the powder room

Sitting on my bed, with my knee strapped up and in ice

View from my room. Check out how deep the snow is on the left.

Went out to Abucha with Francis last night and had proper sukiyaki – was nice, if a little pricey (2100 yen), was supposed to meet James (who I worked with at WP) but I couldn’t find the bar, so I came back. Met two random Japanese guys who jibbered away at me – all I could say was ‘wakarimasen’ (I don’t understand), ‘gomenasai, watashi wa nihongo o hanasimasen’ (sorry, I don’t speak Japanese), to which they smiled and acknowledged, then carried on chatting to me! Unitas is a little way out of the main town, but it’s easy to get around here, lots of free shuttle buses and if needs be, it’s only about 10 minutes to walk back from town. Got back to find our heating had packed in! Not good. So a freezing night’s sleep (although the beds are actually very warm).

My room! Mine's the bed on the left

Woke up today and struggled to get out of my nice warm bed. But I did, pulled back the curtains to see that the forecast snow had arrived and it was gently snowing. It had only just started, so I pottered over for breakfast and chatted to people. Kurokawa, our friendly repairman, came and sorted out the heating and I headed to the mountain. Met Tom, the operations manager at the ski school who was very friendly and professional. Then went for a ride – there was about an inch on the ground and it was coming down thick and fast now.

Snow clearing: Niseko-style. You can see how deep it is on the sides of the path.

My knee had started to hurt a little yesterday, so I took it easy today, but after a couple of runs, it was killing me, so I stopped and decided to rest it today. I’ve had probs with it before, and I guess cos my muscles aren’t up to strength yet, it’s putting more strain on my ligaments, I’m gonna strap it and take it easy. Hopefully it’s nothing major, but it’s a worrying start.
So I’m back here, having found a van that sold gyu-don (bowl of rice with beef and pickles) for a mere 650 yen (about a fiver). Resting today, then it’s someone’s birthday so people are going to karaoke tonight – I haven’t been invited yet, but will probably just gatecrash! People haven’t been quite as welcoming as I’d expected or experienced elsewhere – but I guess I’ve just gotta make the effort though.

Sitting in a dark corner of the dining hall at Unitas
Arrived. Took 30 hours. Got stuck in Hong Kong. We piled onto the plane, only to sit there for an hour an then be told the plane was broken. Not such a problem, but slightly worrying given that it was the plane I’d just sat on for 11 hours from London!
Met a nice Aussie family on the bus and chatted away. The bus took a brief stop at a 24 hour toilet and I got to experience the delights of a heated toilet seat. On the way back out, there was a vending machine selling coffee and hot chocolate in cans! The best invention ever! Sat at the back of the bus drinking hot coffee and grinning smugly.
Arrived at Hirafu late (about 10.30pm) and was met by Kate (one of the ski supervisors), who took me to my accommodation in Unitas, where I met Francis, a friendly Singaporean guy that lives in Australia and is my new roommate. The room is small, but cosy – it’s basically a log cabin.

Yotei-san from Hanazono

After getting a half-decent night’s sleep, I hopped on the free bus and spent today exploring the mountain. Niseko is divided into 4 areas, from West to East: Ann’puri, Niseko Village (renamed from Higayashima), Hirafu and Hanazono. I’ll be working at Hanazono and Hirafu. It’s a medium sized place, easy to get around and looks like a good place to learn and to teach. It hasn’t snowed for a few days, so it’s surprisingly scratchy in places – but I found some trees on the leeward side that had held the windblown snow. Was nice to dust off my snowlegs – although my first few runs were a bit ropey!
Rather randomly bumped into Sam and Sara at breakfast – Sam worked at Winter Park with me and Sara joined him the year after. Was nice to see some familiar faces, which took the edge of the scary loneliness!
Food is an interesting challenge here – I was really looking forward to lots of yummy Japanese food, but my (expensive) rent includes food here, which is basic, stodgy Western food . At lunch I had an explore and found that most places cost an absolute fortune and the food didn’t look that great. But I found Seicomart (a supermarket type place) and they had triangular rice ball things for 100 yen (less than a quid). I put my hiragana skills to the test and did quite well in deciphering the labels. Wasabi-nori for me then. It’s a little frustrating to not have a kitchen, cos I reckon you could eat well very cheaply here by buying fresh food from Seicomart and cooking it yourself. I’m sure I’ll figure something out – have already bought miso and genmaicha!
So I’m here now. It’s not quite what I expected, but then what did I expect? I’m feeling a little worried and lonely, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before I get settled and find out all the little hidden gems!

