Sumi

Did I mention what a great fan I am of Japanese design? Everything around us during our stay in Japantown was possessed of that particular spare grace, that exquisite sense of proportion and balance, that clean and uncluttered aesthetic that typifies Japanese design.
From our bed to the landscaping along the streets below our windows, from the napkins at our dinner table to the faucets in the bathroom...everything was just so.
By our second morning, the rain had gentled to a pleasant drizzle and the low ceiling of the sky had lifted a bit, changing the landscape by a degree or two.
Nevertheless, we reveled in the rare luxury of being able to lounge around in bed of a morning.
Of course, the sheer abandon of QQ's pleasure in that big, downy bed was encouragement enough for us!
Vivian asked about the Japanese bath, and I just happen to have a few more details on that topic to show you. I have read about the Japanese bathing ceremony before, but had never tried it myself. It's deceptively simple. Please correct me if I'm wrong on the details - I'm sure I am. The instructions in the room were very abbreviated for the sake of gaijin visitors, and I have not studied the true ceremony - though I intend to do so now that I've discovered the pleasures!) First, one sits down on a wooden stool outside of the tub in order to cleanse onesself of the day's grime. There is a separate low faucet and a drain in the floor for the water that one uses in this step. To us westerners, it may seem counterintuitive to wash before the bath, much less wet the bathroom floor - but the whole bathroom is designed for this purpose, complete with a tiled lip at the outer door to keep the water from invading the separate sink and mirror space used for ablutions. Forgive me if I explain this clumsily, but I think the point is that the bath itself, the soaking part, is for the spirit and the body, not for removing dirt. The Japanese do not believe in soaking in one's own filth (and, when you think about it, they kind of have a point!) First, seated on the wooden stool, one scrubs onesself down with an exfoliating soap (or a loofa, or something along those lines). Gathering water from the external tap in the wooden bucket, one pours it repeatedly over onesself until all the road dust and grime is rinsed away. This actually feels wonderful. The repetitive motion of filling the bucket and pouring over ones back, head and limbs seems to put one in the right state of mind for the next part of the bathing process.

One can fill the tub while one is performing the first part of the ceremony - it takes a long time to fill a tub this deep. It's hard to tell from the photos, but the tub is only filled a quarter of the way for QQ's bath. Filled to capacity, the water reached my chin - and I'm nearly six feet tall with an exceptionally long back, so that's saying a lot! The bath in the hotel room was rectangular, and very deep - though I believe that traditional tubs in Japan are more square in dimension, and usually made of wood. Again, correct me if I'm wrong. Here, the tub is ceramic and the lip made of granite.
The hotel provided us with a packet of eucalyptus bath salts to add to the water, but I'm not sure that's the traditional addition. At the Shu Uemura store, I found a line of wonderfully scented bath oils for this purpose, and ended up buying M. a bottle of the Japanese cedar oil, which was delightful and invigorating. At any rate, one can add aromatherapy oils or salts to the water while filling the tub, either to relax, detoxify, calm or invigorate the spirit.
Once cleansed of the day's debris, one slides into the deep tub up to the chin, and soaks to the heart and soul's content. This quickly became my favorite part of the day. The coffee that you see in these shots was purely our gaijin addition, and is most likely counterintuitive to the traditional ceremony. The Japanese have a separate tea ceremony that we did not have time to explore, though we did indulge in the Chinese version of the tea ceremony more than once during our adoption trip, and it was just as purifying and delicious as the bath ceremony was here. Someday I hope to try the Japanese version (and they do offer it at the Kabuki. We just didn't have time to indulge).
Another Japanese luxury, the beautifully-designed Japanese garden. We were rained out during these first couple of days, but took advantage of it later in the week (photos to come).
I think QQ enjoyed the rain as much as we did.
A light sculpture in the lobby.

Stay tuned...much, much more of our trip to San Francisco still to come!

