Interesting Tidbits: A Lesson on Diet

If I look this happy it's got to be deliberate.

Hey, don't judge. There's lots you can learn in a children's science museum. Ken and I mostly went in here for shits and giggles. You can get in for free, since this place is government funded so that Japanese children don't end up fat and stupid. Well done, Japan. A certain few other countries could profit from such initiative.
 For the most part, the museum in Fukuoka is dedicated to health and to simple sciences, but what I wanted to share was what I thought was relevant to Japanese culture.

 I thought this was pretty neat: the place has a cafeteria where all the food is made of plastic. Basically, you grab a tray, put a bunch of food on it that you would likely get, and head to one of the dedicated computers. There, it tells you about your meal: if it had an excessive amount of calories for your size and age, if it was well balanced, contained the appropriate amount of meat, vegetables, and so on. Here, let's try!

Shit, at least I was being honest.

 Uh-oh. "Well, see, Sean," this computer tells me, "your shitty choice of food is too rich in meat and is terribly fattening." With that kind of result, it's a surprise I haven't gained a kilo since arriving here. Well, it's a good thing I spend so much time jumping around both inside of work and out.

Oh my God, no soft drink?

See, Ken's meal has a bunch more items on it, but is actually very typically Japanese. It looks like something you'd get out of a teishyoku (set meal) in a Japanese restaurant. And the results actually show that this kind of meal is actually conducive to losing weight.
 If you take a good look around you while standing in any crowded place in Japan, you notice a considerable difference in terms of the number of overweight people. There's approximately five times less obesity here that in Canada. Eureka! Could it be possible that burning more calories than you eat might make you lose weight? Shiiiit.

Kyushu Flavors

As I've mentioned in a previous post, the Kyushu region of Japan, Fukuoka being no exception, has a food culture that is in a few ways different than that of Tokyo, despite both being built upon the same crucible that makes Japanese food identifiable for what it is. Here are five notable things I ate in Kyushu, with the fifth being the glorious highlight. Of course, if the pictures are too small, keep in mind you can click to make the whole thing bigger.

Taiyaki
 Taiyaki literally means "baked sea bream," but it's not quite that. It's actually simply regular waffle batter cooked into a fish shape. The inside is filled with one of a variety of pastes, most commonly red bean paste. This shop claimed to have the best Taiyaki in Japan. It was...quite okay. I guess.


Seafood Barbeque 
 Fukuoka in particular has great access to seafood, allowing places like this one to make a killing in terms of profit. Hell, they don't even need to hire cooks, you just put the damn food on the grill yourself and light that shit up. They do offer lots when it comes to different types of seafood, though, and the prices are very affordable when it comes to shellfish.


Sushi
 Of course a surplus in seafood also means abundant access to affordable yet delicious sushi. Ken himself claims that Tokyo's quality in sushi (except for the ludicrously expensive places) doesn't compare at all to that of Fukuoka. Though I'm no expert in sushi, I can say that the one place I did eat sushi in in Fukuoka was quite nice indeed.


 Ramen
 Each of Japan's prefectures has its different take on the classic meal. Fukuoka's Hakata ramen has a particularly rich and flavorful pork soup, counterbalanced by very thin noodles. It's probably my favorite kind of ramen, and although you can find it in Tokyo, it's nowhere near as rich as that of its progenitor. 


And, alright, here's the kicker. This really ain't for the faint of heart. Click on the video to play.

Live Sashimi (Iketzukuri)

 So basically, they gut this horse mackerel live and cut it into pieces. The fish's vital organs are left intact, so it's effectively served alive, taking some seven or so minutes before fully dying. 

 It's...somewhat interesting seeing your meal stare back at you as you're eating a piece of it, but I guess fish have no feelings to begin with. Live sashimi is really something that can't be done very far from a coastal area, so Fukuoka's teaming with places where this is available. If you've ever had sashimi...well...this is the same damn thing, except, well, alive.

Mr Tanaka's Fishing Hour

Happy New Year, folks. I'm actually back in Tokyo, but I do have lots to share about what I've done during my trip down in the Kyushu area. There'll probably be a small burst of posts within a short amount of time, so heads up!

Mr Tanaka and I.

If I've learned one thing about Ken's father, Mr Tanaka, in the past week, it's that he's pretty passionate when it comes to fishing. The guy's got a whole room serving as a dedicated "fishing closet" and fishing poles tied to the top of his car. "Take us with you some time," Ken had offered one day, and he took us up on that and brought us along.
 "We're going minnow fishing. It's not difficult, nor is it easy, so it's just the right level for you guys," he had said as we were driving.
Mr Tanaka then explained to me how, although it isn't common practice to fish for such small species in America, it is relatively common practice in Japan. Of course, the way to do it is very different, requiring adapted bait and equipment.
He then brought us to what appeared to be a ditch on the side of the road. The weather was colder than what I had come to expect, and it wasn't long before my hands were shaking and red.

"That looks like the bait," you would say.

