Mmm! Pig guts.

Since arriving in Japan, I've discovered many Japanese foods I like. Joe and I are regular customers at the local sushi restaurant, and last winter there were many cold days when I enjoyed a steaming hot bowl of udon, these deliciously thick noodles like the kind you'd expect in grandma's homemade chicken noodle soup. The tempura (deep fried vegetables or seafood) is also super tasty though probably super sinful. I recommend the Just Hungry blog for many yummy Japanese recipes.

While testing my palate, I've also put many "foods" in my mouth that I never dreamed I'd eat. Any number of fish eggs (roe), shrimp with the eyes and legs still attached, a sea snail and a half-cooked crab leg that very nearly made me hurl in the middle of a restaurant. Just to name a few that come to mind.

Often, eating these things has not really been a matter of choice. Well, the crab leg was a choice, but I didn't realize it wasn't totally cooked. The other things were served to me by Japanese who might have been offended if I didn't try them. The snail was actually kinda decent. The fish eggs I can do without.

I've grown so accustomed to the idea of eating things that ought not be edible that it didn't really phase me when my new Japanese friend from the gym called me to invite me to dinner someplace serving, she warned, food I may or may not be willing to consume.

"I wasn't sure how to say it in English," she said, "So I looked up the word in my dictionary. I'm not sure if I'll say it right but I think it's called...pig..." A pause.

Pig what.

"Pig... EEnards?"

Silence while reality set in. "Innards?" I said, half in disbelief.

"Yes!"

Pig intestines. I laughed. Then said sure. What the hell. I'd eat pig innards. Bring it on.

So a couple of Saturdays ago Joe and I met her downtown and headed to a nabe (pronounced "NAH-bay") restaurant. A nabe is an earthenware pot that they set on a portable burner in the middle of the table. This is our nabe at home. And Joe with his winter beard.


You're supposed to toss in some raw meat and mushrooms and veggies and cabbage and water for broth and let it cook right there at the table. The stuff in the restaurant looked a lot better than what we cobbled together at home.

I admit to being a bit apprehensive about the pig innards, but excited to try something new, too. My general take on exotic but seemingly disgusting food is that there are a whole lot of people out there who seem to think it's good, so it's got to have some sort of redeeming quality.

After all the stuff cooked in the pot for a bit, I spooned some out into a bowl and sprinkled some red spicy seasoning over it.


It tasted like pork, but chewy. Once you got used to the chewy part, it wasn't bad at all. Pretty tasty, actually.

And now I can say I've eaten pig intestines. Not sure how to feel about that.

Just try not to squirt milk out your nose.

A beautiful thing happened recently.

A Pizza Hut opened up near our house. Just a 15-minute walk away.

This welcome development means that once a month, when Pizza Hut has a half-off sale, instead of paying the regular $30 for a large pizza, we can easily get a pie for an easier-to-swallow $15. And, we can now invite friends over for pizza nights. Yea!

That's exactly what we did last Thursday. A couple of Joe's Japanese girl friends and our Aussie friend Roo (short for Andrew, how fitting for an Aussie, right?) came over to eat pizza and watch Thank You For Smoking.

While they were here, Roo showed us this hysterical Japanese fitness video on YouTube. Apparently at one time, these videos were made to help the Japanese learn English. They repeat short English phrases over and over while performing some aerobic moves.

Like this one. I'd say these phrases would be handy for Japanese housewives, don't you think?



I particularly like the part where they do the smacking motion while reciting, "It's your fault that this happened!"

I'm also wondering if this video would be good to show my freshmen the next time we have a lesson on health and doctor visits. Maybe I'll make them learn this dance.



I have no idea if these deliberately were made to be this ridiculous or not, but I have to think these Japanese girls don't know what they're actually saying because how else could they keep a straight face?

I have to admit, I do wish they had exercise videos to teach me these phrases in Japanese. It would be awesome if I could say "I can't stand the sight of you!" in Japanese. I could even say it to people and claim complete ignorance for being the stupid foreigner.

OK, one last one.



Uh, so, OK. First, was that a bra on that guy's head?! I wasn't sure.

Hilarious of course, though the video begs the larger question: Is this how some Japanese view westerners? Or Americans specifically? Really?

You may think that's silly, but it may not be. I remember talking to one of my students in English Club shortly after I started teaching in Japan. She said she wants to study English in college and I asked if she's interested in studying abroad. She said she'd like that, maybe in Australia or England. "What about the U.S.?" I asked. "Would you like to go to America?"

She said no. I asked why. She said something in Japanese, which the Japanese teacher translated for me.

"I don't want to get shot."

