Marty Magic Travel

Shopping at Ryu Bo & Strolling Kokusai Street by Night

We awake to grey skies and light rain so it’s a good day to stay inside and carve waxes. Art takes off to an internet café for some time alone and to work on his web site. It’s Saturday and John lounges and watches Japanese T.V. I design a Mermaid and Wave ring around a piece of iridescent green Arizona Fire Agate. The premise to one of the television programs is a competition to see who can build the sturdiest stool without using any nails or glue? A dozen different competitors saw, wedge and pound together identical stools of wood. (This isn’t a 14 year old boy’s idea of exciting television and his running commentary is far better than the show and keeps me amused as I work.) After the stools are completed 4 VERY large men come upon stage, each taking a stool and climbing onto a “shaking platform” where they sit on the stools while the platform undulates back and forth. Most of the stools collapse and these “Sumo” men thud down upon the platform amidst the pieces of wood from the broken stools. This process of testing the stools is repeated several times over until only one stool remains unbroken. There is an enthusiastic round of applause and a winner is declared.

By 4:30 P.M. my shoulders and back ache and I quit work. I want to go to Ryu Bo Department Store but it’s still drizzling so we catch a taxi. Taxis are very reasonable. The starting meter rate is 4.50 Yen for the first 1.8 kilometers and about 170 yen for each additional kilometer. Tipping is not expected. We are dropped off at Ryu Bo and walk through the glass doors into a fashionable retail bubble. On the ground floor is the cosmetic and costume jewelry section and I inhale the aromas of expensive perfumes and beauty products guaranteed to make anyone look younger and more beautiful. We glide up the escalators up to the 8^th floor. Ryu Bo is the largest department store in Naha and I just want to browse. I have always been much more impressed by the retail displays in Japan and Okinawa than even in the finest shops back in the United States. Japanese packaging is an art in itself. Art wanders off to the book section but John stays with me. We peruse the baby clothes section with Molly in mind, but the price tags deter me. I buy several cards in the stationary sections and John plays an arcade game or two.

We reconnect with Art and walk outside and down Kokusai Street. Its dusk and the stores on this tourist street will be open late. The street is bustling with pedestrians enjoying the bright lights and the warm evening. In spite of the rain earlier, the temperature is in the mid 70’s and we stroll without sweaters or jackets. As in any tourist district, the restaurants on the main drag are overpriced and over hyped but half a block down a side street I spot a small establishment and peek through the lighted door. It looks charming and I would love to eat here, but it is not our habit to go into the first restaurant that we come to. We usually wander aimlessly for at least an hour until we are all so hungry and grumpy that anything will do. I paused three seconds too long in the doorway and the owner comes outside to invite us into his restaurant. There is a long bar overlooking the kitchen area where cast iron pans are sizzling over gas flames. There are only 4 Japanese style tables and three western style tables set along the other side. A wall is lined with bottles of awamori and the walls are papered with calligraphied celebrity autographs We are seated at a Japanese style table and the “Mamasan” is pleasant and helpful in taking our order. The food is simple Okinawan style, Okinawan soba, champuru, fish and pork. Art orders 5 plates for us to share and a small flask of awamori for the two of us. The décor is charming, the service fast, the food good and the prices reasonable. We wait less than 10 minutes for our table, but by the time we leave there is a crowd waiting outside for tables. I pick up a card as we leave and Art translates the name of this restaurant to beYunangi. The phone number is 098-867-3765.

We stroll leisurely down Kokusai street enjoying the warm night, the bright lights and being together.

Getting Lost in Sueyoshi Park

Today is overcast and there is a very slight drizzle. We had planned to take the ferry to Tokashiki Island, but islands are best visited on sunny days so we spend the morning inside working. At 11:00 A.M. Narumi, Art’s newly acquired Kanji and Japanese tutor comes to the house. She is gregarious with a big smile and I like her immediately. Art and Narumi sit at our kitchen table and she works with Art to help him read the newspaper and they converse in Japanese. John works diligently on several writing assignments and I work on completing my third original dragon pendant; this one wrapping around an fiery orange 8.75 carat Mexican Fire Opal.

It’s Friday, March 2^nd and we need to cash travelers checks again. Around 2:00 P.M. the three of us head to the monorail stopping first at a nearby bank. Going to an Okinawan bank is nothing like banking back home. Not all banks offer foreign exchange, but we get lucky and this one does. As soon as we enter, we are greeted pleasantly and asked what our business is? The “greeter” pulls a number from a machine, hands it to us and bows slightly. We are graciously motioned to sit down and wait. There are 5 rows of couches all facing a television screen suspended from the ceiling. Magazines and newspapers are available to read. Above each of the teller windows is a screen with lighted numbers. When it is our turn our number lights up above one of the “windows” and I am seated in an upholstered chair. Art stands beside me and fills out the required form while I sign traveler’s checks. We return to our couches and watch television until we are graciously called and motioned back to the chair opposite our teller. Our money is presented to us on a small tray, the receipt slid gently towards us. We are invited to count the money. Everyone bows, smiles and thanks us. We reciprocate bows, smiles and thank yous. This cycle continues until we have exited the bank.

