Saying Goodbye to a Year of Changes

Finally I have a bit of time to write a long-overdue blog post. Now that the first month of 2012 is half over, I guess I'll take this time to say farewell to the year just ended.

2011. The Year of the Rabbit.

The Year Everything Changed.

I remember that, at this time a year ago, my biggest concern was for my kids; for them 2011 would be the Year of Hell as they prepared to take the entrance examinations necessary to get into the next level of schooling. My son intended to enter the junior high at Ye Olde Academy. My daughter, for various reasons, decided to go for Sawara High School, the highest-level public senior high in our area and Ye Olde Academy's staunchest rival. In any case, it looked to be a year of academic prison for both of them, as pretty much every hour not spent at school, at their cram schools, or in bed would be marked for study, with their mother ready and willing to relieve them of their scalps should they think otherwise. I knew well that it was going to be a heated battle of wills, and there would be lots of family squabbles about the matter, not that tension was new to our household.



As winter neared its end, other issues began to come into focus. I had finally been invited to join the KSJ Special Project (the staff band for the annual Kashima Jazz Festival, itself something of a municipal jazz project for the entire Rokko District of Ibaraki Prefecture) but had yet to attend any of their meetings or rehearsals. Although I was happy to become a part of the team, I had trouble getting my schedule to match theirs. I also continued to give priority to the Kashima Philharmonic Orchestra, and it was hard for me to justify participating in both groups while my wife continued to be insanely busy with her job and at home. Meanwhile, in the Ye Olde Academy Music Club, it became increasingly clear that our peak-level ensembles would soon be losing almost all of their strength with not much left to fill in the gaps. As the March date of the annual Regular Concert drew near, the mood among the teachers that direct the club became increasingly mournful. Mssr. Maestro Ogawa even spoke of putting the club in maintenance mode for the year and terminating all performances. Even as my status on ReverbNation improved, and people were really starting to listen to my music and even request it to be made commercially available, music itself was becoming an increasing source of stress.



The end of winter was also the beginning of the Hikari Wars. As fiber optic cable ("hikari cable") service was FINALLY due to arrive in my neighborhood at the end of February, I suddenly found myself being bombarded by calls from very persistent phone salesmen, all claiming to be proxy firms representing NTT (the Japanese phone company), all sounding suspiciously like the same people, and all trying very hard to railroad me into using an internet provider called iNext. iNext was said to be the fastest-growing company in Japan at the time, but no one seemed to have heard of them, let alone knew anything about them, so I decided to steer clear. They tried all kinds of pushy and unscrupulous tactics to get me to sign up, even telling me at one point that iNext was my only possible choice if I wanted to use fiber optic service. Calls direct to NTT and Yahoo cleared that BS, and soon I had fiber optic phone and internet service of my own choice.



Two weeks later, it was as if the world had ended. With just five minutes left in my last class of the day on March 11, one of the worst earthquakes in Japan's history came as if from nowhere. It brought with it a tsunami of biblical proportions and set in motion a seemingly endless chain reaction of destructive aftershocks. To the north, along the coast of the Tohoku Region, whole cities were erased. Tens of thousands of lives were lost. Here in southeast Ibaraki, we were fortunate in that we just lost our entire infrastructure. Roads were rendered impassable. Bridges collapsed. Water, power, and phone services were knocked out. Unable to leave the school until well into the freezing night, but still not sure of the safety of the buildings, the faculty and students at Ye Olde Academy camped out in a makeshift tent village in the middle of the rugby field. I was finally given clearance to go home, but I arrived to darkness. It would be days before we had power. It was a whole week before we had running water (but we were lucky in that we had a backup well). Even with our utilities restored, food and gasoline were scarce and rationed for over a month. There was also the very real threat of radioactive fallout from the damaged Fukushima No. 1 Nuclear Power Plant. It was an apocalypse that tested our mettle and reminded us that we should never take anything for granted.

The earthquake disrupted everything in its wake. All March events including graduation ceremonies and our Regular Concert were canceled. The new school year started in April in uncertainty as buildings, nerves, and schedules were patched together. For a while it seemed like everything was paralyzed as we just did our best to function from day to day.

Less than a month into the new school year, the teacher in charge of Grade 9 English told me he was too busy to manage the job himself and asked for my help. When I agreed, he proceeded to put my name down as the person in charge instead of his; while he continued to set policy (mostly in accordance with his philosophies behind my back), I got stuck with the busy work and the reputation...and got constantly railed at and attacked if I did anything except according to his method and schedule. It got old really fast, but the year was still just getting started. Even when my wife's grandmother died in June, leaving me with all kinds of family obligations, I found myself under attack...and the target of a monumental guilt trip for daring to put my "personal affairs" ahead of the "school" (i.e. Grade 9 English chores). There were some screaming battles in the staff room, and I threatened to quit my job more than once, and I was a lot more serious than they probably thought. In the end, I just had to stand my ground where I could and hope we could get things done as reasonably as possible.

The death of my wife's grandmother was in itself a big change in the scheme of things, though not unexpected. Mourning requirements also meant that all trips and celebrations were off for the rest of the year. Not that there was time for any; my daughter discovered that there was no longer any bus service going to Sawara High School from our area, so she switched her target to Ye Olde Academy. That meant a harder entrance exam and even more demanding preparation.

Summer ended, and fall meant the annual School Festival. The class for which I'm assistant homeroom teacher was planning to do a musical. I couldn't wait to help out. Unfortunately, the homeroom teacher and students completely locked me out. (The homeroom teacher said that he was afraid to ask me to do anything, partly because of my higher age and partly because of the screaming fights I'd had with the "chief" English teacher of the grade. As for the students, they just told me not to worry about it.) I was content to focus my efforts on the music club's projects, but I was still very hurt and pissed off about it, and the wound still hasn't fully healed even though I worked well with the class during our grade's trip to Okinawa in October.

