We arrived back home on Monday, late, late Monday. The international date line really throws you for a loop, when you realize you left Japan at noon on Monday, flew, saw the sun set, then rise, ON THE SAME DAY, and come back to the States at 10:30 on Monday. Weird.
During the rest of our stay in Okinawa, Stef and I were pretty much on our own during the day, and met up with my dad in the evening for dinner. The military base on which we were staying was not really public transportation friendly, so Stef and I had to get creative with ways to get into town.
On our first excursion, we trekked way south on the island to the famous Kokusai Street in Naha, one of the largest cities/towns on the island. I investigated the public bus routes, found our bus, and set off. Never mind the fact that for being American-dwelling, most of the signs and public maps in Okinawa are in complete Japanese, almost totally unhelpful to anyone who doesn't read Kanji. So, I did my best, and we boarded a local bus that, as the bus driver informed me, was in fact headed to Naha. The bus stop maps were useless to me, a wash of Kanji characters that blend together and make my head hurt. So instead, I asked the bus driver in Japanese what bus stop Kokusai street was. Oh, how surprised I was when I found out that this bus doesn't go to Kokusai Street! Just to the area of Naha. No worries. He told me which bus to transfer to when we arrived to Naha, so I was content.
The public buses in Okinawa are not as popular, or as efficient as the ones we have here, and as a result, there is not a flat rate for the buses. I was expecting this, and took a fist full of yen to pay for Stef and my fares. As we're riding along, I'm watching the numbers dictating our fares click up and up and up the further we go. As I nervously count and recount the change in my hand, I realize... we are not going to have enough money for this bus ride! I had more cash, but the bill was too large for the bus hopper, and of course, no one had change. I approach the bus driver at the stop where my purse was going to empty with a total of 850 yen for the two of us, and nervously tell him that I needed to get off... I don't have enough yen. Obviously irritated at my constant badgering of information from him, he seems grateful to be rid of me. I dump all my change into the hopper, (still 20 yen short, after all that!) and Stef and I scurry off the bus onto some random street en route to Okinawa.
We continue on foot, hoping to find a convenience store, or the like, to break our larger bill so we can grab the next bus to Kokusai. Blocks and blocks go by and it's car dealership after housing, after office buildings, with no luck. Finally we reach a larger intersection with taxis going by, and snag one all the way to Kokusai. An expensive ride, I might add, adding another 1400 yen to our excursion.
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| One of many. |
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| Gross! Leathered Frog purses! |
Kokusai street is a 1.3 kilometer long street filled with shop after tourist shop after restaurant. There were several cross streets that were equally as long covered market places, filled with novelties, fruit, and flea market type goods. I found a traditional-ish restaurant that had tasty A1 steak dishes and yummy potstickers. Stef wasn't too keen on trying the local favorite dish, Tacorice. Tacorice is pretty much white rice, ground beef, taco seasoning, and all the other fixings you would expect in a taco... pretty self explanatory.
We explored for several hours, ending at the Blue Seal Ice cream store, where we were first graced with the selection of "American style" meal crepes!
Do you remember what I said about Japanese putting corn on everything that is foreign? It applies to crepes, too. Hotdog, lettuce, ketchup, hamburger and corn, all wrapped up for a tasty, tasty treat. Stefhan and I opted for bubble tea (YUM!), and soft serve.
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| Num Num crepes. Really really thin pancakes. |
We survived the ride home, having to transfer buses, AGAIN, although this time with a very, very gracious bus driver. Why don't the bus routes make sense? The didn't seem to go in logical order, forcing us, and plenty of locals I noticed, to constantly ask questions of the bus drivers. Silly Okinawan public transport.
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| All scrubbed up, and ready for some autopsy action! |
The next day dad had a case to do, so Stef and I accompanied him to his autopsy! It was my first autopsy, Stef has seen one previously in his paramedic class. Twas a great learning experience, a totally new sensory experience, and a really nice treat to see my dad being the "boss"... Everyone calling him "Sir!" I supplied The Black Keys as the soundtrack. We took a picture of us all scrubbed up. Dad graciously put on a new apron for the picture.
On Friday Stefhan and I were relaxing in the afternoon when dad calls with news of the earthquake on the mainland, and the impending tsunami to Okinawa. We turn on the news, and CNN and BBC are showing reports of frantic North mainlanders, and video of what the earthquake felt like in Tokyo. What's amazing is that in Okinawa we had NO IDEA a huge earthquake happened just 30 minutes earlier, in the same country. Okinawa is about 1000 miles south from the very TIP of the mainland, and it is on a different tectonic plate. On the contrary, my dad swears that when New Zealand had their huge earthquake shortly ago, he felt mild tremors. Its theorized that these things even themselves out, a huge collision on one side would potentially result in a huge collision on the other side, with in a short (ish) amount of time.
