Category: Okinawa-2007

Wednesday, February 7th

It’s 5:15 in the morning Okinawa time, and although I’m still exhausted, my California time body clock won’t let me sleep more. My husband, Art Bobroskie, myself and our 14 year old son, John traveled 22 hours to get here. We will be here for three months exploring the islands to learn all that we can about the culture, history and contemporary life in Okinawa. I have packed all of my wax carving tools and gemstones recently purchased from the Tucson Gem and Mineral show. As soon as we find an apartment I will set up a tiny work space so that I will be able to create new designs during our stay here. John has packed a suitcase full of books and will home school while we are here.

Monday Feb 5th.
I am awake before the 4:00 A.M. alarm mentally checking the final things off on my packing list. I work a final three hours in my office and at 7:00 A.M. I am surprised by an unexpected visit from Alisha, Sterling and Molly. We had said our goodbyes last night so I am completely surprised and delighted. We exchange more hugs and kisses and take a final long look at our 5 month old grand daughter, Molly. She will be crawling when we return in late April but Alisha promises to e-mail us photos. Our friend, Michael Shulman drive us to the airport and although we have 7 bags and Art’s oversized crated bicycle, we are early and check in is smooth. John has been anticipating 12 hours of non stop movies and is immediately involved in the remote control that operates the tiny seat back screen positioned in front of him. John is already taller than I am and he folds himself into the window seat. I scrunch into the middle seat, the peanut butter between Art and John. The flight is surprisingly painless and the 11 hours pass easily between movies and mediocre airline food. We land at Narita International Airport, Tokyo ahead of schedule.

We still have another flight to catch from a different airport so after proceeding through immigration we retrieve our bags, pass through customs and catch an Airport bus for the 1 hour and 20 minutes transfer to the Hanada Airport. Before leaving the United States, I had ordered yen from my bank at home. Having yen in our pockets streamlines our entry. We don’t need to agonize over the airport exchange rates and deal with currency exchange in order to purchase our 3,000 yen bus tickets to Hanada. We have taken this bus many times before and it seems outrageous that it costs nearly $30.00 each to transfer from the international airport to the domestic airport, but that is the way that it is. The bus is convienent and easy and our 7 bags and bicycle are immediately loaded underneath the bus. I look out the window in a jet lagged daze. The air is hazy and the sun is low in the sky. The route isn’t particularly scenic, but all is interesting when you travel. Blue and red tiled houses and apartment buildings with laundry drying on balconies whizz past us. We speed past industrial areas and past high tech districts with unusual and sometimes futuristic architecture. Ferris wheels are silhouetted grey against the hazy skyline and the towers of Disney World’s Magic Castle pierce the haze. The sun is a burning red ball on the horizon when we arrive at Hanada Airport. We watch it set, dipping low under an immense red steel arch. I wish for immediate access to my camera to capture the moment, but my camera is packed securely beneath my computer and sleep deprivation has all but immobilized me.

After retrieving our baggage from the belly of the bus we recheck our bags for the flight to Okinawa and wander the multi level airport shopping mall during our lay over. The airport mall sparkles with brilliantly lit shops and restaurants. We survey the plastic food displays in front of a dozen restaurants and finally chose a restaurant for dinner. Our “set” meals are served on black and red lacquered trays arranged with various sized lacquered dishes and covered bowls. The flight to Okinawa is half empty and John and I are able to stretch out on empty seats and sleep away the two hour flight.

Warm and humid air rushes at us as we deboard the plane and we float dreamlike along glassy corridors lined with literally hundreds of brilliant blooming orchids. The air is heavy with their fragrances. We have already been through immigration in Tokyo so the moving conveyor belt hums us silently and quickly to the baggage claim. Takaki and Tadashi meet us and it takes both of their vans to accommodate the three of us and our luggage.