We walk to the Monorail and Art purchases 3 one way tickets to the stop nearest Sueyoshi Park. The monorail is not a bargain for three traveling together. Our three one way tickets are 230 yen each. ($2.00 each.) I like the monorail; traveling high above the red tile roofs of the ancient homes and being level with the apartment balconies and windows. I like looking down on the rooftop patchwork. The city is gray today and by the time we arrive at the station it is drizzling lightly. I see the lush forests of Sueyoshi Park high on the next hill over. To reach the park we must first walk down into a residential district before climbing back up to the hillside park. It’s after 3:00 P.M. and Art and I have had little to eat today. We enter the park, but the stone pathway looms formidably up the hillside and we are too hungry to continue before eating something first. Two boys on bicycles point us in the direction of a soba shop. Although not memorable, our late lunch fuels us on and we return to the park with enthusiasm. The light rain adds to the atmosphere as we enter the overgrowth of this subtropical forest. Initially the limestone walkway is beautifully restored, but as we continue to climb the stones are broken and irregular, the forest’s vines and tendrils encroaching on the ancient pathway. Just steps away from the city we are in a magical and ancient forest. We continue to climb and come upon a formidable tomb. It is a “turtle back tomb,” some 60 feet square, pristine and with every stone of the wall and tomb intact and undisturbed. Moss grows from between the stones and I feel as if I am Indiana Jones discovering an ancient ruin. We haven’t seen another human since leaving the manicured park below. John and I want to climb to the shrine still further up the hillside, but Art is feeling queasy from lunch and turns back. Our meeting plans are not clear, but at this moment I think we all assume we will connect again within the next 15 to 20 minutes.

John is the proverbial explorer and there are many overgrown pathways to choose from. He encourages me to climb still further and we come upon several small and magical Utaki. The burnt remains of incense is wet upon the stones. John continues to climb and explore small natural caves weathered deep into the limestone veiled in the root and vine structure of the Aka trees. Our ultimate goal is the Shrine, but the pathway isn’t clear and we are about to turn back when I spot a glint of red through the foliage. We follow the slippery overgrown pathway and come upon the shrine. The wooden shrine is reconstructed but the steep stone stairway, wall and archway are ancient examples of Ryukyu Kingdom stonework. I climb the stairway to sit at the very top step of the shrine. I breath in the magic off the forest cascading below and beyond and gaze over the hazy city of Naha beyond. We haven’t encountered another soul for over an hour and I am ready to turn back but John discovers yet another overgrown stone stairway behind the shrine. He prods me onward and upward until we top the hill and emerge with a view of the other side of Naha. Dusk is settling in and I have tried to call Art’s cell phone, but it just buzzes busy. I am feeling anxious to reconnect and I tell John that we must hurry back down to the center of the park. Art is no where to be found so John and I wait near the playground area for another 20 minutes. Eventually my cell phone rings. Art is calling from a pay phone up at the entrance to the park. The battery on his cell phone died and he has all but organized a search party to find us. He has been imagining all sorts of mishaps that might have befallen us, from habu (a poisonous snake) to just plain getting lost. Admittedly we were exploring much too long, but with Arts phone dead my attempts to connect were useless.

We take a taxi home and we pay about the same as we would for three tickets on the monorail.

Shikinaen Royal Garden & Spirit Graveyard

We wake to another clear and sunny day. In an effort to chase the Monday Blues away, Art suggests a bicycle ride to the Shuri Castle district. I love that area but suggest we ride to Shikinaen Royal Gardens instead. It’s within Naha, one of the 9 World Heritage Sites on Okinawa, and John and I have never been there. After surveying the map, Art leads the way. Our map doesn’t show elevation and I can tell that Art is concerned that the gardens might be at a high elevation. The three of us set out and it’s a lovely “ride” even the last part where I push my bicycle up a seemingly endless roadway. At the start of the steepest incline, John peddles fast and calls back to me “challenging” me get my ”f** a**” back on the bike and ride. Within 50 feet he too is pushing his bike up the hill. I have been the tortoise in this bicycle “race” of ours. Mostly it’s easy and fun, but when the going gets steep, I put my feet firmly on the ground and walk.

