We took a field trip with a group of homeschooled families to Motobu, Okinawa yesterday. Our first stop was a recreational area called the Motobu Wellness area, where the kids made salt from seawater and traditional Japanese cookies. They all seemed to have a good time making the cookies and an even better time eating them. They tasted a little like sugar cookies and had a different texture and a slightly chalky aftertaste.
The wellness area had a nice beach with volleyball nets set up. There were kayaks and jet skis as well. I'm not sure how it fits in, but they also had a pen full of goats, rabbits, roosters, and hens. Animals, they contribute to our sense of wellness! :)
After our short stop at the wellness area, we made our way up a large hill to a restaurant called Pizza in the Sky, more appropriately known as Cafe Kajinho. We had a group that included eight parents and fifteen kids ranging in age from 2 months to about 16. We converged on this place and it was somewhat of a zoo.
The menus were printed on large Japanese fans, with Japanese on one side and English on the other. It was a very simple menu. For the most part, they have one special pizza they make and people order that. You can get 7" or 14" pizzas. Yesterday, the toppings available were thick pepperoni, onions, green peppers, and corn. I ordered a loaded pizza and was pleasantly surprised that the corn fit right in with my other toppings. The pepperoni had a different sort of spice to it that wasn't hot, but had a wonderful flavor. The crust was somewhere between a thin and hand-tossed crust. Overall an excellent pizza!
The area around the restaurant had heavy foliage. The perimeter was skirted by a wooden fence that wouldn't keep out a goat. On the other side of this fence was a steep drop on three sides of the restaurant. Beyond that drop, the town of Motobu opened up on the horizon, flowing to the sea. It was a beautiful day and from our perch, we had nearly a 180-degree view of the ocean and surrounding hills.
Perhaps the most interesting thing I found on this trip was a certain table at the pizza restaurant. Sitting on the porch overlooking the ocean, I noticed one lone table that stood out. Every other table in the whole place was low to the floor for traditional Japanese seating, but this one was different. It was a large, odd-shaped, thick slab of wood perched atop the metal framework of an old, treadle-style Singer sewing machine. My mom would have loved it but wondered what happened the the sewing machine. :)
I must give a mention to the ice cream we encountered as well. We stopped at a market area and killed some time while waiting for others to arrive. While there, we grabbed some ice cream. Koen had his standard vanilla, but I got adventuresome and went out on a limb with some black sesame ice cream. I was slightly skeptical, but it's what the ladies recommended. I wasn't disappointed! It had an unusual flavor, though not overly sesame. I'd do it again, but next time I'll go for the sweet potato. :)
This was our first major outing since arriving in Okinawa. I am so looking forward to spending some more time up north, away from the American concentrated areas around the bases. We had to drive about 60 kilometers away from the base to find a Japanese person who didn't speak English. It was nice to experience a little more of Okinawan culture and yet I know I've not even scratched the surface. I'll keep you posted as the adventure goes on.
My goal of climbing Mt. Fuji came about quite by accident. Actually, it's my son's fault. While creating my vision collage, he stumbled upon a photo of Mt. Fuji. I thought it would make a great center photo since it was large. As my collage took shape around the photo, it occurred to me that I could make climbing that mountain my goal. Voila! I had my first lofty, long-term goal. At least it seemed pretty long-term at the time.
Just after making my collage, I met a woman on eBay. She was selling some workout DVDs, which I purchased from her. In the process of communicating with her over the purchase, we found some common ground and began e-mailing one another on a regular basis. It is this woman, my newfound friend, who took a leap of faith six months later and flew halfway around the world to climb a mountain with me.
Three days after meeting in person for the first time, we headed out at 12:30 a.m. to catch our bus for Hakone National Park, where Fuji is located. We drove an hour, caught our bus, and rode another three hours to get to our starting point. With walking sticks in hand, we headed out on an adventure that would strengthen the bonds of friendship. Within minutes the rain came.
