Shikinaen Royal Garden

Last weekend I went to the Shikinaen Royal Gardens in Naha. This was the second largest residence for the Ryukyu royal families and was also used to entertain foreign dignitaries. It was constructed around the end of the 18th century. These gardens are a World Heritage Site and a designated national place of scenic beauty.


But like everything in Okinawa, they were completely destroyed in the battle at the end of WWII. What you see in these photos was rebuilt in 1975.


The plants in the gardens were once carefully arranged to coincide with the seasons of Okinawa; in Spring, the plum groves were in blossom. In summer, Japanese wisteria (Fuji flowers) bloomed on the islands, and in Autumn dark purple Chinese bellflowers lined the way around the lake. It's still very beautiful. But just like everything else on the island, you can't help wondering what it was like before the war came.

Snorkeling at Mizugama

Recently I went snorkeling at a new spot: Mizugama (`Water Town`). Here are a couple pictures. The second one was really murky and when I tried to clean it up, all these crazy colors came out! Three cheers for the rainbows of water and the sea! It was fun to swim around in the middle of a school of fishies.



Now, to change the subject entirely (just because I don't have anywhere better to put this information) it recently occurred to me that I think I forgot to tell you about Constipation sensei`s parting remarks at the teacher`s Farewell Party in march.

The school year ends in March here. In Japan, both students AND teachers rotate in and out of the system. Teachers don't land a job and stay there throughout their careers. Instead, they rotate schools on a 3-7 year cycle (when you re a younger teacher you have to rotate every 3 years, later you get to stay up to 7 years in one place). So my good friend the English teacher who made me shout `constipation!` in front of class was sadly rotated out to a different school. At the farewell party each of these 20-odd teachers had to give a speech. Now, we`re all sitting in a fancy hotel with suits and ties on. Keep that in mind. Sensei gets up and begins his speech. The beginning is boring and formal. Suddenly he says (roughly translated into English),

for my last two years at Ginowan High, I was sick. Two years ago, they made me be Discipline Teacher. This caused an extreme amount of stress for me as I was never allowed to smile and had to pretend to be mean and shout at children all day long. During this time, I developed diarrhea. Yes, diarrhea. And this last year, it didn't go away because I am still stressed. The kids are so bad. So, I have had diarrhea for my last 2 years at Ginowan High. But now I am leaving!!!!
Thank you.

Oh, that guy cracks me up. I clapped extra loud for him.

I (heart) Accessory

You know how I loves me some bling guys. Accessories are Japanese people's first and foremost love. Phone accessories, body accessories, school accessories, life accessories. I thought I would show my cultural sensitivity by posing for this photograph.

More Engrish

After 9 months of reading my blog you should all be familiar with the Okinawan Shisa, guardian of hearth and home. There is a shisa on the steps of the Mihama American Village (uh, yeah there's a place here called the "American Village". It has a mall, a ferris-wheel, a cineplex, 2 Starbucks right across from each other, a horrendous array of shops selling wares that Okinawans consider to be American, and various restaurants promising -- yet never quite delivering -- "the comforts of home".) There is some graffiti on one of the shisa's paws. What a poignant mix of Okinawan and American culture this graffiti presents.

This is what it says:
I can't decide whether to think this Engrish is adorable and cute or just odd. It's sure funny, whatever else it might be. Was the perpetrator trying to send a message to the Americans that swarm Mihama by writing this in English... make a cultural connect? Did someone slave long hours over this translation, writing draft after draft until it was finally perfect? OR, is this just one good example of how Okinawans relate to the American presence and culture on their island?

I'm inclined to go with the second option. People here have a bizarre relationship with English that comes across in slang, signs, menus, and especially the wonderful, wonderful world of T-shirts. Instead of trying to explain, let me just show you a few photos of T-shirts that I snapped walking through the mall at the American Village yesterday. The last one is actually very poetic, as you will see. Basically everyone walking the streets here is wearing a shirt of equal or even more fantastic Engrish.


what would life be without tshirts?

Sandi is Engaged!

It's official peeps! My sister Sandi (the mighty conqueror of natto from the last entry) is engaged to this fellow named Sol. His family's good ol' Friends School folk so you can give him your seal of approval now before you meet him. Even better, we grew up with Sol and his little sister Leah (who was my best friend forever when we were kids) and our parents have known each other since the primordial ooze, so we don't have to worry about any of that meeting the folks crap that most people do. What a relief. I hate strangers and uncomfortable bull-shittery.

