A MAN AND HIS FOOD

I finally finished my Japan letter! Woohoo!

Rivers and Roads

You know how sometimes a vacation can tire you more than normal life? That is the seat we were sitting in, after returning from Japan. I could not wipe the exhausted grin off my face. The family trip to Japan was a monsoon of fun.

It all started with a little jaunt over to the Island of Japan. 2024 is a big year to celebrate my parents since they turned a combined 130 years old and it is their 30th wedding anniversary. So together, we visited the ancestral homeland of my dad.

Our itinerary was loaded from the beginning. We stayed in 5 different places, Tokyo, Kyoto, Osaka, Nago and Naha over the course of 2 weeks. 2 hotels, 1 house, 1 ryokan, and 1 resort. That’s a lot of moving. But it also gave us a little taste of so many different styles of Japanese hospitality and culture.

I could list the things we did or the places we went, but I’d rather you ask me for our itinerary later. Instead, I am going to tell you why going to Japan made my dad make much more sense. For background, my dad was born to two Japanese parents in Ohio. His parents had been born in Hawaii and California, while his parents' families had been from Osaka and Okinawa, Japan. My grandparents got married while together in a Japanese internment camp during WWII. Though they spoke little of their heritage, some of the Japanese culture continued to be passed on.

Cut to my dad. During my childhood, he was a type A, particular, and highly expecting person, who was simultaneously loving, boisterous, and driven but work weary and tired. He was always fit but had old sports injuries and budding arthritis that left him unable to play to the level he wished as my brother and I were growing up. There were always DIY home improvement projects going on… he was an architect after all.

At our first stop in Tokyo, I noticed that all the city commuter trains and subways had plush fabric seats instead of the U.S. city subways' hard, plastic, easy-to-clean seats. The people patiently wait their turn… to smash into the trains like sardines, and they collectively move out of the way to let the bottom sardine get out of the can/train. Everyone wore shades of white, black, and navy blue. There were ridges down the middle of every sidewalk that guided and warned those with visual impairments of directions and hazards. The entire population strictly walked on the left side of the sidewalk. It was remarkably clean and organized—exactly how my dad envisioned his ideal household—orderly and each person doing their part. Tokyo, particularly juxtaposed with the culture of American cities, is an example of what a major metropolitan area looks like when everyone sacrifices a bit of individualism for the sake of greater optimization (good?).

The Japanese people place a strong emphasis on family and honor. From a young age, Japanese youth are taught how their actions affect the broader community. There tends to be significant pressure on children to do right by their families to the extent that leads to poor mental health.

When we were in Kyoto, we went on a riverboat ride in the Arashiyama area. The company operating the boats had been trekking the Hozugawa since the 1600s and has a long rich history of transporting lumber and rice before people. Three men were crewing our boat, two older and one younger. The younger man was the son of one of the older men and we soon learned that he was just learning how to crew. His job was to propel the boat forward by pushing off the river bed with a bamboo rod. There were some rapids and narrow chutes along the river that required skill to navigate. Everything was seamless and the young man was working hard. We got to a spot along the river where, for hundreds of years, the boat crewmen had pushed off the same spot in the rocks to the point where there were tidy, bamboo sized holes indented. The father explained to the son where the holes were and then told the rest of us in English about the holes his son was going to try and hit with his bamboo rod. He hit the first one. We cheered. He hit the second one. We cheered again. And then he missed the third. Us riders gave out an “Awww”.

The father looked at us and told us that this was his son’s first time crewing. Normally, this sort of statement leads into some sort of optimistic excuse for the son—saying that he’ll get better, or he did pretty well for his first time, or there is room for improvement. But no. The father told us, “He is very bad”. And then laughed. “He is not good”. And he looked to us as if he was waiting for us to reaffirm that we were disappointed in him for missing his third hole and joke about how bad he was. But the young man was right there still pushing away and listening.

The situation lasted long enough for us in the boat to feel just a twinge of discomfort. But the father was smiling away, paddling the boat. The exchange may have been uncomfortable to us because we are not used to that sort of blunt feedback. It also reflected the expectation that anything besides perfection for the younger man, was bad, was failure.

My dad doesn’t talk much about how he grew up, but knowing him now, a man with high expectations for himself as well as others around him, I picture him as that young man learning to crew the boat. I picture him being subconsciously taught that the goal is perfection. Though that lesson is passively absorbed from the blunt acknowledgment of flaws and few praises, it is easy to see how that might mold the personality of any person. This sort of parental feedback can build resolve to do better next time, but it can also make a person anxious or depressed (because of this, the Japanese family structure is now slowly changing).

It was fascinating to see my dad experience Japanese culture firsthand. He had the joy of a little kid hustling through the busy streets of Tokyo and wandering the quiet streets of Kyoto. He was initially nervous that he would disappoint the locals because he did not know how to speak Japanese, despite looking Japanese. But everyone we met was kind and helpful and his confidence grew as we spent more time in the country. It helped that the Japanese always appeared to show gratitude to everyone (and always took care of each other even if their parenting style was more cut and dry). He began to feel a sense of belonging.

For a Japanese kid who grew up in Ohio after WWII, my dad worked to strike a balance raising my brother and I. He would be quick to point out a cheese wrapper left next to the couch, but also would often tell us how proud of us he was for each small success and for bravely pursuing our passions. Like the Japanese, I do not think that my dad would coddle us. He would tell us if we did something bad, or were wrong. Maybe that was harsh, and maybe that helped us learn. Maybe that was a behavior that was passed down to him from his parents. Yet, he always made it clear that he loved us still and that he would always be there to honor his family.