We have hotel reservations at the Super Hotel. Checking in is a high tech experience. There is a desk clerk but check in is processed by a machine somewhat like an ATM. A screen displays room options and Art presses the screen and enters the number of people in our party and number of nights needed. He slides in crisp bills and a receipt prints out with our room number and a code to open our door. Our triple room is 8000 yen, (about $75) including breakfast for the three of us. Our room is on the 7th floor and Art punches our security code into the key pad. A light flashes green, we turn the handle and enter into our postage stamp sized room. The room is approximately 10 feet x 10 feet square equipped with a stark white fiberglass bathroom pod. This imaculate room is more like a state room onboard a ship than a hotel room. John is exhausted and climbes immediately up the black steel ladder to his narrow and tightly made bunk bed. Art and I fight with suitcases trying to find space to fit them into our room. There are no closets, but two wall racks with three hangers each for our belongings. A queen sized platform bed consumes the majority of the room, tucked underneath the single upper bunk bed. A narrow desk is along the window side of the room with a 12″ T.V. at one end, a hot water plate at the other and a tiny refigerator squeezed underneath. There are three pair of bathroom slippers hung below the narrow wall mirror and an emergency flashlight. Art falls into bed immediately but I take some time in our tiny and bathroom cleaning up from the long trip. I am not a stranger to the high tech world of the Japanese toilet, but this is the first time I have had one of these amazing toilets in my room. I hope the following comments will amuse and not offend my readers. The bathroom “pod” is aproximately 4 feet x 5.5 feet and remarkably well designed. A small but very deep bathtub is against the not so very far away wall with a tiny sink angled between tub and toilet. There is a drain in the center of the floor. I sit down to relieve my bladder and the cushioned seat is heated. Immediately there is a rush of water filling the toilet. The controls along side of the toilet have visually explicit icons. One button regulates a warm jet stream of water aimed at one’s butt and a second button operates a wider spray of water. There is a controll slide to regulated the pressure of the water. Although these features are more than satisfactory, this toilet lacks the of hot air option to dry one’s bottom. It also lacks the musical or “flushing noise” feature that I have noticed in some upscale public bathrooms. (A user can push this button to cover up any embarassing bathroom sounds he or she might emit.) Familiarized with the toilet I move to brush my teeth. Individually wrapped disposable toothbrushes are provided with miniscule tubes of toothpaste. There is one pivoting water faucet positioned between the bathtub and the sink. I swing the faucet so that it points into the sink, turn on the cold water and brush. I note that I will have the option of a deep bath or the use of a shower wand in the morning. Wall mounted soap and shampoo dispensers are installed for our convienence. Exhausted by the trip I slip gratefully into crisp sheet and sleep.

Marty

Wednesday, February 7, 2007

Our bodies still haven’t adjusted to Okinawa time so we wake at 5:00 A.M. and are the first ones downstairs for breakfast in our Super Hotel. An entire wall in the dining area is lined with drink vending machines and one of the machines is programmed to offer the hotel guests free coffee and tea between the hours of 7:00 A.M. and 9:00 A.M. John makes a beeline for the machine and pushes the icon for the hot milk coffee. A cold breakfast buffet is arranged along the side counter plus hot rice and miso soup. There are platters of cold tamago, cold seaweed mixed with rice noodles and vegetables and what I think is a stir fry bamboo dish, also cold. There are triangles of tuna and egg sandwiches with the crusts cut off and small square pieces of teriyaki duck or chicken. A sliced roll of mystery meat and vegetable pate is yet another option. Three small dishes hold colorfully dyed pickled vegetables and on the shelf above are saran wrapped “croissants” and butter and jam. John eats several pieces of tamago (a sweet cold egg omelet) and gorges on the overly processed croissants which he stuffs with jam and butter. This morning’s breakfast and the dining room is far removed from the breakfast buffets at hotels back home which in my opinion also leave much to be desired. A dozen tables are arranged grid like in the dining area. They are more like 4 person desks. Each “desk” has a white plastic vertical partition visually dividing the diners on one side of the table from the diners on the other side. The hotels guests begin to arrive. They are mostly Japanese business men wearing crisp white shirts and ties. Each picks up a plastic tray, configured somewhat like a T.V. dinner tray with several partitions for each choice of food. Each fills their tray and then sits facing the blank partition to eat breakfast in silence. No one is overweight except for Art and me.