Here they are! I hope they don't think I'm babysitting for free for the rest of my life just because Leah offered to. Seriously Leah, what kind of badly thought out offer was THAT? I leave you to your fate.

Nattomaki

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BUT WAIT.

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

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

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


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

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

More Funnies

yesterday while walking around I saw several odd things. one of them was the hair salon from the last post. here are some of the others. when you walk into the mall in Chatan, this baby in a... black pig suit(???) greets you. WHAT IS THIS? what's the meaning? what's the purpose? can children put coins in it and ride it? are pig suits popular for Okinawan babies, and are they sold inside this store? Do they bring out the scary pig-baby and wheel it around the mall to J-pop music during festivals?

I once mentioned the Pokemon car on the blog. what I haven't bothered to talk about is the bizarreness of cars in general here. it is very popular to decorate your car elaborately around a certain theme. I have taken a few example photos for your viewing pleasure. Please don't miss the jauntily tilted plate in this Okinawan's windshield saying "give your heart to Jesus".

Though you can't see it as well, this car was much worse. The theme is Hello Kitty. How do you like the ginormous crystal gear shift there? All the seats are Hello Kitty in leather. The backseat is decked out with seat-matching Hello Kitty pillows and a blanket. There is a Hello Kitty trash can in front of the driver. etc.

Last but not least, here is a funny Engrish shirt that I witnessed outside Sbux. Man, I wish it were still loved by people.

Hair salon

Would you think that this was a good idea for an advertisement for your hair salon if you had one? Do you want to get your hair cut there? Tomorrow I will post some more photos of oddities in Okinawa!

Happiness

-by Raymond Carver

So early it`s still almost dark out.
I`m near the window with coffee,
and the usual early morning stuff
that passes for thought.
When I see the boy and his friend
walking up the road
to deliver the newspaper.
They wear caps and sweaters,
and one boy has a bag over his shoulder.
They are so happy
they aren`t saying anything, these boys.
I think if they could, they would take
each other`s arm.
It`s early in the morning,
and they are doing this thing together.
They come on, slowly.
The sky is taking on light,
though the moon still hangs pale over the water.
Such beauty that for a minute
death and ambition, even love,
doesn`t enter into this.
Happiness. It comes on
unexpectedly. And goes beyond, really,
any early morning talk about it.

pots set out to dry, itoman city

i saw these pots about a week ago when me and my sister went down south to the himeyuri monument and okinawa world. hows that, sandi?

Bumper sticker

Check out my rockin' new bumper sticker! I've been wanting something like this for a while but couldn't find it. I wonder if teachers are supposed to stay out of politics here. Hmmm, oh well I'm a gaijin, they can't get mad at me. I know nothing! See nothing! Hear nothing! I hope drunk marines don't key my car.

shoes

It is only in Japan where visitors might need instructions to keep their shoes ON when entering a museum (this photo: the cultural history museum at Okinawa World). In case you don't know, it is customary to remove your shoes upon entering a number of different places in Japan including homes, schools, many restaurants, a gymnasium, a library, etc. There is usually a shoe shelf or cupboard on/in which you place your shoes. My house, for instance, has a small entrance way with a shoe cupboard, and then a step up into the house proper. If you will continue to walk after the removal of the shoes (say in a museum) plastic indoor flippers are probably going to be provided for you. These can be called "indoor" shoes. Sometimes they aren't provided for you. You'll have to go barefoot and be looked at funny if you forget to bring your own indoor slippers or at least socks to change into. Like me, every time we have an assembly in the gym at school. Assemblies in the gym are funny though, because you'll see scary looking serious dudes in suits (like the discipline teacher) and then look down to see that they are wearing flower-patterned indoor slippers that are literally 3 inches shorter than their foot... they've just grabbed one of the communal pairs and are shuffling about in them. I really need to sneak a photo of this. If you don't have to continue walking after removing your shoes (in a restaurant, where you will sit down for example) no shoes are provided. you sit barefoot. However, pairs of plastic slippers will be placed at evenly spaced intervals at the step-down from the eating table areas for people who are walking to the bathroom. It would be horribly embarrassing if one were to walk out off the table area into the restaurant barefoot. I wonder if gaijin do this ever?

