Settling into a Routine

We sleep until almost 9:00 A.M. My muscles hurt from yesterday’s ride and my sore throat is turning into a cold. We spend a quiet morning in our apartment. I make coffee and send e-mail. Art goes out for a ride returning with sashimi and sushi. There is a fish market just a few minutes from us. Following Art’s directions, John and I walk the 10 minutes to the fish market. Our route is below the freeway overpass and we walk past many tombs. These family tombs are either cut into the cliff side or freestanding. They are usually about the size of a one or two car garage and have a “turtle shell” style roof. The tombs contain urns with the washed bones of the deceased. We see these tombs most everywhere; tucked between houses and apartment buildings, along road sides and cut into cliffs. The warehouse is in an industrial part of the harbor and houses about 50 stalls. It is sparkling clean and well lit. Some vendors are selling prepackaged sashimi, others whole fish, octopus, crabs, lobsters and even rock fish and fugu. I imagine that this market is predominately a wholesale outlet but I’m delighted to have the freshest source of seafood available to us within walking distance.

Back in our apartment we each attempt to get to work. Art works a bit on Okinawa.com while I organize my wax table and begin to work. I don’t have good light and the chair is too high for my desk. I wander the apartment, moving available lamps and try to adjust the height of my table to my chair. By sitting on the bathroom stool and piling three of John’s text books on top, I achieve the correct height, but I am not going to be able to work without a good lamp. Art agrees to bicycle out and buy me a clip on light while John and I set out to Heiwadori Street to purchase a beetle. I take out our city map but it is all in Japanese and will not do me much good so I wing it and we ride our bicycles down Highway 58 cutting inland in what I hope is the direction of Kokusai Street. I am right on target and we arrive at the market within 15 minutes. Yesterday we discovered that it isn’t the season for Rhinoceros beetles so John has decided to adopt an Okinawa beetle. This end of the market is quiet and John gets the attention of the beetle vendor who lethargically rises and helps John choose his beetle. The man takes several beetles out and one pinches onto his finger and he grimaces from the pain. I realize that am not going to want to hold this beetle. Naturally John wants the biggest one available and ends up choosing a species from Indonesia. The tiny plastic cages are partitioned in half and it isn’t until John pays for his beetle that the vendor points out that there is a female beetle buried deep in the bedding of the other half of the cage. The female beetle is much smaller and has no pinchers. John is delighted that he gets two beetles for the price of one.

We now need beetle food, bedding and a larger cage so John and I ride in what I hope is the direction of Shintoshin and the Pet Box. Without a map, I decide that the best approach is to follow the Monorail, so we ride along the road beneath it and soon arrive at the Shintoshin Station. We know our way around this district and it’s just a few blocks to the Pet Box and the supermarket. At Pet Box, John shows the cashier his beetles and asks if he can put the male and female together? Through sign language she communicates that they will fight, so John purchases a larger cage for Frack and decides to use the smaller cage for Frick. He chooses the necessary beetle accessories and pays with his own money. John is anxious to get his beetle condo’s set up so I allow him to bike home on his own while I go to the supermarket. This is my first solo shopping trip and I take my time choosing the food and deciphering the labels on the laundry detergent and mouth wash.

It’s late afternoon before we are all back in the apartment. John busies himself with his beetles and then sits on the couch watching preschool television, holding Frack. I hope that John will learn something from this Japanese equivalent of Sesame Street and I plug in my new clip on light sit down and do waxes to the drone of the television. I am sneezing and my nose is running and I am feeling sick. I take a cold and flu capsule. I work for an hour but accomplish little and it’s almost dinner time so I busy myself in our tiny kitchen and cook our first dinner at home. Art helps me decipher the control panel on our washing machine and I do two loads of laundry. The stacking washer and dryer are beside the sink in our bathroom and are tiny by American standards.

Art leaves to go the the Makishi Dojo to find out about Karate Classes. He returns shortly, we eat dinner and Art and John go back to the Dojo for an 8:00 P.M. class. I am drugged from the cold and flu capsule but I manage to fold the laundry and wash the dishes before falling into bed.