Perhaps as a result of all the stress, as well as new interests encountered on Facebook, I finally got myself a genuine tube amp for my guitars. That also encouraged me to do a considerable overhaul of my guitar and studio gear, which meant a mad buying spree. A new guitar would probably still have been more expensive, but I still dropped a lump.

I was finally able to perform with the KSJ Special Project jazz band, and as my activities with them increased, so did my overall standing. Other than the Kashima Jazz Festival in November, perhaps the high point was a Christmas Eve performance I did with them at a jazz club in Kamisu. Together with the pro rhythm section, I improvised on Christmas songs on the spur of the moment...something that had been neither planned nor expected...and kept getting called back to do more impromptu stints in support of other acts. I apparently attracted some attention, and it's hard to say how it'll pan out.

Now we are into 2012. Both my kids passed their entrance exams and will be going to Ye Olde Academy. The Kashima Philharmonic Orchestra was finally able to hold the concert that was supposed to have happened last summer. Meanwhile, I'm told that my job is probably going to change completely when the new school year starts next April. I'm not sure what I'll be doing, and I'm not sure I like the hints I'm getting, but we'll see. At any rate, 2012 is going to be a completely different chapter in my Life in the Land of the Rising Sun. This much is certain.

Happy (belated) New Year, everybody!

The End of a Blue Era?

I started driving when I was 18 (though the driving age in Oregon is 16), but I didn't get my first car until I was 26, about a year and a half after arriving in Japan. It was one of those tiny, 3-cylinder mini cars you'd never see in the US, though they're quite common here. Specifically, it was a Suzuki Alto, red in color, and already very well used by the time I bought it from a friend for less than a week's pay.


(Yep...it looked just like this!)

You have to understand; those things are not built to last, and considering it was a first generation model (meaning it was at least ten years old when I got it) with a lot of mileage on its odometer, it got howls of surprise every time I took it in for a tuneup or oil change. It did have its share of problems, though, and after I'd loved it, nursed it, and cursed it for a few years it finally just died. (Actually, I have reason to believe that a vindictive punk at a gas station put sugar in my gas tank, but whatever...) Thus I came to buy my second car, which was...another well-used Alto, white in color. Actually, it was an "l'Epo" model, which was a little larger, fancier, and included such luxuries as air conditioning and a tape deck, which were both very welcome.


(It looked more or less like this...though not in such good condition.)

Nevertheless, though I'd bought it from a very reputable mechanic on the recommendation of several people, it turned out to be a bigger headache than the older Alto had been, and repair bills for such things as an exploding timing belt (and related catastrophic engine damage) added up. When its battery died while I was at work, I made the perhaps fortuitous mistake of letting my American manager at the time take it in for repairs while I taught my classes. He allowed the mechanic he'd picked at random to "improve" the car (so he could sell me a larger battery), and it wound up frying the electronics. Next came the Daihatsu Mira, another bare-bones (white) mini car but bought in nearly-new conditon.


(It looked just like this!)

It turned out to be a very good machine, and it never gave me any trouble in three years of use despite my abusive treatment (read "frequent trips to Tokyo on the expressway cruising well above its rated speed"). I probably would have used it for far longer if passenger and cargo space hadn't become an issue. Finally, in 2000, I bought my first new, full-sized car. That was the BLUE RAV4. It has been my faithful friend ever since.


(Here's a snowy shot of my BLUE pal on a snowy day 5 years ago)

Now, perhaps inevitably, it is starting to show its age. After a decade virtually free of any need of repair, let alone major repairs, problems are starting to appear. I guess it all started exactly one year ago, when a broken fan belt pulley required seriously complicated repairs right on Christmas Eve. Now this year, no doubt to some extent because of my having to drive on all those earthquake-damaged roads, I've so far needed:

• a complete overhaul of the steering mechanism, which was bent out of shape and partly broken. Some parts had to be replaced,
• a thorough examination and adjustment of the brakes, which were making weird noises and not working well. They never did find the cause, and though they're now working better, they're still not quite right...and still making noise,
• realignment of the wheels after only a couple of months,
• replacement of all four tires, which had become deformed,
• a refill of the oil, which was more or less empty only two months after the last change.

Once all these repairs were complete, I was warned in no uncertain terms that, now that the BLUE RAV4 is more than ten years old and has more than 250,000 kilometers on it, the problems are going to start multiplying. This was coupled with a not-so-subtle hint that I should start thinking about getting a new car.

I admit that I have been thinking about it, and now I'm thinking about it more seriously. The question is what model to get. I suppose I could get a new-model RAV4, but there's another type that I'm seriously eyeballing right now. It offers a number of advantages, would be more convenient overall, and would be more economical even with 4WD. I won't say what it is unless I decide to get one. There's just one problem: they don't currently offer it in BLUE.

Catching Up a Bit

Good grief (if there is such a thing)...it has been more than a month since I've updated this blog. I guess the Okinawa posts wore me out. Either that or I'm spending wayyyyyy too much time on Facebook. Actually, it's probably both. For now, at least, I'll just try to catch up on recent events for the sake of my readers here who DON'T use Facebook.

Part One: Kashima Jazz vol. 8
They stopped calling it the Kashima Seaside Jazz Festival last year; now it's simply "Kashima Jazz". This year's installment happened on November 19th. As usual, it was a six-hour marathon of music combining pro and amateur acts. As usual, I gave the DJ-style opening greeting. As usual, my school jazz band, the Flying Eggheads, made an appearance. As usual, by sheer dumb luck (though it seems to happen every year), the event coincided with an important event at Ye Olde Academy, making our participation a complicated, migraine-inducing mess.