First morning in Japantown

Our first morning in the city dawned delightfully stormy and moody, though the rain was rather of the torrential variety, and we quickly ducked inside Japantown's indoor plaza for shelter. We have still to get used to the fact that "QQ hours" are not the same as business hours, and nearly all of the stores were still locked and shuttered. The morning cafes and bakeries, however, were already beginning to bustle with early customers, and let me tell you that the bakeries in Japantown are nothing to be sneezed at! We found a little watergarden cafe where M. ordered an omelet (QQ pursed her lips and refused to try it). But the real draw was on the side of the cafe where a little takeout window with a painted sign advertised "Taiyaki" - a sort of moulded fish-shaped cake filled with either red beans (very traditional), banana, or bananas with melted chocolate.
We were instantly smitten, and spent a half hour or so watching the little cakes being poured, browned and trimmed.
I have to tell you, I am a sucker for both Japanese design and Japanese cooking. I mean, if you're going to make a pancake, is there any reason why it shouldn't be this beautiful to look at?
In the end, we ordered a chocolate and banana taiyaki.
Unwrapping our culinary delight. One of my favorite things about the Japanese aesthetic is that - well, put simply, the journey is the destination. Unwrapping something as beautifully crafted as this is half the pleasure. Whether it's the slow, methodical ritual of the Japanese bath, the tea ceremony, or the elaborate preparation of a simple dish, the craftsmanship, the artifice, the presentation make the experience. It is truly breathtaking, and gets me at the core every time.
The taiyaki were so pretty and so perfectly prepared that I had a hard time taking the first bite. As you can see by QQ's expression, she was resistant even to the idea. But I tell you what, I have a feeling that we'll end up with a taiyaki maker at home...and one day when QQ's tastes have expanded beyond cheese puffs, she'll thank us for the introduction!
Done with breakfast and ready for the next adventure.
Most of the stores were still closed, but even window shopping is a pleasure in this environment. Everything the Japanese design is pleasing to the eye.
Q was mesmerized with these little bobblehead toys which nod their heads in a meditative rhythm thanks to a tiny solar panel embedded in the base. I have one in my studio which M. got me last year on my birthday - mine is a monkey, and as it dances it also infuses the air with a delicious scent of lemon blossoms...delightful, and so soothing to the senses!
Just so pretty.
See what I'm talking about? These were from the windows of an enormous and comprehensive Japanese book and collectible emporium that headlines the Japantown shopping center. I was a goner the moment I glanced in at their displays through the glass, and, hard as I tried to feign indifference, my husband saw right through me. We were among the first customers in the door when they opened that morning.
I don't know what it is, but even the kawaii stuff just appeals to me on some very basic level.
Is it just me?
The kicker on these - the real genius of the concept - is that they come in "mystery boxes". Each set has a single box design, inside of which (like a high-end version of the prize inside the cereal box) is one of a dozen or so different models. Of course, you wind up wanting to collect them all. At about $6 a pop, they seem like an affordable indulgence....
There are sets of curious little dolls like the ones above (the pigs in costume are also strangely appealing), sets of kitchen items, sets of meals (see the lobster dinner with champagne on the table here), sets of traditional Japanese country foods, sets of home furnishings....
...but I knew I was lost when I came upon the sets of modernist designer chairs. This is my realm, my "fetish", and my downfall. I adore classic modern designer chairs. In design school, I longed to take the seminar on chair design (though I didn't have time, since I was attempting to cram an entire degree into two semesters...no mean feat). The names Bertoia, Eames and Le Corbusier (or "Le Corbu" as we affectionately called him in design school) strike joy in my heart. In real life, I can't even come close to affording these chairs. I have a single knock-off Bertoia diamond chair which I use as my office chair, and even that was a splurge. Design Within Reach is far out of reach for my budget. So the sight of these tiny miniatures set me instantly lusting. I bought one that first morning, and went back for another one each day of our trip, waiting until we were back in the hotel room of an evening to open my "mystery box" and see which chair I had! Sigh. I did not collect all of them - that would have been a bit over-indulgent (and then what would I have to look forward to?) - just one for each day of the trip. But I did end up with some good ones...enough little boxes that I had to have my loot shipped home via UPS. Now I excitedly wait for the box to arrive so that I can unpack them for a second time and find a shelf for them!
Even QQ saw the attraction of the designer chairs! Maybe she'll inherit her mama's obsession. Or maybe she'll design chairs of her own! At any rate, she'll have the coolest dollhouse furniture on the block when she's old enough to handle them carefully. Oh, yes, she will.
A Yoshitomo Nara book which, showing great restraint, we did not purchase.
The funniest thing we saw while in Japantown were the teenaged Caucasian Harajuku-girl-wannabes. I had no idea such a thing existed. It was really quite amazing. And it looked labor-intensive to create this kind of cosplay hairdo with fine Caucasian hair. They were like bees to honey in this bookstore, needless to say! I asked M. what he thought their goal was, hanging out in Japantown dressed up like a bunch of groupies. He promptly said, "Waiting for Sailor Moon to come sweep them off their feet, I imagine. He's dreamy!"
My husband is a crackup.
QQ leading the way.
A world of Japanese books and magazines. To my credit, I kept my book purchases to a single miniature volume of Hiroshige woodblock prints.
The Japanese have a way with prints. Oh, the exquisite simplicity.
A happy girl.
Kawaii overload.
As you can see, this restaurant was apparently attended by John and Yoko at some point, as well as Keanu Reeves. Since we did not eat here, we can't vouch for it. But we did sample several others, and the food was consistently superb. In fact, I don't think I've ever had so many really exquisite meals during the course of a single trip before.