OOOOOOooooo Kaaaaaaayyyy. Great. Don't want to get shot. That's lovely.

So of course I explained to her that, despite what the media would have everyone believe, not all Americans tote guns and go on shooting sprees for fun. I told her that, except for the one visit the reporters once made to the police firing range, I had never held or shot a gun. And none of my family or friends had a gun, either. Most places are safe, I told her, and most people don't carry guns around. She seemed genuinely surprised.

When you see a video like this last one, you start to understand why she might have those kind of ideas.

Step right up, getcher turtle rides here!

Monday last week was a pretty lazy day for Joe and me. Thanks to the Children's Day holiday, we were enjoying a day off work by puttering around and enjoying the sunshine. Children's Day (May 5) is a day to celebrate the healthy growth and happiness of children. Sounds like a good enough reason to take off work to me.

We were walking leisurely under a sunny sky to the Nitori home furnishings store when we happened by this little enclosed area with parents and small children milling about. I was astonished to see several giant tortoises lumbering about in a pen, with children feeding them cucumbers and carrot sticks and greens.

I was thoroughly tickled. A random petting zoo for tortoises?? It was the last thing I ever expected to see on the sidewalk on the walk to the furniture store.

I love Japan.

Some adults sitting at a nearby table were selling jars of the veggies for 100 yen ($1), which I happily forked over. I think maybe only kids were really supposed to do it, or at least parents with kids there, but maybe I got a pass for being so exuberant. They probably just didn't want to attempt to point out, in English, that I am not, in fact, 4 years old anymore.


Maybe I'm easily entertained, but it was a real thrill to see those monster turtles up close. I held the cucumbers out with a pair of tongs and they chomped 'em up just like good turtles should: slow and steady.

Unfortunately, I was too big to join the little tots for the turtle rides.


You shoulda seen some of their faces when their parents tried to set them on the shells of those mighty beasts. Pure terror! When one father held his little daughter out in front of him and tried to set her on a tortoise, she clenched the back of his neck with such ferocity you'd think he was dropping her not into a pen of sedate reptiles but a cage of starving wolves. Precious! Happy Children's Day, kid! Now begins your life-long phobia of turtles! Hurray!

Up close, they (the tortoises... not the children) look ancient. Their heads are leathery and wrinkled and spotted. Slowly, their heads sway from one side to the other, searching for the next closest carrot stick, their scaly club-like arms pulling them along so deliberately, so sluggishly, you feel like their shell must be like lead.

I call this one Mort. Mortoise the Tortoise.


Striking fear into the hearts of small children, Mort bolts across the pen at slug speed!

Appropriately, there was even a hare hiding out at the far end of the pen, ready to put the smack down on any of the smaller turtles if they got too rowdy.

Adventures in Kyoto

Everything is starting to get back into the swing of things after a few holidays the past couple weeks. Somehow I just haven't gotten around to updating the blog. Again. Between working out and Japanese class and work it seems like I'm always pretty exhausted by the time I'm able to sit down and relax.

April 29 was Showa Day, a celebration of the birthday of Japan's last emperor. Since it fell on a Tuesday, we took that Monday off work and took a four-day trip to Kyoto. I was super excited about this trip, as Kyoto is regarded as the cultural capital of Japan with many, many magnificent old temples. Since the city avoided serious bombing during World War II, it still has a lot of old pre-war buildings. People tell me that you can explore the city for months and still not see everything.

It was about a five-hour trip by bus, which passed quickly and comfortably for me with a good book called "What Should I Do With My Life?" by Po Bronson. Yeah, I'm a little embarrassed to admit I read such a thing, but... it's a question that HAS been on my mind lately. After Japan, then what? I don't know yet. But anyway, Joe and I have decided we love traveling by bus. They're so roomy here that even a big gorilla like Joe isn't cramped.

We stayed in a hostel for the first time. It was called Backpackers Hostel K's House Kyoto, and for 5,500 yen per night ($55), we got a small room with a table, bunk beds and an air conditioner. We were on a floor with several other private rooms and a shared bathroom. It was immaculately clean, the beds were comfortable (by Japanese standards, anyway) and the air conditioner worked. Better than some of the hotel rooms we've stayed in for double the price! Plus the staff spoke great English.

The hostel was probably a 10 or 15 minute walk from the train station, located near Gion, the famous entertainment district that I was warned can be slightly seedy after dark. However, I never saw anything that made me feel unsafe. Gion also is known as the place where you can glimpse geisha, which is why I wanted to stay there.