There was one important difference this year. Although I've always participated in the Festival as director of the Flying Eggheads, and have done various things in support of the event and its staff, this was the first time that I was actually a member of the staff. I was asked to join after last year's event, and though I told them my participation would be limited at best, I've still appeared with them in a number of small concerts over the past year. I also took the stage with KSJ Special Project, the staff band, as the opening act. We had a professional rhythm section, and I stood in the front row together with our band captain (a saxophone teacher and quite a talented player) and a pro tenor sax player. I suppose I had cause to be a little intimidated, and I can't really say it was my best performance, but I had a very good time.

The other acts included a couple of combos, some of whose members were part of the KSJ SP performance, a rather avantgarde ensemble that included violin, accordion, hand percussion, piano and poetry, among other things, and a civic youth band from Shizuoka. The headlining act (which wasn't last) was a well-known pro pianist who graduated from the Berklee College of Music. Backed by an excellent trio with an American drummer, she played long, complicated arrangements of well-known tunes that often included several pieces stacked together if not mixed. The concert bill was finalized by my own Flying Eggheads who, though they are rather weak and inexperienced now, turned in by far their best performance of the year; they were clearly excited and in the groove, and I could tell they were thrilled when it was done.

Part Two: Speaking of Music...
I've been putting as much time into my home studio as I can, and all the new gear I've bought is getting used quite a bit. I'm still not satisfied with it, and will probably get a few more items in the near future, but I'm still able to do a lot more now than I used to be. Even so, I have yet to come up with anything that I'd consider suitable for next year's Torycon (All Japan Amateur Recording Contest). After having been selected as a Judge's Pick this year, I'm giving it a lot more thought...though that might end up working against me. Maybe I'll try remaking some older stuff.

Part Three: Down in the Old Homestead
Frankly speaking, I'm fed up with being an education family, which was never my idea to begin with. All those trips hauling the kids back and forth between home and their cram school lessons are eating up a helluva lot of time, not to mention gasoline. Those still earthquake-damaged roads in the Hinode area near the cram school haven't exactly been good for my BLUE RAV4, either. I've already had to have bent stabilizer rods for the steering system replaced. Five months after my mandatory vehicle inspection, my alignment is clearly off, there are friction noises coming from one of the wheels, and the brakes are being goofy. The cram school headmaster says that both my kids will have no problem getting into Ye Olde Academy, but I have to say I hope it'll be worth even have the cost.

There has also been a price in terms of family stability. My wife in particular is very stubborn about my kids' study habits (read "She won't let them have lives until the tests are done"). The kids, on the other hand, are clearly fed up. We basically can't do anything. We can't even watch videos. My "to be watched" pile is still piled high and will probably only get higher until the entrance exams are done with. It has been kind of frustrating, and there has been a lot of tension.

Meanwhile, my wife's stress over her job has been mounting, while my own job situation has also been very tense. She keeps having other teachers' work dumped on her, for which she rarely gets any credit, and the products of those efforts quite often wind up being ignored. In my case, all the reasons for which I was initially hired by Ye Olde Academy, my main reasons for being there in the first place, are slowly and quietly being taken away. Right now I have no idea at all what I'm going to be doing next year, and I don't like the way things are shaping up. The work atmosphere at the school has been sucking, too, and the tension is seriously starting to get to me. I can't really imagine doing anything else at this point, but to be honest I'm not sure how much of this I can take.

Don't even get me started about my father-in-law...

Anyway, if something post-worthy comes up, I'll put something more substantial on here. For the time being, however, this will have to do.

The 2011 Okinawa Trip, Day Four

(Sorry about the long delay between Day Three and Day Four...; life got in the way again.)

It is said that there have been human inhabitants on the Ryukyu Islands for more than 32,000 years. It's not certain when a Japanese-speaking culture became dominant, but the local tongue diverged from Yamato Japanese sometime before the 7th century to become the Ryukyuan language (now referred to as "Okinawa dialect", though it is a distinct language). It wasn't until the 12th century that true rulers with organized forces appeared, and a couple hundred years of squabbling between them finally ended with the victory of King Sho Hashi and the establishment of the peaceful Ryukyu Kingdom in the 14th century.

Traditional Ryukyuan buildings looked more Chinese than Japanese, and for a good reason. The old Ryukyu Kingdom maintained very close cultural, commercial, and political ties with both Korea and China and was a vassal of the latter. Even after the Satsuma invasion in the 17th century, which brought the Ryukyus under Japanese control, the Ryukyu king continued to give tribute to and hold audience with the Chinese Emperor clear until the Meiji Restoration in the late 1860's asserted the absolute rulership of the Japanese Emperor.

Even today, buildings with traditional Okinawa-style roofs are clearly different from their mainland Japanese counterparts. Not only are the tiles usually a sandy color rather than gray or red-brown, but they are firmly cemented together. (Refer to the pics of Ryukyu Village in Day One for examples.) This makes perfect sense considering Okinawa gets far more typhoons than any other part of Japan.

Sadly, also because of the often violent weather, traditional-style buildings have disappeared from Okinawa even more quickly than in the Japanese mainland. The overwhelming majority of homes in better-developed areas are brick or cement boxes with flattish roofs.



