Your Nose Is So Tall!

In Japan, there are many phenomenon that are a mystery to foreigners. One of which is how much Japanese people love the foreign nose...

If a person has a high bridge on their nose, many Japanese people envy that because they think that their noses are "flat". Japanese people have a word that they use for a "high" nose, which is "takai". And a "takai" nose is the greatest thing ever in Japan. In fact, when I tell Japanese people that some people in America get plastic surgery to make their nose smaller, they CANNOT wrap their brain around it. They just don't understand why anyone wouldn't want a "tall" nose.

Last week, my friend Heather was visiting Japan, and we were busy shopping one day. After about a half an hour of chatting and shopping, Heather decided to try on some clothes. As she entered the dressing room, the Japanese man helping her politely shut the curtain. Right as the curtain closed, his eyes nearly popped out of his head and he whispered emphatically to me, "TAKAI!!!" He would have done a back flip if there was enough room in the store. I'm sure of it. He was absolutely enthralled with Heather's nose... showing me the dimensions (height and length) of her nose with his forefinger and thumb. He then ended with a "eeehhh, sugoi!" which means, "woooooah, that's amazing!"

As I was giggling, I was trying to explain to Heather what we were talking about, and why this man was quietly flipping out. I tried to explain that this man was in love with her nose. I used a metaphor to give a visual for her... "its like a woman with thin lips looking at Angelina Jolie's lips in amazement and envy." And boy was he in amazement.

She then told the salesman that her nose is a family joke, but he said, "No, no, no, its not a joke. Its... so high!"

It made me realize that all things are beautiful , and that God has made us perfectly; each wonderfully unique. The "standard" of beauty is only a matter of perspective and culture. Which means that there is some tribe in Africa that may appreciate long, gangly toes. Or a place in the Himalyan Region that thinks that having pointy elf ears is a sign of beauty and wisdom.

...Now, if only I could find somebody that could appreciate this lollypop hairdo...

Always Picture Ready

The peace sign. Its everywhere in Japan. Any picture that is being taken, whether they are 2 or 92 years old, will almost always have it.

I've asked Japanese homeless people if I can take a picture with them... they always sport the peace sign.

I've seen 90 year old Japanese ladies with walkers, posing in front of famous temples, trying to balance themselves so that they can show their peace sign.

I've even seen 2 year old Japanese kids that can't put their fingers in the peace sign position yet, which ends up being 3 fingers instead of 2. Nevertheless, it was a peace sign in the making.

The peace sign is everywhere. And its like a loaded pistol... always ready to go.

So, I was having dinner with Heather and my friend Kiyoka, when I fell in love with our waiter. Not in a romantic way. He was just so cute and he reminded me of a friendly little elf. Always happy and super sweet with big bright eyes. Like the kind of elf that I'd love to have around at Christmas time to help me wrap...

Anyways...

He was completely busy the whole time, but never failed to be polite and helpful. After dinner, he brought our check and waltzed us up to the register to pay. While he was busy with a few other customers, and while Heather and Kiyoka were figuring out the bill, I decided to get a quick picture of our little elf in action. So without asking for a picture I just snapped one... in less than a second, he was perfectly posed with a peace sign and all. A perfect picture. No blur at all. Then, in less than one second, he was back to helping customers again.

Talk about service with a smile! He even thanked ME for taking the picture.

Just goes to show that even when you're busy, there's always time for a smile (and a peace sign of course).

Ahhh the Mullet

This week I decided to get my hair cut. It was long, shaggy, and just plain disrespectful. And, as my best friend Michelle would say, "Buddy, have some self respect!" That means, "Nicole, get your hair cut... now."

So, I decided to ask an adult student of mine where she gets her hair cut because she's just about the cutest thing ever. Toshiko told me all of the information, got me an appointment and I was set to go.

The appointment started off not so good... I was all by myself with a bunch of Japanese people that spoke only Japanese... and they all had scissors in their hands. Not so scary if you have confidence that they know what you want, but scary as heck when all of the hair magazines showed the fancy MULLET. I kid you not, its an epidemic here. Mullets galore. Scary mullets and fancy mullets, but they are all still... mullets.

So I pick out a picture that I like (which isn't a mullet), and I gave it to him, but he kept pointing to another picture that had a mullet. I put my arms up like an "X" and said "NO". I even gave a buzzer sound like on a game show, and he giggled. I wanted to make it clear that I didn't want a mullet or anything close to that. We finally agreed on the picture that I wanted and he sat me down to cut my hair.

The adventure begins.

He started hacking away the back, which I couldn't see while he was cutting it, so I couldn't really say anything. He then turned me around, gave me a hand held mirror and showed me the back... which was a full on mullet. Short, layered top and long on the bottom. My eyes proceeded to bulge out of my head. But, then I remembered that I needed to be polite, so I placed my eyeballs back to normal position and said, "ummm, can you cut the bottom a little bit more, please?" He took an inch off of the bottom, which just made it a shorter mullet.