The first thing that struck me about Kyoto, once we walked away from the giant gleaming train station, was how... unimpressive it all was. It really looked like every other city in Japan I've seen so far. Lots of concrete and plain dingy old buildings cramped together like sardines.

After we dropped our bags off at the hostel, we walked along this river on our way to find someplace to eat.


This is a shot of a big intersection around Gion.


A bit underwhelming, to say the least.

That feeling faded quickly though as we embarked on our sightseeing tour.

My favorite place was probably Fushimi-Inari Taisha, a complex of five shrines sprawled across Inari mountain in the city's south end. Japan-guide.com, a tourism web site, says Inari is the Shinto god of rice. But my Lonely Planet guide tells me Inari is the god of cereal grains, which I think is a lot cooler.

The really cool thing about this place, though, is not the shrines. It's the walk to see them. Thousands of orange torii gates form a 4-kilometer tunnel up the side of the mountain, leading visitors to the shrines. We hiked the whole way.

There are times in Japan when I just have to pause and remind myself that it's all real — Yes, I really am seeing this with my own eyes! Even now, after nine months here, it's hard to believe I'm actually seeing these ancient places, that I'm really here. I feel lucky.

The shrine at the top was nothing special, though we did get to watch a group of older Japanese people praying and chanting at the shrine.




All along the way, visitors had left countless miniature toriis as offerings, particularly around the many stone foxes guarding the path. According to Lonely Planet, "The Japanese traditionally see the fox as a sacred, somewhat mysterious figure capable of 'possessing' humans — the favoured point of entry is under the fingernails. The key often seen in the fox's mouth is for the rice granary."


Probably my next favorite spot was Kiyomizu-dera temple, a UNESCO World Heritage site that is one of the most famous temples in Japan.


To get there, we trekked up another huge hill (this one in eastern Kyoto) past lots of little shops selling Japanese souvenirs and sweets. At the top is a big temple with a decent view of the city. It juts over the side of the mountain, supported by a bunch of huge pillars. The temple was first built in the late 8th century, but it was reconstructed in 1633. It still blows my mind to think about how old so many of the temples are.

Kiyomizu-dera is named after a sacred waterfall. I never actually saw the waterfall itself, but there was a structure where some of the water was directed into a few falling streams. Visitors stuck tin cups on the end of sticks into the streams and drank the water, which is supposed to have healing properties.


I also enjoyed seeing this ancient pagoda there. All the pagodas we'd seen so far had been pretty well maintained with relatively fresh paint jobs. But fresh paint hadn't touched this one in ages, and it was cool to see what they look like when they're left untouched.

With all the Japanese maple trees that surround this place, it must be positively spectacular in the autumn. I'd love to see it again, if I can muster the patience to deal with the crush of the crowds.


Other highlights:

— A Zen temple called Kinkaku-ji, also known as the Golden Pavilion because it is covered in pure gold leaf. It too is one of Japan's most famous sites.The temple originally was built in 1397, but an obsessed monk burned it to the ground in 1950. It was rebuilt five years later.


Kinda neat, but tacky. Architecturally speaking, this temple has nothing on some of the others I've seen. But it is unique, have to give it that.

We also tried to visit its counterpart, Ginkaku-ji, the Silver Pavilion. Though it is not actually coated in silver, some of my Japanese co-workers have told me they like it better. It was undergoing some revitalization work when we arrived, though, so we chose not to pay the entrance fee to see it under construction.

— Ryozen Kwan-on, a shrine serving as a tribute to the unknown soldier of World War II. It is dedicated to the memory of more than 48,000 foreign soldiers who died on Japanese territory. This shrine is characterized by an 80-foot high statue of Bodhisattva Avalokitesvara. A Bodhisattva is "a being that compassionately refrains from entering nirvana in order to save others," and Avalokitesvara means "Lord who looks down."


Some chanting type music was being piped over loud speakers around the statue, and when you stood before it it just felt like this enormous thing was staring down at you. Creeeeeeepy!! Though the statue and main hall were in great shape, it was interesting to see that the actual memorial hall to the dead soldiers was in a state of semi-disrepair. The grounds leading up to the memorial hall were covered with weeds and the inside was rather old and dreary, containing a display with urns containing a bit of earth from all the countries involved in World War II.

— Ryoan-ji, temple of the peaceful dragon, another UNESCO World Heritage Site. Ryoan-ji is home to Japan's most famous Zen rock garden. It's a large rectangular area with 15 large rocks surrounded in a sea of carefully raked white pebbles. This is regarded as one of Japan's cultural masterpieces.