Even so, there are distinct Okinawan features even in modern homes in Naha like this one. Note the statues on the roof over the front porch. They are shi-sa, a sort of demon lion/dog from Okinawan mythology. Ancient houses used to have them on their roofs as a sort of talisman to ward off evil. Nowadays, it is quite common for homes to have them on their gateposts or over their front doors, as can be seen here. Shi-sa usually come in pairs, one with its mouth open, the other with its mouth closed. (It's believed that one of each is best because the one with an open mouth will spread good tidings, whereas the one with its mouth closed doesn't spread evil gossip.) There is no equivalent on the Japanese mainland.

There are other differences to be found, as well. For example, Okinawan houses are almost always of a very pale color if not white. The reason is simple: lighter colors reflect the intense subtropical sun and help keep the home cooler. Virtually every home also has a tank on the roof to collect rainwater since fresh water is rather scarce and wells are almost useless in many areas.

Tamaudun
Our visit to Okinawa is near its end. We have only to take a brief tour of a couple of famous and historically significant landmarks before heading to the airport. First on the agenda is the ancient Royal Mausoleum known as "Tamaudun".

Tamaudun was built at the start of the 16th century as a tomb for the kings of the Second Sho Dynasty by the third one of that line. Interestingly, the Second Sho Dynasty had no ties whatsoever to King Sho Hashi at all; rather, it was started by a usurper who had overthrown the throne (overthrone the thrown?) but had assumed the Sho name out of respect for tradition (and a healthy fear of China).



Here's a view from just outside the outer wall. The mausoleum was actually carved directly into the rock and then walls built around it.



This stone tablet, said to be the second oldest known surviving example of its kind, bears the names of people who were deemed worthy to pass through the gate into the inner keep of the mausoleum without facing divine wrath. We ignored it and went through the gate anyway.



The eastern chamber, at left, contains(?) the washed bones of the king and queen. The center chamber, to the right of the tower (crowned by a shi-sa, another of which is out of view to the left), was a temporary tomb where bodies were placed in coffins until the bone-washing ceremony could take place.



The western chamber was where the remains of other members of the royal family or important people were placed.

The tombs were crafted to look like ordinary, wooden buildings though they are of stone...and very gloomy looking. Not so the place we went next...

Shurijo
Shurijo, or Shuri Castle, was the seat of power of the Ryukyu Kingdom from the time of its establishment by King Sho Hashi in the 14th century until Emperor Meiji put it under Imperial control in 1879, bringing the kingdom to an end. After the Ryukyu king was forced away to Tokyo to serve as an ambassador and a hostage, Shuri Castle was turned into the command center for the Imperial garrison overseeing the newly-declared Okinawa Prefecture.

Unfortunately, though Shuri Castle had been designated a national historic treasure well before World War II, the Imperial Army continued to use it as its headquarters in Okinawa. During the battle, the massive castle walls held off the American attack until the entire complex was blasted to rubble by a three-day bombardment from the battleship U.S.S. Mississippi.

The castle had apparently been destroyed and rebuilt several times during its lifetime, but after the war the site was used to construct the University of the Ryukyus. Then, just before Okinawa's reversion to Japanese administration, the university was relocated, and the final reconstruction of Shuri Castle was begun in earnest. Using a combination of old drawings and photos, historical records, and the memories of survivors, the entire complex was restored, culminating in the completion of the rebuilt main keep (seiden) in 1992. In 2000 Shuri Castle was named a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

* * *

Arrival at the last stop on our Okinawa tour proves to be difficult. As I feared, since Shuri Castle is one of the biggest attractions on this island, everyone and his shi-sa is here. All of the upper parking areas are packed, and the innovative underground garage for tour buses is also backed up. Basically, our buses have to wait in line, dump us off, and leave.

After that, we gather in front of the famous Shureimon gate, the front entrance to the castle complex which was also the first of its features rebuilt after World War II. (I don't have a pic I can post here, since all the ones I took show students' faces, so please check out the link.) Then we have only to wait our turn.

At least our wait has the luxury of some pretty flowers with lots of colorful butterflies flitting about them. (It's a shame I can't post the pic I took of a girl with a striking black and orange butterfly perched on her ponytail...) Finally, after what I fancied might be long enough to reconstruct yet another castle structure, we were finally let in. Thus began The Traversing of the Gates.



One of the features of Shuri Castle is its many gates. You have to pass through six of them to get to the inner keep. The outermost ones, not counting Shureimon, are stone arches with narrow wooden defensive structures on top. This one, Zuisenmon, consists of a larger wood structure straddling two limestone walls.



By the time you get to the inner parts, the gates are all wood, such as Koufukumon here, which also served as a residence for one of the magistrates during the Ryukyu era.



By the time you get to Koufukumon, you're rewarded with a wonderful view of the surrounding city. The building in the center of the pic is the Okinawa College of Art, which has traditional Okinawan tile roofs.



Finally...the inner keep (seiden) itself! It shows the Chinese influence on Okinawan architecture more than anything else in the castle complex...but I absolutely CANNOT get a good pic of it. It's certainly a lot bigger than it looks in this shot. Part of the problem is all the temporary structures they have set up for some kind of event. Another problem is that it's hard to find a clear view between all the tour groups. (This pic is the luckiest shot I manage to get before I'm dragged off to yet another obligatory group shot and then jostled between two more school groups.)(Please...check out the link!)(Here's one that also shows some traditional Okinawan-style tile roofs.)



The restored throne room inside the inner keep is sure impressive...far more colorful than anything I've seen in any other Japanese castle. Luckily, photos are allowed in this room.



Interestingly, there are places in the walls where new (or at least "newer") construction was built on top of older remains.



Finally...the march back down to the buses. This is NOT my school group. I got separated.



There are still some places where it looks like more reconstruction may happen in the future. Interesting how lost relics of the past might reappear in the future.