Entrance into this World Heritage Site is 300 yen each and we step into a lush and historic botanical garden. We have the gardens mostly to ourselves. We wander the manicured paths under overhanging gajumaru trees. Vines and tendrils drip down from the trees reaching the root structure and it is difficult to determine roots from vines. Ancient Ryukyu lime stone walls define the pathways and dappled sunlight shimmers on the stone path under the shaded canopy of trees. Central to the garden is a large pond with two stone bridges built out to a small island in the center of the pond. A rokkaku-do, a hexagonal gazebo is the focal point of the island. Unfortunately the wisteria is not in bloom but the garden is beautiful, serene and genuine. Koi fish, carp and turtles glide inches below the water’s surface. We stroll away from the pond, back into the lush growth within the garden when John loudly exclaims and points to a spot low on a tree trunk. A split second later I spot the 8” long emerald green lizard. John has my camera and leaps over the railing to take numerous shots of this jeweled lizard but the lizard is camera shy and scurries off into the foliage. Minutes later John spots one of his relatives camouflaged in the grass on a steep embankment. John does chase and catches it. He has the lizard in a firm grip and the lizard does his best to bite John, but John quietly assures his reptilian friend that he will not be eaten and the lizard settles down for a photo shoot. To John’s dismay, and the lizards relief we will not allow John to take him home to join his menagerie.

We visit the Udun Palace within the gardens, a recreation of the formal wooden house that was originally constructed at the end of the 18^th century. This house was a second residence for the Ryukyu Royal family members and foreign guests. We remove our shoes and walk soundlessly along polished wooden floors and are able to experience the tatami rooms with their shoji screen walls, the rustic kitchen and even the bathrooms emptying over the pig sty’s.

Once again it is a breeze, literally, to bicycle home and we stop for lunch along our route. Lunch is not particularly good, but the matronly owner takes a liking to John and after he orders his second “American Hot Dog” she brings him an unexpected complimentary plate of cold spaghetti with a cold salsa sauce. John is already full, but realizes he must eat this gracious offering and does so smiling.

I take leave of the boys at the Heiwadori Market Place. There are a couple of special birthday’s in March and I want to shop for gifts. I know this covered market labyrinth well but have seldom been here on my own. I am looking especially disheveled today, sweaty, with helmet hair and my green folding Newton Bicycle in tow. It’s only when I catch a glimpse of myself in a shop window or mirror that I feel my age, but alone here in the narrow side alleys of the market I realize that I am an oddity. I retrace my path to my favorite tiny shops and then stumble upon an alleyway between two alleys. I carefully walk my bicycle along this narrow space crowded close and between the back sides of two market streets. I pop out into an open area with a half dozen small tables; all occupied by what I surmise are the owners, friends and employees of the shops bordering this space. I feel as if I have stepped into a party uninvited as heads turn in my direction. I smile and nod and wish to be invisible.

I don’t find what I am looking for on my shopping trip so I bicycle back tired and deflated. My web site is still down. I am emotionally down.

Just above our apartment on the hillside dropping down to the fish market is a cemetery. John and I began to explore it last night, but we were spooked away when we turned a narrow and overgrown path and saw a homeless encampment amidst one of the large tombs. John and I backtracked through the labyrinth of tombs and we found a spot where we could watch the sunset. We could see the Zumami Islands silhouetted grey, as the sun dipped vermillion red below the horizon.

Tonight I ask Art if he will walk with me up to this cemetery to watch the sunset? The pathway begins just steps away from our apartment. Art leads the way and we wind a narrow and overgrown path through the tombs and startle the homeless man who sits reading in the late afternoon sunlight. Art greets him with an assured “konichiwa.” and we walk past. The city disappears and we are suddenly in a wild and spirit filled place. Nature has taken over and vines and lush foliage encroach upon the tombs and two small limestone caves are gaping open. Art asks me if I want to climb up and look inside? We scramble a short 10 feet up and look into the opening of two graves? There are 5 or 6 large, broken and cracked. earthenware jars. Art surmises that these might have once contained bones. I am amazed that these artifacts are still present and as intact as they are.

We retrace our steps back past our “friends” encampment. Art clears his throat and the man looks up from his reading and asks Art if he speaks Japanese? When Art responds in the affirmative, a lengthy discussion enthuses about following a spiritual path. When Art is finally able to tear us away from the conversation, Art observes that he might be more inclined to believe this man’s path if his housekeeping were better. The clutter of bottles and debris in this man’s house was quite offensive.

Art and I walk a pathway out to the edge of the cliff. We step up onto the wall of a tomb. The sun is close to setting and the smooth curve of the highway overpass glistens above the industrial harbor. In the midst of this tightly urban place, there are sweet spots; one just needs to notice them. The sun sets in a pale glow, the Zamami Islands backlit grey against the horizon.

Monday Okinawan Blues

It’s Monday and I’m feeling disconnected and lonesome. My web site has been down for a week and my e-mail crashed three days ago. Living in Okinawa is really quite lovely and we have a nice little apartment by the harbor to call home. Art is being especially kind and patient, but I’ve always been extremely independent and to now be so dependent on him is difficult for me. The internet and my Marty Magic Web Site give me daily ties to family, friends and my business back home. It gives me connection and a sense of control.

So today I focus hard on finishing my second one of a kind dragon wax. This dragon entwines and protects a triangular piece of Druzy Chrysocolla. I was going to cast it in sterling silver, but I have so many hours invested in it and I think I will cast it in 18K gold. I hope that one day soon my web site will be back up and I will be able to post a photo of this piece along with a photo of the wax original I created last week of the Guardian Dragon wrapping around a Fire Agate.