We take a long morning walk through the Shintoshin district. Shintoshin is a new upscale district with many new hotels, shopping malls and restaurants. John rides his skate board and we stop in at a sporting store to look at bicycles for John and me. The sky is bright blue, the temperature in the mid 70’s. At noon we choose a restaurant from the plastic food display in the window. Inside we order from a glossy picture menu depicting the “set” options and large lacquer trays arranged with our chosen dishes are delivered to us shortly. Lunch is good. This restaurant is just one of many like these, formula, but with mindful presentation and gracious service. Our bill is about $30 for the three of us, including tax and there is no tipping in Japan.

Takaki picks us up at the hotel at 1:00 P.M. sharp. He has arranged for us to look at an apartment near the harbor. This area of the city is older and Art and John would prefer to be in Shintoshin but there are not many short term apartments available anywhere. It is on the second floor, has two sunny front rooms, a narrow balcony and a second bedroom off the back but it isn’t furnished. It is $10,000. Yen per month plus utilities. (about $875) The apartment next door is also available, has the same floor plan and is furnished. It’s $12,000. (about $1050) Yen per month but the furnishings are ghastly. I am not sure I will be able to live with the turquoise floral bedspreads, lace covered Kleenex boxes and plaid couch but we decide to take the furnished one so that we don’t have to spend time and money setting up house. Unfortunately the apartment doesn’t have internet connection so we will have to walk to an internet café daily. The nearest one is about 20 minutes away and Takaki drives us there so we can check it out. We have all been getting along well, but the three of us can’t continue to live in our 10 foot x 10 foot room much longer without loosing our sanity.

We part ways with Takaki at the internet café to walk back to our hotel via the skate park and central park in Shintoshin. It’s another gorgeous day and John spends a few minutes on the half pipe, but he has the wrong board and skates ahead of us to get his longer board back at the hotel. Except for the traffic, we have no worries about John being on his own in the city. Art returns to the skate park to hang with John while I work on my blog in the hotel.

One more unconventional aspect of the Super Hotel is that you must leave your room between the hours of 10:00 A.M. and 3:00 P.M. During this time a crew of about 10 women cleans the rooms. I saw them gathering this morning just before we left. They stood in two lines facing each other reading in unison, almost chanting, from sheets of paper in front of them. The female desk clerk led them in this exercise. Apparently before the work day begins in many work groups in Japan, there is a team meeting where the employees recite the company values and motivational mantra. These women were all wearing matching green scrub covers. Their heads were covered with green scarves. They did not look joyful or motivated.

This Super Hotel is centrally located in the Shintoshin district so for dinner we walk over to the Duty Free Center Mall. Art promises us an adventure so we glide up a sleek escalator and at the top is the “Coliseum” food court. This is like no other food court that I have seen. The hostess at the top of the escalator hands us a “charge” card to record our purchases at any of the various food stations. We will pay the total when we leave. The lighting and ambience is elegant and we circle the various “Islands” trying to choose. There is a glimmering drink island where one can order most any libation and diverse entrees from around the world. When traveling our family has an extremely difficult time choosing where to eat and tonight is no exception. Although the prices are not exceptionally high, we are exhausted and decide that tonight might not be the best night to try this dining experience. We complete our circle, hand the hostess our unused cards and return to the street. We walk back past another mall and on its second floor is the usual food court. Art and John choose McDonalds and I eat a pate of chicken and salad. The mall is teaming with teenagers and I enjoy the fashion parade as I eat a very poor dinner.

The Waiting Game

Art and John start the morning off with a run down to the Shintoshin Park. It’s another glorious day with blue skies and mild temperature. We eat breakfast together in our Super Hotel and I do a load of laundry in the tiny washing machines. At 10:00 A.M. we must leave for the day so that the hotel can be cleaned. John grabs his skateboard and we head to the Monorail to go downtown. Kokusai Street, is lined with tourist shops, restaurants and bars. I am happy to be wandering along this bustling street again. There is an energy here that is more exciting and “foreign” than that in the Shintoshin district. This is my fourth trip to Okinawa and I am familiar and comfortable on my own so I part ways with Art and John. The shops I want to poke into are of no interest to them and visa versa. We agree to meet at 11:30 A.M. at the every present Starbucks. We meet and Art leads us down a side street to his favorite hole in the wall for lunch. A half dozen tables line the wall of the tiny noodle restaurant. There is no glossy menu to order from, just simple drawings of the “sets” posted on the wall. I can’t say the food is memorable, but it is ample and cheap.