I finally find my school group down in the gift shop circle (Figures...) together with at least a dozen other school groups plus a lot of independent tourists. There we wait until our buses are able to get back into the parking garage. Then we board our buses for the last time and make the journey to the airport.

The airport ordeal is uneventful. The flight is smooth, easy, and quick. The bus ride back to Ye Olde Academy is an ear-splitting explosion of "glad to be home" jubilation, class camaraderie, and off-key singing. Delivering the kids to their parents in the south parking lot is the usual frosty chaos. As for me, I'm feeling the usual after-trip blues but focusing on trying to find wayward wanderers...and being ignored. Nothing new here. Move along...move along...

The trip is over. The kids have tomorrow off. Not me, though...I still have a class full of 11th graders to teach. I also have my Halloween preparations to take care of over the course of two days...in a country where Halloween is only barely acknowledged. Maybe I'll be lucky and manage to squeeze in just a bit of rest before Monday calls me out yet again.

THE END

The 2011 Okinawa Trip, Day Three

First...a Bit of History
After Emperor Meiji succeeded in removing the shoguns from power and reasserting imperial control toward the end of the 19th century, he set in motion a plan to reconstruct the country along more Western lines. The dialect of Tokyo was made the official language, and systems of administration and education were established based mainly on the British model. Efforts were made to adapt western technology and ways of thinking. One of the more significant of the latter was the concept of nationalism, i.e. loyalty to the nation and its sovereign rather than to a local lord. For perhaps the first time in Japanese history, the whole concept of being "Japanese" became a serious issue...and in some cases a divisive one.

Surprise military successes against China and Russia at the beginning of the 20th century caused the new nationalism to become even stronger and more militant. Ironically, though Japan entered WWI on the Allied side against Germany under newly-crowned Emperor Taisho, his weak rule gave rise to an explosion of democracy and intellectualism...and foreign debt. This changed quickly with the rise of Emperor Showa (Hirohito) at the end of the 1920's; determined not to let Imperial Japan fall under Western colonialism, he set the boots of militarism marching again, and democracy was quickly trampled underfoot. Soon the government was dominated by the military (as it had been under the shoguns). Schools were gradually turned into patriotic brainwashing camps. Harassment of people who spoke anything but the national tongue (i.e. Tokyo dialect) was institutionalized. Intellectuals and dissenters were often brutally intimidated if not accused of treason. The Shinto religion, including the worship of the Emperor as a god, became obligatory. Dissent in the occupied territories was cruelly crushed, which also helped feed the imperial ambitions of the military government.

In 1931, in response to a staged provocation, Japan invaded and occupied Manchuria. Then it began a series of border wars with the Soviet Union. The West responded by imposing sweeping economic sanctions on Japan coupled with a demand that the Japanese military be vastly downsized. Japan refused to give in, resulting in a decade of economic hardship and growing poverty which only fed the militarist sentiment. Finally, on December 8, 1941 (Japan time), multiple attacks were launched against the Pacific forces of the US and Britain. Thus began the Pacific War.

At first the forces of Imperial Japan were virtually unstoppable, and they claimed victory after victory against the Western colonial powers in the Pacific. However, only half a year after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Admiral Yamamoto's dire predictions came true; the "sleeping enemy" woke up, and with the somewhat miraculous victory at the Battle of Midway, the US turned the tide of the war for good.

Now America was unstoppable, and as the flag of the Rising Sun fell inexorably closer to home, the Japanese reasoned an invasion on their soil was inevitable. They also reasoned correctly that the Americans would try to take Okinawa first to use as a staging ground. Thus began a major defensive operation that was never meant to succeed. Indeed, Imperial Japan intended to use Okinawa only as a giant land mine, sacrificing it and its people in a hopeless war of attrition meant only to delay the enemy while defensive preparations were carried out on the mainland. Only a relatively small, token Imperial Army force remained in Okinawa. Meanwhile, the Okinawan Defense Force was organized in desperation...and often in violation of Japan's own laws. Guns (mainly obsolete surplus rifles dating from WWI) were given to any male members of the population able to carry them regardless of age or physical condition. Girl students and young women were pressed into service in support roles, often on the front lines. They were poorly trained, poorly equipped, and regarded by their Imperial Army superiors as little more than cannon fodder.

When the American attack force arrived, Japan sent thousands of planes to meet them (most of them kamikaze attack planes), but more than 90% were shot down before they got there. Similarly, the Imperial battleship Yamato, arguably the most powerful of the war, was sent to Okinawa with a one-way supply of fuel but was taken out by US aircraft before even getting close. Effectively unchallenged, the Americans started off with a heavy campaign of bombing and naval bombardment. Then the troops started landing on the beaches near Kadena. The Okinawan Defense Force was outnumbered, hopelessly outgunned, and had little in the way of support, and yet it dragged on through a battle that lasted three months...and became the one of the worst bloodbaths of the entire Second World War. And if the toll on the battlefield was bad...

* * *

The Cave of Life and Death, pt. I
The day I have long dreaded has finally arrived. It has very much to do with the principal theme of this whole trip, and as an American cursed with a conscience, I'm not relishing this. I will say that I have always intended to make this trip; as an American, I consider it an obligation. It doesn't make it any easier. None of my many visits to Hiroshima ever seemed to get easier. In some ways, this one might be even harder.

For the first part of the day's dark itinerary, our classes separate and go to different locations that are more or less the same thing. They all served the same function during the battle. They all saw the same atrocities. They are all "gama".


Not surprisingly, the one we visit is in a really eerie crevasse...

The "gama" are those among the many natural caves on the Okinawan coast which were designated as survival shelters. Their tunnels were expanded and rooms dug out in order to accommodate people during typhoons or other natural disasters. As it turned out, they wound up housing women, children, and the elderly during the battle plus Okinawa Defense Force members charged with caring for them...as well as deserters from the Imperial Army.



