Splish, Splash....

One thing that you have to know about Okinawa is that it's HOT.  Really hot.  And humid.  Very, very humid.  Some days you walk outside and instantly you're dripping with sweat and your hair has transformed into the 1970's afro dream come true.

How do you like my new look?

Ok, so I'm exaggerating a leeee-tle bit.  But seriously, it's very hot.  And I'm from Florida, so I'm used to the heat AND the humidity, but nothing has prepared me for the sauna in which I live day in and day out.  The kids and I have spent the last few weeks scoping out several pools and one beach in an effort to get out of the house and not pass out from heat exhaustion. 

I'll begin with our beach visit.  We wanted to play it safe so we ventured out to the beach on an Army Base here called Torii Station.  I'm about to commit Okinawa heresy for saying this, but I was not too impressed with the one beach we visited.  I'll start off with the positives...the water was the clearest water I've ever seen and it was a gorgeous beach.  And we found some beautiful shells and pieces of coral.  Emma even found this little guy, who Mary lovingly named Hermie and who was mysteriously "lost" right before we had to go home : 

For all its beauty, this was not a sandy beach.  The beach itself is made primarily of crushed-up coral, so while most of it feels like sand, every now and then you'd step on a piece that wasn't quite crushed up enough and...ouch!  And as you wade into the water you have to be especially vigilant that you don't step on a sharp piece of coral.  Makes it a little hard to frollic carelessly in the ocean.   Not to be outsmarted by coral, I vowed to find some cute little water shoes that would protect our feet from coral abuse.  I had visions of walking around the beach in these cuties: 

Unfortunately, it was not meant to be.  Before hitting the "Buy" button, I spoke with a new friend who's been on the island for a while.  She advised me that those cute shoes would get torn up in the coral.  Not only that...apparently there's this lovely creature here called a stone fish, which, well....looks like a stone.  It camoflauges itself very well on the rocks and it's the deadliest fish in the world!  (At which point I thought, "What kind of a death trap has Bill brought us to?  I'm never getting in the water again!)   The cute LL Bean shoes are no match for the stone fish as its deadly spikes would poke right through the bottom of the shoe and it'd be Game Over for the unsuspecting beach goer.  However, there's a way outsmart even the deadly stone fish, but it requires wearing these lovely pieces of footwear that have a thick piece of felt (or some non-penatrative material) on the bottom. 

So, coral and the dangerous stone fish (and the required footwear) were the first two strikes against this beach.  But, as we sat (on a well folded towel) on the sand coral, I realized something was missing.  It was way too quiet.   Then I realized there were no waves at this beach.   No Waves?  What kind of a beach is this?  In my book, it's not a beach unless you're being lulled into peacefulness by the unending rhythm of the waves.  This is just not going to do.  I know there are beaches with waves on this island because surfing is a big thing around here.  So even if I have to strap on my ugly shoes, I will find that beach! 


In addition to the bad beach, we've also visited several pools on the island.  Each military base has one or many pools, each with varying amenities.  We had been told that some of the pools even had HIGH DIVES!  Some of you reading this are too young to remember, but back in day before overzealous lawyers and paranoid pool owners, it was not too uncommon to go to the deep end of a pool and find a board that people used to jump into the water, also known as The Diving Board.   Most of the boards were about 1 meter high (aka the LOW dive) but if you were lucky your pool would have a board about 3 meters high or even higher! (aka the HIGH dive.)  Going off the high dive was a rite of passage for my generation.  Nowadays many pools think they're cool with their fancy, schmancy waterslides, but the slide is no match for the thrill of flying through the air off a high dive.  At any rate, this is Okinawa -- Land of Dangerous Children's Equipment -- so High Dives were par for the course.  When we finally found a pool with a high dive, the kids could not be kept away.  The only requirements for using the diving boards was that the diver had to have passed a swim test, and his or her mother had to have nerves of steel.  Our three older kids had already passed the swim test, so they immediately made a beeline for the high dive.  For your viewing pleasure, here's a brief glimpse of their high dive show.  You'll see one kid who may have a future in diving.  The others... not so much. 

