Nakamura House & Seifa Utaki

Nakamura House & Seifa Utaki

It’s another grey day and I expect to be homebound all day but when I return from making morning phone calls Art tells me that Takaaki is stopping by. I am elated! He suggests lunch at a Mexican Restaurant near the Mihama American Village, outside of U.S.M.C. Camp Foster. The enchilada I eat is a welcome break from the Okinawan cuisine, but it’s a far cry from great Mexican food available to us in Santa Cruz. We go to a travel agency nearby to check on Island packages to Kume Island and Ishigaki Island. There is an American Book shop next door and Art is able to buy several reference books. This shopping center is near Camp Foster and caters to Americans.

It’s a 20 minute drive to the Nakamura House, a well preserved example of a wealthy farmer’s residence and a government designated culture asset. Construction of this house began in 1720. The house is surrounded by a stone wall. A huge horizontally placed stone slab sits just inside the stone gateway. This slab is called a Hinpun, or Spirit Wall. It is believed that the Hinpun will prevent evil spirits from entering into the house. We have seen smaller spirit walls behind the gateways of some of the remaining old houses, both in town and on the islands. The present roof of the Nakamura House is traditional Okinawan red tile, but generations before it was thatched. We walk through the lush garden surrounding the house and then remove our shoes and step up onto the smooth wooden planked floors of the veranda that encircle the entire house. There are 8 rooms in the main house. With the exception of a large gathering and dining room all of the floors are covered with tatami mats. Shojo screens work as partitions between the rooms and can be slid open wide to create communal space, or closed for privacy. The kitchen area is off to one side of the house, at ground level, with a dirt floor and a hearth for cooking. There is a small loft above the kitchen where the servants most likely slept. Stone pens for the pigs are directly behind the kitchen. The Takakura, or raised store house is one of the few remaining examples of this style of food storage building. We spend an hour wandering the house and the grounds and then drink complimentary tea in the gift shop while John feeds the Koi fish in the pond outside. The Koi fish literally beach themselves in desperate attempts to get at the pellets he throws.

Although it’s after 4:00 P.M, Art and Takaaki concur that we drive south to the district of Chinen and visit the Se-fa Utaki, declared by UNESCO as one of 9 World Heritage Sites on Okinawa. The Se-fa Utaki is the sacred ground of the creator goddess Amamikyo and I am told that we will see Kudaha Island from this Utaki. It’s after 5:00 P.M. when we arrive and the light is fading. We walk up the clearly designated pathway towards the Utaki. There are other late visitors to this site, but the walk is lovely and serene. There are three different prayer sites in this Utaki but the most impressive of the three is the Sangui where a massive wall of stone has broken and slipped apart to form a triangular opening where, when the sun is just right, light will enter this open corridor and illuminate this sacred place. This sacred spot was a ceremonial place used by the high priestess of the Ryukyo Kingdom to pass on the title of Kikoe Ogimi to the future kings. On this cloudy day there are no rays of afternoon sunlight to illuminate and bring magic to this spot, but it is impressive nevertheless. A group of future tour guides are being briefed on the history of this place, and as Art asks them questions, I step up to the opening that faces out to the sea and take pictures of Kudaha Island. My photos are less than impressive, but I am happy to have visited this sacred spot.

Takaaki drives us back to Naha in the dark and suggests a simple Chinese Restaurant for dinner. He has just heard about a small place, has never eaten there before, but the food is supposedly delicious. It is a ½ block off of Kokusai Street. Without Takaaki, I would not have been brave enough to walk into this tiny, dingy, hole in the wall restaurant with seating for less than a dozen people. There is nothing charming about this place, except that it has no charm; which in itself is the delight! There are 4 tables for two set along the wall, and we take up two of the tables. The counter seats 4 or 5 and faces the kitchen where the owner, a smiley eyed, Chinese man with his hair tied back in a bandana; cooks over a gas flamed stove. The one large table up front is occupied with 6 men dining and drinking. They look up and stare when we enter. Takaaki orders for us. Woks spit and sizzle and within minute’s plates of food are set before us. There is no waitress, but one young woman sits at the bar and when our plates of food are set on the counter before her, the “cook/owner” motions for her to deliver it to our tables. There is barely room to turn around in this restaurant and it takes me a few minutes to realize that she is just another customer who has been called into action and is graciously delivering our many shared dishes to our tables. The food is quite good; the chili shrimp is excellent and we inhale all that is set before us. Cold Lemongrass tea is poured generously. Art pays the 3,300 Yen check ( $28.00) for the 4 of us. Takaaki drives us home but not before warning us that we shouldn’t go into this area after midnight because it is a dangerous place to be late at night.

