Running for Peace

Me and Chiye ready to protest

Saturday was the annual Okinawa Teacher`s Union anti-base pro-peace Marathon! Lets get it out of the way: this is where I found myself dashing past a solitary cherry tree. Ever since US military bases have been stationed on this tiny island, hundreds of teachers have come together (in teams of 20 from each school) to run an 18km relay-marathon around Kadena Air force Base each year.

Right: my buddies Matto and Shouta sensei gearing up

Yup, they want the bases to beat it. The fact that the base is 18km around its perimeter should give you an idea of how big Kadena is: plopped splat in the middle of the island, a vast span of undeveloped green fields in the heart of a sprawling city, surrounded by high fences and barbed wire. Signs line the fence in both English and Japanese: US military property. Warning, this perimeter is patrolled by guard dog teams. Or some such nonsense. I don`t live within sight distance of a base, so when confronted with one so close up, I wonder what the people who live here must feel. They walk these sidewalks along the barbed wire everyday. They hear the roar of JET engines soaring over their homes and schools, rattling the windows. Marines walk the streets among the Okinawans, Y-plate cars (US military personnel) are everywhere. Shops are labeled in English. What is it like to be Okinawan and live on this island, where 2 cultures have been forced to exist together, though barbed wire, skin color, and language keep them apart?

Below: running vests of one of the school teams.
For all Okinawans except the elderly, an unoccupied homeland is a dream they have never seen as reality, though they have heard stories from their parents or grandparents. If we count Japan's annexation of Okinawa as occupation (which I personally do), than there are no living Okinawans who can remember an independent Ryukyu nation. Okinawans are a peace-loving people, if there ever was one. This marathon is a form of non-violent protest again Okinawan occupation and US militarization.

I was flattered to be asked to run with Ginowan High`s relay team. I actually agreed to it by accident, but was flattered in after-thought. This one teacher whose name I don't know was talking to me in Japanese about marathons. Ive been running (that is, performing a feeble half hour jog) with a few teacher friends here who are training for the Okinawa marathon in February and I was positive that's what we were discussing. I'm nodding and looking engaged but really not understanding what he is saying, as usual. I realize suddenly that he had posed me a question. Uh... yes! I answer, with all the certainty I can bluster. And that's how I was assigned piece #8, distance 1km, of the Relay Marathon.

Above: a mother and daughter run together. The child`s vest reads something like, `as long as there are bases on Okinawa, our bright future will never come`

Well, come on, 1km. that's like .6 miles, I can jog that. Sweeeeet kinda marathon, I`m thinking. Oh no, Joy-su. My friend Shouko informs me. Dash-u desu yo. What? It`s a 1km DASH? You want me to DASH half a mile?! Yeeeeeeaaaaah they did.

So, on a bright and brisk morning last weekend, we all piled into the van at Ginowan High. Spirits are high, hearts are happy, and people seem to be looking forward to running. I, on the other hand, am tallying the scarce hours of sleep that I have gotten in the past 3 days on my 10 digits, rubbing my bleary eyes, and gulping caffeine like a mad woman on steroids. Though I had performed remarkably well at the practice marathon (we actually did an entire marathon in order to practice for the real one... so Japanese) on Monday, uncontrollable life events had deprived me of sleep and appetite that week, and my dashing performance was... less than spectacular on Saturday. Lucky for me no one really cared if we won, it was just about protesting. I began my dash feeling like things were going well. I passed the dude from team #18. Then about 10 guys passed me (I forgot to explain that I was running the kilometer reserved for 40-year-old men. Why was I placed here I will never know. That`s just how it goes in Japan). About 20 seconds into it I began to feel light headed. And soon thereafter this mantra was floating through my head:

I am Jack`s lungs, exploding inside him. I am Jack`s delusional state.

Mom, sorry you don't watch movies and cant get the quotes.

Right: 2 teachers from my school

Too bad for me that the last 300 meters of my lame little km were uphill. At this point I was moving at a stumbling fast-walk, sounded like I was having an asthma attack, and had Matto-sensei riding his motorcycle along side me, shouting a constant stream of encouragement in Jenglish. I literally stopped moving and tossed the baton to the next sensei at the finish line. And fell asleep 5 minutes later in the van. The moral of this story is 1. never let yourself get out of shape or you will die 2. don't answer yes when you don't understand the question. Last-o: try to sleep before a marathon.

Below you see our entire group including many who didn't run but who were there for moral support. Every one was informed of my near death, and by Monday morning every teacher was coming up to me in the hall and saying: good job joyce! are you ok?!?

The great thing about this marathon is that every year, the teachers who are retiring in March come and run. So it doubles as a farewell celebration for those guys, who have given like 40 years of their lives to teaching in Okinawa. Below you see the team tossing a Ginowan High retiree in the air with three cheers. Despite near death, it was a merry day indeed.