That was your cultural lesson for today. Perhaps next you'll get the story of Sandi and the nattomaki.

not only is japan weird, it's dirty

There is a new release section in my video store. The new releases are set out by genre in columns: kiddies, then romantic comedy, drama, etc. There is but one genre that does not have to play by the rules: PORN. The new release soft-core porn is displayed in one row along the highest shelf. Now, they've had the decency to not put any porn along the top of the children's new release shelf, but it is right next to it. And they've made no attempt whatsoever to keep it away from where slightly older kids might venture. Anyone wanting to rent "Freaky Friday", for example, would have to look this lady's foam filled behind right in the face (see picture below). Even worse, the entire children's video section is directly in front of this new release shelf!
So what's the logic here? Do they figure that little people are too short to be able to see the top shelf? That's definitely not true. I tried crouching down and looking up. Do they simply not care whether kids see it or not? Or whether anyone (like me) might be offended by it? I know Americans are notoriously more prudish than other nationalities, but someone out there must agree with me that this is somewhat inappropriate. The other very creepy option is that they're game to advertise to anyone... get 'em while they're young! I wouldn't put this past Japan. This country (and I actually mean Japan when I say that, not Okinawa in particular) is brimming with perviness. Seriously.

Just take the fact that all the school girls are required to be dressed up in sailor suits with knee high socks and short pleated skirts. They've got these ubiquitous photo machines in Japan that kids go into and make little collage sticker-pictures of themselves in, then they give them to all their friends or put them on their cellphones, etc. There's a big industry where pervy guys pay little girls to take suggestive or half naked pictures of themselves in their school uniforms in the perikura machines. There's even a special word for it in Japanese (which I read and forgot). Grooooooooooss. And grown women are expected to act like 5 year olds until... well, just about forever. Is it sexy? Believe me, it gets really aggravating to live around after a while. How many 45 year old women do I want to hear giggle over their Lilo and Stitch pen-case, their Sleeping Beauty cellphone dangly, their Sponge Bob Square Pants lunchbox tupperware? Did you know that some horrific percentage of Japanese couples go to Disneyland for their honeymoons? Almost 80% of my female coworkers had done so at one memorable lunch-time discussion about weddings. I was flabbergasted, as you can imagine. Being forced to go to a theme park is one of my worst nightmares (right after drowning and having giant cockroaches crawl all over me).

Anyway. I'd complain to my video store, except I don't speak Japanese and they don't speak English. Maybe I can get my supervisor to help me.

Japan is weird

Hi. I don't care what country you're viewing this blog from (and btw, I took off that hit-counter that kept track of all of you b/c it was whelming me) I have a question for you.

Can you buy Box-O-Placenta at your local pharmacy?

Yeah, it's the red boxes on the second shelf. What is going on here? Is this boxed placenta in pill form, to pop? Is it in powder form, do you stir it into your hot water and chug it for a quick energy boost? Will my future placenta production be increased 3-fold by taking this? What are the side-effects? Sometimes it really bugs me that I am illiterate in this country.

Me and Sandi found this mural on a building. You can examine it on your own time, and contemplate the complexities of the Japanese psyche.

Bobbing along

Bobbing along, bobbing along on the bottom of the beauuuuutiful briiiiiiney sea!

Sandi came along on a marvelous snorkeling adventure with me this week. We bobbled along on Sunabe seawall. Above is a photo of us together, bobbling. Luckily the underwater camera was fixed, so we were able to have photo documentary of our journey.
To the left you see some things that we saw... a school of fishies over a garden of coral and a starfish hiding in a rock crevice.

As you can see, the water in Okinawa is incredibly clear. We had a bit of a crisis entering and exiting the ocean because some friendly fishermen had caught a lot of big fishies and cleaned them, then thrown the unneeded parts back into the water (this gives nutrients and whatnot back to the sea, but it also leaves dead giant fishie carcasses floating in guantlet of DEATH formation). Sandi almost didn't make it.

Yay, snorkeling! Sandi is leaving tomorrow morning, but I will have to tell some backlogged stories of our adventures here. Especially the one about my teachers forcing her to eat nattomaki.

Nakamurake House

Last week, me and Sandi went to the Nakamurake House. This is the oldest house on Okinawa. Its 300 years old. Below is Sandi. Im standing on the stone wall surrounding the property, looking down.

This is a traditional Okinawan style house. It was a wealthy Okinawan farming residence.
Heres me with a well and the stables behind me.

Red tile roof with a shisa standing guard (you see lots of these 2 things in Okinawa)