Nattomaki

One of the most disgusting foods on the face of the planet is found in Japan. It`s called natto. Though there may be a few people on Earth who disagree with me there, this is not a democracy, it`s my blog. So. My sister Sandi made the leap from Sister to Super-Hero during her visit here. This happened one fateful night at a Ginowan High English department drinking party when my evil-coworkers forced Sandi to eat nattomaki.

Natto is fermented soy beans. But I shall have to describe it in more detail for you to be truly disgusted. First of all, its stench is putrid. Natto smells absolutely horrendous, and everyone agrees on that, whether they like the taste or not. Japanese people are under the (incorrect) assumption that the reason foreigners can`t eat natto is because its fetid stench keeps them from getting close enough to taste it. You will seriously want to vomit the instant you catch a whiff of the rotting stink of fermenting soy beans that is natto.

Second, its appearance. Since these beans are fermented, they are covered in a thick slimy goo. It is remarkably similar to snot, except that since it`s fermenting, the natto-snot is filled with tiny bubbles. To make it even worse, Japanese people like to stir their natto vigorously before consuming it. I say stir because I cant think of a better word to describe what they do, but that's not quite right. They whip the natto around with their chopsticks for a few seconds, then they scoop up a glob and pull it high out over the bowl, creating a long string of thick fermented snot goop connecting chopsticks and bowl. Then they plunge the chopsticks back into the depths of the rotting, bubbling mess and whip it again. Repeat snot string, repeat stir, repeat snot string. Then on one upswing of the snot string, CHOMP! They stick the goop in their mouth. The horror of the whole scene is too much for me to even watch. But Japanese people are convinced that natto makes them smart in the head. So they feed it to their children by the gallon.

One jolly middle-aged English teacher forced me to eat natto the first night I arrived in Okinawa. I had managed to forget this scarring experience until Sandi`s visit. At that point, it suddenly occurred to me that I have always felt very hostile towards Jolly Lady... for no apparent reason. There it was! The natto. I had forced myself to forget on the surface (not very difficult, given my powers of memory), but my heart never forgave. NO, it never forgave. I usually feel like punching her every time she says anything.

Well. Me and Sandi find ourselves at the English drinking party one fine evening. The teachers are doing their usual thing and ignoring us, until Jolly Lady hits upon the idea of feeding my sister nattomakki without letting on what it is first. Apparently this is a favorite ritual of hers with foreigners. I suddenly remembered when she did it to me. I couldn't manage more than one taste at that time (not that I would even do that now). She laughed and with an elaborate flourish of the hand passed the natto bowl off to her oldest child. The child grins and begins shoveling the snotty mess down her gullet. Jolly Lady smiles vindictively, taps her head and says very loudly, natto good for the brain Joyce! Japanese children will be smart because eat natto. What I think she was really trying to say was, you have failed the first and most important test of Japanese culture, and by the way you will never be smart. Anyway. I didn't realize what they were trying to do to Sandi until it was already too late. They ordered a plate of nattomaki: little rolls of sushi with natto as the filling. This is even worse for an ignorant westerner, because the smell and sight of natto are masked within rice and seaweed and cannot warn a Poor Soul of IMMINENT DOOM.

Sandi! Would you like to try Japanese food? Good for brain? Jolly Lady asks with a barely repressed smirk. Suddenly 5 necks swivel towards us. 5 searing gazes are focused on my sister. The entire English department -- all of the people who have the power to make my life pleasant versus a living hell -- are waiting with bated breath to see whether this second representative of the Chapman family clan can represent and pass the Natto Test.

No, no no! I feel my chest go tight! My breath quickens! Panic and terror possess me. Sandi agrees enthusiastically because she is polite. A maniacal titter escapes me. How can I stop this? What can I do? SHE`LL DIE, SHE`LL VOMIT ON THEM, SHE`LL SPEW IT OUT IN TATTERED SEAWEED CHUNKS AND KILL THEM ALL!

But the die was cast. They could hear anything I said to warn her, and the politeness factor in Japanese society pretty much forces that this situation continue as planned. There was NO ESCAPE ROUTE but that which would spell my own doom... which I did consider, just so you don`t think too badly of me. I quickly figured that my doom-spelling options included:

1. Hysterically shrieking: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! as I wrench the nattomaki plate from Jolly`s offending hand and violently hurl it across the room, then position myself as a human shield between my sister in the onslaught of English Department cultural harassment. You shall not kill my sister with your heinous natto! I would cry. Prepare to meet your Maker, POO-HEADS!!!!!!! Would this involve hand-to-hand combat? I wasn't sure. But I thought it might. And I knew I could take all those middle-aged fluffs.

