Among the times I miss Indonesia, the last three days was the one I miss the most. What I miss is something particular actually. I miss someone to do full body massage followed by kerokan (this the most important) to my super sore body. Nobody do better than my mother.

The weather swings take the toll on me. One day the temperature was 7 degree, the next day 25 degree, then 8 degree and keep on yoyo-ing up and down. Start with sore throat, then headache, thousand sneezes, joints pain, nose block. Japan may has 1001 technology for everything, but my body match the Indonesian traditional approach to heal the cold. A series of kerokan and massage done in an hour, is much more effective compare to the set of five days, three times daily of antibiotic - for me.

Dear friend Nelly who helped with this regime has gone back for good to Indonesia. Dear hubby has no ability, nor heart to do the kerokan on me. It need special technic to do it, or it wont work.

Kerokan is rubbing/scratching your body mostly on the back, using coin or spoon with ointment/balsam as the moisture agent. It painful when it done to your body (a traditional belief said, it even more painful if done by your mother, this relate to the pain she bears when delivering you to this world), but when it is done it will give a relief feeling and heal the cold.

Traditionally, kerokan belief to give the way out for the wind/air trapped in your body that cause the cold.
While some study says, even it is hardly acceptable by western medical science, kerokan stimulate your body and clear the way for blood circulation. Kerokan also give you warmth from the ointment, which give comfort, heal sore muscle and unblock the stuffy nose.

Hubby never happy when seeing my mother do this to me. He said, it is cruel. Other than my body will turned red on the path of the kerokan (leave me to have the tiger mark all over for the next three days), I usually scream and even set tears to bear the pain when my mother  do kerokan on me. It look like someone under torture, only this is the torture that I want, that I need for speedy recovery from the cold.

Oh Mama, I miss you.

PS: I can’t find any English article on kerokan, but  found in Wikipedia,  Gua Sha in China seem fit the description of kerokan, only it use ceramic instead of coin.

T-san, my senior colleague took a day off yesterday. He told me that he went four hours up north to Miharu Town in Fukushima with his wife in a day trip. They went there to celebrate their 27th Wedding Anniversary by seeing a special Cherry Blossom (Sakura) tree, called: Taki Zakura which mean Water Fall Sakura. Taki Zakura well-known not only for its beautiful flower on branches which flow down like the water fall, but also for it endless as the tree’s age is over 1000 years.
He said, "I hope our love will keep on beautiful for 1000 years like Taki Zakura."
How sweet.

Photo credit: Official Website of Miharu Town

T-san, my senior colleague took a day off yesterday. He told me that he went four hours up north to Miharu Town in Fukushima with his wife in a day trip. They went there to celebrate their 27th Wedding Anniversary by seeing a special Cherry Blossom (Sakura) tree, called: Taki Zakura which mean Water Fall Sakura. Taki Zakura well-known not only for its beautiful flower on branches which flow down like the water fall, but also for it endless as the tree’s age is over 1000 years.
He said, "I hope our love will keep on beautiful for 1000 years like Taki Zakura."
How sweet.

Photo credit: Official Website of Miharu Town

T-san, my senior colleague took a day off yesterday. He told me that he went four hours up north to Miharu Town in Fukushima with his wife in a day trip. They went there to celebrate their 27th Wedding Anniversary by seeing a special Cherry Blossom (Sakura) tree, called: Taki Zakura which mean Water Fall Sakura. Taki Zakura well-known not only for its beautiful flower on branches which flow down like the water fall, but also for it endless as the tree’s age is over 1000 years.
He said, "I hope our love will keep on beautiful for 1000 years like Taki Zakura."
How sweet.

Photo credit: Official Website of Miharu Town

In our usual lunch some months back, Akiko told me this story.
Her mom, an active rich lady was having a tea time chat in one of the fancy cafe in Ginza, known as the high level shopping district in Tokyo. Her group of four rich ladies all in their 70s, were chatting here and there while zipping their 2000 yen per cup Earl Grey and Assam served in Givency cup and saucer. Suddenly one of them, who just finished telling a story about her success violinist son and still have a smile remain on her face, stood up elegantly. She then, collapsed. Ambulance was called, but she was out the moment she collapsed. She died. In a fancy restaurant, in a fashionable outfit, surrounded by best friends, having a smile on her face, no pain, peacefully.

Everybody on the lunch table agreed that that is the best way to die. The perfect way to leave this planet. Specially for her, that type of lady.

Then we go around the table:  if you can choose on how you will be taken from your life, what way that will be?

I passed. Not only I never think about it (perhaps, yet), but I also have no right to get it granted.
All in God’s hand.
Just pray it wont be hard.

I told Raisa last night before bed that tomorrow early morning, she got to tell me before she go to toilet for pee. I got to take her urine sample, put in a provided tube and handed to the school health center for the new student check-up today.
But she went straight away to toilet this morning, released the pressure, emptied her full tank. I just some seconds late to get the precious drops. Oh no !

I’ve been carefully follow all the school instruction; rule, what/when to bring, to wear, to do, etc. Try to understand pages of pages of papers. Make sure the girl will not left out in anything as new student at elementary school. Try hard to understand, even lots of new word to learn, and yes, they are all in kanji character, my biggest headache.
I knocked the neighbor’s door, I bugged the secretary, strolled through the dictionary. Now I learnt that tissue paper, which as long as I live in Japan has been called as "tisyu pepaa" in daily conversation, is actually called "chrigami" in proper Japanese language.

Anyway, I got her ready, fed her breakfast with extra lots of milk to fill in the tank in the hope she will get the pee pressure again before going to school. After breakfast, no sign.

I spent ten minutes in the toilet holding the paper cup under her, ready to catch the important 15cc. Nothing came up. I told her to concentrate, close her eyes and tell her body to pee. Nothing came out. She did her best, pushed her stomach, tried to communicate with her bladder to no success.

