complex flavours

I have been watching the January Sumo Tournament on NHK online this month and it has been entertaining. Sumo is another in the long list of uniquely Japanese things that we experienced and absorbed during our stay there. It is interesting to recall how things that are initially so foreign became accepted and integrated into our lives so swiftly. Kanji, for example, we learnt to read much of it from repeated exposure to shop signs, road signs and train station markings. It was a necessity to learn in order to function more efficiently. The foreign became familiar. And, eventually, no longer foreign at all but normal, standard. We transitioned from being visitors to residents, integrating the new surroundings and customs wholeheartedly. Of course, we would always be guests of the country and never even close to becoming Japanese (an impossibility) but we definitely were able to identify with our new flock and hang with them smoothly and comfortably through learning and utilising the language and customs appropriately.

Although I knew to say that I was Australian, I actually did not know what that meant. When we first arrived in Tokyo, I would have had a noticeable Aussie accent but over the years it became more neutral, internationalised. Kids are chameleons and adapt to their surroundings. My class at school had students from twenty five different countries, so accents varied greatly and one became adept at assimilating a huge variety of sonic interpretations and pronunciations. This in effect influenced one’s own verbal presentation.

Although my Japanese was limited, one way or another I could express myself clearly in any situation. If I didn’t understand something I would just politely ask. My accent and use of colloquialisms became good enough that I could talk on the phone and the listener would not know I was a gaijin. (Which was fun sometimes.)

Having said that, watching the sumo and seeing all the faces of the viewers in the crowd, I realised last night how decidedly non-Japanese I am. In my childhood and teen years, early twenties, I felt like I was smoothly integrated into the society and I was but there is a huge gap between hanging with a group and being a full member. I freeze framed the crowd and looked at the faces - many approximately my current age - and could suddenly, clearly see and feel how different we are and how far our lives had diverged over the decades. We are products of our environment and lifestyles. I was taken at a young age and dipped into the exotic sauce of Japanese life and culture, I was engulfed in it. Much of the flavour I absorbed. But over the years, without subsequent engagements (more dips), I have become a different flavour - a hybrid mix. Not sure why I am referring to myself as a food but you get the picture, I hope.

I wrote this book to try and investigate the early cooking stages, decipher some of the ingredients and how they blended to create the flavours found in the dish as it exists today. An unusual stew, for certain.