Art and John are out much of the day while I work on waxes. I listen to Earnest Hemingway’s, A Farewell to Arms. Listening to this book on tape most likely contributes to my melancholy mood. The narration is wonderful and I am lost in concentration meticulously creating dragon scales to this classic and tragic love story.

At 7:00 P.M. the three of us walk out to dinner. John skateboards along side of us but his board gets away from him and propels itself into traffic on Highway 58. John has enough sense not to lunge after it, and the oncoming car slows and inches over the skateboard without smashing it. The consequences for this is that John must carry, not ride his board. At 14 John challenges everything and the three of us bicker all the way to dinner. Did I mention that the weather has been lovely all day and tonight is delightfully balmy?

Tonight’s destination is a particular restaurant that we passed several days back. Art leads us along a labyrinth of streets towards Kokusaidori and we find the restaurant two blocks off the main avenue. It glows invitingly and we are not disappointed with the food or the ambiance. Our waiter is not particularly helpful and Art struggles to translate the kanji menu., but Art chooses several of the nightly specials and all are excellent. Art drinks “sours,” I drink sake and John drinks cola. Dinner is a splurge at $55.00 for the three of us, tax and tip inclusive.

Sated, we are again a happy family and catch a taxi home.

Starbucks Sunday 2– Video Arcade

We still have Tadashi’s car and in keeping with our new Starbucks Sunday tradition, we drive to the Shintoshin Starbucks inside the Naha Main Place Mall. I take a laptop computer along and we settle ourselves at a table by a wall outlet. As we sip our high octane drinks, I blog while Art and John practice kanji. March 3^rd is the Hina Matsuri, or Doll Festival and as in retail establishments world wide, the mall is decorated to promote this festival. When I tire of typing, John and I wander into the mall and check out the “Doll Festival Displays.” Table top glass “shadowboxes’” of Emperor and Empress Dolls are available for sale. As I understand it, this festival is for “girls” and historically was an excuse to celebrate when children often died young and everyone tolled the land. Many households display these glass encased miniature dolls in the weeks leading up to the festival in the same way that one might put up a Christmas tree. The price tags on these displays range from a couple of hundred dollars to two thousand dollars. The montages are beautiful and elaborate.

Time gets away from us. We have 1:00 P.M. plans to meet with Hatori, Mitsuro and Asahi, cousins of Art’s. Art telephones them at 12:30 and we postpone our meeting until 2:00 P.M. This morning I dressed hurriedly and now I feel the need to be more presentable before meeting with them. I annoy and frustrate Art and John by insisting that we go home so I can change. At 2:00 P.M. we are back at the mall for our rendezvous’. We meet at the noisy, vibrating, Video Arcade inside the mall. Asahi (13 years old) and John (14 years old) play shooting and driving arcade games. Art and I resign our selves to feeding 100 yen coins into these hungry machines for the next hour. Asahi’s mother, Hatori, is feeding the machines as well and takes me by the elbow and directs me into a photo booth where she pushes buttons, lights flash and ultimately a glossy photo pops out of us. This takes me back to being 13 years old on the Santa Monica Beach Boardwalk. A section for over 18 years old only adjoins the video arcade. Pachinko machines flash and “ping” most machines occupied by mesmerized players.

It is a grey and drizzly “Starbuck Sunday” so we might as well spend the day inside the mall indulging in retail therapy and this bright artificial “arcade bubble.” By 3:30 P.M. we are all hungry so we exit the mall, John “slip sliding” on the wet sidewalks and cross over to a restaurant for a bite to eat. Asahi doesn’t skateboard and John shows off, skateboarding on the slick sidewalks without a board. The restaurant has the easy glossy picture menus of a “formula” chain. I choose the “healthy” chicken and my entrée tastes too good to be healthy. We have brought a few gifts along and John gives Asahi a game of Tangos. The two boys play several hands of this “card” game and soon the adults are trying to solve the geometric puzzles. As Art pays the bill I notice that for sale beside the register are 18”tall pressurized cans topped with Donald Duck heads. To my amusement and amazement I discover that they are helium filled cans for kids to inhale and talks like a duck. Weird!!

Art needs to return Tadashi’s car and hurried arrangements are made in Japanese for John and I to go to the supermarket with Hatori and Asahi.We are finished our shopping in 30 minutes, but we need to wait over an hour more before Mitsuro will return to pick us up and drive us back home. With plastic grocery bags in tow we wander the electronic section of the mall. The exercise section of this store is packed with Sunday afternoon browsers. There are 12 different brands of massage chairs all of them are occupied by extremely relaxed potential customers. Each chair has a coin slot and for 100 yen one can test one for 15 minutes. Adjoining is an array of exercise machines. I have never seen the” horse style” machines that are straddled like a horse. Various programs can be chosen and your steed will perform at your desired level of exertion. There is a waiting line for the vibrating “diet” machine. I am amazed by the array of blood pressure machines, scales and foot massagers to choose from! We flow into a section with electronic keyboards and pianos and Asahi and John flip switches and play the instruments. At Hatori’s request a composed young sales women sits at an expansive key board, flips switches and adeptly plays the melody line to accompany an artificial background orchestration. Although I am not impressed by the piano, I am impressed at her grace and composure as families browse the instruments and their children play ear shattering arrangements.

