Since leaving America August 2006, I have traveled to sixteen countries. A great deal has happened. This site is to share my thoughts, photos, music, writings, travel experiences, and developing political/social commentary with you. I hope you find it interesting and informative.
Here’s a challenge. Can anyone out there guess what this is?
I always say that here in Japan, almost every day I get some new, interesting surprise.
So?
You’ve probably figured out by now this is a vending machine. But what kind of vending machine? What does it vend?
Admittedly, I haven’t lived in the U.S. for over 14 years.
But I can still say with 100% confidence that a vending machine like this DOES NOT EXIST anywhere in the States. Of course, they have vending machines for many items: candy, chips, cookies, coffee, cigarettes, condoms, crackers, Coke, Pepsi and Sprite.
But notthis!
Okay, here’s another photographic clue, a close-up of the photo on the machine below the selection buttons.
Does this help? Are you getting closer?
Whoa! I’m as fidgety as a canary on Monster Zero Ultra. Frankly . . . I can’t stand the suspense any longer.
So here it is. This is a vending machine for . . .
[ Drum roll ]
OYSTERS!
Yes, my patient and dedicated readers . . . fresh oysters is what comes out, after you plop some money in.
Now I’m not an oyster fan. The texture is fine. That slippery, slimy, mucousy vibe is not a problem for me. Nor is the oceanic salinity or organic rawness. I love squid and octopus, sushi and sashimi, seaweed and kelp. I just don’t especially like the flavor of oysters. There was even a world-class oyster bar in Portland, Oregon — my last permanent home in the U.S. — and I never went.
On the other hand, my wife Masumi loves oysters!
How convenient, eh? It’s 3:00 am and wham! she gets an oyster craving. No stores open? Not a problem. Just drive over to the OYSTER VENDING MACHINE!
Unfortunately, this particular one isn’t very convenient. It’s about 2 1/2 hours away in a town called Ayabeyama Bairin, famous at this time of year for the 20,000 plum trees in its Tatsuno Gardens. We went there to enjoy the early-flowering blossoms. Ayabeyama Bairin is right on the coast and fishing is one of the main industries. We discovered the vending machine at a fresh oyster stand as we left the area to head home.
Of course, no way could we leave the area without Masumi stocking up. Here she is in the final stage of buying some of the slimy taste delights.
No one likes being stopped by the police for running a stop sign or failing to wear a seat belt. That’s true everywhere. Such interactions with enforcement officers mean a ticket and a fine. At the same time, if you were in violation of the law, regardless of how minor the infraction, they’re just doing their job, there’s no reason to resent, hate, or fear them.
The other side of the coin is that on rare occasions, calling the police yourself is the best option in handling a situation. It’s certainly quite helpful to be able to request professional assistance. A stranger is wandering around in your back yard. A stray dog is foaming at the mouth, leaping in the air, apparently infected with rabies. A person has just crashed their car into a tree and is slumped over unconscious behind the wheel. You do what you have to do and a trained, concerned, professional police officer is an obvious place to start when dealing with many emergencies.
In over twelve years, I’ve only had three interactions with the police here in Japan. All were fine, not in the least unpleasant.
One time early in the evening, I was driving down the main street here in town, came to a stop at a T-intersection, and two officers stepped up to my car. They didn’t even ask me for identification. They simply wanted to know if I’d been drinking. I replied, “I don’t drink.” They thanked me and I went on my way.
Another occasion I wrote about in the article Life In Japan: Koban. That was a very intense situation with the police helping a disoriented lady I found laying on the side of the road, who miraculously hadn’t been run over before I walked her to the police station. The officer was extremely polite and highly professional, asked questions and took a lot of notes for his report on the incident. He got the lady safely back to the retirement facility she had wandered away from.
One other time, I was riding my bike and an officer on a motorbike stopped me, looked at the registration tag on my bike to make sure it was current and my bike not on their stolen list. The whole thing took about 30 seconds and I went on my way. Yes, they patrol on motorbikes. And yes, they are meticulous about stopping bicycle theft.
Which brings me to the actual theme of this particular article, the vast difference between policing here and what appears to be going on back in the U.S.