After lunch we wander down Heiwadori Street on a quest for freshly baked sweet bean fish. (a pastry in the shape of a fish with a sweet bean filling.) Heiwadori means “Peace Street” and is a long covered market with hundreds of tiny shops, street venders and narrow alley ways. As we exit John spies a beetle vender and is immediately enthralled. He REALLY wants one. These are the horned rhinoceros beetles that are several inches long. There are several species to choose from. I am not sure how I feel about adopting a beetle, but I think it may be an option once we move into our apartment. John is excited and talks nonstop about this for the rest of the afternoon. Should we allow him to buy one, John has already chosen the name, Frackasaurus. “Frack” will not be able to return home with us so one of the prerequisites to all of this is that John find a future home for his beetle when we leave.

Takaaki picks us up at Heiwadori Street and drives us to the internet café. There is a “Pet Box” a block away so John and I go there while Art and Takaaki drink iced coffees. Pet Box is the Japanese equivalent to Pet Smart except that our local Pet Smart doesn’t have rhinoceros beetles for sale. John browses all the accessories available for purchase to house and feed his future beetle. We return to the cafe and decide that Art will go with Takaaki to sign the rental agreement for our apartment while John and I walk back to our Super Hotel via the skate park. I sit under a tree while John skates, pull out my book and begin to read. The skating is short lived since John refuses to wear his helmet and we get into our first serious argument of the trip. We leave the park and walk back in silence. Actually, I am silent while John tells me exactly what he thinks about my rules. We sit on the curb in front of the hotel and “discuss “our differences. Fortunately neither one of us ever stays mad for long and we return to the skate park an hour later. This time John wears his helmet while on the half pipe but continues to test me when he is on flat pavement.

We catch a cab back to Heiwadori Street in the evening. We have been offered the use of a friend’s cell phone and we plan to have dinner downtown at the same time. John is hungry and impatient with our search of the perfect restaurant. I am determined to choose a restaurant quickly and within a few minutes we decide to gamble our luck on an upstairs tonkatsu restaurant. From street level it looks quite charming but when we enter we discover that we are the only patron which is never a good sign and the menu is all in Kanji. There are no glossy pictures to choose from so Art translates as best as he can. We each order a different type of tonkatsu. Tonkatsu is basically a wiener schnitzel and is a specialty in Okinawa. It’s served with a thick sweet steak sauce somewhat like Worcestershire sauce. Art and I share a small heated flask of sake. Dinner is excellent.

Home Sweet Home

Our morning routine at the Super Hotel is becoming less super each day. We pack after breakfast and spend time on our computers until we must leave for the 10:00 A.M. cleaning crew. We have three hours to kill before Mitsuro will come to help us move into our apartment. The weather is changing and the morning is very breezy. Art goes to find out about the cost of minutes for our borrowed cell phone and I want to buy Valentines and so John and I walk to the “Naha Main Place” mall where I choose a few tiny Valentines. I have looked for Valentines for the past three days but apparently Valentines only come in a mini size. Traditionally the women give the men chocolate on Valentine’s Day and it is the candy that is most important. We still have more time to pass so John and I walk over to Toy’s ‘R Us. Although there are some amusing and unusual action figures, this huge box store is generally boring. We reconnect with Art who suggests we find a place to eat some zenzai. Zenzai is shaved ice with sweet azuki beans. Special zenzai’s are served with pieces of fresh fruit and tiny mochi balls. Today’s mall version leaves much to be desired. I’m afraid I am coming down with a cold. My throat is sore and I feel hot and light headed. I am grateful to be sitting and drinking hot tea. I watch the boys consume their icy treats.