Okinawa’s Imperfect Weather

Okinawa’s Imperfect Weather

Island fever is settling in on John and me. I want the grey skies, rain and winds to go away. We arrived on Okinawa in early February and the weather was so consistently glorious that I hoped for the occasional cloudy or drizzly day to decompress. We seem to have now entered a new weather pattern for March and rain is predicted to continue for the next week.

My last journal entry was Sunday, a gloriously sunny day spent inside at a Karate and Kobudo exhibition. Late Sunday night as I drift in and out of sleep, I hear rain pelting the balcony outside our bedroom door. It is rhythmical and comforting and I sleep especially well.

On Monday morning the storm subsides but the perpetual drizzle continues and I walk alone down to the fish market for fresh sashimi. My umbrella catches a gust of wind and turns itself inside out. I return with sashimi and the skeleton of a broken umbrella. Art leaves for the day to meet with Byron who is well know in Okinawa as a Gaijin practitioner of the Sanshin. The son of an American Marine, Byron lived on Okinawa during high school and continued his fascination with Okinawa receiving his master’s degree in Okinawan culture. Byron has a Ryukyu Style video project that he hopes to promote. Art and Byron want their liaison to be mutually beneficial and hope that serendipity happens. John and I spend the day warm and cozy in our tiny apartment and I carve waxes while John does homework.

It is now Tuesday and another grey and wet day unfolds. John is completely bored and homesick. John is an athletic, gregarious 14 year old and has been relatively content to be with just his parents up until this point; but after one month in Okinawa he is missing his friends intently.

Art’s has his morning kanji lesson with Narumi and leaves in the afternoon with Byron to go to the Visitors Bureau to promote Okinawa.com. I work on a new dragon ear cuff wax design, but the day hangs heavily on John and to his credit he pulls a chair up beside me and works on his own wax project. He designs a Salamander Ring asking me endless questions to the point of my distraction; but he is making the ring for me and he wants to every detail to be perfect. John has done wax projects before but today he is more focused than ever before.

Art has been disciplined in going to Karate class every Tuesday and Thursday night since we arrived on Okinawa but John has been resisting. Last Thursday we insisted that John go with Art and tonight we tell John again that he has no choice in the matter. They bicycle off to the Makishi Dojo together, leaving me alone to catch up on this blog.

Karate & Kobudo Exhibition

Karate & Kobudo Exhibition

Art has been given two tickets to the Karate & Kobudo Exhibition this afternoon so that is the focus of our day. Art will be participating in the exhibition as part of the Makishi Dojo.

It’s a beautiful Sunny Sunday and I wake before Art and John. Of course I always wake before John since at 14 he would happily sleep until mid afternoon. I work on the computer adding a few items to my http://www.martymagic.com web page enjoying the quiet of the morning. When Art wakes, in keeping with our Sunday morning tradition we bicycle to Starbucks but we are pressed for time.

Buzzed on caffeine, we take a taxi to the Budokan (Martial Arts Hall) over by Naha Port. The Budokan is an immense structure consisting of two main exhibition halls and many practice rooms. I would describe the exterior architecture as “Contemporary Bizarre.” The building is constructed of cement with a curved roof topped by zigzag skylights and rooftop copulas.’ The inside of the hall is large and very functional. John and I arrive early and get seats front and center. There is tiered seating along both sides of the hall as well. I expected to be bored with the exhibition, but I have been “assigned” to take photographs and I look at the participants in a new light. Having never done “sports” photography I find myself very challenged. 28 demonstrations are on the program representing about 18 organizations. The exhibition opens with close to 1000 participants entering the hall. Two thirds of the participants are children and I am immediately captivated by their innocence and their discipline. Groups form, lines morph and katas are preformed in unison. The youngest participants are 4 and 5 years old and some wave to their parents but almost all perform their katas proudly and powerfully. Speeches follow and then each Dojo performs a demonstration. Artistically I am fascinated with the formations and the synchronizations of the presentations. The starched white gis snap and kiai’s are yelled. (A Gi is the loose white cotton clothing worn when participating in this martial art.) (A Kiai is the yell that comes from the belly when the power of a thrust is focused down into pure energy.) Midways into the program the Makishi Dojo enter. John picks his Papa out before I do and I focus my camera in on Art and take photo after photo of the dojo’s brief but proficient demonstration. Art performs well and John is surprised by this and admittedly proud of his father. The afternoon has evaporated and it’s after 3:00 P.M. Unlike our sports stadiums there are no food concessions and my blood sugar is at a low, but the exhibitions keep getting better and I forget my hunger. Several of the final exhibitions are utterly amaze me. I watch boards and sticks of wood splinter with a single blow of the hand. Stacks of curved roof tiles are smashed by the blow of an elbow and then the Kobudo Exhibiton begins.

