One month, one week, five days....

That's how long we've lived here - and that's how long it took me to make it to the ocean that we live less than 3 miles from. Sad!

Most of you who know me would not be surprised by this, for I'm not the most outdoor-sy person. What do you mean there's no indoor ocean? But, surprisingly, I was really longing to go there. At first we were staying on base and just too busy. Then we moved into the house and I was busier. Then came Google Earth, yelling, practically screaming at me, "Look how close you are, just take this road, it's right there!! You can do it!"

Hmm, I'm not actually sure if that was Google Earth harassing me or my Mother-in-law. One in the same really.

Either way, I kept returning to the maps, surely I could find it. So a week ago I made my first attempt, by myself. I mean - it's right there!

Or not.

Okay, so Google Earth masks the whole "tiny road, places you've never been, are you sure you're allowed to drive down that street, what the hell do those signs mean?" healthy fear that keeps you from getting killed, or worse, yelled at by a Japanese farmer. No, if it can be seen on Google Earth, it must be okay! Onward!! Then you actually get to the road, freak out and go home.

Now it was really bothering me. Suddenly I was 5 years old, it was Christmas morning and I'm poking at wrapped presents, tortured, while my mom took her sweet time making coffee. I've never been one for the whole patience thing.

A few days later, even more determined, I head out with the boys trying to find a bigger road that I knew had to exist, Google Earth said so! Then about a 1/2 mile from Christmas morning in ocean form, T. calls me and says the guy who was coming to set up our AFN (armed forces network) satellite wanted to come to the house right this very second to install our dish. No, not 20 minutes from now. Now!

Dammit! I turned back.

Finally, Sunday! The whole family is in the car and I convince T. to drive past the house and find the way to the ocean. Umm, you know, the one he took M. on a bike ride to on Saturday morning. Salt in my wound!! It was easy to convince him as he was eager to add more routes to his GPS.

Turns out it was a left-hand turn (and a big blue sign with an arrow pointing to "Miss Veedol Beach") that saved the day. And we arrived!

It was a glorious gift of sand, waves, surfers, freedom. Better than anything you could wrap and stuff under a tree. Better than a great house with 3 bathrooms and heated toilets seats. Seriously now, you all know how much I love Christmas and staying at home, but damn this ocean! It's amazing!!!

T.'s dream life - A bike, a tent, and the ocean....

A Conveyer Belt of Happiness

Let me tell you about the most entertaining (and inexpensive) restaurant I’ve ever been to. No, there is no giant dancing Elvis, no men to set things on fire and catch food in their hats, nor are there peanut shells covering the floor. But…there IS a conveyor belt delivering an endless array of sushi directly to your table, and everyone else’s! And if you don’t like what is on the belt, lack patience, or if someone snatches the last ahi tuna before it makes its way to you, you can order directly from the touch screen menu at your table which, much to our delight, has an “English” button. Minutes later a speedy little shinkansen (bullet train) will arrive, having rolled down the track above the sushi belt, delivering your heart’s desire.

It’s kind of hard to explain really, a picture (and video) is worth a thousand words!

Poor Naoko was probably getting rather tired of us with our “ooh, what’s that?” over and over and over!

Also traveling along the belt is your choice of flan, cheesecake, chocolate cake, coffee jello, and some kind of sesame pudding for dessert. Or, if you are so inclined the shinkansen will rush out a snow cone or a bowl of cantaloupe flavored ice cream (much like the melone gelato in Italy – yum!)

When you can no longer take another bite of anything, push the “account” button on your handy dandy touch screen and an exuberant employee will rush over to count all of your plates and give you your total for the meal. The price is determined by the number of plates you have stacked in front of you and how many of what type of design/color. You can see how many plates we went through…

Now if that doesn't send you scurrying to the travel agency, I don't know what will.

M. says... (quotes from my 5 year old)

“Everything has an engine, except people and alligators.”

Mama, I promise, next time I'll bring coffee...

