Pizza Hut, Frozen Drinks, 2007

1. Four words: Sausage and Pineapple Pizza. There wasn’t a shrimp, crab, or raw egg in sight, just as it should be.

2. After some searching we found a blender, resulting in tasty homemade strawberry daiquiris. I thought they went well with our evening game of cards.

3. Everyone managed to stay awake until midnight rang across the island, which meant we got to share the first few minutes of the new year with each other.

Footprints, Preening, Bali Hai

1. Walking along the beach and coming across tiny, perfectly formed footprints in the silky sand. When I close my eyes, I can almost see a little boy or girl hand-in-hand with daddy, toddling wide-eyed and laughing along the shoreline.

2. Our condo has a full-length mirror in the living room, which was the perfect place to pose and model a pretty outfit made up of all newly purchase things, with the exception of my wedding ring.

3. Ash & I are treated to an amazing restaurant with a gorgeous view of the mountains of Kaua’i to one side and the ocean beyond. We feasted on shrimp and prawns while watching the clouds above the mountains burst into flame from the setting sun before smoldering into smoky purples & blues.

Snorkeling, Nice View, Christmas Aroma

1. Swimming along the coral reef and suddenly finding yourself surrounded by a silvery school of fish while you were preoccupied with squinting at the rocks below. My favorites were the perch-like fish with red-tipped fins and crest resembling a mohawk, which I nicknamed Punks of the Sea.

2. Gazing out from a balcony at the deep green-ridged mountains rising from the center of the island, with swirling clouds ever present around the peaks. It makes for an incredible backdrop to the clear emerald and aqua sea.

3. The pleasing scents of cinnamon and pine filling the air from the flickering candles strategically placed around the family room.

Jungle Fowl, Tree Tunnel, Pomegranate

1. Watching the "Kings of the Road" proudly strutting up and down the windy stretch through Waimea Canyon as if they truly do own the place. This doesn’t stop the mothers from keeping a close eye on their chicks.

2. Driving through the “Tree Tunnel” a fellow at our dinner table last night couldn’t say enough good things about. While far from the magical experience described, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory of his enthusiasm. I suspect it had something to do with having his girlfriend snuggled up behind him on a motorbike.

3. Peeling a ripe pomegranate in record time and feeling the thrill a treasure hunter must when coaxing precious ruby red jewels out of their pithy nests with a gentle but firm touch.

Hot Stones, By the Sea, South Pacific

1. The hot stone massage I enjoyed burned away any stiffness lingering from the long flight over. But the absolute best part was watching my mother-in-law emerge from hers with a serene smile on her face and a gentle glide in her step.

2. Coming across a wonderful store we had overlooked yesterday, nestled in the corner of a marketplace in Kapa’a. It was here I found what I had been searching for in the way of sundresses, along with lovely unique jewelry and a friendly sales lady who was interesting to chat with.

3. It seemed appropriate to see a dinner theater performance of “South Pacific” on the same island where the 1958 movie was shot. There’s nothing more delightful than seeing a charming portrayal of a character that could easily fall into one-dimensionality.

No Smoking, Perfect, Luau

1. I’d forgotten that there were places where a “No Smoking” policy is carried out by every establishment in the city, or in this case, on the island. It’s a breath of fresh air to eat without being in a constant cloud of smoke wafting over from the next table.

2. The climate reminds me of my cousin’s cabin in WA, which I had once declared to be absolutely perfect and ideal for yours truly. The air is balmy, crisp and clear with no hint of dampness, and carries a mellow breeze to soften the kisses streaming down from the bright sun above.

3. Having my expectations of the evening luau shattered wasn’t pleasant at first, until I realized the reason for the (apparently) poor planning that led to us eating the buffet in a ballroom filled with red and green Christmas décor instead of on the beach. The main building had burned down quite recently (with its charred remains still visible and yellow caution tape all around). This new piece of information changed the evening from one of disappointment into an opportunity to observe a flurry of improvisation in action. All things considering, I was quite impressed with their efforts.

