Culturally Packed Weekend

Yet another underway has come and gone. Yes, that's right, our boy was out there doing man overboard trainings and navigating through low pressure systems like only a Navigator can. Mark realized that, although we're living in Japan for a year and a half, with all these underways and a four month deployment starting in early May, he really won't get a chance to soak up much of the country or it's customs. Keeping that in mind, we made sure to pack as much as we could in this past weekend. On Saturday we went to our first Japanese pro baseball game. Clearly this was no Phillies game. There was no mixing of fans- they sat according to for whom they were rooting. One side wore blue or blue and gray showing their spirit for the Yokohama Baystars and the other wore yellow or yellow and white for the Tokyo Tigers. There were no metal detectors as you filed into the stadium. And, most obvious clue we weren't in Philly? People could bring their own food and booze! Mark and I laughed as we could picture people hauling quarter kegs on their backs up to the nose bleed sections. Check out the video to see how organized their cheers were, I mean E-A-G-L-E-S has nothing on these guys. We were sitting behind the drums and horns- they took the repsonsiblity very seriously.

Spring has Sprung

These days the mercury is consistently hovering around the age of retirement, with some days reaching that 'bless her heart, she's still going at it' level. The cherry blossoms are peaking and roads are being covered in pastel pinks from their petals. The breeze from the cars cause them to swirl as if it were a dusting of snow. Kids, pets, and couples are coming out of the woodwork. Parks and beaches are busting with activity on the weekends with picnics, kite flying, baseball catches, and soccer games. We even saw a man taking his cat out for an evening walk- on a leash! Some pics of the house after a some yardwork.

Mark and I have taken advantage of one of the endearing qualities of being in the Navy family, proximity to the sea. You'd think this boy would be tired of seeing the ocean, but it is a love that is unconditional between a man and mother nature that only one with the same passion can understand. The other weekend we headed to the beach for Mark to have a surf and me to watch him master the waves. It's soothing to watch him glide back and forth effortlessly through the water on his board. His athleticism never ceases to amaze me. I wish I could have the same relationship with a surfboard- I've tried, we just don't get along well. It's too big for me to bully and never does what I ask.

So this past weekend we enjoyed a pastime that we both could partake in; fishing. The start of the adventure what somewhat shaky at the local fishing store, Tackle Berry. We got some hooks, sinkers, and my favorite purchase, the rattling minnow imitation but we still needed some bait. Ok, we're at a fishing store so they'll surely have bait, right? But what is the word for bait? We looked in the phrase book earlier and didn't see it so we just winged it. "Sumimesen, bait doko deska?" (excuse me, where is the bait?) The man behind the counter perked up right away, "Hai, bait-o." (yes, bait) Mark and I looked at each other with hope-no way, we got it right-o! "Hai, bait-o," Mark said back with a smile. We had already put our items on the counter to ring up. One second hand pole: 1,200 yen. One bag of fake worms: 480 yen. One rattling minnow imitation lure: 560 yen. One bag of sinkers: 58 yen. Then the confusion started. "Bait-0" the man picked up the fake worms and showed them to us like we hadn't known what they were. "Uh oh, i think we need to bust out the phrase book," I said to Mark. "Oh man, here we go," he replied. "But what word can we use to describe bait? Ah ha, here's live. How about live?" He showed the man the word in Japanese. He looked up, smiled and seemed to be waiting for something else. "Ok, let's try alive. Nope, no alive in here. Maybe squid? Nope, no squid." We said live again. He repeated it,"live" but just smiled like he had passed the pronunciaion test. Defeated and confused we threw up the X to show nevermind and just said, "gomenasai, arigato" (sorry, thank you) and motioned at our purchase as if to say, this is it buddy, please pretend the last 5 minutes didn't happen. On our way to base we stopped at the local fish market and picked up some sardines to use as bait-o. Base fishing is supposedly pretty good because it's isolated from the local fisherman so you've got more space to yourself.

In the couple hours we were out there I landed two blowfish. Quite fun to take off the hook but they weren't big enough to bring home. Besides, they're poisonous and if we don't filet them properly, they can be deadly. Not how we want to end our first fishing trip. We just enjoyed the afternoon and laughed at how we still can't get over living in Japan.