The brochure they gave me said "It is up to each visitor to find out for himself what this unique garden signifies. The longer you gaze at it, the more varied your imagination becomes. This rock garden surrounded by low earthen walls may be thought of as the quintessence of Zen art."

Yeaaah... It was lost on me.

Joe and I sat and stared at it for a couple minutes. I imagined the rocks representing the major turning points or hurdles of a person's life during their journey from birth to death, the whole time feeling ridiculous about trying to imagine some deep significance in the whole thing. I turned to Joe and mouthed the words "This is bullshit." He nodded vigorously, and we left to explore the gardens around the temple, which weren't all that impressive.

Add Zen art to modern art in the categories of artwork that I don't understand. Must've missed that gene at birth.

Moving on...

— Nijo Castle, another, you guessed it, UNESCO World Heritage site. Kyoto and neighboring Nara are full of them.

The castle just celebrated its 400th anniversary. This castle was different from the others I've seen, which have been ornate multi-level structures full of peaks and ornamentation. It looked like a single story or two with a couple large peaks in the roof. It was hard to get a good shot that looked like anything, but this was the view from the lookout.


The front entrance of the place was ornate.



We took a tour of the inside. It has 33 rooms, most of which are bare rooms covered with the straw tatami mats. The floors squeaked — you could almost say they sang — with every step. They're called Nightingale floors and they were intentionally built that way to alert residents to intruders. Photographs were "strictly forbidden" on the inside, unfortunately, so I can't show you what it looked like but it was filled with old wall paintings and and intricate carvings above the sliding doors.

Also on the castle grounds, it was cool to climb up to one of the look out areas where you can see out over the moat. The stone walls surrounding the complex are incredibly thick. It boggles the mind just to think of how much effort was involved in constructing them (or what it would take for enemies to penetrate them!).

— Heian Jingu, a shrine that deifies two emperors of Japan. Emperor Kammu was ruler of Japan in the late 8th century, when Kyoto was founded and went on to serve as the country's capital for more than 1,000 years. Emperor Komei took over the throne in 1847 and is credited with laying the foundation of modern Japan.


I think the picture at the very top of this blog was taken at the entrance to the shrine complex, but I don't remember for sure now. I was really impressed with the look of this shrine. It was so beautiful. And behind the temple itself was a gorgeous and peaceful Japanese garden.

I enjoyed hopping the rocks to cross the pond.


— Maruyama Park, famous for its beauty during cherry blossom season. The cherry blossoms are gone now, but it was still a relaxing place to wander around in and it had this cool building with a bunch of lanterns.


So those are some of the main sights we saw in Kyoto, though there are numerous other places I'm not detailing here. We also strolled around the massive stone walls of the Imperial Palace but found out we couldn't actually tour it without going to some government office to apply for permission to see it, which we didn't have time to do. We admired several other ornate temples we stumbled across during our long walks all over town (we took the bus a few times but still did a ton of walking). In particular I enjoyed walking along the Philosopher's Path, a pleasant walk dotted with a few charming coffee shops and plenty of trees, some with beautiful wisteria vines clinging to them.

We also stumbled across some geisha or maiko (geisha apprentice), or at least some people dressed up pretending to be them. There was a business in the Gion district charging $300 to get all dressed up and made up like a geisha. So we saw several of them walking around in Gion, but I wasn't sure if any of them were the real deal.


Another pleasant surprise was the bald, hunched monk we saw slowly plodding through the grounds of a temple we passed by. It was just so cool to see him.


So, I enjoyed Kyoto immensely. A fascinating place to explore. And, there were lots of little things to be appreciated, too. The little purple flowers I saw growing all along the sidewalks, the amusing fake stuffed cats in all the souvenir shops, the green tea ice cream stands... this sake (rice wine) vending machine sitting on a street corner just a stone's throw from a playground in a quiet neighborhood.

Suicide in Japan

CNN published an intriguing and depressing story today about a teen suicide in Japan.

It seems that a popular way for Japanese people to off themselves recently is by inhaling toxic fumes in an enclosed space. They mix toilet cleaner or laundry detergent with bath salts to produce deadly hydrogen sulfide gas. The gas, which smells like rotten eggs, is so poisonous that it carries the potential to kill rescuers or sicken neighbors who live nearby.

This isn't the only recent case of suicide using this method. Last week the Mainichi Daily News ran a story about a married couple in their 30s who sealed themselves in their car and killed themselves using this poisonous concoction. It says this is the 27th case of suicide of this kind.

Besides inhaling the fumes from the toilet cleaner/bath salt mixture, another popular method has been carbon monoxide poisoning from burning charcoal inside a car.