Hatori’s cell phone rings; Mitzuro is waiting in the parking garage. We take the escalator up to the 4^th floor, pile into his tiny van and are chauffeured home. It’s after 6:00 P.M.

My Marty Magic Web Site and e-mail are still down.

The Onna Coast lies on the East China Sea and stretches from Yomitan to Nago. This pristine and breathtaking stretch of coastline is home to the finest beach front resorts on mainland Okinawa.

Tadashi arrives at our apartment a little after 10:00 A.M. He is lending us his Honda for our day trip. Art drives and Tadashi supervises Art’s first foray onto this reversed system of traffic flow, signage and turns. John makes wise cracks from the back seat expressing doubt in his Papa’s ability to navigate the mirror image traffic system. We stop at a small pastry shop and pick up some morning buns and Tadashi drives the few final twists and turns to his apartment. Tadashi’s and Shoko’s upstairs apartment is sunny, small and tidy. Shoko makes coffee and serves the drinks and morning pastries on their low table. We meet Johnny, their timid calico cat, and I sit on the couch and look at their two thick wedding albums. The first album is filled with many wonderful candid photos of the wedding party as well as formal shots of the ceremony, performed in a Western style wedding chapel. Shoko is breathtakingly beautiful and Tadashi so very handsome. They change wedding attire three times during the wedding. Shoko wears a frothy white wedding dress and Tadashi, a tuxedo for the chapel ceremony. Following the chapel ceremony they change into formal Japanese kimonos and then change a third time for the wedding “party;” Shoko wearing a brilliant red dress, low cut and trimmed with satin roses. When I open the second album of formal studio shots, tears well up in my eyes and Shoko hands me a Kleenex. I very much regret not being able to attend their wedding. Our daughter, Alisha’s wedding to Sterling was just last April and looking at these wedding albums brings all sorts of emotions to the surface.

It’s noon before we are on the highway heading towards the Onna coast. Art maneuvers the car cautiously but with switches reversed we tease him each time that he turns on the windshield washers when reaching for the turn signal. The weather is gorgeous, sunny and in the mid 70’s. The color of the ocean is that delicious tropical turquoise, deepening to a brilliant blue towards the horizon. Sea stacks jut from the water, each outcropping lushly covered with foliage. We pull over to explore a few beach resorts and coves. On our first stop, after descending a long set of cement stairs I realize that I have forgotten my dark glasses. The white coral sand is so brilliant that my eyes tear in pain. I step into the scrubby palms that shelter the beach to look for hermit crabs and shade my eyes. There are no hermit crabs but a littering of tin cans and bottles washed up and trapped in the roots of these lovely palms. As beautiful as this coastline is, it is marred by many engineered breakwaters of cement, stone and the enormous interlocking cement “jacks.” The engineers have even bridged some of natural sea stacks together with these
breakwater monstrosities. There are still sweet spots that are left natural, but between the luxury resorts and the seawalls, much of this coastline looks artificial.

We pull into the Moon Beach Resort and walk through their lobby and out onto their pristine beach. We don’t look at the rooms, but the cavernous lobby is outdated and the overall feel is a bit sad. It was one of the first beach resorts on Okinawa. The prices however aren’t outdated and I am surprised at the rate sheet. Even off season, mid week rates start at $175.00 for a single, including breakfast. An off season double room is about $200.00 and a triple is about $250.00 per night. During high seasons a double room will cost close to $500.00 a night. The hotel beach and grounds are beautiful and John would love to stay here for a few nights but to his disappointment we hop back into the car and meander further up the coastline.

We stop for lunch along a straight stretch of beach with many picturesque offshore island sea stacks. The tide is low and the stakes of a seaweed farm are protruding from the back lighted ocean. Our restaurant choice is a bad one but I will not make lunch the focus of today’s blog. After lunch we want to walk down onto the beach. It’s not easy to access the water but we maneuver up and over the highways’ unbroken steel railing, cross two opposing lanes of traffic, stride over a 50 foot expanse of geometrically arranged cement and stone, and walk down the dozen shallow steps of the seawall, to reach the tidal flats. At high tide, the water reaches up to the seawall, but at low tide the flats are exposed and the mucky sand is alive with minute sea snails. Shards of broken shells and worm casings lie exposed. All is a yellowish green and although not beautiful all is quite interesting.