Christmas Story, Puzzle, Fireworks, Bonus-Example

1. Listening to Pop read Luke 2 and reflecting on the incredible day when God became a man to be a Savior to all.

2. All four of us working together to complete a 500 piece puzzle in a single day.

3. Oceanic fireworks displayed by roaring waves throwing themselves at a cliff against the backdrop of the fiery setting sun.

Bonus (since it is Christmas after all): My husband's parents never cease to be an example of the love, generosity and thoughtfulness we are called upon to display by our Creator each and every day.

Picturesque, All for One, Swimming

1. Lunch on a nearby hotel terrace that affords a spectacular view of the deep green ridge mountains ahead and sparkling aqua ocean below.

2. Spending the day at the beach soaking in the sun while reading The Three Musketeers and watching my husband and his parents snorkel in the clear green water.

3. Venturing into the Pacific’s gentle, yet powerful embrace for the first time in far too long. I don’t snorkel this time, but splashing around with my husband and floating up and down in the warm water as waves roll under me provides just as much joy.

Checklist, Omiyagi, Rook

1. Getting all our necessary errands out of the way so we can relax for the remainder of our vacation.

2. Finishing three-fourths of our obligatory omiyagi (souvenir gifts) shopping. It reminds us that we still need to think Japanese for a few more months.

3. Settling around the glass dining room table and beginning the important task of working that Rook* itch out of our blood.

*We play a different version than the one described here, which is essentially a melding of the two variations my in-laws grew up with.

Music, At Last, Arrival

(Did anyone else do a double-take at the sight of two 3BTs on the same day? I guess this is what happens when you bend the fabric of time and re-live a day in a different place.)

1. We open the windows, filling our condo unit with the music of a garden waterfall nearby.

2. The release from physical agony to deep, dreamless sleep after 36 hours of travel.

3. Waking up to the voices of my in-laws bustling through the front door. It’s good to be together again.

Audacity, Packing, Preparation

1. The magnificent clouds appearing in our town that result in stunning sunsets. Last night they were a brooding, stormy blue that clustered thickly along the sky in wide streaks, allowing glimpses of the soft warm blue of the canopy above between each row to create a vivid 3-D effect. At the far western end the blue colour stopped abruptly, as if the deep crimson of the setting sun had carved itself a place where no other hue was allowed to dwell. The sight took my breath away, leaving me with the feeling that I had just witnessed some sort of daring indiscretion.

2. Watching the deft, expert touch of my husband transform piles of clothing into the smart, neatly packed contents of suitcases seen in travel magazines.

3. Freshly manicured toenails reflecting a pearly sheen, ready to show themselves off beneath a sundress on a warm beach somewhere.

No Price is Too High...

… to embarrass a Japanese comedian on his birthday. His 39th birthday, to be exact. At Universal Studios, in front of young and old alike.

I mean, consider what 8 million yen can buy you:

• the construction of a float bearing a giant paper mache likeness of the birthday boy


• an effeminate pastel bodysuit that glitters like the pink star-tipped wand the comedian will have to don upon his person


• an entire parade’s worth of dancers


• a special parade that will take place on Universal Studio’s Main Street

This doesn’t include the priceless expressions on the faces of parents when the comedian is, in all his pink & yellow glory, dragged from atop the float to the street to engage in a dance he doesn’t know the steps to and a choreographed fight he is destined to win, once he figures out the key to victory is waving his wand at the bad guys.

And to think, I would have just used the money to entice my husband to quit his job and travel around the country for a while.

Blending In, Practical Exercise, Flip the Switch

1. My watch is broken. While not in and of itself a beautiful thing, it has transformed my keitai (cell phone) into my primary on-the-move timepiece… and another piece of cultural camouflage falls into place.

2. The 20 minute bike ride to my Japanese lesson that gets my heart pumping while serving a practical purpose. It reminds me of other unavoidable, yet strangely enjoyable cardiovascular workouts, such as racing from one end of a very large college campus to the other in 10 short minutes… multiple times in a day.

3. Spending an entire English Conversation hour talking about Harry Potter. I’m always pleasantly surprised when a junior-high student is eager to engage in active communication instead of stoically staring down wishing the ground would rise up and end their misery. Sometimes all it takes is a topic he or she finds interesting.