Mitsuro arrives early to help us move. John and I sit in the parking lot of our Super Hotel while Art and Mitsuro make the first trip to our new apartment. There isn’t room in the van for all of the luggage and all three of us. 30 minutes later Mitsuro is back to pick John and me up and take us to our new home. The apartment looks better than it did two days ago. It has been cleaned until it sparkles and most every possible necessity has been provided. I was not expecting that dish soap, sponges, shampoos and soaps, irons and hair dryers, paper towels and toilet paper, towels and laundry baskets etc. would be included in the “furnished” price. The apartment manager even offers to let me switch the kitchen table from the apartment next door into ours. It is a simple rectangular wood table with 4 straight back chairs that will make a perfect work space. Mitsuro drives us to a nearby market. The breeze has blown in a weather front and it’s pouring rain! At the market Art and I each take a mini sized shopping cart and fill it with basic staples to set up our kitchen. I spend the afternoon unpacking and settling in.

Takaaki picks us up at 6:00 P.M. We are going to dinner at Aniya. We ate there in April and it was a marvelous dining experience and tonight is almost as good. We remove our shoes and place them in cubbies along the side wall. The tables are low, Japanese style, but the floor is cut away under the table for our legs. Takaaki has called ahead and they have his “Keep” bottle of awomori on our reserved table. Beside his bottle of awomori is a pitcher of water with lumps of charcoal inside for purification. Beside it is a bucket of ice. Aniya’s is a Japanese “tapas” restaurant and Takaaki orders small plates for us that we share. We start with marinated pieces of Japanese Eggplant and another dish of marinated tako. (Octopus.) A salad plate with paper thin strips of pork is next, followed by two different chicken dishes and finally a tempura platter with an assortment of shrimp, scallops, bamboo shoots, scallions, and mackerel. John orders a grapefruit moose for dessert and Art has a crème brule. Half way through the dinner Takaaki mixes drinks from his bottle of Awamori. Aniya is a hidden gem with mindful, gourmet food. The dinner for the four of us is 12,500.yen; about $110.00. Remember that in Japan this includes taxes and service. Takaaki tells us that he has ordered a daiko taxi and apologizes that he will not be driving us home. A daiko taxi is a “drunk driving” taxi. Driving under the influence is not tolerated in Japan and it is common to call this special taxi service after just one or two drinks. Two drivers arrive in the daiko taxi. One driver drives you and your car home while the other driver follows behind in the taxi. Takaaki drives off in his daiko and we catch a regular taxi home.

Internet Crisis

Saturday, February 10^th.

It’s good to wake up in our own place. I sip cold tea and write last nights blog. We don’t have internet in our apartment so we load our computers into our backpacks and set out to walk the 20 minutes to an internet café. We arrive there just after 9:00, order our coffees and find a corner of the café to call our own. Art’s wireless works perfectly, but mine is somehow disabled. I stay calm, but I am pretty stressed out over this situation. I am wired on coffee but my wireless is dead. Art spends the next hour trying to solve this dilemma while I walk to find a pay phone to call home; at least my phone card work.

Two hours later we leave the café and hike back towards our apartment. We stop at Pet Box again to look at the Rhinoceros Beetles and eat a mediocre lunch at a strip mall restaurant. The day is deteriorating rapidly. 35 years ago I might have looked cute when I backpacked through Europe, but I feel self conscious and discouraged today.

Art has been looking for a bicycle for me these past three days so after dropping our back packs at our apartment we walk in the other direction to buy a bike. $160 later, I ride a folding Newton home.

Tadashi arrives at 3:00 P.M. with the solution to my internet connection. He drives us to a business that sells special wireless cards. John and I wait patiently for over an hour as Art and Tadashi work with the salesmen trying to install the card into my computer. It doesn’t work. Next Tadashi drives us to our local strip mall to help me purchase denatured alcohol. If my computer doesn’t work, I want to at least have fuel for my alcohol lamp so that I can begin to carve waxes. Tadashi has been of great help this afternoon but he is a brand new father and we know he needs to get home so we tell him we will do some grocery shopping and walk home. (Did I mention that we are carrying our backpacks with our computers again?) We are all tired, indecisive and cranky. We buy some prepackaged salads and sashimi for dinner, walk home, and as I type this are spending our first night together in our new apartment. Art is watching bad Japanese television and John is doing Algebra homework. I hope that tomorrow holds something more exciting to write about.