Bill had been off playing with his jungle friends for most of these last two weeks,  but he was finally able to join us yesterday.  Even he couldn't resist the temptation of the diving board and did attempt to relive his glory days of high school diving.  Afterward,  (as he hobbled back to the shallow end of the pool) he described it as a "young man's game" that should only be pursued by those whose shoulders and knees can take the abuse. 

Luckily, the pool will remain open on the weekends until October, so we're looking forward to several more high dive shows.  In the meantime we're frantically preparing ourselves for the next big adventure:  SCHOOL! 

Back to School

Our family is about to undergo a radical change.  (yes, another one…and no, I’m not pregnant.)  Next Monday -- one week from today -- Michael , Emma, and Andrew will go back to school.  Back to actual, brick and mortar, show-up-before-the-bell-rings-and-don’t-forget-your-permission-slip school.   Mary will start preschool the following week.  Here’s an idea for all you seasoned, salty moms out there trying to reignite the exhilaration of early motherhood.  Take your kids out of school, homeschool them for three years, then register them for the neighborhood school.  You’ll feel all the nerves, anxiety, excitement, stress, and guilt that accompanied new motherhood.  Doesn’t that sound fun?  Throw in a move to a foreign country and you have an indigestion commercial in the making.   

So if this is causing so much turmoil (for me) why have we decided to send the kids back to school?  It all started one day last April Bill and I were talking about  where we'd like to be living when Michael starts high school.  Bill said, “Well, 9^th grade shouldn’t be his first exposure to school, after 6 years, so he should go back to school in 8^th grade.”  I responded, “8^th grade!  That’s the end of middle school!  If he’s going back to school, he’s going back in 6^th grade—the beginning of middle school so he’s new like everyone else.”  And with that 15 second exchange, we opened the door to sending the kids back to school.  As the conversation continued, we discussed all the reasons we’d pulled the kids out of school in the first place—keeping them out of  bad less-than-stellar schools in South Carolina, avoiding another mid-year school transfer, being able to travel back to nearby Jacksonville frequently, and knowing that I could probably do better than the local schools.  In South Carolina, all those reasons made sense.  In Okinawa, not so much.  The Department of Defense schools here are among the best in the military.  We’ll be starting the school year at the beginning, and going to Jacksonville (or anywhere, for that matter) isn’t very easy unless I'm prepared to hijack a boat or an airplane.  And finally, the schools here provide so many unique opportunities that I could never duplicate at home.  There are Japanese culture classes, a structural design class (right up Michael’s Lego-building alley) and several clubs and after-school activities that the kids are hoping to enjoy.  Plus, the schools are right down the street.  For Michael, it’s probably a 5-10 minute bike ride, but for Emma and Andrew it’s just two blocks away. 

Do I sound like I'm still trying to convince myself that it's the right idea?  Well, I am (sort of.)  I know they're going to make lots of friends and learn tons of things that I would never think of teaching them (some good, some bad.) But, well….I’m going to miss them! When I brought this up to my wise husband, he said, “Well, Laura….we didn’t bring them home for you.” Good point.  There were some days while we were homeschooling that I would have paid the schoolbus driver to take the kids to whatever school he was going to and LEAVE THEM THERE. But, most days were just run of the mill, wake up around 7:30 or 8am, have a leisurely breakfast, then start schoolwork around 8:30 or 9. And, if we’d worked really hard and had few interruptions, we’d be done by noon. Other moms would tell me “Oh, I could never teach my own kids…we’d butt heads too much.” But in all honesty, school time was usually the most peaceful time of the day. Oh sure, they’d complain if they thought I’d given them too much work.  And, that first year my “over-achieving” Michael loved to say, “Mom, this just isn’t fair. At regular school there are 25 other kids who can answer the teacher’s questions. Here, I have to answer EVERYTHING.” You can’t put anything past this kid.  However, it was all worth it when I'd see the kids learn new things or succeed in an area they'd struggled with.  We also had lots of interesting conversations and I'd get a little peak at how their minds worked in a way I wouldn't get to see if they were at school.  It was great to be there when the kids figured out a really hard math problem, or when they were finally able to sound out a tough word. Plus, there were lots of giggles, high fives, and "Hey, you got it! Great job!" Who'd want to miss all that?   

