Oishiiiiii

Two thin cookie wafers sandwich a decadent slice of chocolate. I handed out small white packages bearing a square sample of these delightful sweets to my teachers this week. H-sensei immediately recognized the packaging for “shiroi kobito,” and remarked in Japanese: “Did you go to Sapporo?”

These little souvenirs, often edible treats which have been individually wrapped, are called “omiyage.” Like all things in Japan, omiyage is a way to grease the wheels of social obligations particularly within the workplace. Most cities or popular sightseeing spots are known for specific treats. In Sapporo, they are proud of “shiroi kobito.” When I went down to Hiroshima, I picked up a few boxes of “momiji manju,” which is a maple-leaf shaped bun filled with sweet red-bean jam. I’ve been to Tokyo Disneyland and Tokyo Disney Sea three times, so I bought some “chocolate crunch” in the shape of Mickey-san’s head. And when I went to South Korea, I brought back flavoured seaweed.

Even before embarking on a plane to Japan, our embassy contacts emphasized the importance of following Japanese etiquette. It was highly suggested that we bring little presents to our new co-workers in Japan, in the hopes of showing our gratitude. I brought tons of kitschy things: maple syrup, magnets, postcards, maps, coasters, keychains, maple candies, chocolates, etc. I gave them to my bosses, fellow teachers, neighbours and so on. When my family visited two Christmases ago, they came armed with loads of stuff: Canadian whiskey and ice wine for my supervisors; Ferrero Rocher chocolates for my three staffrooms; and cute moose stuffed toys for my Sampei-san’s kids.

I enjoy giving omiyage in the staffroom, because some of the teachers actually drop by my desk to talk to me. (I’ve been here for almost years, but the staffroom can be a lonely place! People, at least in my base school, don’t really talk to me since I struggle when speaking in Japanese. It’s only when I’m at my elementary schools, I don’t feel embarrassed when I try talking with the staff. I feel like the atmosphere is different!) But when I bring in omiyage, I hear hushed tones of “Gemma-sensei, arigatou gozaimasu! Oishiiiiii!” (“Thank you, Ms. Gemma! It’s delicious!”)

Ah, sharing is caring.