I like to cook. A lot. It lets me be creative (literally and figuratively) and connects me to my food. And most importantly, I end up with something yummy to eat (most of the time!).
Lots of people who’ve sampled my culinary experiments have asked for recipes, so I thought I’d start blogging on food. The problem is I don’t tend to follow recipes – I look at them to get ideas and inspiration, but most of the time I get an idea then just make something up (usually cos I don’t like, haven’t got or can’t be bothered to get a particular ingredient). My approach is probably best described as ‘cincai’ (a wonderfully Manglish word meaning ‘casually’ I guess). Chuck a bit of this, bit of that, see what it looks/tastes/smells like – you know, cincai lah! This makes it kinda tricky, cos I never remember what I did!
But I thought I’d give it a go and both share my experiments/accidents and keep them for my own record.

Boxing Day Udon

The perennial question of what to do with all the left over meat from Christmas Day. In my family, it tends to get turned into a turkey curry or turkey muay (sort of Teochew rice porridge, also known as congee). But this year, I thought I’d try something different. Given that I’m heading off to Japan soon, I’ve been learning how to make my favourite Japanese foods, one of which is udon (fat, wheat noodles). Udon, like most noodles, are quite versatile, chuck ‘em in soups, stir-fry them, put them in salads or the Japanese like to have them cold with a dressing. You don’t have to make your noodles from scratch, you can buy them from most asian stores and a few English supermarkets, but I’m on a quest to learn how to make grain based staples, so I made my own – more on that another time.

Noodles

• 250g flour
• 150ml water
• 1 tsp of salt

1. Dissolve the salt in the water. Sift the flour into a big bowl and slowly stir the salt water in.
2. As the dough comes together, start using your fingers to roll it in the remaining loose flour and squeeze it. Once it’s picked up all the flour and is a consistent lump, knead it for a few minutes on a floured surface until it feels elastic.
3. Flatten it slightly and let it rest for a few hours in some clingfilm – this lets the gluten do something or other and makes it more elastic. I like to sandwich it between a large piece of folded clingfilm. Go make your soup. Chop chop.
4. Bring a big pot of water to the boil while you roll your noodles out.
5. Once the dough has rested, it’s time to roll it out – the fun part. Now because the dough will be quite firm, the traditional Japanese way of rolling it out is to tread on it! The warmth of your feet and your weight make life a lot easier. I keep it between a piece of folded clingfilm (give it lots of room!) and put it in a clean plastic bag, drop it on the floor and start walking!
6. Once you’ve got it quite spread out (and before it squeezes out all over your feet and the floor!), unwrap it and lay it out on a floured surface. Dust a bit of flour on it and roll it out so that it’s even and about 5mm thick (or however thick you want your noodles).
7. Flour the dough well so it doesn’t stick to itself and fold the top 1/3 towards you and the bottom 1/3 away from you so it gives you 3 layers. Using a sharp knife, through the layers thinly (or as fat as you want your noodles). I usually go for about 3-5mms.
8. Separate your noodles carefully and lob them into the boiling water for a few minutes to cook. Once they’re cooked, drain them and rinse them in cold water to stop them sticking – magic!

Soup

• 1/2 onion or some shallots
• 1 chilli (optional)
• 1-2 cloves of garlic (optional)
• Chicken stock
• Soy sauce
• Sesame oil

This is quite a generic soup recipe, it changes everytime I make it, but this time I wanted a bit of a kick, so put chilli in. If you’re in a rush, or not keen on strong flavours, then you can just use chicken stock (but that’s boring!!).

To serve

• Udon noodles
• Soup base
• Leftover meat
• Pak choi or other leafy veg (spinach, lettuce, choi sum, etc)
• Garnishings e.g. spring onions, bawang goreng (crispy fried shallots – yum), coriander, dash of sesame oil

1. Bring the soup to the boil, add noodles and veg. I like a bit of bite to my veg, so I don’t cook it for long.
2. Cut up the meat and add it to the soup to heat up (you don’t want to cook it so that it’s chewy).
3. Serve it into bowls and add some garnish. Enjoy!