Clips from the Second Day

Our Final Adventure as the Three Amigos

I can’t believe it’s taken me so long to fill you guys in on our camping excursion on Shinkine-jima. Being this would be our last adventure as the three amigos, Mark took off two days from work so we could enjoy a long weekend together. To say it was relaxing and peaceful is an understatement. To get to this jima (island) we took a 10.5 hour ferry ride from Tokyo south into the Pacific Ocean. This ferry ride was far from cushiony; sleeping in our clown car would have proved to be more comfortable. You’re assigned a number on your ticket that corresponds to a 5.5 x 2.5 rectangle on the floor which is plotted out by duct tape. We slept side by side on the bottom deck of the ship, picture sardines in a can. After about 100 people boarded at 10pm our ride was underway. No sooner did people lay down their furry ferry supplied blanket and plane sized pillow, did they bust out their Kirin, Sake, or Sapporo. We didn’t realize this was a party boat! Marissa played Uno with some Japanese students and swore they cheated. Mark and I sat back and laughed at where we found ourselves. Midnight rolled around, the lights went out, and a man came around saying, “Shh, sleepy time.” So it was. 9am the next morning we stepped outside to see our island approaching. From a distance it looked like a big rocky hill with patches of green tree tops, nothing too spectacular. But after mooring and disembarking the water became crystal clear and allowed us to see sea life 20-30 feet down. Looking the part of rustic campers with hiking backpacks and sleeping bags latched on, we started our trek to the village office. Fortunately, a nice woman stopped along side us and asked us if we wanted a ride. Well, she had to motion to us as well since we all know we had not a clue what she was saying. After an enthusiastic, "Hai, hai, arigato gazimous" (yes, yes, thank you very much) we were taken to the office to register. The season had just opened and we were some of the first campers they had seen all year. The island is only 12 kilometers in diameter and has 600 people living there year round. Needless to say, they were very happy to have the tourists starting to trickle into their local economy. With map in hand we crept along the road trying to figure out where to turn. Of course we missed the spot, so we asked a nice lady driving by "Simesen, camp-jo doko deska?" (Excuse me, where is the campsite?). She pointed down this dirt path but we were very skeptical because it looked like it was more a ditch that drained rainwater. She could see the skepticism in our faces so she got out of her car and motioned for us to follow her. She led us through the woods and to the most beautiful beach I have seen in a very very long time. Our campsite was just to the right of us and it looked out at to the crashing waves, crystal clear aqua blue water and lush green hills.

Mark, Marissa, and I wasted no time unpacking, setting up camp, and then looking for the first sign of a hot spring. Marissa, being the fish she is, found the spot right away. The hot portion was only in the shallow part where the hot air bubbled up to warm the water. Actually, some parts were down right scalding. Because this pool was directly connected to the incoming tide, the deeper you went the colder it got. I didn't even have my bathing suit on yet and she was already basking in the freezing water collecting shells and grinning from ear to ear.

We went on a hike to the top of the mountain, found some firewood, and made a great dinner on the outside oven. The first day was amazing and only got better the second day.

Monkey Business

March 22nd was the first time Marissa, Mark, and I were able to go on a tour together, so in honor of the occasion, we visited a place where they both belong- The Wild Monkey Park! This park is up in the mountains of the Nagano Prefecture, 5 hours northwest of Tokyo in ski country (think 1998 Winter Olympics). A group of about 270 monkeys inhabit the mountainside and come down to the park during the day to bathe in the natural hot springs. They are very accustomed to people being around so the monkeys will all but come up and jump in your lap. To sit and monkey watch made me think one thing- damn, despite what you believe, evolution or the seven days god made earth/man- we've still got some uncanny behavioral similarities. Moms still have this inherent need to lick their fingers and wipe smudges off of cheeks/noses/foreheads of their children. Little kids (as well as Mark and Marissa) are forever climbing up crazy structures and swinging from unsafe heights. And sibling continue to fight, whether is for real or play. As you know we sometimes have mishaps and this tour wouldn't have been complete without one. Before we left the bus the tour guide said do not bring food into the park but you could purchase it there. Being the budgeting fools we try to be, we said, 'oh they just want us to spend money in there' and brought some fruit with us anyway. Evidently they weren't trying to get us to spend money, they were in fact saving us from another fun fact I had forgotten about families. What one person has the other one wants a taste of! As soon as Mark and I were ready to bite into a delicious orange we heard Marissa behind us say, "Uh, guys." We turned around to catch 8 monkeys barreling toward us! We had some goodness and there was no way we were going to come into their house without sharing. And since we weren't offering, I guess they assumed they have to take it. No sooner did i see their beady eyes coming towardat us did I give my half back to Mark and darted away from the smell. Mark wasn't so lucky. He high tailed it up the hill with the monkeys in hot pursuit.