He then decided it was time to focus on the front. So, he showed me the picture of the mullet he had picked out earlier and started in Japanese hair terms about the front of my hair. I put up my arms "X" style again and said "boo boo" (Japanese game show buzzer), and he giggled again. So, I said, "I do not want the sides or top too short." He decided to barely cut the sides in the front. Which meant that I had a mullet in back and no layers in the front.

Party in back, business in the front... that is the philosophy of the mullet. And that is exactly what I had.

After I went home and got to play with it a little, I decided that you can't really restyle a mullet to look like anything other than a mullet, so I made another appointment. This time I was going to insist on a picture that I liked and that was it...

Two hours later after chopping and conversing in more Japanese hair cutting technical terms, I left with a rather short bob. He cut my hair up to the top layer. The good news is... no more mullet. The bad news is... with my wavy hair, it looks like a globe on the top of my body. A lollypop if you will. A pumpkin on a toothpick. Whatever it is, I rode my bicycle home crying the whole way. As I was riding (and crying), old people kept staring at me.

I was thinking in my head, "Yes I have mascara running down my face. Yes I'm weeping out loud. And, Yes I'm a foreigner. Oh, and I know that my hair looks silly too. But must you stare?" They must have thought that something really tragic must have happened for me to be crying the way that I was. Then I realized, "you know what Nicole, there are children and families dying from war and hunger, and you are crying because you look like a lollypop?"

And that's when my tears of sadness turned to gratitude for what I have. I realized that my heart needs to care for the real problems in the world.

I still look like a lollypop though.

Let's Go Crazy

For Christmas, my family gave me money for an ipod and this weekend I made the big purchase. Since Saturday, my days have been filled with music and its been amazing. Although, I think that I should have warned the neighborhood that I would be singing songs at the top of my lungs while riding my bike around town. Really. And, if any of you have heard my voice, you'll know why I should have apologized first...

My voice is so bad! In fact, while I was singing one time, a friend of mine asked, "Nicole, where's the money?" I thought and thought and thought, and didn't know what "money" he was talking about. So, I said, "money? What money?" He then said, "the money they gave you for voice lessons." Awwww. That's just plain mean. But, hey, the truth hurts, right?

As I was riding my bike to school this morning, I think I surprised a few people when I started belting out "Lets Go Crazy" by Prince. It started off with the infamous, "dearly beloved, we are gathered here today for a thing called life... the electric word life that means forever... and that's a mighty long time..." Did I skip that part? Oh, heck no. Did I do it in a deep, serious voice? Of course. The people waiting at the stop light with me just stared, politely. I never made eye contact, I didn't want to miss a beat. I just did my thing.

Then the light turned green and it was time to "GET CRAZY". I felt like a maniac, I was so happy and energized. It was like bicycle aerobics. My own spinning class. I was on fire!

Needless to say, I love my ipod. We go everywhere together. And, I should probably apologize in advance if I make an appearance in your neighborhood anytime soon.

Bicycle Adventures

So, a few weeks ago I was riding my bicycle home from school in the rain. For all of you who have tried to ride your bicycle in the rain, you realize that you have to use one hand to hold an umbrella and the other to steer (and use the breaks if need be). And if any of you have ever seen me drive, you realize that this can be a dangerous situation.

Also, going up hills is a little difficult because you have to stay seated while steering and holding the umbrella. But, as you're riding up the hill you just think of the easy, fun and fast ride down. So, I'm sweatin', huffin', and puffin' up the hill and finally make it to the top. Which brings me to the fun part... I sail down the hill with the wind and rain brushing my face...

Until I see this little old man starting to cross the sidewalk a few feet in front of me at the bottom of the hill (just when the ride starts to get good). The sidewalk is tiny and he's walking very s-l-o-w-l-y. He's walking from the cigarette machine back to his scooter parked on the street... with his helmet still on. So I ring my bell well in advanced for him to stop in his tracks or pick up the pace. But, the helmet, or possibly poor hearing has blocked out my "ring ring... ring ring... RING RING" ringing. I realize that this guy has no idea that I'm coming, so I pulled on my brakes as fast and as hard as I possibly could. Now let me remind you that these are my front brakes, which means that I almost flipped over my bike as I was screaming down the hill.

Eventually having to use my feet (Fred Flinstone style), I finally stopped my bike, about 1 inch from this guys right leg. He barely realizes I am there. I then gently screamed, "helllloooo!!?!". Just then, the little old man looked at me, with a huge grin on his face. He looked suprised and soooooo happy as he was waving his hand. Its as if he knew me when he said a sweet, "hello".

I had to laugh and ended up smiling back at him. I gave him my best "Konnichiwa" and he bowed and gave me a sweet "konnichiwa" back.

As I started up on my bike again, I looked back and said "kiyo tsukette" which means "be careful out there".

Just when life seems to get crazy, its that warm, sweet smile that saves the day.