The kids are ambivalent about going to a real school.  Michael is all for it, but I'm a little worried he thinks middle school will be just like in the movies and on TV.  This is my "grass is always greener" kid and I'm afraid he's going to be quite disappointed.  Emma is visibly nervous, but of all the kids she's the one who has the least to worry about.  Whenever she's in a classroom setting she always excels, and I'm sure she'll do just fine this time.  I'm actually most concerned about Andrew.  Except for 2-year-old preschool, he's never, ever been to school.  He's already convinced that this whole school thing is a big scam.  As soon as he found out his new schedule, he started complaining.  He'd say, "Mom, at home we can do all our school work in two hours.  Why do I have to be at school for SIX hours?"  I'm probably going to have to tell his teacher to keep a close eye on him at recess because he's already told me he's going to try to escape and come home when his class is outside playing.  There's definitely a trip to the Principal's office in my future. 

In all seriousness, Bill and I understand that we're embarking on this "back to school" adventure on a trial basis.  We're going to give it some time to see how things go--a month at least...but probably a quarter.  If things just don't work out I'm fully prepared to bring one or all of them back home.  There is also a middle option--the kids could do their academic subjects at home, but continue doing their "specials" (like art, music, etc...) at school.  This would create some logistical challenges working with three different grade schedules, but that option is available if we need it. 

Luckily I'll still have Mary at home most of the time.  I'd forgotten all about preschool mothers and the lengths I'd they'd go through to get their kids into the right preschool.  Back in the days of early motherhood, I remember lugging all the kids at the crack of dawn to THE preschool in Havelock and waiting in line to make sure whichever kid got a spot at the highly sought after school.  I guess the years of motherhood have mellowed me out, but preschool just wasn't very high on my "things to do" list when we got to Okinawa.  When I finally did start looking for an American preschool, all the cheap good ones were full and the tuition at the available schools rivaled our mortgage payment.  This is preschool, not Harvard.  Finally, I found one that had good reviews and it was in the right price range, but they only had openings in the afternoon Tuesday-Thursday class.  At first I was disappointed that she'd get so little time at school, but then I realized this might be a good thing.  While we homeschooled, I always felt guilty that Mary didn't get that one-on-one time while the others were at school.  That might explain a lot.  Now I'll have lots of time to do stuff just with her, at her level.  She won't always have to be dragged away from the kiddie section of the park because the older kids want to go to the big slide.  She won't always have to watch older kid shows because the big kids don't want to watch "baby shows."  Like I said, I think this will be a good thing. 

And now, I've had to start thinking of all the things I'll be able to do with my new found free time.  One thing about homeschooling...it's a lot like having an unpaid, full time job. (I tried to look at the money we were saving on Catholic school tuition as my salary, but that only helped so much.)  I didn't get to do lots of things because I was home with the kids (or they weren't kid-friendly events.)  I did manage to volunteer on base a few times a month, and I'll start doing that again once the kids and I are settled into our new school schedule.  But, to be honest, I'm selfishly looking forward to exploring Okinawa without having to listen to, "Ugh...how much longer to we have to be here?"  or "Where is this place?  Do I have to go?"  or (my personal favorite) "I don't wanna go see any stupid Japanese (insert attraction here.)"  Believe it or not, the kids haven't fully embraced the unique cultural opportunity they've been given.  My "Trying-To-Convince-Them-How-Cool-This-Is" Tank is empty.  I have no problem passing this torch on to their teachers.  Hopefully they'll have better luck than I've had!

So, after next Monday if you try to call and you can't reach me, you'll know that I'm off exploring some ancient Japanese castles, lounging around the clear blue beaches, or pampering my little piggies with a unique, work-of-art Okinawan pedicure.  It's going to hard, but I'm sure going to miss those kids!  Have a great school year! 

