etc. We did the misogi and the offerings, and I tried to get video footage of both, although the lighting sucked, and the Olfi doesn't come with any flash features.

We took some pictures near the 神輿 (mikoshi, or Shinto deity transportation vessel) and took a brief stroll along the street to check out the vendors. Aoyama-sensei wanted to leave at this point and go to dinner as planned, but then I noticed various people in festival garb crowding around the mikoshi. He inquired with one of the helpers, and it turned out that they were about to have another procession with it. Therefore, we decided to stick around and watch it before dinner.

The mikoshi

One of my classmates, Chen

Aoyama-sensei, trying not to throw out his back

As we were waiting, I felt a few slight taps on my right knuckle bone. I turned a looked down to see this little boy staring back up at me with sheepish awe, who then said 「ハロー」to me. I said hello back, and then he said 「ハロー」once more, this time a bit weaker, before turning around and heading back to his family. I've been in Japan for about 17 months now, and that's the first time that that's happened to me.

We watched the mikoshi being hoisted down to the traffic blockade and then headed out to dinner at a nearby izakaya. I got to have a very fun experience in Aizu that I otherwise would not have known about. (The festival was not advertised in the city bulletin, so I would've had no other way of knowing about it had Aoyama-sensei not told us.) There will be other festivals in Aizu this month, and I intend to go to those as well. I'll keep you all in the loop as to how those go.

-wp