I Miss the Desert

After an unexpected trip back to the US, I am back in Japan and incredibly glad I was able to make the quick trip (even though the circumstances requiring my trip home were not circumstances I would ever have wished to travel under). Despite the reason for going home, I did manage to enjoy some of the simple things I can’t do here like firing up the BBQ. One of my favorite foods to grill is pizza (it‘s very easy, very quick, and very delicious). The night before I left I forwent going out for dinner and a movie (Kim Son and Prairie Home Companion) so I could stay home and ‘Q us up some pizzas. It was an excellent decision although dough with only whole wheat flour doesn’t rise as well as a white/wheat blend.

I also had the time to get my hands real orange juice. ‘Real’ meaning juice that tastes like it actually comes from oranges (like Odwalla) and not from oranges that taste like they’ve run a marathon and sweated out all the sweetness (like Tropicana). Why isn’t real OJ available in Japan? I don’t know. It’s as hard to find as a good breakfast out in a restaurant (meaning it’s not available, period).

And of course, the light-as-a-feather, dry desert air does wonders in clearing out the mold from my head that the wet, heavy Japanese air encourages. That said, I stepped off the plane in Narita smack into the rainy season. It’s gray, it’s gloomy, it’s wet, really wet. Take, for example, Friday: I walked to work…in the rain…whose sheer volume was more than that of my shower that morning. I wasn’t out of the house five minutes and I was soaked. My shoes didn’t dry for two days. When I arrived at work and stripped off my rain jacket, only the tops of my shoulders were dry. Water had been drawn up from my shorts and into my t-shirt, spreading up my back nearly to my collar. I had walked in with a raincoat AND umbrella.

I miss the desert.