Further north is the world class Busena Resort and Marine Park. The Busena Resort was the site of the 2001 G8 summit. We pull into the manicured grounds of the resort, the white sand and turquoise water shimmering in the afternoon sunlight. Architecturally the hotel is unimaginative and corporate, but the setting is breathtaking and the amenities more than likely first class. The resort is located on a land spit just south of Nago. The walkway to an underwater observatory extends some 300 feet out over the water and glass bottom boat rides embark dockside from a pier adjacent to the walkway. We buy the package; underwater observatory and glass bottom boat ride. Adult ticket prices are 2,000 yen for the combo, somewhat less for students and children. We descend the iron spiral stairway to the observation pod below. Portholes offer a view of a clear underwater world and we are delighted and disappointed at the same time. There are hundreds of Taman, schools of needle nose fish, several brilliant parrot fish, a smattering of colorful reef fish and one lone puffer. (I need to mention that we have recently snorkeled in the Galapagos Islands, the Zamami Islands, the Yucatan Peninsula, and Hawaii. 35 years ago I snorkeled along the Australian Great Barrier Reef.) My expectations may be unreasonably high. We climb back up the iron stairway to catch the 4:15 P.M. glass bottom boat ride. I am as fascinated by the whale shaped boat and the delighted children peering intently down into the viewing window as I am by the underwater world that we are gliding over. We see many fish, but very little live coral. We are delighted to spot several large anemones each hosting one or two clown fish.

We decide to return home tonight. We haven’t traveled much distance but the day has been full. Art retraces our route back down the coast but the traffic is slow and he decided to cuts inland to catch the toll Highway back to Naha. We zip along the toll road at close to 60 miles an hour. We reach Naha in less than an hour and Art navigates side streets back to our apartment only turning on the windshield wipers a couple of times!

My web site is still down.

Cherry Blossoms in Yogi Park

At noon, Art returns from his morning karate class. I’ve been working on waxes all morning, the day is clear and sunny and. Art suggests that we ride our bicycles to Yogi Park to see the cherry blossoms. Early in February, the Cherry Blossom Festival is held in Yogi Park but unfortunately we were in the midst of getting settled and missed the festival. For the past two weeks John has been riding a very used, mini folding bicycle. His wheelies and jumps have derailed the chain and all but destroyed the bicycle. We stop at our corner bicycle shop and buy John a folding Newton just like mine. John wishes for a more expensive, heavier duty bicycle, but we need him to choose a folding bicycle, so John is settles for the white version of the Newton. He does wheelies, rides down stairs and bounces off of curbs. We may be purchasing yet another bicycle before the end of this trip.

Our lunch stop is impromptu; a hip, amusing and odd “Dart Café.” It’s 1:30 P.M. and if there was a lunch rush, it is over. Again we are the only customers. The café is bright and small, a 15 foot bar on one side displays bottles of hard liquor as well as sodas. Several glass topped tables are centered between the bar and two electronic dart boards. Art orders us the advertised “set” lunches. We haphazardly throw darts while we wait for lunch and John and I scrutinize a tiny alcove where specialized dart sets are available for sale. I especially like the Alien and the Pirate dart sets for a mere 1,400 yen. ($12.00) John is intrigued by the (titanium?) weights that can be added to the shaft of the dart. The weight sets of 4 are cost well over $100.00 a set. The young and stylish bar tender/waiter delivers our lunch sets, beautifully arranged on small plates in a minimalist sort of French/Japanese style. John’s pasta defies gravity, piled higher than wide and topped with a sprinkling of mindfully arranged olives and diced tomatoes. Art and I order a pork and vegetable “set.” We expect a sir fry. Our small plates are delivered with a “bird nest” of shredded cabbage, (also defying gravity) a dab of potatoes salad and a small and very delicious portion of fatty pork morsels mixed with fresh vegetables. Miso soup and rice are served in separate side dishes. Ice tea accompanies all of our meals. Each of our “sets” is 650 yen and the total for the three of us is about $16.00 tax and tip included.

We bicycle to the park. The cherry blossom trees are in full bloom and line both sides of the canal. I am not the only person taking photos. I am amused by all the locals with their camera phones. A group of rest home patients, supervised by their nurses sit in the shade of the trees. In another part of the park, a group of artists are painting the cherry blossom trees and their instructor moves from one student to another critiquing the work. Most of the painters are older and John observes that this is probably a pretty good way to spend ones retirement. We are in the park an hour and as I take photographs, John races his bicycle over the bridges and does wheelies and spins near the patients in wheelchairs. If they remember his antics they are talking about him tonight!

Art leaves John and me at the park and rides off to meet a business contact. John and I bicycle a few blocks down a busy street turning off and back into the Tsuboya pottery district. I suddenly have my bearings and feel quite at home and delighted that Yogi Park is now part of my known territory. Art navigated our way to Yogi Park by an interesting and somewhat circuitous route, but the park is just a few blocks up from the covered Heiwadori market place. Our afternoon goal is to purchase John a pair of new shoes. His already well worn skate shoes are terminal; last nights “sidewalk skating” in the rain opened the holes in the soles and John was literally “walking on water.” We pop into the covered marketplace and John searches for size 12 shoes. It is hopeless and John suggests that he join the Abbott family and give up wearing shoes. (Dear Abbott family friends, I hope you are smiling as you read this?!)