Whereas the police in America are frequently viewed as adversaries, not to be trusted, to be avoided, sought as a last resort in many communities — especially communities of color — here in Japan, they are still viewed as trusted public servants. Being a police officer is a highly-regarded, admired profession. As I was brought up to believe way back in the 20th Century, a police officer is a member of the community and your friend.
The article posted at the top is about a visit by police officers to a local school to show the students a typical police van. The kids were extremely excited and fascinated by the way it was outfitted. And the officers ended up giving the students a ride in the vehicle. That’s the way the police like to be seen and regarded here, by citizens of all ages.
My wife’s daughter, Izumi, teaches kindergarten here locally. The police occasionally are invited by her school to meet with the kids, who regard their visits as a special occasion. Last time they came by, they worked in the school’s garden with the children, harvesting sweet potatoes. Students and police then took the fresh potatoes inside, baked them and had lunch together.
Perhaps nothing sums up how unique the police are here than this story. Here we meet Yemon, a cat which has been recruited to work in Yoro Station in Miyazu, Kyoto.
I have a feeling that being a “cat burglar” is not a very good idea in this police precinct with Yemon on the job.
[ Police Power I and Police Power II are part of my collection of 62 anecdotes about life in the REAL JAPAN for me as an expat. It’s getting fantastic reviews and I believe it will put a lot of smiles out into the world, as well as valuable insights into this fascinating country. Available across the globe for the asking . . .
No, this is not an electron microscope image of a coronavirus.
In fact, it is the best dessert pastry I’ve had in my entire life!
Not that it’s an easy decision here in Japan. The dessert pastries are absolutely incredible! Part of what makes them so delicious is that they’re not as sweet as what I’m used to in the U.S. and other Western countries. But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you a little about the whole sweet treat scene here.
Japanese dessert dispensaries are specialized. Yes, we have bakeries. But bakeries only sell bread, rolls, croissants and other dough-based pastries, e.g. what we might call Danishes.
Then there are cake shops. Guess what they sell! And chocolate shops. And there are a very popular staple here in Japan, DUMPLING SHOPS.
Mind you, we have meat and vegetable dumplings which are served as main course items. They are called gyoza, are pan-fried, and are awesomely delicious in their own right. These are served in restaurants and found in great abundance in grocery stores. Some are made industrially or frozen, the really good ones are made fresh.
The dessert dumplings are a whole different genre. They come invarious configurations. All of them are filled or covered with some amazing confectionary concoction or fruit. Here are some examples: These are mochi and dango dessert dumplings.
This is the perfect segue to what I just ate because in many ways, it’s so representative of the creativity I’ve experienced. This heavenly treat purchased at a cake shop was actually a hybrid, the exterior not frosting but dumpling!
First, let me make it clear. My comments are not meant to denigrate American pastries. Hey! Lots of sugar and butter! How could anyone complain?
The big difference is Japanese pastries are so DELICIOUSLY COMPLEX. Look at these photos of the inside of my globular sugar bomb.
Yes, the outside of my “cake” was dumpling dough. Oh my, it was so delicate and smooth to the tongue, it literally melted in my mouth. But that was just the deceptively simple sheath inviting the taste buds into a world of wonders.
Honestly, I can’t identify all of the components that went into this masterpiece. Every forkful I took, revealed more delectable surprises. Strawberries, strawberry syrup, whip cream, vanilla chiffon, an amazing cookie crust on the bottom, garnished with caramelized sugar, and something deliciously green, visible in the last photo.
Mind you, even though the final result is sweet tasting, none of these elements individually were especially sweet. Obviously they contained sugar but not at levels that obscured the distinct and delicate flavors of each component. Which now is my criticism of the “cake” and other desserts we eat in America. They are laced with so much sugar! About as subtle as an atomic bomb. Granted, cake in the U.S. is spectacular. As is watching people there go into traction or collapse in a twitching heap from sugar shock.
Even so, there’s really no point in trying to identify which is better. They are different approaches to pleasing the palate. Japanese pastries are like a quiet walk on a moonlit beach. American pastries are like a D-Day landing on that same beach accompanied by naval artillery and air power.
Each has its supporters. Each has its place in the world. Each has its cultural roots.
Of course, there are health implications. The obesity rate in Japan among adults is 4.3%. In America it’s 36.2%.