Ok, wear socks first and brush teeth. Just at the last minutes, try again. Tried so hard. The paper cup remain empty. I  never longing for the yellow liquid that bad.

Hubby dropped her to school and I told him to try again at school’s toilet just before the class started. They did try with no luck.

So Hubby went to the teacher to ask some word in some papers which we didn’t understand and to let him know that we are failed to surrender the sample today.
Some letters to clarify, one of it said that we need to bring something on Friday, means tomorrow morning, only we didn’t know this one kanji, we need to clarify on what this item to bring. We just found out this word last night when it was too late to ask obachan next door.
Then the teacher said the word that give us the lesson of life: "The urine sample".

Morale of the story:
We don’t know. Something seems so bad and desperate today can turn to be a blessing in the future. Keep the faith.

Reading the news about customer complaint of rat fell from ceiling in KFC New York bring back an old memory.

I was having the usual lunch at Wendy’s Landmark Building Jakarta some ten years ago with a good colleague friend, Vina. The place is just so convenient as it located just at our door, the first floor of our office so we kinna regular there. Not sure if the place still exist now.
While enjoying my Baked Potato Cheese and gossiping the world, suddenly something fell from the ceiling just to the right side of my shoulder. It didn’t fell on my shoulder, but a part of it touch my hand. I was surprised and tried to figure out what was that. In a split second, Vina screamed as loud as her throat can pitch, produced a freaky sound that attracted everyone in the restaurant. It was a RAT. A big fat rat, fell from the ceiling, landing successfully on our dining table! Our reflect was to jump out of the table. I am not that kind of girly-gushy-girl who freak out of any type of insect and small animal. But that rat was not at all small, the tail was on my hand and I was in kinna relax mood, not in my girl-scout mood!

Till today, I still feel sorry to what we did next. Instead of filing a strong complaint to the restaurant. We just right away washed our hand (while the Wendy’s people try to chase their pet) and then left. Many people left after us without finished their lunch as the sight of fat Mickey Mouse around in lunch time was not so appetizing.

Why didn’t I file a complaint? Maybe I was not that sharp back in those days. Maybe my customer-expectation was not that high (well, I was not living in Japan where customer is God by then). Maybe just the fact that customer complaint was not that popular there. Or maybe I and Vina were that shocked to think and just want to get rid of the place. Well…

If ever that situation happen in Japan, the restaurant can be closed down right away by the government. The customer can get compensation. I am not into compensation but at least my unfinished potato should be on them. Above all, the place where food and pest kept under the same roof, should not be exist for the sake of customer health.

The only "punishment" Wendy’s got was they lost two regulars. Two very good regulars who has this special magnet to attract others to come and eat at the same place.
What a loss.

Cupid, cupid where are you?
Are you sleeping, lazy, out of town or just ignorance?

How in the last twelve months my good friends’ love knots unbundled?

How S and A separate after their eight years of standing strong?
Against the cultural difference, against the father who never blessed them ? Against the poor and difficult time.
How the beautiful New Zealand life ended in separation?
They look so good together, love always seems on the air.
I am crying for their both cute fruits of love.
The innocent victim of your laziness, Cupid!

How the perfect couple R and N fell a part.
They look so perfect. Sample of the cream in Japan.
Living in rich, fancy job and society.
How good they hide the storm in their faces.
Wearing the smiling face mask, like nothing happened, like a perfect couple.
Can you just at least shot a single arrow to make their acting become real?
I was paralyzed to hear that word. When she said the word "rikkon".

Where are you Cupid when fights started to be a daily menu at J and M’s house?
I know money is always an issue. But come on, love is what all about, isn’t it?
Their baby is too young to hear those screams. Lullaby is all she needs.
You are not too late for this. Please Cupid, please.
Tonight point your arrow toward their home. At the border of Chiba and Tokyo.

Another house longing for you Cupid. M and W never hold each other’s hands anymore.
Do you know that they even give up of the idea of wedding counselor?
Do you know they will fight so bad in the custody battle?
How do you let that happen? You were the one who put them together in the first place.
Please Cupid, wake up.

Be professional. Do your job. We need lots of your arrows.
Two couples fell apart. Another two are falling.
Don’t be late Cupid, hurry up!

She was just a seven month old baby, the day she entered Hoikuen for the first time six years ago. Since then, she has spent every single weekday there. That place like a home. The sensei and friends are like family for her. The boys and girls grew up together. Play, eat, sleep, learn, laugh, cry, even sick, all together. The sensei are partner in caring my kids. They share the responsibilities with me not only in changing diapers, but also teaching basic principles of life. The first five years of life.

Last Friday was the last day at Hoikuen for Raisa. Time to say good bye, time to move forward.
She locked her mouth. Silence. Head down. She can’t even say a word of thank you or good bye to the sensei. She clung to her daddy until she can’t handle it anymore. She burst into tears. Sobbing. Unable to even see the face of sensei. Daddy got to pick the big girl. She knows she got bigger and it is time to go and enter elementary school, she knows there is a fresh start ahead of her, all the fancy school stationary, thousand praises and excitement to meet lots of new friends. But, Hoikuen has been the biggest part of her life. Eight hours a day for the whole six years. Almost her whole life for a six years and six months old girl.
I know she is a girl with vulnerable heart. I know she has never been good at Good Bye. But this time, I think, she entitled for all the tear flowed down her pink cheeks.

That night at home, she was quiet. She keep the Hoikuen photo album near her all the time. Those pages carry her growing record  from baby till the day she left Hoikuen. Her precious thing.

Gambare, my girl. Life goes on.

Hoikuen: Japanese Public Day Care
Sensei : Teacher
Gambare : Do your best