We exit the market place via a side alley. John knows that I enjoy browsing in a small and beautiful dress boutique just around the bend and he tells me that we are not stopping there. Happily there is a shoe store just across from the boutique and John concedes that I may browse while he looks for shoes. Why is my son such a control freak? There are no shoes to fit John, but I find a beautiful cotton tunic that fits me. I am only able to put a deposit down on the tunic since we need our cash to purchase John’s shoes. Okinawa has a cash oriented economy. Even supermarkets do not take charge cards and only high end and chain stores accept credit cards. We exit the marketplace without finding shoes for John. John waits patiently as I walk back the labyrinth of covered stalls and pay in full for my tunic.

John and I power ride back to our apartment and arrive home a little before 5:00 P.M. My web site is still down. I work on waxes for awhile but when Art returns at 6:00 P.M. we bicycle out again in search for shoes for John. We ride up to the Shintoshin District and just off the main promenade is a huge Shoe “Box.” A “Box” is basically a large shop, usually a big chain store. The store is immense with every possible type of shoes for men and for women. It takes us nearly an hour, but we emerge triumphant with white, size 12 skate shoes for John. The light is fading when we leave the shoe store and we bicycle leisurely looking for a place to eat dinner. It’s Friday night and this fashionable district is a happening place, busy with pedestrians. Restaurants and shops glow invitingly. There are some very stylish and upscale restaurants that we would love to eat at, but bicycle “helmet hair” is most likely not the accepted attire. The mall, “Naha Main Place,” is buzzing with couples and families and we put our name on a waiting list at a Tonkatsu Restaurant. We survey the menus while we wait for a non smoking table. The Okinawan’s take their jobs very seriously. A gracious wait person comes outside and takes our order as we wait for a table. He has a computerized order pad and is sincere and meticulous in getting our order exact. Our table preference is of great concern to him. Do we want a Western Style table or a Japanese style tatami room table? We choose a Western Style table and our meal is served shortly after we are seated. The food is somewhat formula, but beautifully presented on the usual lacquered trays. We eat heartily, pay the most reasonable 4,600.yen check ($40.00) and bicycle home satiated and exhausted.

The weather here certainly differs from one day to the next. It is almost a relief waking to gray skies and drizzle. John is sick and and needs time to recuperate and I need some time to create new jewelry designs. Art has been going to Karate on Tuesday and Thursday nights, but this morning he goes to a 9:30 A.M. class at a different dojo. My morning routine always begins with e-mail and I discover that both my e-mail and website are down. I have some things to mail and walk to the post office and call home to inquire about my internet server. I am assured it will be up soon. I spend the afternoon working on a one of a kind dragon that will wrap around a piece of druzy quartz. John curls on the couch, crumpled Kleenex littering the floor and watches God Father Two. We recently discovered a nearby video rental store where the videos are 100 yen for a week. This translates to .80 cents for a movie for a week. The rates at the video rental in Shintoshin are many times more than this. If John were not sick there would not be an afternoon movie, but we take pity on his boredom and I remember that just this morning I mailed a fat packet of his home school work to his adviser back home.

At 5:30 P.M. the three of us walk uptown to Shintoshin, our goal being dinner at the Galleria Food Court and marketing on the way home. The Galleria is on the top floor of the upscale Duty Free Mall. It drizzles lightly as we walk. John is feeling better and takes running starts to slip and slide on the slick tile walkways. Two weeks ago we went to the Galleria Food Court and were confused and intimidated by the system and left without eating. Tonight it seems easy, affordable and not the least bit intimidating. It’s basically a food court with a lot of of attitude. We split up, each of us with a scan card and make our selections. I have a Thai curry over rice and fried fish with sweet vegetables. The fish concoction is too fishy, but the curry is good. Art orders Italian, and John goes for a Hamburger. Art has an 8:00 P.M. Karate class so we are pressed for time but we will eat here again when we have time to sit at leisure on the covered patio with a flowing stream and soak in the stylish ambiance. The rain is a bit heavier when we leave the Galleria. We walk to the nearest supermarket, one of three in a long strip mall in Shintoshin. We push our mini shopping cart along the aisles picking up several large bottles each of jasmine tea (Sanpin Cha) water, makings for tomorrow night’s dinner and two umbrellas. Between the rain and our heavy liquid load, we catch a taxi the mile back to our apartment. It’s about a $5.00 taxi ride. Art hurry s off to his 8:00 P.M.Karate class and I’m writing this not very excited blog of our day. My e-mail and web site are still down. Bummer!!