Headed out again in the rain.

An intermission (sorry!)

Taking a step back (photo from a couple weeks ago) to restate what I keep restating, but am somehow never able to restate often enough:
I am (we are, I should say) completely and totally enamoured of our daughter.
She is simply amazing.
How did we never know it could be like this?
How is it possible that, in all these childless years (and we have remained childless longer than most) we never guessed at what we were missing?
OK...I do not regret that we both waited. Not one iota. In fact, I don't believe it could've happened any other way. For us, it had to be the right time, the right place, with the right people. It was right. And if we hadn't waited for exactly the right moment, we would never have met the QQ...and, well, that would have been a real tragedy!
This kid - I just can't say it enough ways - gives us happiness 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. She gives us happiness in doses that we never imagined possible.
Being on this past week's trip to San Francisco, we experienced something new with her. Since our time together in China (during which we were all, certainly, in shock) this is the first time we've had an extended period of time just being together as a family of three. M. started back at work and school very quickly after we returned, and we have been trading "shifts" ever since. This isn't a bad thing - it has worked quite well for us. It's a good way to maintain our sanity and get a healthy amount of rest. But it does mean that for five or six days of every week, Q is either with mommy or with daddy, not usually with both.
This week was our first real trip as a family, our first time existing together in a different environment, and our first time spending most of the week - day-in and day-out - together as a threesome.
Now, QQ is learning, changing and advancing at lightening speed these days, and on this trip her advancement was even more obvious than usual. First of all, she evidently ADORED traveling. I could see that same eager spark in her eye as I remember having as a child, setting off on an adventure by plane. She loved every minute of it - the flights, the transfers, the cabs and buses and restaurants, the hotel, the new faces everywhere we went. QQ is, as she has always been at heart, a social butterfly, and she adored being the ambassador in every lobby, ever bus, every coffeeshop we stopped in.
I was so very proud of her both for her eagerness and love of adventure, and for her social prowess. But what was especially amazing was how the week's trip kicked up her bonding with us by a few more notches.
Honestly, we thought she was exceptionally well-bonded to begin with. Her progress in that department has been steady and strong since the beginning. But both of us found we could feel her grow just that much more attached to us during the course of this trip. It was clear...in her gestures and signs of affection, in the way she touched us and in her quick, astute way of communicating.
We are fortunate. In the first days, it was clear that she thought we were OK. After the first month or two, it was obvious that she liked us. By six months, you could see that she loved us. Now, it's just one big smiley, huggy love fest on all three of our parts.
Finally, I have to counsel you not to get me wrong: it's not that we haven't had any trouble with this child. She is no angel. O-ho-ho no! This kid is a little devil. She does 20 dangerous things before breakfast every day. She is flat-out exhausting. The kid never stops moving...and she is stronger than an anaconda in heat. She is DETERMINED to do every single thing we say "no" to. Avert your eyes for three seconds and she will have stuffed a pizza flyer, a package of balloons, two icecream wrappers and a bottle of shampoo into her mouth - all of which will result in a fifteen-minute battle to stop her from choking, during which your fingers will be bitten to the bone a minimum of three times. If the battle last more than five minutes, she will dissolve into self-righteous tears. But as soon as you have removed the offending articles from her mouth, a smile will dawn through the tears like a sunrise, and within seconds she will giggle and give you a look through wet lashes that says "Thank you for caring about me, and I'm sorry for causing your heart to stop!" Within moments, she will grin and laugh and hug you, and go back to playing happily with her toys, or guzzling her soup, and all will be forgiven. Her affection, her kisses, her frequent and heart-melting smiles make every stressful moment worth the trouble and then some. The blatant and profuse happiness of this child makes every day a joy to wake up to, and fills us with more fulfillment than we ever imagined possible.
It is not because of her danger-loving nature but in spite of it that this child makes us happier than we have ever been in our lives. Does that make sense? She is the joy machine. She is the sun breaking through the clouds. Every morning when we awake, even if we're sick with flu, or overworked, or under-whelmed, the sight of her shining, happy, mischievous face lights up our world like a Roman candle.
So, there it is.
Now, back to our trip....