Sunny Sunday

My throat was on fire during the night but my hoarse voice disappears with my first cup of coffee brewed in our very own apartment. Art loads my computer into his backpack and takes off by bicycle for the internet café. He is hoping to get me connected at last. He returns an hour later with three days of my e- mails downloaded. A bouquet of flowers chocolate or champagne couldn’t have made me any happier! We still can’t connect at our apartment but I am able to answer important messages that I can send later at the café.

Mid morning John, Art and I ride our bicycles back over to the internet café. John does homework diligently, while Art installs a Japanese Font onto my computer so that the internet card he wants to buy may finally work for me. Tadashi is picking us up at 1:00 P.M. to take Art back to the company that supplies these cards. Tadashi arrives promptly and we all pile in his small Honda. John and I are dropped off at the head of Kokusai Street while Art goes with Tadashi to get the internet card. It’s a beautiful lazy Sunday and Kokusai Street is blocked off to traffic. This is the first time I have been on Kokusai Street when there isn’t traffic and everyone is out strolling and enjoying this beautiful sunny Sunday. A crowd gathers around a juggler and tables are set in the street where families are eating and watching the parade of people. A pair of shamisen musicians gathers another crowd and I take photos of an elderly man in the crowd dancing happily to the traditional Okinawan music.

Our main purpose in coming to Kokusai Street is for John to look at the beetles in the market place again. We turn into the covered Heiwadori market, in search of lunch and beetles. The plastic food in the restaurant window is looking very monotonous 6 days into our trip and this may be the first time I have gone into a local restaurant without Art, but we must eat. The menu has no pictures so I motion the waitress outside and point at the two “sets” that John and I want. John orders a large bowl of soba with Okinawan pork. I order an eggplant and tofu stir-fry. I choose this in an attempt to eat something healthy but it is swimming in oil and there are pieces of spam mixed in. I am not surprised by the spam since spam is an Okinawan favorite that we have encountered in many dishes, but it is not my favorite. I push the spam to the side and pick cautiously at the contents of my bowl. We pay the 1,390 yen for our two lunches. ($12.00) and continue down the market in search of beetles. At the next fork in the market John spots the beetle stand and the merchant is kind enough to take the little “buggers” out of their plastic enclosures for John to admire. I take quite a few photos.

We decide to walk home, but are not completely certain which direction to walk. John suggests we follow the canal. The monorail runs high above the canal. We head in the direction that we hope is the Shintoshin station. After walking for 30 minutes I realize that we are going in the opposite direction. We get our bearings and wander back home in the late afternoon sunlight. (Dear Daddy, I know you are grimacing as you read this. I promise that next time I will take a map with us on our excursions.)

When John and I get back to our apartment I see my computer set on the table and it has internet connection!!! Art’s bicycle is gone, a good indication that he is out riding and enjoying the afternoon.

Deciding on dinner is often a challenge, but tonight we walk to the top of the hill and stop in at the first restaurant we find. It’s a small 10 table “steak” house and it’s very busy; a good sign. The décor leaves much to be desired, but the menu looks good and I really don’t want to walk back to the Shintoshin district tonight. Dinner is surprisingly good; not anything that I would recommend in a guide book, but it includes soup, salad and desert and the filets are flavorful, tender and wrapped in bacon. The total bill for the three of us is $3,600 yen; about $32.00.

As I type my blog tonight, Art and John are watching Romancing The Stone. It’s funny to hear “Jane Wilder” speaking in Japanese. I hope some of the language rubs off on John.

Biking for Beetles

Art takes off on his bicycle early to get a hair cut and to pay for the internet wireless card that he “purchased” for me yesterday. I am able to connect to the internet thanks to this amazing card but yesterday Art wasn’t certain that it would work in our apartment and Willcom allowed him to take the card home and try it before paying. (Art just told me that Tadashi “signed” for him, but this company preferred that Art make sure it works first, rather than issue a refund.)

