"Traveling Man"
I found the book “Traveling Man – The Journey of Ibn Battuta, 1325-1354” (written, illustrated, and illuminated by James Rumford, 2001) last Friday. As a little girl growing up in a small city in eastern part of Java Island, I was very familiar with the name. My very own father was a great admirer of Ibn Battuta and he usually spent long hours telling us the story of Battuta’s journey around the world.
The book captured my heart as soon as I saw it on the bookshelves of a tiny bookstore in Donald’s office building. Thinking about how my siblings and I were always hypnotized by father’s storytelling on Ibn Battuta, I decided to buy it and send it someday to my niece. I hope she will enjoy learning about Battuta’s journey, as much as her mother, aunt and uncles enjoyed it when we were her age.
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Elok Halimah
“Please put a “ku” at the end of it, Sir. It’s EROKU, not ERO.”
Many of us know that many Japanese have hard time in pronouncing “L” correctly, as they don’t have this letter in their three characters; Hiragana, Katakana, or Kanji. As the personal consequence I must bear, my name is pronounced “EROKU”, quiet faraway from how my parents wanted me to be called.
My parents didn’t choose the name for no reasons. ELOK means “pretty, beautiful” in Malay language (Go ahead! Feel free to laugh!). But if it becomes ERO, as how it will if Japanese don’t put a “KU” at the end of it, the meaning becomes something quiet raunchy. There, I believe you know what I mean! If you still don’t get it, try to say it out loud a few times.
And if you still don ‘t get it, here is one hint. The word is imported from English and that’s what teenagers usually would say if they saw a movie scene when the hero and heroin start kissing.
Takoyaki
When people think of Japanese food, they invariably think of Sushi. Not me. I am not a sushi fan! I like Aburizushi, which is another way of saying yakizushi, but I am getting ahead of myself.
I dine out for sushi very rarely, mostly when I have to take care of some friends who visit Japan. I can eat sushi when I have to, but if I was put in one room for a week with only two kinds of food, sushi or noodles, I would undoubtedly go for the latter. I enjoy Japanese cuisine, but my passion is never for sushi. I love something else.
My greatest love is for “yaki foods”. All kinds of it! The one with yaki as the beginning of its name, such as yakitori (grilled chicken), yakisoba (fried noodles), or yakiniku (grilled meat, usually beef). Also the one with yaki as the ending of its name, such as teppanyaki, okonomiyaki (vegetable pancakes), monjayaki (thin vegetable pancakes), taiyaki (Japanese sweets made in a sea bream shape), and takoyaki (grilled octopus dumplings).
"One corner of Hokkaido University, in front of Dr. Clark's statue. Takeo always loved Hokkaido and finished his first degree here."
I was going through some old books and papers yesterday. Not looking for something in particular, just trying to get rid of things I don’t need anymore. After a few minutes, my eyes found something special. Papers filled with my handwritting in a peculiar file. It’s my Kanji’s practice book when I was preparing myself for the entrance exam at the Graduate School of Area & Culture Studies, Tokyo University of Foreign Studies.
It brought back many memories.
It was never easy for me to get accepted in a Japanese graduate school to do a research on Japanese literature during the Taisho period (1912-1926).
It was a sunny afternoon and I was walking slowly through the narrow yet elegant street towards the cinema building. I had been listening to so many positive reviews on “Slumdog Millionaire” and was happy that finally I would soon be watching it by myself. The day before, I also went to the same cinema, to make sure that the movie would be in English, not dubbed in French.
Standing at the ticket window, I smiled at the staff whose eyes were so beautifully big. “One ticket for Slumdog Millionaire, please.” “Are you a student?” “No.” “Are you under 26 year old?” “Pardon me?”
It was my first day of work at a Japanese firm. All new hire from my department was invited by our president to attend a welcome luncheon held at a Western restaurant nearby our office complex. Fresh from graduate school with no experience at a totally Japanese company, I didn’t quite understand about its strictness of hierarchy system. Of course I had heard a lot of it, but I wasn’t aware that once I joined the company, I have to eliminate my impatience attitude to the zero level.
"This one is definitely cheaper than steak. Unfortunately, it was not on the menu."
It was an a la carte luncheon. As the president couldn’t make up his mind right away, he politely offered us to go ahead first with our orders. None of us did. I was still debating, steak or Japanese fish lunch set. The steak looked dangerously tempting. But I was in the middle of my effort, which is now still an unsuccessful one, to switch my status from meat lover to fish eater.