These are NOT my toesies....yet!

     

Slip-Sliding Away....

The other day the temperature dropped to 87 degrees and the humidity fell below 90%, so we decided to take advantage of the chilly weather and explore a nearby park.  The main attraction of this park was its giant dip and roller slides, and it did not fail to impress the kids and me.  I must say, these Okinawans know how to build a park.  "Safety, schmafty" seems to be their motto for playground construction.  

The park area is huge, and the "attractions" are not bunched together in one section of the park.  The entrance we used was nearest to the toddler area, so at first the kids were like, "Gee, thanks, Mom...you really you really know how to pick 'em...."  But then, as we walked a little further, we found this...

The way it works is, you hold onto that bar at the top, dangle there while you build up some courage, then let go and slide down.  The picture really doesn't do it justice, but that first drop goes straight down for about 8-10 feet.  Even the kids questioned my sanity when I encouraged them to go down the slide.

There was another group of children there and an adult who I can only assume was their father.  One of the boys (who we discovered, after muddling through the language barrier, was 11 years old) was terrified of going down the slide.  This is when I realized that kids are pretty much the same everywhere.  At first his siblings were encouraging him to go down the slide, then they resorted to teasing him because Emma and Mary (two girls) we going down the slide and he was too chicken.  (This time, the language wasn't an issue.)   While the children are basically the same, parenting techniques seem to be a little different.  I guess the dad finally got tired of his son's wimpiness and he decided to help this kid conquer his fear.  So, what did he do?  He went up to the top of the slide, dangled the screaming, terrified child off the edge of it, and then LET GO!  I wanted to get a picture of it, but I thought that might be considered rude.  I did get this shot of Emma about to go down the slide, and in the back you can see the dad grabbing his son's hands right before he forced him off the edge of the slide.  It was certainly an entertaining (while slightly disturbing) sight. 

The dip slide was fun, but I had promised the kids there was a huge roller slide and I, for one, really wanted to find it.  Again, it was a large park, and as we were walking away from the dip slide toward the legendary roller slide all Michael kept whining saying was, "Mom, I don't think that slide is at this park.  I really want to stay at the dip slide. The rest of this park is lame.  It's probably a dumb slide anyw....OH MY GOSH!"  That's when we came upon this...

(Quick side note:  You know at the airport before and after your carry on luggage goes through the x-ray machine, it slides on those roller things?  That's what this entire slide is made out of.)  Someone had told me that the trick to really get going fast was to sit on a piece of card board while you're going down the slide.  Naturally, this cool mom was prepared, and it helped that we've just moved in so we had some extra cardboard lying around the house (and I remembered to put it in the van.)  The first challenge of the slide was getting to the top of it, with cardboard in hand.  Here's Andrew climbing to the top: 

They all loved the slide.  Here's a quick video of Mary getting to the bottom.  You'll also feel the sisterly love as Emma tried to block her dismount with her cardboard. 
    

Finally, I couldn't resist.  It just looked like so much fun.  So, I ignored my phobia of falling from high places, and I took the plunge.  I shot a video of the maiden voyage so you, too, could experience the thrill of riding down this giant roller slide.  Try to ignore the slightly unshaven legs in the foreground.  If you prefer to not hear a grown woman scream like a twelve-year-old girl, you might want to skip the video, or at least click on the mute button. 

We had a great time at this park, but by the end of it we were exhausted from all the sliding and dropping and climbing.  Luckily this park is very close to our house, so I'm sure we'll make frequent visits to get our roller slide fix.  Or, at least to watch parents terrorize their young children! 

 

It's a bird.....it's a plane....it's a.....worm?

