Skin Grafts and the Next Iron Chef

Last Saturday morning, I went with the softball team to a field on the side of a mountain to plant rice. The people who used to take care of the field haven't had time to cultivate it recently, so they asked for volunteers from the community to use the land and my softball team signed up.

A few weeks ago, the softball men went up to the mountain to pull out the grass and weeds already growing in the field, and last Wednesday, we went up to the field one more time to make dirt walls around its perimeter so that it could be filled with water.

Then, on Saturday, it was planting day. Most fields are planted by machines now, but I guess the owners of the field thought it would be more traditional and environmentally friendly to plant the rice seedlings by hand. So about ten of us rolled up our sleeves and our pant legs, jumped into the field, and trudged back and forth through the mud, bending over to plant rice seedlings every foot or so.

It has warmed up here recently and there was a nice breeze blowing on Saturday, so it really felt good to be outside in the sun. Unfortunately, I stupidly forgot to apply any sun block whatsoever (I don't usually burn, so I totally didn't think about it at all....how silly of me). Today, my shoulders feel like they are on fire.

Even more impressive are my legs. I've actually started a new form of body art. Behold:


All you have to do is splash a little mud on yourself in the desired pattern and stand outside in six inches of muck for two and a half hours. Then, voila, the mud splatters will remain white, while the rest of your leg will turn a brilliant red. Magnifique, no?

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Since we were planning to be at the rice field all day, we were supposed to pack lunch to eat at noon. One of the softball men said that he really wanted to try my cooking and asked me to make lunch for him and his son too. (Actually, I think he was just too lazy to make his own lunch, but hey, who knows....)

In Japan, making lunches is really an art form -- you can't just throw a sandwich and a bag of potato chips in a bag. A good Japanese wife will cook several different sides to go with the rice, arrange them in pretty patterns in a pretty box, and carve the fruit into rabbits and swans and things.

With all the works of art I've seen in the last couple of years, I wasn't very confident that I could live up to the softball men's expectations. But fortunately, I received an emergency lunchbox creation lesson from my roommate on Friday night. We slaved away for several hours and the end result was quite respectable if I do say so myself. (....although we didn't attempt any rabbits or swans. I guess I'll have to try my hand at fruit sculpting next time...)

On Saturday, I unveiled my creations at the rice field, and the softball men went absolutely wild. One guy took a rice ball and said that he wanted to put it in the freezer so that he could preserve it and take it out every morning to admire it again and again. Another guy took pictures of the lunch boxes and posted them on his architecture company's website. Click on "COLUMN" in the link bar at the top of the page, and check out the posts from April 29th, May 8th and May 9th if you'd like to see my masterpieces, the softball men, and our rice field. :)