Mangroves, Mongoose and Black Face Spoonbills

We discover a mangrove wet land in the heart of urban Naha today! Rain was predicted for today but when we awake the skies are blue so we hop on our bicycles and head in the direction of the Manko wetlands. We ride south towards the airport, along Hwy 58, until we come to the Kokuba River and turn inland. Naha city planners have created a narrow but beautiful parkway for pedestrians and bicyclists along both sides of this waterway. The sleek monorail glides above Naha on the northern side and the park and quay follow the contours of the river on both sides. We come upon an immense cement crab facing the river shading a picnic table and picnic benches beneath its belly. We take a break and John climbs this 20 foot cement beast and I take photos. The crab is reminiscent of the huge cement dinosaurs that popped up in the U.S. during the 50’s and 60s’ intended to attract customers to “diners” and gift shops. I am delighted and amused by this riverside monument. Further on we come upon an outdoor “exercise area.” Sparkling metal and wood exercise equipment is stationed along the riverside. Art and John do sit ups and stretches. There is even an oval acupressure footpath with signs clearly instructing how to use the “bumpy nubs” on the path. An elderly man is barefoot and walks mindfully around the small oval footpath holding onto the stainless steel rail enclosing the path. A bit further on we arrive at the Manko Water bird and Wetland Center. This center is in the heart of urban Naha. The Highway contours one side and apartments and businesses encroach on the other. What used to be a natural lake is now mostly landfill. We park our bicycles and enter the center. We are one of two groups of visitors and we are greeted almost desperately by an extremely enthusiastic employee. The English version of their short 10 minute video will start soon but in the meantime the dossier shows John and me how to use a page scanner on the edges of certain bird books to produce the bird’s songs and warbles. This technology is something I have never seen before, even in world class museums, and John and I spend several minuets immersed and fascinated by it all. Upstairs is an observatory with a dozen high powered telescopes and we each choose one to scan the mangrove wetland below us.

It’s 1:00 P.M. and we are hungry so Art asks our “guide” where we might eat nearby? A minute later he hauls his bicycle outside and peddles ahead of us leading the way to his recommended lunch spot. We are in a neighborhood and he takes us to a tiny two table family owned restaurant. The place is no larger than my kitchen and there are a few paper “specials” stapled to the wall. Nothing here that costs more than 350 yen and the menu is extremely limited. The owner, woman about my age is behind the tiny counter and cooking at the two burner gas stove. Art translates our options and within minutes a plate of “Mexican” fried rice is set in front of me. Art orders shrimp friend rice and John orders a hot dog and toast. I’m desperate for protein and vegetables, but it’s as if I am in someone’s home so I eat every bite of the carbohydrate laden meal. For desert Art orders shaved ice for John and a sweet bean zenzai for himself. The woman puts ice cubes in an ancient machine that vibrates and rattles the small room. Shaved ice is the end product and John chooses three syrupy flavors to pour onto his pile of ice. The bill totals 1300 yen, ($10.50) including three small pies that Art purchases to go.

Next we bicycle to the Former Japanese Navy Underground Headquarters. I am not happy that these Navy headquarters are on the highest peak in Naha but when we finally achieve our destination, the view is tremendous. The day is still sparkling clear and sunny and I eventually catch my breath from the long ride up to the peak. After paying our entrance fees we climb hundreds of steps back down into the underground passageways of the Japanese headquarters during world war two. John is especially fascinated with the labyrinth of tunnels but over 200,000 people died in the battle of Okinawa, and I just feel sad. The resounding message here is the tragedy of war and the value of peace.

Our ride back down to Naha is a breeze, literally! Within minutes we are peddling past the wetland center and over the suspension bridge where we stop and look down onto the mangroves below. Its low tide and the marshy wetlands are exposed; mangrove roots, discarded bicycles, rubber tires and trash. The area is a strange mixture of rich natural habitat and encroaching urbanization. Gazing down from the bridge we spot a mongoose and a white heron. Overhead an osprey circles catching updrafts in the late afternoon. We find a stairway descending from the bridge down to the tidal flats but when I step onto the sand I start to sink. My fantasies of walking out into the mangroves will not be realized here. We begin bicycling home following the northern side of the river but stop abruptly when Art spots a lone black faced spoonbill in the wetlands below. There are less than 300 of these birds in existence and we watch for sometime as he “scoops and spoons” the liquid mud and sand in search of his evening meal. I take many photos and wish for a better lens on my camera.

We all arrive home at 5:00 P.M; exhausted. Yesterday, John started to feel sick and as today progressed John’s health declined. He now has what Art and I had a few days ago. I deposit John on the couch and peddle back out to the market with an empty backpack. I return with my backpack filled with groceries and cook dinner in our apartment. Art and John are watching a video as I type today’s bog. It’s been a lovely impromptu day!

I haven’t blogged for the past two days since I have been focusing on creating new jewelry designs and happily (or unhappily) the overcast weather has helped me to focus on my artistic talents. I’ve just finished carving my first wax creation in my temporary Okinawan studio. It’s a dragon guarding a beautiful fire agate that I purchased at the Tucson Gem and Mineral show. I use dental tools and heated wax pens to create my designs and the different colors of wax have different working properties. I don’t have a ruler, but the piece is about 1 3/4″ across and high. It will be cast in 18K gold and the golden dragon will guard this spectacular piece of Arizona Fire Agate. The price is still to be determined but will be somewhere between $4800 and $5600.

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