Things You Didn’t Notice

EATING LIKE THE MILITARY

I knew that the traditional Japanese diet was notably different and healthier than the traditional American diet. What I was not ready for, was learning how much the Japanese diet has changed and how meat-heavy my culinary experience was going to be. Having been on the road for the past few years, we rarely cook meat. The first few days of various chicken parts on skewers, pork ramen, onigiri, steak, and sliced fish made me very rumbly. But I was determined to eat my way through Japan and leave no stone unturned. Much like in other places around the world, as Japanese people become wealthier, their diet tends to include more and more meat. Before 1869, the Japanese rarely ate mammals. But thanks to Western culture and imperialism, it became indicative of being poor to eat primarily vegetables and tofu because there had been a growing cultural association between eating meat and being strong (though we now know that that is not the case). Those who could afford it wanted meat.

I hope you enjoy this entertainingly animated history of Japanese meat culture:

Hot Topic

ACID OCEAN

Japan relies heavily on the ocean to feed its people. The ocean provides. But the vast pool of water operates in the way we know it to because it has a specific pH. Many life forms that live in the ocean have evolved to have calcified shells. Because the ocean is so big it seems unmovable and almost unchanging. But in reality, the ocean and the atmosphere are closely intertwined, which makes sense when you think about how much humidity can be stored in the atmosphere. There is an average of about 55 pounds of water for every square yard of land. Clouds are essentially loose lakes. But just as oxygen can dissolve into our water bodies to keep fish alive, so can carbon dioxide.

The ocean absorbs about 30% of the CO2 released into the atmosphere. As we send more CO2 into the atmosphere, more CO2 enters the ocean. In water, CO2 helps break apart hydrogen from water molecules by forming the intermediary carbonic acid. More carbonic acid means more hydrogen ions rather than H20 molecules and aquatic animals that build calcium carbonate structures (shells, corals) must expend more energy to get rid of the hydrogen ions. This is energy that they need to make strong structures.

Like many coastal communities, Japan relies on shellfish and calcifying sea creatures to build up reefs and protective barriers from storm surges. The value of this ecosystem service provided by oysters alone is between $5500 and $99,000 per hectare per year without counting the value of harvesting. The emissions we put out on land affects the work the ocean is doing to feed and protect us. And we pay for it. We, like the shells of the shellfish, become weaker—more vulnerable—as the ocean becomes more acidic.

We are at a period of time when we greatly rely on highly skilled professionals to research and relay information about the ocean to us average folks who look at the ocean and think “cool… it looks blue… there are so many thing that could kill me in it” (maybe that’s just me). The ocean is a deeply mysterious place, but without it operating as it has in the little window of time in which humans have existed, we would suffer greatly. Check out some of NOAA’s amazing programs and ongoing research. Since funding for research like this largely comes from the government, and those in the government who are given power to fund or defund NOAA are chosen by those who vote (if you live in the U.S. at least)… please, vote. And check in on the ocean every once in a while.

Refresh

• Health: Okinawa, previously deemed a Blue Zone, or a place with an extraordinarily high rate of people living 100+ years, is slowly fading away from that designation. The prevalence of fast food chains on the island has been ever-increasing since the U.S. military, with its 31 bases, has become a strong cultural presence post WWII. But, the more forested northern region, the Yambaru peninsula, is still a stronghold for the rich cultural and natural heritage that made Okinawa a Blue Zone in the first place.

• Household: How does a tiny island deal with the garbage of 125 million people? Watch this video to find out.

• Transportation: The world has been learning a few things from Japan’s trains, but the U.S. is increasingly falling behind.

• Mentality: A society built on strong family honor comes with highs and lows. Those ideals are hard to leave behind when they have been rooted so deep in the history of the island nation.

• Community: Could you make a Maoi (one of the secrets to Okinawan life expectancy)? Find out by reading all the financial inner workings of this unique social group.

Mouthwatering

ASPARAGUS THAT POPS

I went to the grocery store on the hunt for a summer salad. I thought I was going to end up in the watermelon department and then the asparagus caught my eye.

This salad is made from such simple ingredients I was shocked at how delicious it is. The dressing is essentially just lemon juice and Dijon mustard but the basil-y flair just makes it POP.

Ingredients:

• 1 pound asparagus, cut into 1 inch pieces, trim off fibrous ends

• 1 cup grape tomatoes, halved

• 1 ripe avocado, cut into cubes

• 1 cup sliced basil leaves

• ¼ cup olive oil

• 2 teaspoons lemon juice

• 2 teaspoons dijon mustard

• ½ teaspoon sea salt

• ½ teaspoon ground black pepper

I added because why not:

• 2 cans of chickpeas

• 1 head of broccoli, chopped

• More dressing

Game Time

FISHBOWL

Grab yourself some buddies and gather round the bowl. I have fish on the brain and you will too after playing the funniest group charades game in existence.

The above article gives you the basics. But don’t limit yourself to specific categories or just a single word. You could add phrases to the bowl. You could add inside jokes, references to gen alpha slang, some weird dream you had…the list goes on.

Whether using this as a group ice breaker or for a family reunion, the fish won’t let you down.

Thank you for reading this Water Hole letter. Let me know what you think! You can reach out by emailing here. We’ll be back in your inbox two Wednesdays from now. In the meantime, if you enjoyed this, please consider sharing it with your friends and family using this link. If this newsletter was forwarded to you, sign up now. To ensure it reaches your inbox, just add [email protected] as a contact.