The path began easily enough. Our bus had dropped us off at station 5 and before long, we were greeted with a nice view, looking down on the clouds. We walked along on flat ground, talking about our strategy for pacing ourselves. Soon enough, the terrain began to change. During our 6-hour and 15-minute ascent, we zigged and zagged upward. We climbed stairs. We climbed steep boulders. We climbed in loose gravel. Occasionally, we stopped for electrolyte water or organic energy bars or to simply take a short rest. The rests got longer and more frequent the closer we got to the top, but I'm getting ahead of myself.
As we ascended, we passed a variety of people going both ways. One Japanese man even had a toddler on his back. I couldn't help but wonder if he had made it to the top. In retrospect, I don't think he did, but at the time I marveled at his accomplishment.
About 20 minutes into our climb, I asked my friend to pray with me. I gave the climb to God. I asked him to give us the strength to climb this literal mountain, as well as for protection. My friend and I spoke briefly about believing in angels. She felt she had received confirmation of a guardian angel just before we got on the bus. After our prayer, my step quickened. I felt a burst of energy propelling me forward. At that moment, I was more sure than ever that the mountain was already conquered, though my body slowed, my head certainly kept up the mental momentum!
We stopped at every mountain hut to have our walking sticks branded with a unique design. With each stamp, I grew more determined. Inevitably, we would stumble across people from our bus and we'd have a brief exchange. Several times we exchanged "ganbatte" with Japanese people. This word means "do your best" or "go for it."
There are ten stations on Fuji, with the tenth at the top. Around the 8th station, my hands began to get really cold and one of my fingers had turned yellow - a symptom of my Reynaud's Syndrome. I worked to get my circulation back, then put on my gloves and kept trucking. Around this time, we rounded the corner of one of the mountain huts and came face-to-face with a steep wall of rocks. My first reaction was, "YES! Let's do this thing!" In fact, this was a scenario that replayed itself numerous times. Each time, I had a similar "oh yeah!" reaction. It was my own way of cheering myself along. It worked for me.
Somewhere about halfway to station 9 I began to experience some altitude sickness. At first, I only felt slightly dizzy. Obviously, the dizziness only got worse the higher I moved. Within about 30 minutes, I also felt nauseous. We stopped, drank, and ate, then began again. We moved more slowly. Though my friend was not experiencing the same effects, she was an amazing support throughout this process. Together, we worked through it taking five steps while breathing deeply, then stopping for two deep breaths. Eventually, I did begin to feel better and our pace quickened somewhat.
For the last 1.5 hours or so, the wind and rain picked up. A storm was rolling in. At times, the wind was so harsh that we had to brace ourselves against our walking sticks and lean heavily into the wind to keep from being blown over. Just when I thought the climb was never-ending, we ascended the last flight of stairs, passing under a red, Shinto tori gate. We had arrived!
We stood in line to have our walking stick stamped with two special red stamps, then stepped out to find the crater. The wind was blowing so hard and fog was covering the crater. It had become dangerous and we were told not to go to the crater. We could not have seen it anyway. We planned to travel around the edge for however much time we had left, but ultimately could not for safety reasons. It was hard to come all that way and not see the crater and the view around Fuji.
After making a quick bathroom break, which was really a squatter, we bought some fresh, dry gloves, took some pictures at the pillar monument, and decided to head down.
Compared to the ascent, the descent was only 2 hours 45 minutes. It was also zig-zagged, though the terrain never changed. It was loose lava, pea-sized gravel. My toes pushed into the toe of my boots. Over time, my big toes became quite sore. In the end, I finished the descent with one cracked toenail and a blister between two toes. Not bad, I think.
During the hike down, I realized we were surrounded by some beautiful plants. They were so lime green that they almost appeared to glow. The rocks were lovely as well - a rainbow of colors, but mostly red and turquoise.