Karate means “Empty Hand” and Kobudo means “Ancient weapon.” Centuries ago when the Japanese Samurai were in power the Okinawans were not allowed to own weapons. In an effort to arm themselves, the martial art forms of Karate and Kobudo evolved. Farm implements were not outlawed so the peasants turned simple sticks, boat paddles and rice thrashers into implements of weapons. Several Dojos’ demonstrate impressive Kobudo Katas but the grand finale are three female “Ninja’s” performing a choreographed fight. Their legs twist and turn over head, they tumble and twist and defy gravity in an exhibition that awes the audience. Its 4:30 before the exhibition ends and I feel drained. We walk out into a beautiful afternoon of slanted sunlight and catch the monorail to the Shintoshin district to eat dinner. Our destination is a restaurant beside the Tsutaya Book Store. This slightly upscale restaurant offers an after 5:00 P.M. half price sushi menu. Our timing is perfect and after removing our shoes we glide along a glass floored corridor and are seated in our own private curtained room. We decompress and feast on sushi in our private room. The bill for the three of us including drinks is $3,300. Yen. (Less than $30.00 including tax and tip.)

More photos of the Karate Kobudo Exhibition can be viewed in the Okinawa.com Photo Gallery.

Shopping at Ryu Bo & Strolling Kokusai Street by Night

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

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

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

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

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.

Onna Coast

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

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.

Walking in the Rain

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

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!

My First Wax Original Dragon Designed in Okinawa

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.

http://www.martymagic.com/product_info.php/cPath/47/products_id/820

Starbuck Sunday, Shinto Shrines & Tsushima Maru

Starbuck Sunday, Shinto Shrines and Tsushima Maru

Most mornings I brew coffee in our apartment, but this morning Art suggests that we walk to the Shintoshin Starbucks for a Sunday coffee. It’s easier than usual to wake John with the promise of a sugary high octane drink and we walk the 15 minutes to the Shintoshin district. John grabs a breakfast sandwich at McDonalds along the way and I pop into the supermarket to pick up a bento box of sushi rolls. It’s difficult to eat well when traveling and I don’t want to be tempted by the Starbuck pastries. As a rule, I prefer to explore and sample the local cuisine but when a good cup of coffee is in order there is a Starbucks in most every international city. One of my most memorable cups of coffee was a cappuccino sipped on a blustery day at the Shanghai Starbucks. Alisha and I had separated from the “boys” and exhausted from walking, the wind and the cold we slipped guiltily into a Starbucks. The familiar surroundings, the aroma, and ultimately the rich taste and the impact of the caffeine revived and cheered us. This morning we sit for over an hour in this Starbuck bubble, pouring over Okinawa maps and guide books.

We walk home stopping in at the market for a few supplies and then grab our bicycles for an afternoon ride. Our first stop is Fukushuen, the Chinese Garden. The garden is a recent recreation of a Chinese Garden and although pretty, it lacks that authentic feel of gardens and pagodas centuries old. The pools are filled with koi and turtles and John buys fish food and sits on the edge of the water scattering pellets. The water churns with their frenzied feeding as the koi literally pile on top of each other struggling to swallow the pellets. A white crane stands on the shoreline and couples stroll along the manicured pathways. The cherry blossoms are in bloom, but it’s too early in the season for the full springtime burst of color.