Spouse Not Included

*telephone rings*

Me: Moshi moshi.

Man: Konbanwa. This is Mr. D from City Hall.

Me: Hi Mr. D!

(insert small talk with Mr. Dedicated, a.k.a Board of Education Unofficial Translator Unofficially Yoinked From His Work and Given the Unofficial Responsibility of Taking Care of the Assistant Language Teachers)

D-san: I’m calling to tell you about the annual year end party. It will be held on the 27th of this month.

Me: The 27th?

D-san: Yes.

Me: I’m sorry, we won’t be able to make it this year. We will be gone.

D-san: Oh, is that so?

Me: Yes.

*silence*

D-san: Where are you going?

Me: We will be in Hawaii.

D-san: Oh really? Wow. That… that’s wonderful.

Me: We’re really looking forward to it.

*silence*

D-san: Just you?

Me: Um… no, both of us.

D-san: Oh. Your husband is going?

Me: … yes, he is.

D-san: Ah, okay.

Me: Sorry we won’t be able to make it.

D-san: No problem, have fun in Hawaii. Good-bye.

Me: Good-bye.

I hung up the phone feeling as if we’d just committed some sort of faux pau. This is entirely possible since it’s considered part of your duty as an employee to attend company parties, although nothing would ever be said out loud.

More than anything, I was a little bemused by yet another natural assumption reversal that brings my ever evolving mental image of Japan closer to the Twilight Zone. Back home, it’s abnormal to go on vacation without one’s spouse, and the unspoken state of togetherness goes unchallenged unless otherwise stated. Here it’s the other way around; to not actively mention the accompaniment of your husband or wife means just that- they will be elsewhere.

Mr. D isn’t the first person we know of to operate from this plane of reality; another Japanese friend of ours travels to a different country every month or so, and she’s just as likely to be with her husband as without, and vice versa.

The head tilt I tend to do when something catches me by surprise is getting quite a lot of practice these days.

we’re not in Colorado anymore

Taco Town

Oh SNL, you are brilliant.

I remember the lunch runs to Taco Bell during my college days, thanks to its winning combination of cheap, decent-tasting fare and a close location that made walking there, ordering, walking back to the Green Room, and eating in 50 short minutes possible.

And as strange as some of the combinations could be, the double-up menu was nice for those of us who couldn’t decide which lone pseudo-Mexican dish we desired that day.

The Math Says it All

The Short Version:
Fire + Loincloths = Hilarity

The Longer Version:
Two men dressed only in white loincloths shiver as the night’s dusting of rain gives their trembling skin an iridescent sheen. They stand side by side, arms folded across their chests and necks craning to watch the black-clad man behind them. This man is a good 25 yards away, at the point where both their loincloths end.

Yes. These men are wearing loincloths that stretch 25 yards behind them.

At a pre-determined signal, the man in black brandishes two flaming torches and touches each loincloth on the ground simultaneously. A good soak in some sort of flammable liquid is the only feasible explanation for the white cloth’s embrace of the fire so readily in such a wet environment.

The scantily clad men freeze as twin lines of flame race toward them at a startling pace, leaving nothing but black dust in their wake as they hungrily devour the fabric… fabric that was once connected to their waist.

I imagine it’s kind of like being tied to a pile of explosives and watching the burning fuse creep ever closer to your impending doom.

Still they wait.

And wait.

Why do they wait, unblinking eyes glued to the greedy element coming to greet them?

Apparently, it’s a contest… to see who will allow the fire to come the closest to burning the only piece of clothing adorning them… and quite possibly some flesh along with it.

Finally, one contestant can no longer take the pressure. He bolts forward like a startled buck, running as fast as he can towards the steaming pool of water set 50 yards in front of him. A half-second later, his opponent follows at full-speed.

Sparks fly from the loincloths that flutter behind them as the fires continue their relentless pursuit, undeterred by the sudden rush of wind.

Their waists begin to glow like embers as the flames reach their goal… and are almost immediately quenched after some desperate pool-side belly flops.

Up they come, gasping for air… ending with the characteristic abruptness that marks Japanese television, and we’re carried off into the night by yet another eating show.