There was one truly inspiring story I saw unfolding on that mountain. On the descent, we passed a young Japanese girl moving very slowly while her family encouraged her. This girl had one foot that was inverted, like a club foot - yet she made it up that mountain! My friend and I wanted to cry. It made all our obstacles pale in comparison.
Once down the mountain, we stopped for something to eat and did a little souvenir shopping. I had an "American dog," a.k.a. corn dog. It was much different from a true American corn dog, but I was thankful for it. Finally, I stopped at the post office to mail a few postcards before heading back to the bus.
I slept awhile on the ride back to base and woke up just as they were playing a video - "Touching the Void." It's a documentary about the perilous and near-fatal climb of two friends. It was an appropriate topic and made me wonder if I could ever do the kind of climbing required to scale a 20,000-foot mountain. I'm not convinced that's an undertaking for me, but I won't rule it out. Like Confucius said, "the journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step." This was my single step. I'm just not sure yet where the journey will lead. I'm excited to find out!
When I was little, I recall my mom saying on more than one occasion," don't make a mountain out of a molehill." She was teaching me to assess a situation honestly, not exaggerating the intensity of the problem.
I believe this attitude has helped me conquer many obstacles in life. Some of them have truly been "molehills," while others have been mountains. My molehills and mountains have consisted of things like moving around the world every three years, deployments, family illnesses, college, miscarriage, molestation at 12, and widowhood at 23.
On August 23, I climbed Mt. Fuji. It was the most physically difficult thing I've ever done in my life. At times I felt my body wouldn't make it. I was pushed to what I thought was the limit of my capabilities, and yet I conquered that 12,388-foot mountain! Though the altitude, wind, rain, and cold took a toll on me physically, mentally those obstacles had become molehills to me. I had given myself no other option than to see the top of that mountain!
If I had stopped years ago and applied this logic and tenacity to my obesity, I imagine I would have conquered that sooner as well. I was perfectly capable of literally climbing a mountain. The problem was that I had turned my weight into a figurative mountain so much larger-than-life, that my mind could not overcome it. Now, I realize that it was my mind preventing me from succeeding at my weight loss, not physical limitations. Turning molehills into mountains helped me defeat myself before I even got started!
So, today is a celebration - a celebration of overcoming great obstacles! I glow with joy for reaching the top of my literal mountain. Mostly though, I glow from the realization that somewhere deep inside me is the strength and fortitude to overcome obstacles both large and small. See, the important lesson my mom taught me is not to determine which is a mountain and which is a molehill, but that I can conquer them all.
Okay, so we were back in Chinatown today. We joined several friends for lunch at a very interesting Chinese restaurant. I'm not sure if I've shared with everyone about the sushi-go-round restaurants here in Japan. These restaurants have small servings of sushi dishes that run on a conveyor belt around the restaurant. The belt passes in front of each seat, where each person then reaches and grabs a plate and digs in.
The restaurant cost 1260 yen for me and 630 yen for Koen. It was all you can eat. We were able to try about 10 different dishes, including: eggplant; dumplings filled with greens and onions; wontons filled with I don't know what; chicken with cashews, peppers, onions, celery and eggplant; and a coconut milk cake. That only barely scrapes the surface of the dishes they had to offer.
My husband is going to be in love! I can't wait to take him there. It'll be our first stop after he's back from deployment.
Last Friday, Koen and I headed to Chinatown with friends for the Chinese New Year celebration. Two words describe the festivities, loud and colorful. There were probably several thousand people lining the streets to watch the parade.
The parade included women dancing, people in festive costumes, and several lions doing the Chinese lion dance. All of this was followed up by a metal cage being pulled along by a Chinese man who occasionally tossed a large pack of firecrackers into the cage, which filled the air with incessant popping and smoke.
One of the costumes was of a large, tall, barrel-chested Chinese man. The character had a large plastic head with movable eyes the size of a grapefruit. Each time he would jump up and down, the eyes would blink just like a baby doll. He was quite rolly poly.