Our first official tourist stop in Japan was to a Buddhist temple. Before entering we all traipsed along the surrounding graveyard and oohed and awed over the intricate family burial plots. All Japanese are required to be cremated so naturally you can fit many people into a small space. My first inclination was to be respectful and save the photos for another day - but dammit, everyone else was doing it!

So this is pretty much what they all look like, in various shades of natural stone. Most had drinks placed on an alter, thoughtfully opened and ready for spiritual partaking.

The wooden "sticks" are placed at the gravesite for certain anniversaries of death, 1 year, 5 years, 10 years, etc. I think the tour guide said they have prayers carved into them, but don't quote me on it.

Forgive the blurry indoor pictures but I could not bring myself to use a flash in the temple. I have no idea what anything in the above picture is, or what it's used for. I do know the carved ball thingy gets hit with the short stick thingy next to the bowl thingy on the table thingy. For some of you this won't be enough information, but be grateful, as I was told any other day this stuff is usually covered with cloth.

If one cannot afford a family burial plot outside, small alter spaces are available for rent inside the temple as you see above. They keep the ashes in delicate fabric boxes that kind of look like gift bags, taped closed along the top, for lack of a better description. They had them placed about on tables and such and I couldn't seem to find a reason as to why they were just hanging out there, so accessible. I tried quite hard to stay in there and learn more about it all, but those lovely fabric containers came in all different sizes. The smallest, with their gifts of candy and toys, were too much to take. I had reached my emotional limit and made my escape.

Left-handed Person in a Left-sided World

To any Lefties out there this sounds like heaven. Drive on the left, left on red, stick to your left on the sidewalks, stairs, etc. Even the books open the opposite way, so one turns the pages with their left hand. If I could only find a way to free my left-handed ways, long since repressed. What a shame to be born with such power, and no idea how to summon it. I should be excelling here, but alas, I am grouped with the right-handed people. I’m a “new guy” who turns their windshield wipers on instead of their turn signal, accidentally flashes their brights, and is overall a threat to pedestrians and drivers alike, forced, once again, to adapt to an opposite world.

Where the Streets Have No Name

In case you were wondering, Bono was definitely singing about Japan. A newcomer, trying to find their way anywhere, is sure to hear something along these lines:
From the main gate head to the big red Universe grocery store, turn left after the second stop light, look for the sign with the grumpy man on it, make a right, drive half a mile to the Happy Drug, make a u-turn, look for the paper cup, stop, get out, spin around twice, dance a jig, click your heels three times and say, “There’s no place like the ramen house!” And BAM! You’re there – easy as pie.

Life Lessons

Japanese Life Lesson #1 - More luggage than hands does not make for easy travel.
2 adults, 2 kids, 1 dog, two dog carriers (hard & soft) 2 car seats, one stroller, five suitcases, one guitar, and three backpacks – oh my! At least the fancy luggage carts were free. If only Matthew was tall enough to push one of them we wouldn’t have had to pile it all precariously onto just two. Praise Buddha for the graciousness and infinite patience of the Japanese. Should my children pick up anything from this mostly overcast, usually windy, yet somehow still beautiful country - please let it be their gift of selfless hospitality.

Japanese Life Lesson #2 – You Americans, as a whole, just don’t get it.
In Italy, this was lesson #1. Then we returned to the states and managed to get caught up in the rush. Upon our arrival to Japan we were, most gratefully, smacked over the head with the truth yet again. Don’t get me wrong, I think the majority of us really, really want to “get it” – I certainly do. But c’mon, aren’t we proud to be an American, where at least we know we’re free, yada, yada? From childhood we’re told to be grateful we have it better than everyone else and somehow that morphs into the thought that we ARE better than everyone else. We base our quality of life on the size of our cars and how far we have to drive to Starbucks. We live in our little bubble, concerned only about what happens inside of it. I implore you; break free from that tiny bubble and you’ll see this world has so much more to offer than lattes and Super Walmarts. And you don’t even have to cross the border to do it.

Japanese Life Lesson #3 - Generalizations suck.
Amen!