I’m happy to report that we have endured and survived our first Okinawan typhoon.   Typhoons are a common occurrence on this island.  This past May it was predicted that 31 tropical cyclones, 27 tropical storms, and 17 typhoons would form in the North West Pacific this year.   A typhoon and a hurricane are very similar--they're both tropical cyclones, except a typhoon occurs in the Northwest Pacific and a hurricane occurs in the Atlantic off the coasts of Florida, North Carolina, and South Carolina….all places we’ve lived.  Hmmmm….do I have a bulls eye on my back?    Luckily, typhoons are not usually as strong as Atlantic hurricanes.  There are basically two categories of typhoons--regular typhoons (Hurricane Category 1-3) and Super Typhoons (Hurricane Category 4-5.)   Okinawa is very prepared to handle these storms, so as the typhoon approached we felt cautiously optimistic that we would come through relatively unscathed. 

The military around here has also set up a very specific plan for what to do in preparation for a storm.  A while back, the higher-ups set up a warning system for service members and dependants living on Okinawa.  Throughout the bases you’ll see signs stating the “TCCOR” level.  Remember how I told you that these military folks love acronyms?  Well, here’s another one for you.   TCCOR stands for “Tropical Cyclone Condition Of Readiness” but everyone around here pronounces it “Tee-Cor”  Each level instructs us to do certain things.  Here’s the list of what each level means and what we’re supposed to do:

We reached TCCOR-1E on Thursday evening last week.  That meant we were “ordered” to stay indoors until we were given the all clear.  They take these TCCOR levels very seriously.  Let’s say I decided to go get some donuts while 90mph winds were howling outside.  I could find myself on the next plane back to the U.S. for violating the TCCOR order.   Luckily, we’ve prepared for hurricanes before and we knew what kinds of things we I had to do.  Monday I went to the commissary and stocked up on bottled water, bread, milk and batteries.  (You heard that right, PI people…I went to the commissary on a Monday!)   By Wednesday, we’d used up all the bread and milk so I was back to the Commissary fighting all those other procrastinators for the last of the bread and milk.   I also spent Wednesday afternoon wrestling the patio furniture and other outside things back into the house so they wouldn’t fly away into our new neighbors’ windows.   If our little cottage wasn’t crowded enough before, it was certainly filled to the gills now.  We finally reached TCCOR-1C on Thursday afternoon.  At this point, all non-essential personnel were to return home and stay there until the typhoon passed.   Naturally, Bill had “a few more things to finish up” so he didn’t actually get home for a few hours.  I was getting a little worried that he was going to get trapped in the storm and end up hugging a tree (like those old Gilligan’s Island episodes.)  Luckily, he finally made it home and we hunkered down for the duration of the storm. 

The Weather Gurus had originally predicted that Typhoon Muifa would be in the Category 2-3 range (a regular typhoon) and the worst of it would occur late Friday morning, and by Friday afternoon the rain and strong winds should have calmed considerably.  Well, Muifa had other plans.  She (He? I don't know...) decided to slow down and dump a near record-breaking 41 INCHES of rain on Okinawa.  When I woke up Saturday morning the patio was flooding and the water was getting dangerously close to coming in through the sliding glass doors.  So, in pre-coffee mode, I ran around the living room moving all the low-lying books and electronics to higher ground.  Shortly after that, we found this (not-so) little refugee. 

That's right...it's a worm.  A WORM!  You know things are bad when these guys are escaping the storm.  Not wanting to start a precedent (and to my childrens' horror), I used a pencil to gently fling him back out onto the patio. You let one worm in, they're all going to start wiggling in the door.  

Here's a little video I took during the worst of it, because, of course....I want to bridge the miles between us and this way you get to vicariously live life on Okinawa.  See how much I care about you?  Next thing you know I'll be tethered to a tree like one of those Weather Channel guys: 

It got a little rough for a while there, but nothing was damaged.  We did have a little water in the laundry room.  My dad will appreciate this picture:



Yes, that the bottom of our grill in our laundry
room.  I told you things were crowded!



As you can imagine, there’s not much to do when you’re trapped indoors with 4 kids for 2 days.  We did a lot of this:

And this...

And this....

We were saving most of our low-tech activities for when the power went out (because the power would certainly go out!) but to our surprise the electricity stayed on the entire time.  We consider ourselves very lucky in this regard because we know many other neighborhoods lost power for several hours. 