My co-workers told me that it's becoming more common to hear about Japanese people making "suicide pacts" with other depressed individuals they meet through Internet chat rooms. They agree to go someplace peaceful in the mountains and kill themselves together. I guess it seems less scary to do the deed if you're not alone. Or maybe it gives you a "friend" to encourage you to go through with it.

Nothing to say. I just find the whole thing thoroughly disturbing.

Cherry Blossoms

I'm a bit late writing about this, but I wanted to share some cherry blossom photos. Cherry blossom season sprang to life around the very end of March, beginning of April, shortly after Joe and I returned from our trip to the states. The blossoms blanketed the city in their faintly pink glory for about a week or two.

It was more than I ever expected it to be. I knew it would be beautiful, but it surpassed my expectations. Really spectacular. I can see why Japan is known for its cherry blossoms. In places with clusters of cherry trees, you just felt like you were gazing into a big cloud of delicate white flowers.

When we visited the Shukkeien Garden downtown, there was one spot where we climbed some stairs that were surrounded by cherry trees. I felt completely enveloped in blossoms. So blissful.


The Japanese celebrate cherry blossom season with "Ohanami," which are cherry blossom viewing excursions. Tons of people head to the parks with their friends, a picnic basket and an arm load of beer and park themselves beneath the many flowering trees. Joe and I went to Iwakuni with some other JET friends to have a picnic by the Kintai Kyo bridge (the hilly bridge I wrote about in January). It has a reputation as one of the best places in Japan for cherry blossom viewing.


We had a fantastic time. It was crowded, but not unpleasantly so. Lots of people brought along their cute little dogs, so I always had some cute ball of fluff to coo over, too.

There was also this poor monkey on a leash, but he was more sad than cute.


A crowd had gathered around this stage where a guy made him do tricks. While I watched, he threw out a handful of coins and after a couple minutes of being stubborn the monkey finally walked around picking up the money and tossing it into the box. The audience was delighted. I just felt sorry for him. Poor monkey on a leash...

These photos are all Joe's, by the way. Unfortunately, my camera is currently out of commission. The automatic lens cover malfunctioned, so it's in the process of being fixed. I'm not sure how long it will take to get it back. In the meantime, I'll be pilfering Joe's photos for your enjoyment.

I'm back

I'm finally out of hibernation.

Some of you are perhaps wondering what the heck happened to me for the past month. Well, Joe and I went back to America for a visit in mid-March. And it was great, wonderful, really comforting. I've never been so happy to see old Springfield — despite the fact that it rained practically the entire week to the point of flooding.

It was really invigorating to be back home. We got to eat pizza and BBQ ribs and Bob Evans' bacon and plenty of spicy Mexican food. We saw our families and met our baby niece and my brother's new girlfriend for the first time. My cats practically got petted to death. We raided the candy aisle at Kroger and I plunked down cash for so many girl scout cookies that Joe's eyes popped out of his head (almost). I visited old co-workers. Watched a movie on dad's big screen TV. Did a little shopping. Even dropped in at Young's for some cow patty ice cream and a visit to the goat barn.

All in all, it was a really refreshing trip. I can't tell you how good it felt to be surrounded by everything so familiar again. It was such a shock to the system when we arrived in the Detroit airport and, as we waited for our connection to Dayton, I realized I could understand every word of the newscast coming from the TV mounted on the wall. Who ever would have thought the TV news could be so reassuring? Even when it was spewing disturbing clips of Obama's old pastor Jeremiah Wright. It was good to be home.

What I hadn't anticipated about the trip was how homesick I'd feel once we were back in Japan. I never, ever thought I could feel sick for Springfield, with it's bad customer service, shabby houses and littered streets. But I did. We got back here and I felt like for one week I got to have everything I'd been missing for the past seven months, and then suddenly it was all taken away. I was like a bouncy little kid who just dropped her ice cream cone on the sidewalk. It was a bit of a let down to get back to our apartment and return to sleeping on the futon mat on the floor while the memory of my plush bed back home remained so fresh. It really kinda sucked. We were back to hanging up all the laundry on the back porch, back to separating the trash, back to rice and noodles. *sigh*

I've since recovered from this phase. Cherry blossom season has done a lot to help chase the melancholy away. But at any rate, that's why I didn't write for a while. I was just feeling too heart sick to write about the trip.

And like I said, it was a good trip. And though Northwest Airlines did cause a significant amount of aggravation, it at least gave us some good stories to tell.