fish market fun

When you've got a great pad in Tokyo as a base camp, you have got to take advantage of the early morning treat of seeing fresh seafood brought into port and auctioned off to restaurateurs before it ends up on the plate of a lucky someone. So on Thursday at 4:45am our alarms went off, we jumped out of bed, left Gin behind and caught the 5.08 train to the Tsukiji Fish Market to do just that. The market was the size of stadium- not the field, but the whole structure and sectioned off into areas for the purchase of live fish, shell fish, the tuna auction, produce area, and a packaging area. We carefully made our way to the back of the market, careful not to get run over by the hundreds of handcarts and busy motor carts to the tuna auction that promptly starts at 5.30am every day excepts Wednesdays. We clearly new when we arrived to the spot. Crowded around hundreds of torpedo sized tuna were Japanese men checking out the product, workers tagging them, and auctioneers standing on chairs getting ready to do their chant. A man with a reflective vest walked around with a flashlight and baton handing out fliers in English that instructed you on the dos and don'ts of taking in this awesome experience. The instructions were quite specific- do be quiet. don't use flash photography. do use the visitors area to view the auction. do not touch the seafood. All the precautions were due to some unfortunate and rude behaviors from some tourists back in January which caused the market to be closed to visitors for two months while ground rules were established and well marked. I'm glad the Japanese opened it back up in time for Marissa to see it.

The auction was so lively and entertaining. The buyers use only hand signals to bid on the Tuna, which is why there is no flash photography- one missed signal can cost someone thousands of dollars. The auctioneer stands on a chair and does some little dance while he chants whatever it is he's saying. After a few moments he stops and writes down something on a little piece of paper, hands the paper to a runner and the runner hands it to the person who won the bid and the next fish is up for purchase. There are hundreds of Tuna being auctioned which makes for the need of a very fast process. The fish is then put on a hand cart and carried away to wherever it is they are taking it. Some went to be filleted right in the market while others were put in ice and styrofoam to be sent to a lucky chef. Besides the Tuna, there were tons of other things brought into the market as well. Check out the pictures of shellfish, seaweed, lobsters, Alaskan King Crab, and other types that I couldn't identify. This is one market that i will be visiting again.

Nagoya Fertility Festival

"Warning, you will see things explicit to the eyes" In simple and broken Engrish, that is how our tour guide started off his introduction to the day. This festival has been one of the most bizarre experiences yet. The only thing I might be able to compare it to in the US is a gay pride parade. So many novelty private parts in so many forms- key chains, sake bottles, salt and pepper shakers- and food- pancakes, candies, hot dogs, and my favorite, chocolate covered bananas. We rolled into the small town in Nagoya after a 5 hour bus ride and were immediately greeted by festival goers wearing their favorite reproductive organ around their neck. To an outsider, this festival looked like some sort of perverted carnival, but as most things in Japan, this was a serious ritual. It dates back 1500 years, starting when a husband was killed in battle and his wife's family prayed to the Gods asking for a bountiful harvest and the ability for more successful conceptions. The town is usually very quiet but on March 15th every year it turns into lively expressions of hope, thanks, and revelry.

Taking on Tokyo

Marissa landed a great gig dog sitting for a couple who have a posh apartment on the eight floor of high rise in the middle of Tokyo. We've taken the opportunity to explore the city with and without Gin, the dog. Here is a clip from our adventures.

I'd have to Ask, cause I Can't Tell...