Shortly after noon the three of us take off by bicycle following Hwy 58 N. in search of a shop that supposedly sells Rhinoceros beetles. The weather is perfect. The skies are bright blue and there is a cool breeze. The temperature is about 75 and there is no haze or smog. Peddling along the sidewalks paralleling Hwy. 58 is not scenic, but it is interesting as we ride between one city and the next. We take a break to walk on the snow white sands of Tropical Beach by the Okinawa Convention Center in Ginowan. The Yokohama Stars, a professional Japanese baseball team are doing their winter training on the sand. I have my first chance to dip my feet into the clear turquoise waters. I think we should go to the Zamami Islands tomorrow and take advantage of this incredible weather.

We continue riding north along the busy highway stopping at several pet stores and garden shops that carry beetles. At each stop, Art inquires about other stores that might have beetles. We peddle on and on. All that we can find is beetle larva. There are several places that have the Rhinoceros Beetles, but they are still in larva state. I am trying not to be squeamish, but this larva is about 4” long, seemingly translucent and with leg “buds.” They will mature in May or June. John is very disappointed.

Around 4:30 P.M. we turn around and peddle back towards home. We stop at Urasoe City and call Tadashi. He and his wife Shoko live near by and we find that we are invited to his parent’s home for dinner. We have stayed with his parents on other trips, but I was not expecting this and I am hot and tired and wish that I had with me, the small gifts that I brought from home. We always feel welcome here. We meet Tadashi’s and Shoko’s new baby, Rinka, for the first time. He is 2 ½ months old and beautiful! Holding Rinka makes me miss my grand daughter, Molly, all the more. We sit on the floor and eat small dishes of freshly cooked vegetables, homemade soup, homegrown potatoes and spam. I am very much at home, very full and very tired. After dinner and much conversation, Tadashi loads our bicycles into his father’s van and drives us home to our apartment.

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.

Rainy Day Valentine

We wake up to grey skies and rain. The weather matches our under the weather state of health and demands little of us. Art is now sick, but a day behind in the symptoms. He grimaces when I tell him he that he will feel worse tomorrow. I doubt if John will escape this bug but remains healthy so far. We spend a quiet morning in our apartment writing, doing homework and sending e-mail.

Last night was John’s first night with the beetles in his room and he tells me that they were really annoying. Apparently they are nocturnal and Frack kept pinching at a flange of plastic inside his cage and made a clicking sound all through the night. Frick scratched on the inside of her cage until John finally got up and threw some clothes over their cages. Nevertheless, John still seems to love his beetles and at this very moment is holding Frack and admonishing him gently for disturbing his sleep.

Art reads about a senior graduation art exhibition at the Ryukyu Arts University. It’s quite a distance to the Shurijo district and between our health and the rain a taxi seems to be in order. Our taxi driver is talkative and he converses with Art switching between English and Japanese. The streets are wet from rain and we pass through districts unfamiliar to me. It’s lovely to be speeding along in our taxi bubble. The rain lets up when we get to the University and we spend nearly two hours looking at the student exhibition. The show is spread between various rooms and exhibition halls and the art is remarkably good. John gets into it and has some good comments and asks good questions.

The University is below the Shuri Castle in the oldest and most picturesque part of the city. Art chooses a charming restaurant for our Valentines Day lunch. It is 2:00 P.M. and we are dining late. We remove our shoes and place them in covered cubbies before stepping up into the restaurant. The restaurant is an old, single story house with the traditional tile roof and open beam ceilings. Tatami mats cover the floors and shoji screens divide the rooms and open onto a lush and serene garden. The gravel in the garden is raked to perfection. There are no glossy pictures on the calligraphied menu and no plastic display food to choose from. Art does his best to translate the minimal menu. He orders me a tofu champuru (a mix of tofu and vegetables) and himself a bowl of soba with Okinawa pork. Our meals are delivered on simple trays with additional bowls of miso soup, cold seaweed noodles, rice and pickled vegetables. All is mindful and delicious. John has eaten three “American corn dogs” earlier and just nibbles off of our plates. Our two meals are only 1,750 yen or about $15.00.