The tsunami that was headed our way was expected to hit about 3 hours after the initial earthquake off the coast of Honshu. Stef and I ran to the nearby shoppette on base, along with every other Marine there trying to grab anything that might tide us over for a day in the event of catastrophe. A lot of people were buying beer. One guy had a bottle of Grey Goose that he righteously dropped and smashed at the cashier, spreading high quality vodka over everyone's boots. He went and got another bottle.
Stef and I had NO FOOD in our room, so we got a box of cereal and some water, just in case. The tsunami was originally expected to be about 3 meters, then as it approached, smaller, and smaller. The final prediction was only about half a meter, but the result was even smaller, with zero damage. The most frightening part about our impending tsunami was the lack of communications. The base had shut down phone lines, so I was only able to speak to my dad once, and he was on lockdown at the hospital for several hours. I am so thankful that a potentially disastrous situation was averted, but I am so sad for the mainland. Originally Stefhan and I were planning to go to Tokyo during the second weekend of our trip, but switched to the first. Had we performed our original plans, we would have been in the center of Tokyo when the earthquake hit, and had to suffer through no electricity, phones, and terrible aftershocks.
Happy that our destruction was averted, on Saturday we went on a waterfall hike, and stood on the VERY TIP of the north part of the island. On a volcano, no less.
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| The end of the world. |
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| I am tying my shirt up to my midriff, circa 1995 style. |
On Sunday we went to the Okinawan peace park. On the way back, all three of us were RAVENOUS MONSTERS in the car, lookin' for lunch. Nothing. Just roads. and some random snake and cat fighting signs. And a lot of pineapple farms. In fact, the number one pineapple in Japan, so one sign said. I'm trying to read every single passing sign I can, since none of them were in English. Finally, and one random road, there is a sign for a mountain cafe.
"STOP!" I yell, and dad pulls up to the sign so I can struggle through the partial menu thats listed there.
"Pizza, some other kind of pizza, bread, curry... it is, in fact, a cafe!"
We head on down this road, and then we keep on heading down this road. We drive for about a mile, and then it turns to gravel. What... the... hell? We get to the top of the hill, and there is a small house/shack with tied up dogs barking at us. Fully freaked out in a Texas Chainsaw Massacre kind of way we are about to leave and continue to suffer through our hunger when I spot another sign that says "Entrance." Sure enough, around the shrieking shack facade, there is a Swiss Family Robinson addendum built over a creek, with a kitchen, and other people eating.
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| The first thing we see. |
Okay. We progress into the cafe, and the menu is teeny tiny Japanese. Just positively filled with those little hand written characters, all jumbled in there in a really overwhelming way. But, and I'm staring at it, Things start to make sense.
"Oh! the pizza I saw on the first sign! But I still don't know what type of pizza it is."
I Identified chicken curry, cinnamon toast, and all of the drinks. The cook comes out and invites us to sit. We do. His female coworker comes out to take our order. I do. But there is still some confusion over the pizza types. There can be some pretty googly surprises on Japanese food, so better be safe then sorry.
"Just a minute," she says, and returns with a menu in English. FML. But, I was pleased to discover that I correctly identified almost every single thing on the menu, and we were finally able to distinguish between the different types of pizza. Score one for me. Dad and I opt for the chicken curry, Stef gets a pizza with "herbs and spices from the local area."
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| The bottom part of the cafe. Another eating area and the creek. |
The food was effing delicious. Yum yum extravaganza. It was so nice sitting out on the first really beautifully warm day, on some handmade porch, right overtop a creek. We thanked the owners, (just coworkers, not married) and the small girl, Mizuki, that was helping them run the food. I figured since Mizuki tried out her favorite English phrase "Here you are!", Stef could try out his new favorite Japanese phrase: Oishi desu! (Delicious!) Both were very fitting.
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| The stairs to the main house, and the kitchen. |
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| The gang |
We arrived at home safely, all of the area airports were open, and after a full 25 hours of travelling, we finally got home, showered, and slept. Only to wake up at 4 am thanks to jetlag.
Stefhan loved his first international trip, and I loved to go back to a place I haven't been to in 10 years. Can't wait to go back soon.
