An Offshore Rope

I believe that it's just about time for another tale about the legendary source of the sun. Incidentally, that's what nearly every Asian nation calls Japan. I have no idea how the Japanese pulled of that little PR coup. I mean, all of the other Asian nations hate them - the Japanese have belittled their cultures for centuries, and periodically threatened a violent takeover of the whole region. And yet, in each Asian language, Japan is identified as the place that the sun comes from. Well played, Japan. Well played.

Those of you who know me well know that my recent jaunt in Japan was not my first. Indeed, before I had even heard of Nagano, I had already lived in Japan for over two years when I was but a wee boy. Well, technically it was part of Japan. Most Japanese don't really consider Okinawa to be a true part of Japan, what with its strange and somewhat separate culture, customs, and language.

For my mother, however, it's all the same ball of disturbing, woeful wax. Mention either "Okinawa" or "Japan" to Kim Snow, and one can seen her visibly stiffen and shudder at the sound of the words. Perhaps she'll clench a nearby object. Occasionally the fine hairs on her forearms will stand on end. Kim Snow did not have a pleasant experience living in Okinawa. To her, Okinawa is a land of abundant cockroaches, unmitigated squalor, and incessant typhoons. So when I told my mother that I was planning a trip to Okinawa her first question was, quite naturally,

"Why would you want to go back there?"

Why indeed? Well, like so many of the events in my life, it began as a vague pondering that was given life due to events entirely outside of my control. In this instance "events" means "girlfriend" (note to those not in the loop: I had a girlfriend in Japan. Her name is Yuko.).

One fine April evening Yuko and I were just sitting around, nuzzling our heads up against some nice language barrier when I mentioned casually, "Yeah, someday I'd like to go see Okinawa. You know, since my family -". At this, Yuko shot up and seized both of my forearms, perhaps to prevent my escape. She locked her gaze with mine, and with trembling tenor, one word scarcely escaped her lips:

"Okinawa . . ."

I had gotten the impression that she was interested in going to Okinawa. I, being the Prince Charming that I am, was gracious enough to allow her to research all of the various travel options and make all of the arragements. The package deal that Yuko eventually found would cost us about $500 dollars. Cash was tight at the time, so I briefly considered scrapping the whole plan. However Yuko was constantly sending me text messages that consisted entirely of the word "Okinawa" surrounded by hearts and musical notes, so I thought better of this. Thus and therefore, I was Okinawa bound.

To understand my mother's physical aversion to Okinawa, one must consider that in the early 80's Okinawa was a fairly backward place, nowhere near as picturesque as the little hamlet featured in "The Karate Kid II" (which I believe was filmed in California). However, the Japanese are not a people to leave a mess just lying around, so in the past two decades Okinawa has improved. Considerably.

For example, this is the place where Yuko and I rented our car:



Behold! The Radiant Meteor of Collision Insurance!


Not your typical car rental place. In addition, they make you walk past aisles and aisles of top-brand consumer goods, everything from Chanel to Godiva, to get to the garage where the cars are kept. Once again, Japan - well played.

Thanks to the satellite navigation system in our car, Yuko and I shortly arrived at our four-star hotel. It was nice. The $500 (apiece) deal that Yuko lined up included plane tickets, car, and hotel for four nights, so all things considered we did pretty well. The hotel was well-appointed and comfortable, free breakfast and everything, but can we all agree - who cares about hotels? Well Kim Snow happens to, but there's no way she's going back to Okinawa anyway so it doesn't matter. Point is, we immediately hit the street.

In this case, "kokusai dori" or "international street", pictured below:


The Japanese are pros at taking any given concept to its logical extreme. Pictured here: a souvenir shop. Extremely.

It is here that Yuko found the man she declared to be her "new boyfriend".


She shall ne'er want for McNuggets.


Evidently her affections are somewhat fickle because the next day she chose to accompany me to Okniawa's big castle, Shuri-jo.


Yep, it's a picture of a wall. What? Walls are interesting.


The big dog itself. What is it like inside? I'll tell you - hot. Much too hot. It's not always good to be the king.


We also paid a visit to "himeyuri no to", which is hands-down the most depressing monument I have ever seen in my entire life. It tells the story of a group of junior high school girls whom the Japanese government forced into military service, and who were basically wiped out when we Yanks took the island. Whenever someone makes a war memorial, they should consult with the Japanese, because they set the gold standards for objectivity and emotional impact. They always treat the subject at hand with such dispassionate even-handedness that without the muck of sentiment to obscure it, the truth becomes that much more devastating. Don't believe me? Take a trip to Okinawa and go see the memorial. When it's over, you'll feel horrible just for being human - just for being a member of the species that is capable of such abominations. Good times! No pictures, for obvious reasons.

Anyway! We also did some happy things in Okinawa.

For example, we went to "Okinawa World", which is a theme park based on the place where it is located. Frankly, the idea of an "Okinawa World" seemed incredibly lame to me, but this was another thing that Yuko was excited about so we went. Yuko has better "happy fun-time" instincts than I do.

First of all, Okinawa World is home to the second largest cave in Asia - Gyukosendo. Honestly, the thing is so huge that it's boring. At first, it's all like, "Wow, cave!", but you walk through 850 meters of this thing and at about meter 500 it's more like, "Wow. Cave."


Oh my God, it never ends.


Seriously though it's beautiful or whatever. Indoor waterfalls and rivers and such.

The Okinawans have a whole bunch of highly poisonous snakes (Habu) on their island and I guess they're pretty proud of this because they have a big museum dedicated to them at Okinawa world. They also put whole snakes into bottles of liquor that is also spiked with some of their venom. So if you want a big bottle of snake poison-flavored alcohol complete with the pickled corpse of said snake, go to Okinawa I guess.

Anyway I made a new friend at the poisonous snake museum.

The snake lady said that he liked me because snakes like trees and I am tall like a tree. Alternate caption: This snake is obviously attracted to the raging pythons hanging from that tall tree. Third selection: My arms are modestly sized, and snakes feel comfortable with this.

However, far and away the best part of Okinawa World was the live show. Frankly when I think about live theme park shows I feel a combination of discomfort and pity. They're always vaguely pathetic in a desparate sort of way. Okinawa World showed me that sometimes we believe that we are in the midst of the darkest night, but Lo! and Behold! the dawning of a new day behind us.

Their show was based on the folk performance known as "eisa", which is probably the most fun, coolest folk music in the world, and I'm a fan of folk music. Seriously, it unseated Irish as my favorite. It looks like this:

Sorry about the quality of this photograph WE WERE ROCKING OUT DURING A TROPICAL STORM! BOO-YEAH! EI-YA-SAAA-SAAA! That's Okinawa style!

Then there was the food. Let me just tell you one thing - they have a kind of pork sparerib that is so tender that you can eat the bones. Not, you can eat the bones with some effort and gumption. No, more like you can eat the bones without noticing them because they are like jelly. Can you name a finer pleasure in this life? I submit that you can not.

Needless to say I gained seven pounds in five days. That is not an exaggeration.

I'd like to close this post with a fun fact. My brother was born in Okinawa. To this day, he retains his dual citizenship. Take THAT, United States Selective Service!

Next time we'll be back in China!