It was apparently hoped that, by lying low in the caves, they wouldn't be found by the American soldiers. That turned out to be very mistaken. Whenever the patrolling American soldiers found a cave entrance, they would shout in Japanese, "If anyone is in there, come out! You will not be harmed!" That posed a two-edged sword for the Okinawan women, children, and elderly hiding in there.



If they tried to surrender, the Imperial Army deserters hiding with them would shoot them, and the Americans would respond to the gunfire by immediately filling the cave with flaming napalm. If they didn't surrender, the Americans would flame-thrower them anyway...or pump the cavern full of tear gas which could still be very lethal. Many hundreds of unarmed civilians wound up dying that way.

As we enter the crevasse and approach the cave, I feel very cold. I do not want to be here. The students already know a bit of the story, and so I avoid their gazes and stay at the back of the group as we await our guide.



Our guide is someone who was actually there. He is a survivor. He was one of the Okinawa Defense Force members there to take care of the civilians hiding in the cave. Now old and frail-looking, he nonetheless speaks with resolve, and we can only listen. He leads us into the natural part of the cave, which served as an ancient tomb and thus includes a couple of very old graves, and brings us to a stop in front of the tunneled-out shelter area. There he begins the tale.

There were some 300 people in there when the Americans came, all packed into a tiny space. As they listened to the battle outside...and later the voices of the patrolling American troops..., they huddled in the darkness as their candles, food, and water ran out. The deserted Imperial Army troops with them demanded special privileges, snatched up the food and water, and treated the others like rats. Anyone caught speaking the Okinawan dialect was immediately branded a traitor and killed. Later, a young girl tried to go out in search of more candles, and she was shot dead by one of the Japanese soldiers. When the American troops inevitably came and spoke their demand to surrender, the Japanese soldiers told the Okinawans with them to keep silent or die. The Americans then flamethrowered each of the cave entrances and detonated large tear gas bombs inside the tunnel. Perhaps two-thirds of the people inside were killed.

The guide asks us to switch off our flashlights and observe a moment of silence there in the darkness. Then he leads us into the shelter tunnel, and as he does so, he defuses the tension by joking with the students, which surprises me. I guess this isn't all going to be doom and gloom after all.

After we finish our tour of the cave, we are taken up above to a nearby park, where we gather under a shelter overlooking the intensely blue ocean. Then the guide starts his speech.

"What were our leaders thinking?" he rails. "What business did they even have trying to pick a fight with a country that was clearly so much bigger, so much more powerful than us? And for what? What did it get us? They didn't care; they just kept their fat asses on their sofas drinking sake and ordering us to go and die for their stupidity! We shouldn't blame America for this. But we need to remember what's important. People are important. Life is important." He looks around at the kids. "You're the future! I'm asking you! Remember what's important!"

I have to admit that I'm surprised and more than a little moved. Despite the tragedy and the atrocity, there is none of the "America did it all" slather that I expected. No guilt trips in my direction at all. If anything, the guide shows far more anger and resentment toward the Imperial Army and the Imperial regime than the US forces. The black cloud over my soul dissipates, and I start to breathe a little easier.

But we're still just getting started...

The Cave of Life and Death, pt. II
As with all students in Okinawa at the time, the 222 high school girls of the Himeyuri Girls' Medical Corps were activated and pressed into service in support of the Okinawa Defense Force. They were assigned to an army surgical hospital located inside of a natural cave.


The memorial to the girls of the Himeyuri Girls' Medical Corps at the mouth of the cave.

The girls never had any doubt about what they were doing. They'd been steadily force-fed a diet of propaganda and patriotism throughout their school lives. They firmly believed that there was no greater honor than dying in the service of the Emperor and being enshrined at Yasukuni Shrine (the Shinto shrine honoring war dead). They firmly believed that the red cross flag over the cave would keep them safe. They also firmly believed that Japan would win the battle in a matter of days (so much so that many showed up for service with their school supplies).



As the battle raged on, they worked around the clock inside the cave assisting the doctors. Their surgical hospital was given the most serious cases, and every day they saw hundreds of soldiers brought in with horrific injuries, few of whom would ever recover. The girls' duties included bringing meager portions of food and water to the patients, trying to comfort them, helping dress wounds, carrying supplies, disposing of amputated limbs, and helping the most hopeless cases commit suicide.


Offerings of paper cranes, a symbol of peace, next to a memorial for those killed in the American bomb attack.

The first girl died when she was sent up for supplies and was strafed by an American fighter plane. About a dozen others were caught in the crossfire as they performed various duties. It turned out that they were the lucky ones.

As the battle entered its final, most desperate days, the Himeyuri girls were suddenly given the deactivation order. Together with their teachers, they were told they were on their own and abandoned. Confused, they remained huddled just inside the cave...and were hit by an American bomb dropped directly inside. Those that survived the attack went crazy. Some went running madly into the battle zone where they were quickly cut down in the crossfire. Others killed themselves either by jumping off the nearby sea cliff or pressing grenades to their chests. A number ran into the caves and remained in hiding, some long after the war ended, some falling prey to disease, madness, or American weapons. Some were found by American troops but refused the orders to come out, resulting in their meeting their fate via grenade or flame thrower. In the end, out of 222 Himeyuri girls, only about a couple dozen survived.

One of them is in the museum at the Himeyuri memorial, and our students talk to her.