I suppose I should explain this whole Japan thing really. Having been back in the UK for 18 months, trying to lead a ‘normal’ life, I finally had enough of office life, for a whole host of reasons. One way to sum it up is that I feel out of sync with the conventional workplace. A square peg in a grid of round holes. Stifled. But the most simple explanation is that it was making me miserable. Deeply so. So I’m leaving that life, sort of. I am torn between two worlds – one of trying to make a difference, change the world or whatever; the other about following my heart and seeking personal fulfillment. Is it possible to find a balance?

For me, the only course of action was to do something that makes my heart sing and keep open to opportunities. So I decided to go back to the mountains, shoved some proverbial career irons in the fire and let life take its course. Having applied late, I wasn’t very hopeful – then I got offered not one, but two jobs in Japan. I had one of those life moments where everything just falls into place to make something happen. Within 2 weeks, I had a job, booked my flight, let my flat out and got my visa. Fate? Wu wei wu? Chance? Does it matter – I’m off to a land with an average of 15m of snow each season! A land of bonsai, sushi, origami, cherry blossoms – all things I love – and finally getting the motivation to learn the language. Rock on. Sugoi desu ne?

What happens after the season? Who knows, we’ll see what the winds bring me, all I know is that I feel like I’m back on the right path for me, wherever it may lead.

So, went to the opticians today and happened to catch sight of the Metro – what did they have on their front page? A little snippet about Japan. So I turn to the 2 page feature, which is all about Niseko! Having never seen anything about Niseko, Hokkaido or even Japan, suddenly it’s sneaking out. Clearly there are higher powers speaking to me. Even if that happens to be Rupert Murdoch.

A fitting metaphor...

OK, so in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve changed my website! It’s a bit more streamlined now and you can comment on blog entries too.

I’ve had the site for a while and what started as a sandbox for messing around with web technology and design has mutated into a slightly navel-gazing blog. So I thought I’d update it to reflect that – but also have a think about why I have this site in the first place.

I guess it’s been partly to keep people up-to-date with the maelstrom of my life, but also was a vent, an outlet for voice. Given the way I look at life, it’s ended up being quite ponderous and introspective/angsty, which is fine (aside from convincing my parents that I’m either a) on drugs or b) losing my marbles), but I want to include more of the mundane too in an attempt to dispel the impression that I’m just an angst-ridden hermit (for right or wrong!).

So, what is it now? Well, I’m gonna try and embrace the blogging tradition (is it one yet?) and blog more regularly, hopefully with slightly less esoteric updates and more trivial blatherings from my abstract mind.

View from Helena's

A leisurely final day together – breakfast at the dizzying heights of Helena’s, some shopping and late lunch/dinner at Pilgrim’s feed n read. M leaves early the next day and I’m left on my own.

Thamel streets

The next day, I start with a tasty low-cholesterol breakfast at Pilgrim’s. I write and read a little, happy to have been recognised by the staff. Invited to music later. I wander Thamel and buy a bansuri, spend some time in the store playing guitar and thwacking drums. Wander off feeling blissfully happy and carefree.

Try to get an electric Safa Tempo, but get conned onto a normal tempo to Boudnath. 15 rupees later, having been squeezed into the low roof Suzuki, I spill out in front of Boudnath stupa. I pay 100 rupees for entry and get given a leaflet, before realising it’s free. It’s pretty, but no real connection, I spy a roof top cafe and seek it out.

Watchful eyes

The Saturday Cafe fills a spot and I sit, read and write, eavesdropping on conversations high about the stupa. Hours float by, soup and chiya. I wander off to find a gompa – the oldest in Boudnath.

Butter lamps

Wandering through narrow side streets, I sheepishly poke my head in and ask if it’s ok to look around. The monks speak great english, I slip my flip-flops off and slide through the curtain.

15 pairs of eyes swivel in my direction, still chanting.

I feel very out of place. Nervously namaste-ing, I creep in. A monk motions for me to sit just as a huge cacophony starts. The tantric drums pound through my body. I sit transfixed and gradually settle into the experience. I scatter rice as the monks perform full body prostrations. Then comes a point in the puja where something is poured into the monks’ hands, they sip it then wipe it on their shorn heads. A monk approaches and pours some of the bright yellow liquid into my hand. I follow suit and wonder what I’ve just consumed. Later they offer me bread (that is familiar to me as yau char kway) and some sort of hot drink – maybe involving yak butter. It’s sweet and warm, but looks like dish water. Unsure whether it’s right for me to take part, I decide to accept as an acknowledgement of our interconnectedness. Puja finishes and I’m swept into a sea of locals circumambulating the stupa. Dazzled and intrigued, I finally head back to Kathmandu.