The trip from Osaka to Detroit to Dayton went smoothly, no problems. In fact, it was better than expected because we managed to get good seats. The seats along the left side of the plane were situated in rows of three, but the rows went down to two seats as the plane tapered toward the back. We got the first row of two seats, with extra space between Joe and the window. So we were able to put our carry-on bags by the window instead of under the seats in front of us, which gave us a little extra room to stretch our legs. That made all the difference for Joe, who at 6-foot-4 usually has his knees jammed into the seat in front of him.

The only real hitch during the flight was Joe's food, but that was his own dumb fault.

See, Joe read an article a while back from a travel writer who advised travelers to request the "Muslim" meal when they book their plane tickets. The airline apparently has to prepare the Muslim meals in a special manner, so when these meals are requested, they're made fresh and supposedly are better than the standard airline cuisine. Joe mumbled something about "goat kabob." Right. So Joe ordered Muslim meals for himself, while I decided to take my chances with the regular food.

Once we were safely in the air over the Pacific Ocean, the wait staff started bringing out dinner. Joe, being so special, was served his Muslim meal first and was rather underwhelmed to discover that his meal was labeled "Muslim/Vegetarian." He peeled off the cover only to discover a bland looking bowl of lentils, beans and rice. MMMMmmmm!! Meanwhile, the stewardess delivered my spicy Korean chicken with sides of sashimi (raw fish) and chocolate cake. Joe's sides, by the way, were mysterious looking gelled cranberry sauce and fish-flavored crackers. I had a good hearty laugh at his expense. That's what he gets for trying to play the system and get special treatment. I am sure the stewardesses had a jolly time making fun of the giant guy who clearly is NOT a vegetarian eating the vegetarian slop.

I did take pity on him and shared half my cake, though. I'm not totally evil.

The joke continued several hours later when breakfast was served. Again, Joe's food came out first. Again, he uncovered the bowl to discover... more lentils and beans and rice with a side of fruit. Then my meal arrived: cheese omelet with sausage and danish and fresh fruit. Delicious! No luck for Joe that time — I ate every bit of it.

Overall, we were quite pleased with the flight to the U.S. and feeling very warm and fuzzy toward Northwest. Well, I was, anyway.

Those warm fuzzies dissolved into stomach acid on the trip back.

We arrived at the Dayton airport two hours ahead of our flight just like good little travelers are supposed to do. We were through security in a flash and sat down to wait for our plane.

When our departure time rolled around, there was still no plane. It was late getting back from wherever it was coming from. We were supposed to have a 1.5 hour layover between flights from the time we landed in Detroit to the time our next flight left for Japan. That time began shrinking perilously the later our plane got. But airline employees assured us over and over and over again not to worry, we would make it. When boarding time finally arrived, they told us we should be OK, we'd have about 20 minutes to make the next flight.

So we boarded the plane. And then sat there. For probably 45 minutes. They sprayed the plane down with de-icer and we sat around forever before finally taking off. By the time we landed in Detroit and exited the plane, our flight to Osaka had already departed.

Annoyed, we got off the plane and started talking to airline people to see about getting transferred onto a different flight. We were told that we'd been automatically rebooked on another plane leaving around 10:30 PM that evening, seven hours later. That flight, we were told, would be headed to Frankfurt, Germany. Then we'd have to catch a connection to Osaka. In other words, we'd be going back to Japan the long way — heading the opposite direction around the globe. After a bit of wrangling with people behind the counter, I was finally able to get an answer about how long this new flight would take: 6 hours to Frankfurt, plus one hour layover, plus 13 hours to Osaka. So, our original 13 hour flight from Detroit had suddenly morphed into a 20-hour journey, starting at a time when our bodies were ready to go to sleep. And neither of us sleeps on planes.

We asked what our other options were. The next plane leaving for Japan was full. There were other planes going to Japan, but they were flying to several other cities first and would get us to Japan no faster than the flight through Frankfurt. No flights were leaving on Sunday (Easter). So the next flight we could take was two days later, on Monday.

That left us with a choice: take the 20 hour flight, or burn two days of vacation stuck in Detroit to take the next direct flight.

I felt ill. Joe said he thought he'd kill himself after having his knees jammed into a seat in front of him in coach for 20 hours. So we opted for the next direct flight two days later while I ground my teeth about the lost vacation — two days of vacation that, if Northwest had been on the ball back in Dayton, we could ultimately have spent with our families at home. We were also losing $200 in train tickets we'd already purchased to take us from Osaka to Hiroshima after our arrival in Japan.

Luckily, the airline agreed to put us up in a hotel and gave us vouchers for food for the next two days. We were directed to the office in baggage claim to request our luggage back.

