チョコレートの工場: The Chocolate Factory

Not mentioned in the guide book ,but surprisingly worth a look, was the factory where the most famous of Hokkaido "omiyage" (souvenirs) are made. 白い恋人 (shiroi koibito), or "white lover" as it is often improperly translated to the delight of puerile native English speakers everywhere, makes a very fine chocolate product at this very factory easily reached from the Sapporo subway system.

Outside the factory lights, snowmen and singing animatronic machines were in great abundance. The official factory tour was closed by the time we arrived, but the gift shop was still open. Entering through the side door, which apparently is normally just an exit, we were able to see the whole factory for free.
And what a factory it was! Everything a 7 year old could ever want in a chocolate factory without the creepy little green men singing songs about bratty children turning into giant blueberries (they did, however, have creepy singing robots). This place features a toy museum, collections of antique cocoa and coffe cups, a lounge, many strange decorations and the soothing aroma of chocolate in every nook and cranny.

That's right, Abraham Lincoln, Ludwig Von Beethoven and Pinocchio all take a break for chocolate in the White Lover Factory.

Elegant 19th century European style architecture and classical artwork made this building one of the most interesting and unusual I've seen in Japan so far. Oh, yeah, and they make chocolate here too.

Other Scenes in and Around Sapporo

One of the great things about this trip to Hokkaido was the very little amount of planning that I had to do to prepare for it. I tagged along with Fuji Climbing Partner who doubles as both a good trip planner and a non-obnoxious travel buddy. In travel, it generally doesn't take long for some people to get annoying - especially, close-minded people, morning people, late-morning people, mid-afternoon people, late-afternoon people, evening people, excitable people, outgoing people, friendly people and people who put salt on their watermelon slices.
Thankfully, Fuji Climbing Partner was none of those things in Hokkaido.
This was a museum entrance before the snow fell.
According to her guidebook, this outdoor museum is one of the best sites in Sapporo. It's a collection of buildings important to the island's young modern history. Japanese people didn't settle here much until the mid-19th century. At one point while walking around and not seeming all to eager to stop everywhere one of us turned to the other and asked, "so, you into architecture?"
"yeah, me neither."
Lots of snow in Sapporo.
From the snow festival. Apparently the train wasn't running, so instead of fixing it or just leaving it alone, they had a man push it around the track.
Definitely the angriest meal advert I've ever seen. Can you imagine the Colonel trying to fry one of these without losing a few fingers?
In my last night in the area (Fuji stuck around another night or two), we met up with Infectious Laughter and German Speaker in a very active part of the city that featured some other ice sculptures. This picture is not of an ice sculpture, however, but rather that one wonderful display of hair on the right side of the photo.

雪祭り：Snow Festival

Time to start posting photographs from 北海道 (Hokkaido), the northernmost of the major Japanese islands and proud home of nearly 6 months of winter weather annually.Every year in February, Sapporo, the capital and largest city of Hokkaido, hosts a Snow Festival. For one week, people pass through the city in droves to see the many snow and ice sculptures. The main section of sculptures took about 1-2 hours to see, but there were other smaller displays in other parts of the city.

International superstar Al Gore!
There were a dozen large sculptures like this one and many dozens more of smaller ones like the Al Gore above.

This one follows the design of Inuyama Castle, a national treasure not far from Nagoya.

Several of the large sculptures also featured a stage with entertainers or games.

A Rhinovirus Requiem: Haiku Round 3

I took a couple days off work and spent a long weekend in Hokkaido, the northern island, to see the Snow Festival and a few other things. I'll begin posting about that later in the week after I've organized my photographs.

In Hokkaido there is snow for, on average, half a year. The snow, however, differs from the snow in Fukui which is usually wet and slushy. Hokkaido is cold, but it's a drier cold than Fukui, so it's easier to handle (at least it seemed so while I was there). After spending a weekend wandering outdoors in Hokkaido and returning to the wet muck of Fukui and a flat with no central heating, it was inevitable that some kind of virus would at least attempt to disrupt my senses. While walking around a classroom this morning feeling as disorientated as a fish in the desert I thought of a few words to describe my physical status.

Cold chest, fever mind
Internal antipodes
Of water and flame

Supernova flare
Fades into icy blackness
Soon to burst again

Setsubun & Central Heating

Around this time of year is the Japanese tradition of 節分 (Setsubun), "the turning point of the seasons". Based on the old Japanese calendar, this is when winter became spring. At some point people realized that it was still snowing heavily and decided to adopt the more accurate Western calendar. Anyway, during the last day of spring the tradition has been to throw roasted soybeans around the house and outside the house while saying, 「鬼は外！福は内！」 (Oni wa soto! Fuku wa uchi!). This means, "demons out! blessings in!" It's a fun event for families with small children to celebrate the purging of bad luck and hopeful arrival of new spring happiness. I think it's a bit like Easter egg hunts in the States in that people remember doing it every year when they were really little but tend to stop once they get older.

Central Heating for all practical purposes is non-existant in this country. At school each room has its own kerosone furnace called the "stove" (word taken from English). My desk is close to "the stove" in the teachers' room. The computer I use is right next to it. Often teachers who don't even use this room will pass through and stand next to it to warm themselves. They don't do anything but stand, and since it's right next to me I always feel like I'm being watched. Really creepy, actually. I'll just be minding my own business reading the news or preparing a Spanish lesson for this girl I've been coaching in Spanish lately and, all of a sudden, one or two people will be standing right over me. Then a conversation begins and one or two becomes two or three and two or three becomes three or four. I've reached a point now when I realize that every time a Japanese person laughs it's not necessarily about how silly I appear, but I still feel on edge whenever they whisper.