Month: January 2011

Return to Osaka

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We first visited Osaka, the second largest city in Japan, in 2005 when our son and daughter-in-law lived here. Robin planned a busy and exciting itinerary for us. Looking back, it’s amazing how much we managed to fit into the nine days that we were here. In addition to seeing many of the sights of Osaka itself, we travelled to Kyoto, Nara, Kobe, Himeji, Hiroshima and Miyajima. We saw castles, temples, shrines and palaces. We tried all sorts of interesting foods and I fell in love with Japanese gardens.

This visit has been entirely different. While living in Funabashi and attending Hope Church, we met Joel and Kelly who were preparing to plant a church here in Osaka. We’ve been staying in their home for the past few days and yesterday we attended Life Church with them. What a joy to see what God has been doing here! In less than two years, the church has outgrown its first venue and, with an average attendance of approximately 50 people, the second is bursting at the seams!

Sharing our visit with Joel’s parents who are also here for a couple of days has been an unexpected pleasure. Leo and Phyllis Kaylor came to Japan as missionaries 60 years ago. Settling on the southern island of Kyushu, they have devoted their lives to God’s work in Japan. Three of their sons now pastor churches in this country.

We’ve been enjoying wonderful meals together, having fun times with the three Kaylor kids and engaging in many great discussions. Last night, we were introduced to yaki niku. Gathered around tabletop braziers in a tiny crowded restaurant, we cooked and ate a variety of meats and vegetables. I was amazed to discover that my favourite part of the meal was the paper thin slices of beef tongue! Right now, Richard is taking part in another Japanese tradition. He’s at the public bath with the men of the family.

This afternoon, our return to Osaka overlapped with our previous visit for the first time when we went to Todai-Ji temple in Nara. After walking amongst some of the thousands of tame deer that inhabit the park surrounding the temple, we entered Daibutsu-den Hall, the largest wooden building in the world. The Daibutsu (Great Buddha) housed within is one of the largest bronze figures in the world, cast in 746 AD. Standing just over 16 m high, it’s made of 437 tonnes of bronze and 130 kg of gold. It’s impossible to really capture the size in a photo but to give you an idea, there’s a wooden pillar in the temple with a hole through it that is the same size as one of the Daibutsu’s nostrils. Today we watched a grown man squeeze through it!

 

Daibutsu-den Hall

Deja vu

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We’re on our way to Japan again! Tonight we’re snuggled into the same hotel that we stayed in three years ago the night before our year long adventure began. This time, though, there’s wireless internet in our room so I don’t have to hang out in the lobby and wait for my turn to use the one public computer!

Tomorrow will be a very long day. We have a wake up call scheduled for 6:15 a.m. and the airport shuttle picks us up at 7:25. Chances are we’ll run into my sister and her oldest son at the airport. Believe it or not, they’re flying to Vancouver at exactly the same time as we are but on a different plane and different airline! When we reserved our flights, neither of us had any idea that the other was doing the same!

We have a 3 hour layover in Vancouver so our daughter-in-law, Robin, and grandson, Sam, are meeting us at the airport for lunch! Then it’s onto another plane for the ten and a half hour flight to Tokyo. By the time we touch down, we’ll have been awake for over 20 hours unless we manage to get some sleep on the plane which I don’t usually do. Unlike last time when we had to find our way by train, however, we’re being picked up at the airport this time. Thank you, Shelley! You’re such a blessing!

Our travels won’t be over when we arrive in Tokyo though. After spending the night with Pastors Steve and Shelley in the house that Richard helped build (more about that in a later post), we’ll head to the other Tokyo airport for the short domestic flight to Osaka where we’ll be spending a few days with Steve’s brother, Joel, and his family. They were part of Hope Church while we were there but shortly after we returned to Canada, they moved to Osaka to plant a church there.

Once again, I hope to use the blog to share our adventures with friends, family and anyone else who’s interested so I hope you’ll follow along! For now though, I’m tired just thinking about what tomorrow holds so I’d better get some shut eye!

Like a gold ring in a pig’s snout

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I’ve always found names and their meanings fascinating. While doing my devotions and reading in the book of Isaiah yesterday, I came across an intriguing one. Tucked in the middle of Isaiah 62:4 is the phrase “you will be called Hephzibah”. I’m not a Hebrew scholar so I was delighted to discover a footnote that gave the name’s meaning. Hephzibah means my delight is in her. I realize that the prophet, Isaiah, was referring to the city of Jerusalem when he penned those words but I began to wonder what kind of woman God might call Hephzibah. What kind of woman would delight God?

That’s when I came across the pig’s snout! Proverbs 11:22 says “Like a gold ring in a pig’s snout is a beautiful woman who shows no discretion.” Whoa! Now that’s a very non Hephzibah image; a woman whose God given inner beauty is wasted like that of pure gold rooting in the mud!

Next I had to pull out my trusty dictionary to find out exactly what discretion means: using or showing good judgement, wise, sensible. Apparently that’s the kind of woman that God delights in. Does that mean that she has to be staid and steady all the time, that we can’t have any fun in life? Absolutely not! After all, a God who would include a gold ring in a pig’s snout in his Word must have a sense of humour. But, I ask myself one more question; am I living my life in such a way that God could call me Hephzibah?