San Francisco, Part 1

We're back from San Francisco, and I've just finished downloading nearly 900 photos from my little Coolpix...and that's after erasing all of those I could bear to part with! Needless to say, I'll be posting in segments, while we settle back in and catch up on things at home.

I have always been fond of San Francisco, though I haven't spent any significant time there since my early teens. I have to say it was far more spectacular even than I'd remembered. Our trip was not without snafus (storm delays on the way out, and a flu that hit M & I pretty hard toward the end of the week) but in spite of these things it was one of the best trips in recent memory. We all three had a fabulous time, and I hope we'll be able to return before too long. QQ is the ambassador of this family, and was making friends before we'd even gotten to the departure gate at DIA. She found this family just as we were sitting down to lunch in the main terminal.
This being our first trip "with child" since returning from China, we'd left ourselvelves a huge window of time in which to make it to the airport, take a shuttle from the outer parking lots, and wrangle all of our luggage.
This little girl - almost exactly the same age as Q - was a real cutie!
It wasn't until we'd already been sitting at the gate for a half our that we discovered that a huge storm had slammed into the West Coast, backing up flights into SFO for several hours to come. Thinking fast, M. managed to get us transferred onto a flight into Oakland, which meant that we'd have to wait a little over two hours extra, as opposed to six for the SF flight. As a teen, I had stayed in Berkeley and Oakland with friends, and had made many a trip under the bay on the BART train. But that was decades ago, and neither of us was quite sure what sort of a latenight commute we'd face, luggage and child in tow, when we reached the coast.
In spite of having been too excited to nap on the plane, QQ remained her cheerful, game self for the entire, lengthy trip - complete with two bus rides, several luggage transfers and a long train trip. Making the trip from the Oakland airfield to the BART station in the pouring, pounding rain didn't phase her, nor did the long, ear-popping ride by commuter train under the bay.
Here we are on the BART, which is a bit grubbier and more run-down than the sparkling-new version I remember from the late '70s...but still a pretty nice way to travel on-the-cheap.
Bumbling along, we somehow managed to get off at exactly the right station in the city in order to get quickly to our hotel. Still, it was a couple of hours past Q's bedtime, and she had soaked through a couple of pairs of pants, by the time we arrived. As you can see, none of this affected her mood.
She was absolutely delighted by our room at the Hotel Kabuki, as were we!
I had pictured one of the tinier, funky boutique hotels of the kind we've stayed at in NYC. But the Kabuki is spacious and elegant with lovely amenities. We even had a little balcony with spectacular views over the city.
The deep Japanese bath was pure heaven (more on that in later posts) and every day there was a packet of eucalyptus bath salts awaiting our daily bathing ceremony. Let me tell you, if we ever have the means for any major home improvement, a Japanese bathroom is going to be the first thing on my list!...and the bed. Don't get me started! You can see how happy QQ was with it. She herself had to make due with a portable crib (hardly fair!) but each morning we freed her and let her snuggle under the eiderdown with us, which she adored.

I love the Obi at the end of the bed. Nice touch.

That's one happy girl, after a long, looooooooooooooong day of travel.
View across a misty, stormy city from our balcony.

Stay tuned! More on the way......