Without a doubt, the lion dance was the neatest part of the parade. The colors were vivid - red, pink, blue, silver, turquoise, yellow, gold, and black. Each lion weaved in and out of the crowd "pouncing" on innocent bystanders. Koen stood along the edge of the street as the lions appeared before us. He didn't so much as flinch, but was completely unmoved and stoic. The turquoise lion made its approach shaking its head slightly and rising menacingly into the air as if to intimidate Koen. Still, he was unshakable. Then it happened, the lion moved swiftly and enveloped Koen. It seemed to swallow him whole and just when I knew all was lost, Koen emerged victorious, having survived his "attacker." He was elated and now could claim some bragging rights (sort of). By the way, my friend Naoko says the lion's head coming down on you like this brings good luck.
Another highlight of the parade was seeing Po from Kung Fu Panda, and the two men in costumes below. They seemed somehow celestial. Their faces were painted and they carried swords. At times they would stop their forward movement and engage one another in mock battle. Swords flew, bodies spun, and they energetically threw themselves into the air.
All of this was so exciting that Koen and I ran ahead of the parade. We had to take it all in once more before it was over. We wound the corner and followed the widening curve of people down the street weaving in and out of throngs of Japanese people, all the while looking for a break in the bodies to get to the street's edge. No luck.
With the crowd impeding Koen's view he wound up on my shoulders - a motherly sacrifice to be sure. If you haven't seen him for a while, he's over 70 pounds. Getting him up there was fun. Japanese people around me stared as we went through the process. The bird's eye view only lasted about five minutes, after which a lady on the street's edge reached through, grabbing Koen and pulling him to the front. I was very thankful. So was Koen.
After enduring the final blasts of the firecrackers, we were ready for some dinner.
Chinatown is one of those places where it's just as easy to eat dinner standing alongside a vendor's stand on the street as it is to sit down at a restaurant. There are plenty of both. We decided to head to a vendor known, by our friend Ashley, to have the best gyoza.
On the way, we stumbled onto the Kanteibyo temple (Buddhist). To say that the temple gate was ornate is a gross understatement. It was absolutely beautiful. Scores of people were climbing the steps, arming themselves with incense before penetrating the inner workings of the temple. I found myself drawn by curiosity. People left their incense sticks sticking upright in large bowls at various numbered stations. One lady stood the whole time we were there praying with her eyes closed at station one. On the inside was a large statue of Kuan Yu (Guan Yu). There were offerings on an altar before him. As a Christian, I've never seen such a blatant display of idolatry. It was fascinating and sad and I walked away feeling thankful to know the one true God.
In the end, we found our gyoza stand and partook of some pretty good eats. Ashley was right, it was excellent. They also made a variety of Chinese steamed buns called baozi. Koen and I tried one with pork, shrimp, veggies, and spices. Boy was that delicious! Chinese food is one of my favorites! We had fun just standing there eating our baozi. (In Japan you don't walk around eating food. It's more proper to stand in place next to the vendor stand and consume your food before walking around.)
On the way out of Chinatown, we stopped by an antique store. I found a Japanese doll in a case that was really beautiful, so I inquired about it. Long story short, I bought four Japanese dolls of various genders, sizes, and dress, for 5000 yen. That's less than $50. I was thrilled and some friend or family member may be the lucky recipient of one of my good fortunes.
We all had a great time and look forward to going again next year. Although... we don't have to wait until next year to visit Chinatown. We're going again today to sightsee with friends. What adventure awaits us this time? Hmm...we'll see.
We took a field trip with a group of homeschooled families to Motobu, Okinawa yesterday. Our first stop was a recreational area called the Motobu Wellness area, where the kids made salt from seawater and traditional Japanese cookies. They all seemed to have a good time making the cookies and an even better time eating them. They tasted a little like sugar cookies and had a different texture and a slightly chalky aftertaste.
excited 