"This is how you can see if you're a true ninja," Mr Tanaka said, beaming. "A real ninja can resist the cold for a very long time." He laughed as he cast. Holding that thought into consideration, Mr Tanaka is probably a much better ninja than I.
 It was only thirty-five or so minutes in that I heard him excitedly shout "bite! Pull it out!" I didn't even notice at all. See, when a minnow takes your bait, you don't really get very strong feedback. But he had noticed the tiny ripple around my bobber.
 Sure as hell, I pulled my line out and had a minnow.
 "It's a miracle!" Tanaka beamed. "You are a true ninja!"
 Mr Tanaka, within the next thirty or so minutes, then proceeded to catch four of them himself. We returned home and put them inside a small fish tank. That, ladies and gentlemen, is the story of how I became a True Ninja, capital letters and all, complete with running nose and frozen hands.

Ninjamura

The approach, through the thick woods.

Until 8 or some years ago, Ninjamura was a small local attraction situated atop a forested hill in Fukuoka. As children, some of Ken's friends used to visit the place, and recall a time when they went to the "Ninja House" for a thrill and got spooked by men dressed as ninjas, popping out of walls and trap doors. However, as the years passed, Ninjamura saw a decrease in profits, presumably, and shut its doors to the public. The site of the ninja-themed haunted house was never re-bought, and no one bothered to demolish it. Tonight, Ken and I and some local friends Tatsumi and Kento, have stepped through the gates to Ninjamura once more, for the sake of adventure and nostalgia both.

Notice the pile behind me.

Walking through the forest to reach the first abandoned house, I quickly realize how fast nature had retaken Ninjamura. The wooden bridges crossing through the crevasses and pits in the forested floor have long begun to rot, providing poor footing as we struggle to walk while holding onto our cheap LED flashlights.

 But as we are brought deeper into the forest, we begin to notice the ill-hidden mannequins littering the place. It isn't long before we start finding discarded limbs left and right. Some even hang above our head, pinned to trees for reasons we don't know. Soon, we even came upon a pile of the mannequins, many of them appearing to have blood painted on to them. Not too far up ahead, is our first actual stop - the abandoned haunted house itself. Does that make it twice haunted?

The maze beneath the house.

Of course, the place being long deserted, we found the elements that figure in every Haikyo, (abandoned places, as they call them in Japan,) these being graffiti, litter, and wreckage scattered around the ground.

 But soon, too, did we quickly discover (or in the case of my companions, rediscover) the intricacies of the place, once suited for scaring the shit out of children. Rooms that appear to be small, empty closets reveal themselves to be equipped with hidden doors - those famous, stereotypical reversing walls that flip around to reveal a way into a different room. My companions knew of several of these already, but each discovery brought to me a gleeful satisfaction as I kicked at walls that turned out to be doors.

 These aside, we also found a ladder with access to the attic, as well as an intentionally labyrinthine passageway beneath the house itself, forcing us to hunch over to find a way leading to the next room. We stuck around long enough to get a good look at all of the rooms, many as they were, before we headed back out and towards the next curiosity.

It was only on our way out of Ninjamura that we stumbled upon what once was an illusion-themed house with an inclined floor. The considerable angle of the ground, near 30 or so degrees, gave the impression that someone standing straight was slanted at a seemingly gravity-defying angle. Of course, this place being similarly abandoned, we allowed ourselves to experiment hanging from beams and jumping around as well.

And thus ended our brief visit of Ninjamura! Man, I've been doing quite a bit of Haikyo lately, huh.

Fukuoka: An Overview

After a 14-hour bus ride where I had the embarrassing misfortune of waking up using a fat man's arm as a pillow, I awoke in a new prefecture: that of Kyushu, the southernmost landmass in Japan. My destination is the city of Fukuoka, where I've come to join Ken (who, having left Tokyo a week prior, has been noticeably absent from my latest adventures.)
 Without going much into detail about specific attractions (I'll delve into that later) let's look at the city from a glance.

The local urban landmark; Fukuoka Tower

Fukuoka is defined as a coastal city with a population of 1.4 million; that's several times less than that of Tokyo, and falls just a little short of that of Montreal, my own home town. Whereas Tokyo is a massive metropolitan sprawl of a city, and Kyoto is identified by its remarkable preservation of yonder days of centuries past, Fukuoka has more of a friendly, livable feel to it, combining facets of the island culture of Kyushu with its modern tone and ample green spaces. The sky rises here don't intimidate, and yet the skyline has ample definition.

Canal City shopping center

Fukuoka being very coastal, a lot of the city's internal architecture plays on the presence of water, streams and rivers. The prevalence of these almost feel like a theme, while also playing a large role in the local diet. Ken's father himself is an avid fisherman, who I may or may not have a chance to go fishing with during my brief stay.

My first day in town had me dodging through the streets of the city's busiest districts, while taking brief looks at a shopping center here and the large local park there, interspersed with a temple and what's left of an ancient castle in the middle of the town.

What lies in wait for me in Fukuoka is a food culture that is different than that of Tokyo, and many (including Ken) would argue, a lot better, as well as a small plethora of discoveries. By the time I'm out of here I would have taken you through at least the local children's science museum, a haunted ninja-themed house (not to be mistaken for a ninja-themed haunted house), and New Year's at a local temple. If I can, I'll also try a special local dish that definitely isn't for the squeamish. If they'll tag along, maybe you'll meet one or both of Ken's sisters along the way, but this will determine that.
Discovery awaits!