Dusk at Boudnath

I visit Pilgrims’, intent on chilling to sitar music, but something doesn’t feel right. I reject the linen clad bearded hippies and head for Japanese food, contemplating the sudden influx of Japanese-ness into my life,

Dinner at O Fukuru No Aji is… spiritual and nourishing. I sit cross-legged, enjoying the calm, reading and writing – a happy closing memory of a great country to which we’re sure to return.

Goat on the roof of a passing bus

We probably didn’t do Lumbini justice, but we’re pleased to leave. The early morning mist and sunrise warm our hearts. We arrive early in Bhairawa and dodge bus drivers to contemplate our mode of transport. After waiting for it to arrive, we pay 750 rupees each for an A/C bus. Glorious luxury! Comfy seats, air conditioning, clean water, fantastic break stops. Overpriced, but worth it. Our bags were even in the boot!

We’re dropped rather unceremoniously on the outskirts of Kathmandu and after wandering around in the dust, pollution and noise, we find a tempo to Ratna Park for a mere 15 rupees. We find the Horizon Hotel and breathe a sigh of relief. O fukura no aji for dinner as we can’t see to find Koto.

Sal tree

Turtles peeking out

We start with a pleasant, if protracted breakfast. A hippy guy nearby is playing the bansuri and all is peaceful. I silently vow to learn it and wander Kung Fu style finding nice spots to play.

Monks in Lumbini

Beautiful morning spent at the Mayadevi temple where Siddharta was born. We find the Sal tree that has become a shrine.

Several monks sit guard, prayer flags fluttering and butterflies drifting past. Propping ourselves on a meditation platform, we watch the world go by. I peek at the turtles in the pond and they peek back. Playful chipmunks race around chasing each other before pausing to namaste.

Even the chipmunks are at it

Unfortunately the serenity soon fades as noisy school groups and loutish kids come through. We both search for sanctuary, but fail to find the promised peace that we’d hoped for. Late lunch back at the 3 Foxes and we’re ready to leave Lumbini – our room begins to feel like a prison and we long for Kathmandu.

Crowds at Lumbini

What had looked like a straightforward solution of a bus from Lumbini dissolves into bus strikes. Our mood makes this feel like a major barrier, but the reality is that an overpriced taxi to Bhairawa connects us to a bus out East.

We contemplate the Crane Sanctuary and Japanese food, but it feels like too much of an effort and we’re fed up of being ripped off. Sweetcorn soup suffices and we sleep.

Machapuchare in the morning

Early start, Mustang bus station, conned into sitting at a nice cafe by a guy whose daughter is a Gurkha. Masala chiya and random pastry in the morning sun. Indian video coach showing Hindi films.

More random roadside curry – mixed with rice, potato, onion, some sort of round yellow bean (chickpea? mung?), chilli powder, coconut powder and possibly lemon, all served in a newspaper cone with a piece of card as a scoop. Yum! First time I had it was on the way back from Beni – 5 rupees and your life in your hands. A wiry Indian-looking guy with a tray balanced on a cushion on his head and a stand weaving in and out of buses, setting up before whizzing everything up in a dirty plastic beaker!

EDIT: I’ve since discovered that it’s called chat and is a mix of soya beans, radish, chilli, salt and lemon

Our chariot

Dodgy roadside stops, meet Prince and friends – helps me buy some yummy clementines – 30 rupees for a big bag. He gives me his card and invites me to look him up in India.

Our trip comes to an abrupt halt as we are almost ejected at the edge of Bhairawa, which turns out to make life easier getting to Lumbini – decision made then!

Staggering through the dust and noise we somehow find a bus just leaving for Lumbini and jump on the roof – M loses a shoe and a Nepali-style rescue mission sees a random guy on a bike throw it up, just as we move off.

Dusty roads lined with mango trees – terrifyingly narrow, but refreshing in the heat. Feels much more Indian – the people, the heat, the food. 60 rupees gets the 2 of us to Lumbini. We hop off onto a dusty crossroads and stagger into Lumbini Bazaar and the Lumbini Village Lodge. Too tired to decide otherwise, we go for it. 2 cold showers later, we feel almost human and wander out for food. It’s a pleasant and quiet village and feels very homely. The 3 Foxes restaurant entices us in and lots of food emerges, including banana custard! Fearsome number of mozzies even though I’m coated in Deet. Pleasantly full and satisfied with our day, we drift off to sleep under the safety of my mozzie net.