We bicycle a bit further to the Naminoue beach, the only public beach within the city of Naha. It’s a small and pristine crescent of white sand, framed and protected by a seawall retainer constructed of immense cement “jack” shaped forms. Almost every public beach and harbor is framed by these perfectly arranged and interlocking cement “jack” seawalls. The freeway looms above this beach and we see our first homeless encampment in the adjoining park. There is a tidy row of camping tents and what I surmise is a communally shared cook tent. On the cliff above the beach is the Naminoue Shinto Shrine. We bicycle to the entrance and walk the path to the top of the cliff where we have a view of all of Naha. While Shinto is the native religion of mainland Japan, it’s not a native Okinawan religion. Various Shinto festivals are celebrated here and today families are tying paper prayer requests onto a line strung between two trees and dipping long handled metal cups into the flowing water fountain to drink.

Nearby Asahigaoko Park and Naminoue Shrine we come upon the Tsushima Maru Memorial Museum. This museum is dedicated to the lives lost when the passenger liner, the Tsushima Maru was torpedoed by the U.S. submarine, Bowfin on August 22, 1944. The Tsushima Maru was evacuating school children and teachers from Okinawa to mainland Japan and 1,484 people died, 767 of them children. The ship sank in 11 minutes with only 177 survivors. This small, well curated, memorial museum lists the names all those lost at sea and a great wall displays the photographs of the children. The tragedy is carefully documented by extensive diagrams showing the position of the submarine Bowfin in relationship to the Tsushima Maru and the other two evacuee vessels which made it to mainland Japan safely. All three ships were guarded by the destroyer, Hasu and the gunboat Uji. The submarines’ log of events is also documented. Strings of paper peace cranes decorate the museum, their message being to teach the importance of Peace to future generations through the tragedy of the Tsushima Maru.

We eat a 3:30 P.M. lunch at a simple soba restaurant across from the shrine. It’s starting to drizzle, so we bicycle home.

Takaaki comes by at 6:30 P.M. and plays chess for his first time with John. Takaaki drives us to an Izakaya restaurant in the Shintoshin district were we meet with Tadashi and his brother Shigeru. An Izakaya restaurant is the Japanese version of a “tapas” restaurant. Takaaki orders for the table starting us off with a shared plate of tofu and goya champuru. Goya is an Okinawan vegetable that looks somewhat like a fat spiny cucumber. Its’ taste is bitter and it is rich in vitamin C. (If one is very brave, goya juice is readily available.) On a previous visit, I made the mistake of ordering a large bowl of Goya for myself, but I am acquiring a taste for this local dish and tonight I enjoy eating a small plateful. The next plate to arrive is a dish of fried rice with a raw egg on top. Tadashi takes chopsticks and mixes the egg into the rice and we each help ourselves to a small serving. We share a plate of Okinawan fatty pork which is a bit like chunks of thick undercooked bacon. There are skewers of chicken yakatori and a small bacon pizza. A hot pot of fungi, vegetables and chicken skin is brought to our table and with difficulty I dish out 6 small bowls of the broth and veggies. We end with a plate of nigiri sushi. Throughout dinner the men discuss Okinawa.com.

Tadashi drives us home and he and Shigeru come upstairs. Shigeru meets John’s beetle Frack and holds him without hesitation. Shigeru had stag beetles when he was a boy. It’s been a great day and an enjoyable evening.

Tsuboya Shisa

Tsuboya Shisa

After our usual morning routine spent with the computer and with e-mail we leave the apartment on foot and walk in the direction of Kokusai Street stopping at a flag store where we purchase and Okinawan flag as a gift. A bit further on is Shurei-do martial arts supply store, the best one on Okinawa. Art is looking for a karate gi but they are temporarily out of his size. Art want to visit the Tourist Information Bureau off of Kokusai Street to introduce himself and to gather information. It is just around the corner from the Starbucks on Kokusai Street and we pick up brochures and maps. We wander down Heiwadori Street (Peace Street) again and Art buys another sweet bean fish cake hot off the griddle. (They are really very delicious, so be sure to try one if you have the opportunity.)

The covered market ends at the Tsuboya pottery district which is one of my favorite areas in Naha. The main street of this interwoven district is lined with Okinawa pottery shops. Most of the buildings here are the old wood houses with red tile roofs and each gateway is guarded by a pair of Shisa. A Shisa is neither dog nor lion, but a guardian creature unique to Okinawa culture. A pair of Shisa, one with its mouth open and one with its mouth closed is sentry to most every home and business on Okinawa. They come in all sizes and styles and there are several pottery studios in this district that make them. There is a major studio on the main street where you can watch specialized craftsperson’s meticulously sculpt and incise the clay into these magical creatures. We don’t visit the studio today, but I have watched them work on several other occasions and have always felt welcome.