Do you know anyone who is a Hephzibah kind of woman?

Walking in snow

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I’ve always loved walking in fresh fallen snow but these days, with four wheel drive and good winter tires, it’s actually easier and safer to drive. With the latest deposit of loose snow underfoot, walking can be quite treacherous and in those areas of town where there are no sidewalks and the snow has piled up along the roadsides, it’s difficult to get out of the way of vehicles.

A couple of weeks ago while trudging through several inches of loose snow, I twisted or wrenched something in my right hip. I didn’t realize that I’d actually done any damage until later in the day when the muscles in my thigh began to spasm. OUCH! That was nasty! Fortunately, heat and ibuprofen settled things down but the experience definitely slowed me down for awhile and has kept me from attempting any more walking in snow. It seems silly to start the vehicle to make a quick trip to the library or the post office or to go to the church which is only a quarter mile away but these legs have got to be in good shape when we arrive in Japan next week so I’m not taking any chances!

After challenging myself to walk 100 miles and accomplishing that goal a little over a month ago, my body has become accustomed to doing a lot of walking! My usual pace on the treadmill is 3.7 mph but for awhile after hurting my hip I could only manage short stints at about 3.0 mph. Total rest might have been a better idea but my body wanted to walk and as long as I didn’t make any twisting motions, it seemed to be okay. Happily, I’m back to pain free and full speed but the snow is still falling so, as pretty as it is outdoors these days, all my walking will be on the treadmill.

For those who might be wondering, I’m up to 141 miles now (227 km) and I’ll be wearing a pedometer in Japan so I can continue to keep track!

Shoes, shoes, shoes

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If you’ve been reading my blog for very long, you probably saw my post about making baby shoes back in October. As I predicted back then, the first pair which I made for my granddaughter, Jami-Lee, definitely wasn’t the last. Before that pair had even been delivered to Calgary, Buck and Chrissy came to visit and, of course, I had to make a pair for their wee daughter, Joanna.

Jami-Lee's

JoJo's

I gave the  next pair, the tiniest ones that I’ve made so far, to our son and daughter-in-law for Christmas. They’re expecting their second son in February.

These two pairs, made today, are going to Japan with us. They’re for two of the newest members of the Hope Church family, both born to friends of ours in recent months.

With the exception of Jami-Lee’s, all these little shoes have been made of recycled fabric. After all, most worn out blue jeans still have lots of usable fabric in them. Even the straps on the last two pairs are recycled. In their former life, they were the handles on a little shopping bag! I don’t remember for sure but I think it came from La Senza.

Going back or going home?

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When we went to Japan to teach English for a year, I didn’t give much thought to the fact that that would be long enough to establish some very meaningful relationships. At that point, even though we’d visited once before, to us Japan was still a mysterious country with a long history and a fascinating culture to be explored.

Now, as we prepare for a return visit, it’s all about the people! It’s about the friends that we made, the church family that we became  so much a part of and the two little boys who call us Grandma and Grandpa.

Sure there are places that we look forward to seeing again and some that we haven’t been to yet. Since we won’t be working this time, we’ll definitely have time to do some more exploring and to soak in a little more of the culture but those are no longer our main reasons for going.

Canada is still our home and probably always will be but as I look forward to going back, I’m surprised to find that it feels a lot like going home!

Digging out

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There’s something about weathering a winter snowstorm together that brings an enhanced sense of camaraderie to our small town. Yesterday, we had one of the biggest dumps of snow that we’ve seen in a long time. For twenty-four hours, the wind blew and the snow fell; some 30 centimetres or more of it.

Views from our back door:

The town owns three pieces of snow removal equipment. Ordinarily, the grader ploughs the snow into the centre of the street where it’s picked up by a giant snow blowing machine that loads it into the back of a truck that carries it away and dumps it in one of several designated locations. It’s an efficient process and our streets are often in better winter driving condition than those in the larger cities. Unfortunately, however, this time the town foreman, who is also the only grader operator, is away in Saskatchewan and the truck that usually hauls the snow away broke down! One of the town employees was out with the snow blowing machine earlier today doing his best to make the main streets passable but without four wheel drive or good winter tires, getting around town is pretty difficult. Everyone seems to be taking that in stride, however. In fact, there’s a real sense of adventure out there. A man against the elements feeling seems to prevail and everyone is pulling together to dig out. We even saw one guy trying to clear a street with his snow blower!

The street in front

Richard has done a lot of shovelling both here at home and over at the church but he hasn’t been alone. Yesterday, while we volunteered at the local thrift store (yes, amazingly, people did show up to shop!) a friend with a brand new snow blower cleared our driveway. By this morning, it had filled in again and so after church, Richard was out with the shovel again. Before long, our next door neighbour showed up with his snow blower and helped him finish the job.

Those who live out in the country are completely snowed in and according to the latest road reports, the highway is in poor driving condition. There’s every likelihood that school busses won’t run tomorrow but here in town, we’re digging out!

A new blog in the family!