Math has its uses.

lawyers are not welcome here

James Bond

My husband and I went to see the newest James Bond movie, complete with Japanese subtitles. Recently I was informed by a friend that the only English movies appearing in theaters that are ever dubbed are the ones that mainly target children. This pleases us, as it’s one less accident waiting to happen the one time we want to give our brains a break from puzzling out the meaning of Japanese sentences.

Right now a badly cut James Bond movie (The World is Not Enough) is being shown on television to “encourage” the public to go see the latest installment. The funny thing is, I can’t do much of anything but cringe at the cheese-factor. Casino Royale is by far one of the best Bond flicks I’ve seen; Daniel Craig played a truer-to-the-book Bond, the director kept things tasteful, and the script was well-written. Best of all, I can’t recall any corny innuendo-laden lines that made me writhe in silent agony at the assault on my ears. Most of the other Bond movies (mostly the latest ones) are hard for me to watch, and I am being painfully reminded why.

Nevertheless, the movie companies have a pretty sweet set-up going on with Japan’s government-run television network when it comes to new picture promotion, since every single household in Japan who has a television is honor-bound to watch NHK. We’d probably fall for it more often if paying the equivalent of $15 per person to soak in the movie theater atmosphere didn’t make our wallets weep.

Luckily, only Harry Potter and Bond have proven splurge-worthy since our arrival.

We can only hope the current trend of mostly mediocre, uninspired motion pictures continues until we are on our native soil once again. The less temptation, the better.

Costco, No Escape, 30 Millet

1. Sauntering around one of the few Costco stores in Japan and the brief submergence into something undeniably American. It’s also fun to watch fellow shoppers who have little experience with titanic proportions wield shopping carts the size of small Japanese cars along the aisles.

2. A mouth-watering aroma lures us into the clutches of the Costco bakery, where there is no escaping the purchase of freshly-baked cheese bagels, even if we wanted to.

3. The attendant of a mall stand called “30 Millet” having the courage to speak to me in English as he’s ringing up my necklace purchase. It’s the first time I’ve ever been pegged as Brazilian. His delight and keen interest after learning my true origins (which don’t dampen when I casually mention my husband) reveal his own past of living in the states for 10 years and the awesome ability to carry on a normal-paced conversation in a foreign language.

Random Observation- Grocery Store

United States: We buy enough food in one fell swoop to feed the army that is our family for at least a week, quite possibly two. The combination of ample living space and huge food storage units (oh freezer that’s bigger than a microwave, how I miss you so) makes this possible, and even desirable in our quest to save time, gasoline, and hassle.

Japan: Fresh food is the pinnacle of delectability, which feeds the need for daily foraging and supersedes the otherwise coveted quality of convenience. While not everyone is limited to the foot locker of an icebox that we have (think the mini-fridge most commonly used for beer storage during college), it appears that simply having more space doesn’t erase a practice intricately woven into the society’s psyche.

We can follow these two distinct patterns of behavior without difficulty as they trickle down into the subconscious of one of the most basic, yet necessary steps : going through the check-out line… which brings me to my observation of the day.

Every single time I check-out of a grocery store (which is to say every single day), the check-out lady quietly informs me of the price of every single item in my basket, culminating in the total yen due. It doesn’t matter if I’m buying 3 things or 20, the price of each is faithfully stated at the moment the numbers flash on the register.

There’s no way that would ever happen in the states, if only because of the sheer volume filling the average cart. The total price is the only number uttered in the entire interaction... at least in my experience. I’d be interested to hear if there are exceptions to this generalization.

…now that I think about it, it’s not just food shops around here. It’s every store that sells tangible goods and products.

I hope this random little tidbit eases your mind the next time you’re in Japan, have a mind to purchase something (like a cheese bread thingy from a bakery… they’re quite tasty), and wonder what it is the check-out girl is muttering under her breath.

Or check-out boy. They’re not as common, but they do exist.

And if you do happen to make out what’s being said, a pleasant feeling of accomplishment will run through your veins, fueled by the fact that you have learned your Japanese numbers well enough to both recognize and comprehend them.

Yes, I am a simple soul...