The more time I spend in Japan, the more I'm noticing the subtleties that were hidden by the 'you have got to be kidding me' moments that stopped me in my tracks when I first got here; the idea of putting poached eggs on everything from pasta to sushi to burgers is no longer an oddity, I've managed to not only conquer my fear of squatting when the urge arises but also have mastered the trick of rolling my pant legs so-- well you get the point, and gone are the days when I was the only one in the bathroom who shook their hands dry because I now carry around my own stash of tissues. Since I'm not as busy mimicking tangible survival techniques, I've found more time to question social behaviors I've witnessed.

I was on a relatively uncrowded train up to Tokyo. There were enough people to have to stand because the seats were full but not enough people to necessitate the violation of, what we as Americans claim a 3 foot radius to be, personal space. The train is a great place to people watch. You have the sleeper whose head looks to be on a hinge as it dangles inches away from his or her lap and is practically drooling on their neighbor. There are the texters, glued to their cell phones, whose phalanges look to be working faster than the nimble fingers of child laborers stitching up your pair of Walmart whatever. There are the boisterous salarymen (business men) who are on their way home from having one too many sake rounds at the local bar. There are the younger women in either their smart suites or sharp business attire still looking well put together after a long day next to a mom or grandmom with their ingredients for dinner tucked into their personal grocery bag. I can't forget to mention the males between 18 and 100, absorbed in the latest and highly pornographic edition of their anime comic book. And last but not least there are the school children, the most gregarious of the lot, smiling away with their yellow book bags and school hats that match.

But there is something else going on here. My gay-dar is broken. It's just like the language, it doesn't translate! Over the months I've been here I've noticed many men, grown men, outfitted in the color pink- and I doubt it's due to their desire to increase breast cancer awareness. Yes, here men don't seem to think twice about having a pink phone or sporting a salmon colored scooter. I've seen them in pink jackets, wearing pink ties, and donning pink shoes. Now I ask you, are they gay? I don't know. Not that all men who wear pink are gay, some are just fashion forward (Luke, that shirt of yours looks great on you), but it's come down to having to ask, although i never would- not to mention i have no idea how to say it- but I can no longer tell. I'm beginning to think there is no such thing as homophobia, either. What other explanation is there for a guy standing on the train, holding onto the handle above, with his crotch only a foot or so away from another guy's nose. And neither one moved spots- for 15 minutes. I wouldn't even give it five seconds for a guy back in the states to either get up and move to another seat or for the man standing to turn sideways so his hip could be the view instead of his inseam. Maybe I've been away too long, but am I wrong here?

Some is Better than None

Man, Friday could not get here quick enough! I felt like a little kid counting down the sleeps until Christmas morning. Once Wednesday came it hit me I had only two more sleeps until Mark was home. Thank gosh, these five weeks have felt like an eternity. I'm pretty sure it has something to do with my stint in Oz during the beginning of January that left only 10 days to spend with Mark between Christmas and the date he left. Lesson learned, Alisa won't be taking any solo trips while Mark is in port for a good while.

So with much anticipation I arrived early on the base Friday morning and did everything I could to make the hours pass by quickly. I have been asked to be part of the Cowpens' Family Readiness Group, which is a group of spouses who gather for family and adult functions when the better half is out to sea. Marissa was babysitting so luckily my morning was occupied with a get together at the Starbucks on base to share enthusiasm and weekend plans with the other spouses. Then I headed to the sea wall to follow in the ship as it was pushed/pulled by a tug boat. It was such a relief to see the ship come barreling through the fog into sight. I imagine it may be like the feeling of having a stranger drop off your child at home. You're not quite sure of this person or have complete trust that your loved one is safe until they are in your arms. Nonetheless, I was very happy to see CG63 making her way to the dock. Once whoever it was gave the go ahead sign, the families were allowed onto the ship to see their sailor. Mark came bouncing into the wardroom when he heard I was in there waiting. It was so good, so so good to have him home.

Mark, Marissa, and I enjoyed a great dinner, relaxed, and sat around talking about all of our adventures. As you may know, Mark was called to go to S. Korea to participate in the joint exercises that have been talked about in the news between US forces and ROK forces. Although his time at home was less than 48 hours, the three of us had a great time together. I can only hope we get a chance to make more memories together. He are some pics of our walk around the neighborhood.