2. The surprise factor. With a wild battle cry of BANZAAAAAAAAAAAI, MOTHA FUCKAAAAAAAS! I would overturn the heavy wooden table onto the other members of my department and, in the ensuing confusion, leap over their flailing, broken limbs with my sister in my arms, race for the door and escape into the night, never again to show my face at Ginowan High.

I think she had already put the maki in her mouth by the time I had discarded both of these options as extremist and not in concordance with the JET Programme`s set of rules for cultural exchange and mutual understanding.

What happened? Well, once she got it in her mouth I could do nothing but stare on with a sick fascination and fear. Everyone else was staring at her too, but ratherly eagerly. You are EVIL, I thought towards them all, shooting my best dark stare. Sandi chewed. She chewed for like, 6 seconds. I began to think, oh wow, maybe nothing is going to happen. maybe she is dealing with this much better than i thought and I've exaggerated the whole situation. Had I reeeeaally been considering giving Jolly-San the Chapman Family one-two in the kisser?

BUT WAIT.

At the strike of second #7, a bell tolls (or something). Sandi`s entire body jerks erect, her eyes widen to their full widening width, I see her throat muscles contracting wildly, her hand clamps onto my leg under the table... the grip of a woman who is on the brink of losing it! Ah, she has chomped through the rice and seaweed mess to arrive at the natto beneath. This convulsion was the first time Sandi almost vomited. Really, she almost vomited twice and Im amazed that she didnt. She quickly sees the severity of the situation, the sticky cultural mess we have gotten ourselves into. She knows that there is no escape but to swallow this horror within and pretend like its nothing. Sandi gathers her courage and takes another chew. Oh, it`s agony. I can see the pain and suffering in her eyes, feel it in her clutching fingers. Chew. Chew. She must attempt to swallow, but how? She`s terrified that she will blow chunks all over the English Department if she does try to get the grossness any further into herself. She gives it a go and almost vomits for the second time. Once again a violent full-body jerk. Again, her throat muscles visibly contract, We`ll send bile! they cry, attempting to repulse this nefarious intruder, this substance that no one should call Food. Oh it was too much for me.

In these last moments of the ordeal I lost my grip on social convention. DRINK BEER! DRINK BEER! I started yelling, forgetting propriety in the heat of the moment. She`s going to lose it, I can tell! She`s going to vomit! The English Department is going to feel SO BAD! I had grabbed her beer mug and begun recklessly sloshing beer as I waved it in front of her contorted face, willing her to take this small comfort that was all I felt I had to offer. She staunchly refused (later explained that she was going to vomit if she did anything else but tried to swallow right then and there) and continues to fight her body`s instincts and swallow the snotty fermented goo. Finally, she does. It`s down, it`s gone! She immediately reaches for the beer and takes a long pull. My evil co-workers await her verdict. They lean forward, breathing in her discomfort through their wicked wicked nosies. But Sandi gives them nothing to gloat about! She brings her face up out of the beer mug slowly, smiles sweetly and says, `It has a bite to it!` That`s all. A bite.

Like I said, Sandi went from sister to superhero that fateful day. Because she passed the Natto Test with flying colors. This is especially laudable given that Sandi feels vomitacious towards seaweed as well, a fact which I forgot to mention earlier in the story.


SANDI`S COMMENTS ON THE MATTER
(also to be found in the `comments` section, for those of you who read that thing)

i almost got sick again just readingit.because of the rice and seaweed, what assailed my senses first was actually not the natto but the seaweed, which actually makes me incredibly nauseated. i asked them if i had to eat the whole thing atonce or if i could take a bite and one English teacher leaned forwardand said "no, all at once, all at once!!"the first bite--seconds 1-6 iimagine--were when i had bitten the roll in half--my taste buds were only touching seaweed and rice with the natto and more rice and seaweed in the pouch of my cheek. i was suffering from the beginning because ofthe seaweed, but really, i have never been so unpleasantly surprised bya sensation in my life as i was when i finally moved the natto ballfrom cheek pouch to tongue.i thought to myself, just hold it in, holdit in sandi. i remembered how i prevailed over a mix of walnuts, blueveiny goat cheese, and anchovies to please an ex-boyfriend's family onthe first visit, and i kept chewing. joyce started screaming atme "drink beer, drink beer" and i thought to myself, how can shepossibly think that adding another flavor to this truly horrendous mixand prolonging the agony by stopping to take a sip would be a goodidea? i just shook my head dumbly and kept at it. two gags, i almost didn't make it. i've really not seen joyce that angry in a long time.it was great!