So we went to this office and got in line. This is the office where travelers get sent to retrieve lost luggage. A man at the counter was holding part of a baby carrier and yelling angrily at a lady behind the counter. He kept asking her to make a phone call somewhere to check something for him. He was raving something about having a baby and all the baby's formula is in the lost baggage. She kept saying it was against policy to make this phone call. Every time she repeated this, the man became more incensed, really working himself up into a froth. Finally, the woman behind the counter declared she didn't have to talk to him anymore. The next customer stepped up. Voices began rising again. And so on and so on until Joe and I declared the office the "Vortex of Suck."

When it was finally our turn at the counter, Joe made an extra effort to be sweet and polite with our clerk, figuring you catch more flies with honey than vinegar. She never cracked a smile, never laughed at his jokes. I think the people in this office have done something seriously wrong at work to get assigned to this job. The lady asked us questions about what our baggage looked like and then told us she would make a "request" to return our luggage, but it was only a "request." (Meaning, maybe you'll get it. And maybe you won't. Insert maniacal laughter here.) Go wait by baggage carousel number 3, she said, and it would be out in anywhere from a half hour to two hours. Two hours? Ugh!

Joe and I went and sat by carousel Number 3. After perhaps two minutes, it stopped moving. And it remained still for a long time.

It was 5 p.m. when we started waiting. We were hungry. We looked at our dinner vouchers. $13 a piece for dinner. Not bad. We look around. There are no eateries anywhere in the baggage claim area. The only way to get to the restaurants would be back though security — and we no longer had valid boarding passes since we wouldn't get them until we came back to the airport in another two days. There was a coffee shop with a few uninspiring looking danishes. I wanted a real dinner after all this, goddammit! Not a danish.

We continued to wait. An hour and a half later, the carousel still was not moving. Joe went to check up on the status of our "request." Different employees were behind the counter. Another lady told him the last lady must have been mistaken. What she should have told us was the wait time is AT LEAST TWO hours. Oh! Haha! Minor mistake!

He came back and delivered the bad news to me. I greeted the news with a burst of profanity before resigning myself back into my seat for more waiting. I commiserated about our bad luck with the middle-aged guy sitting nearby who'd been staring at the same carousels since we arrived. A miserable looking Chinese woman was leaning on his shoulder. He told me she'd flown 18 hours from China and her baggage was lost. They'd been waiting for four hours already. She spoke almost no English. He spoke no Chinese. He said they were getting married in April. Mail order bride, huh. Weird. That's one of those things you always hear about but you never meet anyone who does it.

We continue waiting. At the 2.5-hour mark, Joe went back to check on the baggage request again. A third employee told him she's sorry, the last lady made a mistake. What she should have told us is the wait is AT LEAST FOUR hours. This lady at least knew enough to explain that the delay was due to a couple hundred flights getting canceled the day before. Employees usually assigned to get back luggage for people like us had been directed to sort out the luggage mess from the previous day.

By this time, I was angry enough to throw something through the window. Now I understood why the other people were screaming at the ladies behind the counter.

After three hours of waiting, the carousel started creaking along again. We were relieved to see our luggage finally come around. Joe was delirious with joy. He had been afraid our baggage would disappear and be sent off to Frankfurt or elsewhere in Never-never-land.

Off we went in the shuttle to the hotel, where we were quite pleased with our room. By 9 p.m., we were sitting down in the hotel restaurant. I ate something light because my stomach was feeling a bit acidic by then, but I had my eye on the steak for dinner the following day.

The next morning we woke up and wondered what to do with ourselves. The Detroit Zoo sounded fun, or maybe the science museum. But they were many miles away and would have meant renting a car, and we decided we didn't want to go that bad. So we headed back down to the restaurant for breakfast. It was closed all day for Easter. No steak for me!

We quickly discovered that all food establishments that delivered to the hotel also were closed. That left us with the eateries within walking distance: McDonald's, Big Boy and a Middle Eastern joint. Big Boy it was!

Cost of the breakfast bar for two people plus two beverages: $24. Value of our breakfast vouchers: $5 each.

Not to be ungrateful or anything, but... can you even get breakfast at McDonald's for $5 anymore? So we burned through both breakfast vouchers and both lunch vouchers (worth $7) each to pay for breakfast, and the tip came out of our own pocket. Dinner later that day was the Middle Eastern place. It was different. Interesting.

Monday we headed back to the airport to fly back to Japan. When we went to check our luggage and get our boarding passes, we got some good news: the airline placed us in business class! We both jumped up and down like little girls. Last fall when we were planning this trip, I asked a travel agent to price out first class tickets for us. The tickets cost $8,500 A PIECE. Now we were getting them for no extra charge.