Today we wander uphill and discover the ruins of an immense hillside pottery kiln that was shared by the artisans of this district many years ago. Broken earthenware vessels and pottery shards are embedded in the embankment and a cat lounges lazily on the sun warmed roof tiles of the ancient building. If you poke down narrow side streets or walk off the main street along a stone path you will discover many small pottery studios and sweet spots, lush with tropical foliage. Many of these intertwined streets have walls hewn of Okinawa limestone. You will also see monstrously ugly cement apartment buildings crowding and dwarfing the ancient tile roofed houses, and expensive cars sit in the driveways of many of these ancient homes.

It’s 3:30 P.M. before we start home and we are hungry. Many places have already stopped serving lunch and are not yet open for dinner so we resort to a non-descript 24 hour Okinawan eatery. John orders an ebi fry, (fried shrimp) I order a vegetable and beef champuru (stir-fry) and Art has a tonkatsu-don (a bowl of rice with breaded pork cutlet.)

Back at home, I work on waxes until nearly 7:00.P.M. and then relax with John and his beetle Frack and watch a bizarre Japanese T.V. program. The premise of this program seems to be that the T.V. crew barges into a “victims” bedroom and puts a stag beetle on the sleeping victims’ nose. The beetle pinches on hard and the T.V. crew uses a stopwatch to time the victim to determine how long he can withstand the torturous pinch. (I am concerned that some of the beetles may get hurt with all the thrashing around and hysteria this “Beetle Fear Factor” program generates.) John thrusts Frack in my direction and I start in fear. I am not yet ready to hold John’s new pet, let alone be timed with one pinched to my nose!

Yakitori Dinner

Yakitori Dinner

I plan to spend a full day carving waxes, but start the morning with a brisk walk to the fish market for some exercise and to buy some fresh sashimi and sushi.

Art takes off on a long bicycle ride and John plays online chess while I work on my dragon pieces and listen to a book on tape. John tells me I need to carve a different type of dragon’s head and I think he is right. I work for over 4 hours on just the head of the new dragon. Eventually John tires of online chess, bungees his skateboard to the handlebars of his bicycle and rides to the skate park. I continue working several more hours on my dragon and try not to worry too much about John.

Art and John both return safely. Art bicycled to Chinen on the south eastern point of the island to the Sefa Utaki. This utaki or sacred site is one of Okinawa’s seven UNESCO World Heritage sites. He is exhilarated.

We have dinner plans with Rena tonight. Rena lived with us for a year in Santa Cruz, some 6 or 7 years ago and I am very much looking forward to seeing her! Back home, I would have most certainly cooked dinner at home but we want to take her out for a meal and ask her to choose a restaurant. She drives us to a district where there are dozens of yakitori restaurants dotting the side streets. Red paper lanterns denote these establishments and glow invitingly. They are primarily drinking establishments that serve small plates of skewered meats and vegetables. The first one she chooses is full so we drive to another one. These places are notoriously small consisting of just a bar and a few small tables. This yakitori has one of its 4 tables vacant. The bar is filled with customers, and the air hangs heavy with cigarette smoke and the smell of frying meats. Rena orders a number of small plates for us to share. A bowl of cabbage is brought to the table. She tells us that traditionally you eat a little yakitori, then a bite of cabbage. John inhales his portion of each plate served. We order three glasses of different kinds of sake and the waitress brings three small empty glasses on tiny saucers. She fills each glass to the brim and overflows the sake into the saucer below. We have“sake” tasting, sipping from the saucer and each of us chooses one glass. (John orders another soda.) There are many young couples out tonight and they talk and smoke and drink. Their ashtrays are filled with cigarette butts. I realize I am not in “Kansas” any more but I am enjoying every minute of the second hand smoke.

Rena calls a daiko taxi and we ask her if they are expensive? She tells us that they cost less than a regular taxi after hours. After midnight taxi fares increase. Its 11:30 before we pile into our regular taxi and head back home.

A Work Day

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.