The museum, as expected, is gloomy, and yet there is no obvious blame game. It just shows what was, and what happened. I think what moves me the most is the room entitled "Requiem for Himeyuri". It is surrounded by blow-ups of the original class photos of the Himeyuri girls captioned with their names, birthplaces, hobbies, school activities, and how they died. Our students are far more interested in the collection of diary entries written by the girls, and as they pore over them, I walk around and look at each of the photos and read each caption. I glance around at my own students and realize that it could just as easily have been them. The only real difference is the era.

Tragedies have far more impact when they have a human face.

We have lunch after that, traditional Okinawan fare, and I'm surprised I have any appetite.

A Memorial to Peace?
Our next stop is the huge Peace Memorial.



The peace monument is elegant but its impact seems rather muted...



The Peace Museum with its Peace Tower pulls most of the focus.



There is also the monument to those fallen in the Battle of Okinawa: a huge expanse of dark, granite slabs with the names of the dead carved into them, separated by location. Naturally, Okinawans account for the overwhelming majority.



Over in the comparatively tiny Ibaraki section, I find a name or two that might be members of my wife's extended family. I may have to look into it.



There are also a few names in the American part that might be related.



After the obligatory group photos, we get a chance to look out over the sea cliffs where so much death occurred...cliffs that were literally blasted into a completely different shape by American naval guns. It looks so peaceful and beautiful now...



Next we head up to the imposing museum, designed with traditional Okinawan roofs.

Inside, the museum is an impressive display not only of the Okinawa battle but of the history of Japanese warfare from the Meiji period onward. It also shows quite a bit of life in Okinawa when it was under US administration from 1945 till 1978.

Not surprisingly, it is quite crowded, mainly with students on school trips. It isn't nearly as bad as the aquarium was, but now I'm getting more than my fill of "Look! An American!" (followed by mimed shooting), punks speaking with mock American accents in my vicinity, or grade school kids recoiling from me with wide eyes. Fortunately, I'm not the only gaijin there, though one foreigner, a big guy speaking what sounds like Russian, is clearly railing on and on to his Japanese partner about how evil the Americans were (or are). It is the only real psychological warfare I've had to deal with so far on this trip, but instead of feeling depressed or guilty, now I'm just getting irritated. Still, I understand that it's par for the course and something that, as an American in Okinawa, I just have to deal with.

On the other hand, I also can't help noting with some cynicism that all the big peace monuments, including this one and the ones in Hiroshima and Nagasaki, are located in countries that lost wars. By comparison, peace monuments in the US seem rather small and half-hearted. I guess people are only really interested in peace if they suffer defeat. What does this say about us as a civilization?

Okinawa World
The last item on the day's itinerary is a visit to the theme park called Okinawa World. It has two main parts.



The first, Gyokusendo Cave, is a half-mile-long natural cavern with some pretty impressive subterranean scenery including some really huge stalactites and stalagmites. (Of course, I'd enjoy it more if I weren't sharing the narrow catwalk with kids who are apathetically plowing their way through in a hurry to get back out.) The next part is a village constructed in old Okinawan style (No pics that I can post available...sorry) including a fruit market/juice bar, glassworks and potters, a traditional tea house/restaurant, traditional dance performances, and lots of street vendors. In other words, it's specially designed to get me to empty my wallet in a hurry. Fortunately, I restrict myself to only a few items of glass and pottery, a couple of small traditional musical instruments, and some juice while spending plenty of time watching the glassworkers and potters do their thing. Then I have to sprint to get to the buses at departure time. The students have a good laugh about that...

The International Street of Commercialism



Naturally, our day in Naha is crowned by turning the students loose on Kokusai Dori (literally "International Street") to blow what's left of the money they've brought. I and some other teachers then follow on "patrol" (chuckle) so we can drop some yen, too. I have to hand it to the Okinawans, though; as crassly commercial as Kokusai Dori is, it's nowhere near as obnoxious as similar shopping streets in other parts of the country tend to be. It actually has a certain kind of class...though I can do without the street hawkers trying to get in my face. In the end, I come away with a couple of obligatory gift items, a couple of bottles of Okinawan sake to try, and no new musical instruments (not that the sanshin vendors make it any easier...).

The trip is almost at an end. Tomorrow we say goodbye.

The 2011 Okinawa Trip, Day Two

Japan is a long, narrow country with a vertical alignment. Compared with the Eastern US, the northernmost part of Japan, Hokkaido, is at the same latitude as New England, while Ibaraki Prefecture, where I live and work, is equivalent to North Carolina. Okinawa, which is the southernmost part, is at the same latitude as the southern tip of Florida. Needless to say, the climate, flora, fauna, and customs are very different.

The fact that the Ryukyu Kingdom was originally a separate nation with a unique culture, language, and even ethnicity only serves to heighten the difference.

* * *

Wet and Wild
The Boy Scout motto is "Be Prepared," but despite my Eagle title, I seem to be anything but. Today is the day that our students are dividing into two groups for some water fun. One team is doing "marine sports", i.e. snorkling or "banana boating" (i.e. rubber rafting). The other is going canoeing (in sea kayaks, actually) and hiking in a mangrove wetland. I'm assigned to the latter group, and I'm faced with multiple dilemmas. For one thing, I seem to have forgotten to bring any footwear other than my heeled dress shoes. For another, though I brought swimwear, it is the brightly-colored, Bermuda-style suit I got for the Australia trip three years ago...the one I wound up having to miss..., and everyone else is wearing ordinary athletic shorts. Unfortunately, since our wonderful hotel is located out in the middle of nowhere, there is absolutely no chance of my going to buy suitable gear. I'm stuck with what I've got, i.e. a potential disaster.

I manage to borrow a pair of beach sandals from the hotel just before our buses roll out, but they are way too snug. I have a feeling I'm going to regret this.