Since we had a couple hours to wait until the plane took off, we were allowed to wait in Northwest's "World Perks Lounge," which is the place they let all the first-class travelers hang out in style. My eyes quickly zeroed in on the drinks and snacks I saw everyone carrying around and went on a mission to find all the freebies they were handing out. There were free drinks — coffee drinks, hot chocolate, pop and even wine and liquor — and a range of snacks. I parked myself in front of the TVs playing CNN and slurped on a hot chocolate as a warm up to a couple glasses of wine and cheese and crackers. And veggies and dip. And trail mix. And two snickerdoodle cookies.

Needless to say, I was stuffed and happy by the time we boarded the plane. The first thing the stewardess did was offer to hang my coat and offer me a glass of champagne. I was grinning ear to ear when I saw those luxurious seats with plenty of space in between them. They were the kind with electronic controls so you can adjust the back and prop up your feet if you want. Not quite Lazy Boys, but more like a dentist chair. Heckuva lot better than the poor bastards sitting back in coach.

Then they handed me the menu for the trip. Giddy about our luck, I read off the meals we had to look forward to:

To Start:
Appetizers of smoked salmon on crostini and creamy herbed goat cheese on petite pumpernickel

Dinner:
Salad of mixed greens with mini pears, dried cranberries, crumbled blue cheese and toasted slivered almonds with a skewer of Asian grilled shrimp offered a la carte
Assorted breads

Choice of

Peppered beef tenderloin with balsamic glaze, roasted red potato, carrots and patty pan squash

Mushroom and spinach stuffed chicken with herb risotto and broccolini

Potato crusted steelhead salmon on lemon beurre blanc sauce, wild and white rice with cranberries and haricot vert

Dessert:
Fresh fruit
Krystal Pure aged cheddar and ash aged Camembert
Lady finger charlotte filled with wild berries and raspberry mousse
Port wine
Liqueurs
Coffee or a selection of Stash Tea
Lily O'Brien's Chocolates

Mid-Flight snack:
Ramen noodles, smoked turkey sandwich with melted Swiss cheese or crudites and dip

On Arrival:
Fresh fruit and warmed breads

Choice of

Cheddar cheese and bacon omelet, roasted potatoes and pork sausage links

Cold cereal and fruit yogurt

Cold plate of Asian glazed New York strip steak, chardonnay salmon, citrus cous cous and green and yellow bean salad

Coffee or a selection of Stash Tea

I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. I sat in my seat reading the menu off to Joe, stumbling over the stuff that's supposed to be so gourmet I don't know how to pronounce it. I settled on the beef tenderloin, and started playing with my seat, my blanket and pillow, my slippers, my eye mask and the personal TV attached to my chair. Yes, each chair had it's own TV screen with movies on demand.

An older steward sauntered over and leaned down to Joe, who was sitting in the aisle seat. "Sir," he said with a delightful flaming inflection, "You ordered the Muslim meal?"

Joe confirmed and felt obligated to explain that he's not Muslim, but he did indeed order the Muslim meal because he thought it would be better.

"Well," the steward replied, "We did plan the Muslim meal for you, so you'll have to have that."

I began laughing hysterically. The steward offered the chagrined Joe his meal instead, but Joe politely turned it down. He made his bed, now he had to lay in it.

Over the next 13 hours, while I feasted on beef tenderloin and lady finger charlotte filled with wild berries and raspberry mousse, Joe was faced with his Muslim meal yet again. This time it appeared to be a little fancier... lentils and beans and rice. When the stewardess delivered it to him the first time, she assured him that it actually wasn't that bad, it was better than it looked.

The beef tenderloin, by the way, was superb.

Honestly, though, I'd stuffed myself so silly in the Wold Perks Lounge that I ended up giving half my food to Joe anyway through most of the trip. So he didn't really suffer so much.

Joe and I watched Juno together on our TVs. The wait staff kissed ass like real pros. There were free snacks on a little island in the middle of the business class section, and occasionally they'd bring them around and offer them to us. The snacks included full size Dove chocolate bars.

We arrived back in Osaka without incident and proceeded to retrieve our bags and purchase new train tickets for the 2.5 hour train ride home. It was 11 p.m. when we got back to our apartment.

So the trip was bittersweet. Two lost days of vacation and two bullet train tickets down the toilet, but a very pleasant ride back home and a great story to tell.

Now, my only task is to write Northwest a somewhat brusque letter complaining that while business class treatment was nice, it doesn't do anything to replace the $800 we lost when you add up two lost days of vacation and the train tickets. Maybe we can get a credit toward our next flight. I figure it can't hurt to ask.