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There’s a new blog in the family! My daughter, Melaina, started her own today. I hope you’ll take a moment and check out Prattling of a Housewife.

When Melaina was growing up, I thought she was most like her Dad but now that she’s older, with a family of her own, I realize that she’s become more and more like me. It should be no surprise then, that she loves to write and I’m proud to say that she’s good at it. She’s just a couple of courses short of a university degree with a major in English and I’ve had the privilege of editing many of her papers. Now I’m looking forward to reading what she writes of a more personal nature. Of course, I’m also looking forward to more pictures and anecdotes from the lives of two of my grandchildren!

Welcome to the world of blogging, Melaina!

The Vanishing Breed

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I have always loved to write. Even as a student, I was the weird kid in class who liked writing assignments. Long before the advent of the internet and blogging, I tried my hand at freelance writing and had a few short articles published. Recently, I came across one of them. It was written in early 1980 shortly after the birth of my second child. As I read through it, I realized that my daughter could have written it today and so I decided to reprint it here. Melaina, Robin, Chrissy, Seiko, Natalee, Mardell and all the other young moms out there who’ve made the choice to stay at home with your children, this one’s for you!

The Vanishing Breed

Sometimes I feel as though I am a member of a vanishing breed. All around me young women like myself are having babies, finding sitters and returning to work but I have chosen to be a full time housewife and mother. I do not bother trying to fancy up my position by calling myself a homemaker or a domestic engineer because it simply is not a fancy position. I am on call twenty-four hours a day every day. My job offers no sick leave, no holidays, no pay, no prestige and no hope for advancement.

Why, then, have I chosen this way of life? It most definitely was not a matter of necessity. I have a university degree and could be earning a salary equal to my husband’s. If I returned to work I could easily afford to pay a babysitter and could also hire someone to take over some of my household chores. In addition to this, I would also be able to afford some of the luxuries that I am presently doing without.

I do not believe that laziness was the reason for my choice. My days are very full for mine is a demanding job and I have many roles to fill. I am a teacher, a counsellor, a housekeeper, a cook and a laundress. Sometimes I am a seamstress, a hairdresser, a chauffeur, a gardener, a decorator or a first aid worker.

In spite of its drawbacks I chose my career for purely selfish reasons. I feel that it gives me greater personal satisfaction than any other could. I enjoy my children immensely. Certainly they get on my nerves at times but every aspect of their growth and development fascinates me. I have no interest whatsoever in paying someone else to enjoy their childhood while I pursue a career outside the home.

I would be lying if I claimed that I enjoyed housework to the same extent that I enjoy time spent with my children. I do appreciate a clean, comfortable home and find a certain amount of satisfaction in keeping mine that way but I must admit that I do not become as ecstatic as the typical TV housewife over shining floors or sweet smelling laundry. Many times the tedious household chores are left waiting while I read to the children or take them for a walk.

In spite of the fact that sleepless nights and dirty diapers do not seem to compare very favourably with the glamour of the working world, my job does have many advantages. Because I am my own boss and my schedule is very flexible, I have a great deal of freedom that is lacking in most other professions. I am not constantly trying to meet deadlines and am not forced to compete with others. I have only myself and my family to please.

I do not want to imply that my choice would be right for all women but I do resent the fact that those of us who have chosen to be ‘just a housewife’ are often made to feel as though we are simply unambitious and somehow inferior to ‘the working woman’. Perhaps someday, when my children are older, I will return to work but in the meantime I am proud to consider myself a valuable member of society fulfilling an important and satisfying role.

Severe phonological disorder

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When our grandson, Drew, began calling me Am at 15 months of age, it was cute. Endearing, in fact. As time went by, however, and his speech didn’t develop as it ought to, we all became concerned. He’s a bright little boy. At 32 months, he can identify all the upper case letters, knows his colours and shapes, and clearly has a great memory and excellent reasoning skills but his speech is almost unintelligible. Yesterday, we found out why.

Melaina cried when she read the diagnosis; severe phonological disorder. It breaks a mother’s heart to learn that there’s something wrong with her child and the name sounds so harsh. This is really the end of one journey and the beginning of another. The road to diagnosis involved three hearing assessments and a speech assessment as well as lots of careful observation and documentation on Melaina and Aaron’s part. After two inconclusive hearing assessments, Drew passed the third with flying colours eliminating that as a possible cause. An appointment with a speech pathologist in early December led to the final diagnosis.

As in Drew’s case, the cause of phonological disorder is often unknown. Children with the disorder substitute, leave off, or change sounds making their speech difficult or impossible to understand. When Drew talks, he drops the first sound or syllable off almost every word. Dog becomes og, book is ook and so on. Though he’s able to produce all of the sounds,  he can’t get the words to come out whole. That’s because this is essentially a transmission problem. In simple terms, the message isn’t getting from his brain to his mouth correctly.

Fortunately, most children respond well to intervention and so begins the second journey. Melaina and Aaron will attend a parent session sometime in the next few weeks and then speech therapy will begin. It probably won’t be a quick fix but with lots of hard work, we should begin to see progress. We’re hoping that the fact that Drew was diagnosed at such a young age is in his favour.

I can’t wait to hear him call me Gram!