Our bus pulls off the main road and onto a smaller one that passes between a couple of lagoons. There we stop to rendezvous with our guides...who fortunately have a supply of loaner Crocs, so I'm able to get something that won't give me blisters (probably the first pair of Crocs I've ever had on my feet in my life). Then the guides lead the bus further down and onto an impossibly narrow road to a local community center, which is where we leave our luggage (including my camera, unfortunately, so no pics). (The original plan was for everyone to change there, so I squeamishly hoped to put on my gaudy swimwear, but the plans kept mutating randomly. Everyone else showed up this morning already in their athletic shorts, so they decided to go with that, i.e. no time to change. I just have to go with the [fortunately inexpensive] slacks I have on.) Then we walk over to the lagoon, where our kayaks and life jackets are ready. After a quick lesson in use of the double paddle and proper boarding techniques, we separate into kayak teams and hit the water. Together with a Japanese language/lit. teacher from my grade staff, I paddle off in a bright red and orange kayak and soon became the Pirate of the Karibian, or something like that. (Cue cliche but fun swashbuckling music in 12/8 time.)

I have an absolute blast. I also get very wet...especially in my posterior region (i.e. my arse).

After an hour or so of that, we bring in the kayaks and head back to the bus. My slacks are "easy care" types that dry really quickly, so the damp spots on my pantlegs quickly fade. My aft end, however, is another story; it still looks like I wet myself and will probably remain that way for a lonnnnng time. Luckily, I have a plastic raincoat to sit on in the bus so I don't sog the seat.



Soon the bus is heading off through the scarcely-inhabited North Okinawa countryside. There isn't a rice paddy in sight. (In fact, we're told that rice paddies are extremely rare in Okinawa...mainly because the US Occupation banned all local rice production in order to keep the Okinawans dependent...and help the Californian rice industry. Okinawa was reverted to Japanese administration in 1978, but local rice cultivation has yet to recover to its former levels.)



The overwhelming majority of the fields we see are for sugar cane or fruit trees.



Every once in a while you can find a pineapple patch, too.

Soon we get off the bus, separate into groups (mine being all girls), and hike along dirt farming roads toward the lagoon. We pass a small group of farmers along the way, and they're amused when we greet them with the native Okinawan, "Haisai!" (They also have a good chuckle at the sight of my soggy backside.)



It isn't long before we arrive at the mangrove bog. It really is like another world in there...a wet and slimy one, true, but fascinating.



At high tide this area is under a meter of water. Now, at low tide, the ground is a tangle of weirdly protruding tree roots that look like a troop of sprites or some kind of fantasy festival. The air inside is strangely cool and comfortable. The ground is soft and is criss-crossed with multiple currents of sea and spring water less than a centimeter deep.



Eventually we head out of the canopy of mangroves and into the vast tidal flat. There everything changes radically. For one thing, it's a whole lot hotter under the intense subtropical sun. For another, the ground becomes a pure expanse of boggy sand that is far better suited to bare feet than footwear (and is said to be good for the skin, so going barefoot offers fringe benefits).



First we skirt the edge of the mangroves, and the guide explains the various curiosities of the local ecosystem.



The kids also get a hands-on look at some of the local wildlife, such as this BLUE, pincerless crab.



The guide shows that, by stomping your feet up and down, you can sink into the bog. The girls immediately get in on the act, some of them going down to their knees...and then seeing how far back they can lean before popping loose. (Naturally, more than one girl winds up with a goopy butt.)



The last thing we check out before leaving is a little pond formed by a small creek. It and the surrounding bog are filled with mudskippers, small fish, shrimp, crabs, hermit crabs, and water beetles in abundance. It's all we can do to pry the girls away. As you can see in the picture, we have left the area pretty much a mess, but all trace of it is certain to be erased when the tide comes back in.

* * *

Glass Tanks Full of People

Thankfully, my butt is almost completely dried out by the time we get back to the bus. Then the kids change into their uniforms, we rendezvous with the other groups, and we board our regular buses for the trip to the next big attraction, Okinawa's famous Churaumi Aquarium.



Once again the sky turns ugly as we go.

We arrive at the aquarium parking lot to find it a solid mass of tour buses. It seems that half the high schools in the country have the same idea as us.

Unfortunately, as impressive as the aquarium is, and as much as I usually like aquariums, it is impossible for me to enjoy it. Inside is a solid mass of teenagers. Those that aren't just apathetically plowing their way through (making it hard to stop and look at anything) are being extremely obnoxious with their cameras and cell phones, either whipping them out in people's faces (for example mine) or suddenly blocking the lanes and monopolizing them for posed shots of their friends. There's also the fact that I'm the only foreigner in sight, and I get a fair amount of punks thinking they're being clever by talking with mock American accents in my vicinity. The main indoor attraction, the giant tank featured on their website, is jammed solid, and as I try to dig my way through the crowd to the other side, I also have to put up with self-centered pricks elbowing me aside from behind while yelling, "Sumimasen! Sumimasen!" ("Excuse me! Excuse me!") as if they are privileged or something. I have to admit I'm more than a little tempted to haul off and deck someone.

It isn't long before I get totally fed up with the whole thing and make a beeline for the first exit I see. At least the manatee and sea turtle enclosures outside aren't crowded. I also have time to get something to drink and chill for a bit before we go.


The aquarium complex is still under construction, so it's going to get even bigger.

As I head up to the buses, it starts to rain. Luckily, it stops well before evening, when we are able to have our planned beach barbecue without any trouble. I manage to eat wayyyyy too much...and not even give a damn.

I fully intend to enjoy myself tonight. Tomorrow is going to be the most difficult day of all.