Last time I posted, I had recently ordered a seasonal menu item at a local restaurant: lemon pizza. You could be forgiven for missing the picture, as the “slideshow” style that I choose for my photos often buries some of them behind three or four mouse clicks.
Anyway, without really meaning to, I’ve referenced that lemon pizza experience in several conversations since. To be clear, while the ingredients where undoubtably high quality, it’s just not a very suitable flavor combination for pizza. But after seeing it on the menu, I knew that if I didn’t order it, I would be left wondering.
On my birthday, Yoshino and I were looking for a restaurant we could try within walking distance. We had walked only a block before we found a tiny French restaurant that, despite having lived within sight of for almost three years, I had no idea existed. We peeked inside, and the place was completely deserted. We couldn’t even find any staff. We briefly retreated – if nobody was there, it couldn’t be good, right? But again, that thought… would I be OK wondering what is was like, now that I had discovered this hidden place? So back we marched, eventually finding the owner watching YouTube videos, who seemed a bit surprised to have customers. Essentially, he’d studied in France, liked cooking, and didn’t really like the idea of a 9-5 job. So, he opened his own French restaurant in the middle a little rural town and, after telling us all this, made us a hell of a beef roast.
The same idea applied last week, at my weekly Japanese conversation group. Our group facilitator (a smokin’ hot genius who I also happen to be dating) often takes us to different places for our lesson. Saturday, we were at a café attached to a former gold mine that is now a storehouse used for aging 焼酎 (shochu, a Japanese liquor made primarily from sweet potatoes). The facility offered a train tour of the mine/storehouse area. How was the experience? Well, it was damp, smelly, and cold. But it was also interesting and, thanks to some good company, ended up being quite fun. Check out our group in the photos – me, Yoshino, her brother Hayato, and my fellow not-quite-intermediate-but-not-quite-beginner Japanese learners, Pádraic and Alexis.
I know that “always try the lemon pizza” does not sound like much of a proverb by which to live one’s life. For now, though, it works for me. When possible, it’s best not to be left wondering.
One habit I’ve developed that would likely come as a bit of a surprise to many is my fondness for Japanese 温泉 (onsen, natural hot spring bath). Soaking in water naked with a bunch of strangers in an environment where I’m the only one who isn’t sure of the highly codified procedures for doing so… the idea triggered so many disparate anxieties within me, you could have held a triathlon to see which apprehension debilitated me first.
After being prodded into it, though, I realized that it feels… well, incredible. Especially in the winter time. So, I did my best to learn the rules. Some are specific to certain places (take a locker token, trade it for key, return them after the bath). Most are universal, though – shower before using the bath, bring a small towel inside so you can get mostly dry before re-entering the dressing room). Some onsen provide amenities, some provide none – so I built on onsen kit that can adapt to what is on offer at each place. Also of importance – the desire to go can hit you at any time, and onsen are everywhere, so keep your onsen stuff in the car.
Now, I’m not going to say that every part of the experience is relaxing. The rude still stare at my junk while I shower and move away if I enter the same bath. The overly eager still take my presence as a chance for a free, impromptu English lesson. But to relax in steaming hot water with a beautiful mountain- or river-view landscape in front of you, as your muscles relax and the minerals make your skin shiny…
As we age, we tend to let our preconceived notions about what we like and dislike dictate our experiences. Most of the time, our dismissal of new experiences is passive, not active, so it may be tough to notice that we’re missing out on something at all. I’m not saying that these notions should be challenged every day, in every conceivable situation – that’s exhausting. Nor am I saying that one should allow themselves to be pressured into doing things they don’t want – that’s irritating.
But I do think it’s important for our growth and happiness to let try something new, even if we think we know how it’ll go. And even if we have to develop our own coping mechanisms for the stress and anxiety that new experience can cause. The sense of accomplishment that you get, not to mention the occasional surprisingly pleasant outcome, is definitely worth it.
And even if it turns out being not so great, at least you’ll have an idea for a new blog post.
Satsumasendai, Sakurajima, and Spencer-sensei 