I am feeling considerably worse but the misty day is beautiful and we take our time walking in the gardens below Shuri Castle. There are few people out today and we have the park almost to ourselves. We wind our way slowly down an old stone walkway that will eventually lead us back down to the bustle of modern Naha. The stonework is all hewn from Okinawan limestone. Stylish Mansions are on either side of the ancient stone street. We take a side path and find ourselves in an utaki. An utaki is a “spirit place,” a small, sweet and magical spot. This one is tucked behind several hillside mansions and there is a small grove of huge akagi trees (Bishofa Javanica) dripping with the morning’s rain. Sections of an old stone pathway and stone wall frame this magical spot.

We arrive at the bottom of the walkway and search for a post office and grocery store. It’s nearly 5:00 P.M. and both Art and I are feeling drained. We know that once we get back to our apartment we won’t want to leave to go out to dinner even if it is Valentines’ night. We take a taxi home and Art tells John that we will try to rent a movie for us to watch this evening. Art and John ride bicycles to the nearbye Tsutaya, a bookshop, music and video store in the Shintoshin district. They manage to sign up for a Tsutaya video card and return with two movies, Zoolander and Lost. We watch Zoolander with Japanese subtitles. Tadashi comes over at 8:00 P.M. with two cell phones for us. He has added us to his cell phone plan and we will pay him accordingly.

In spite of feeling poorly, today was a lovely day. I turn in but Art and John stay up and watch an episode of Lost. I hope I feel better in the morning.

l

A Work Day

I wake slowly and I can tell the worst of my cold is behind me. I finish yesterday’s blog and work on Marty Magic business from half way around the world. My daughter, Alisha is doing the hands on work, but I am connected to the day to day questions and there is a lot to do today.

By 11:00 A.M. I am at work carving new dragon waxes to wrap around the gemstones that I recently purchased at the Tucson Gem and Mineral show. My work space still isn’t ideal, but I spend a productive three hours and am happy to be back in the groove. I am working on two dragon designs at once. One dragon will be cast in sterling silver and wrap around a triangular piece of chrysocolla druze quartz. The other dragon will be cast in 18K gold and be the guardian dragon around a most spectacular piece of Arizona fire agate.

During the morning and into early afternoon, Art works on his web site, Okinawa.com while John reads his novel and I carve wax. Shortly after 2:00 P.M. we ride our bicycles up to the Shintoshin district to eat lunch and we once again run into our usual dilemma. John wants to eat at McDonalds, I am craving protein and vegetables and Art wants to please us both. We end up at “Fresh Burger.” John whines that a soft drink and fries are not included in his meal. I order coleslaw and a side of chicken; not their forte. Art inhales a mediocre hamburger. We will not go there again.

After lunch, Art and John ride to return the rented videos and I go to the super market on my own. The majority of what is available are precooked, “deli” selections of salads, sushi, fried and marinated meats and sweets. All are arranged neatly in open refrigerated cases and packaged in the same way our meat selections are in the U.S. Each item is presented on a shallow Styrofoam or plastic tray and wrapped with clear plastic. The label is in the bottom right with the price per pound, and ultimately the cost of the package clearly marked. From previous experience, I know that most Okinawan kitchens are very small making elaborate dinners difficult to prepare. I surmise that because of this the supermarkets offer these vast arrays of prepared deli items. Everything looks fresh and tasty but can buy only what I can carry home in John’s backpack so choose my selections carefully, pay and peddle home.

I spend another two hours working on my dragon waxes before cooking dinner. I wash and cut the home grown potatoes and spinach given to us the other night. I sauté the potatoes in garlic and olive oil and then open a package of precut, marinated beef mixed with green onions. I add the meat to the potatoes, cook quickly and serve. John actually compliments me on my dinner, eating heartily and telling me that I cook much better in Japan. Whatever spices and marinade mixed with the packaged meat is the secret ingredient.

A little before 8:00 P.M. Art leaves for his Karate class. John watches the Japanese Version of “Do You Want to be a Millionaire?” in the company of his beetles. I am brave enough to hold the female, Frick, but am still too afraid to hold Frack. John is disappointed. Later John walks over to watch the karate class.