You know what else we did?   We ate.  A LOT.  I don’t know if it was the boredom or what, but we could not stop snacking.  We ate through a whole batch of home made chocolate chip cookies, several bags of chips, a package of fig newtons, and some other junk food.  Of course all that snacking made us thirsty and by Saturday morning we were running low on milk, which led to this sign being posted on the refrigerator:



Finally, finally by Saturday afternoon, the winds started to calm down as Typhoon Muifa decided to bother our neighbors in China.   Damage throughout the area was quite minimal.  A few trees down here and there; a few shingles off the roof of the Exchange...but by Sunday the whole place was back to business as usual.  I was very impressed. 

Which begs the question...Why in the hell don't American builders consult Japanese builders when it comes to making hurricane-proof structures?  Not once was I worried that the house was going to blow apart during our typhoon.  These homes have been here for 40-50 years.  You'd think at some point during that time there would have been some sort of Building Summit between our two nations where the Japanese guys could have whispered to the Americans, "Pssst...Hey....the way to keep houses from flying away during storms is....._________.  Maybe they still have hard feelings towards us?  Who knows.  What also gets me is that every now and then on the news back home you'll see a story where someone has invented some new way to protect homes during hurricanes, and it's like they just invented the wheel.  Apparently the people around these parts have held the secret for a long time!

That's pretty much the end of the story.  In this situation, I'm glad that it was rather uneventful.  And, from what I hear, this story will repeat itself many times while we're living on this island.  Hopefully, next time I'll be a little better prepared for the wind, rain, and worms! 

5 weeks

(I originally wrote this last week, but then I put it in the "Drafts" folders and planned on revising and posting it quickly.  Typhoon Muifa had other plans for me, so here it is...finally!) 


I just realized today that we've been on Okinawa for over 5 weeks.  5 weeks.    For me, there's always a point in every move when it hits me that I REALLY HAVE TO LIVE HERE.  During the move preparation phase, there are about 4,263 things to think about, plan, stress over, or ignore completely.  There's a kind of excitement to all that planning....like you're planning for a vacation.  Even when you're saying good bye to old friends, it's sad--but you still have so much on your plate at that moment that you push that sadness away and put it into a little box.  Then the truck is loaded up, you drive (or fly) to the new duty station, are overwhelmed by everything you have to do on the back end of the move, adjust to a new house, new town, unpack all the boxes, and find new homes for all those the treasured items.  You start getting the kids into new activities, the Marine starts working and figuring out his new job, and finally, finally once you start to get comfortable and you finally have time to BREATHE, that little box opens up and it hits you...I REALLY HAVE TO LIVE HERE.   This is not a vacation.  I'm not ever going back to where I came from, and even if we do go back there after this it won't matter because none of the people who I know and love will be there anymore.  When that realization finally hits, it totally sucks. We have lived at 6 different duty stations so you'd think I'd be used to it by now.  The last few moves I've gotten cocky and thought around week 4, "Hey, I'm handling this move pretty well...none of that melancholy, I-miss-the-old-place nonsense!"  But then Week Five comes and BAM--it hits me like a brick.

Relax, people, I'm certainly not lying in bed all day listening to Enya and feeling sorry for myself.  For starters, I think our old Enya CD's are in storage....but even if we did have them, there is still lots going on around here and if I decided to check out for a little while the kids would probably burn the house down.  Mostly there are brief moments of bitchiness grumpiness.  For example, yesterday I blew up at my poor husband because we hadn't put up any pictures yet and he couldn't find the masonry drill bit.  I think my exact words were, "YOU'RE AT WORK ALL DAY WHILE I SIT IN THIS PLACE THAT LOOKS LIKE A PRISON!"  Good times.



Welcome To Our New Home


Don't get me wrong...I really feel lucky that we get to live in as many places that we do.  To a normal person, that sounds crazy....I know.   Not to brag, but we've really gotten to see a lot of cool stuff.  If I had married a regular civilian, I would have never discovered that amazing little restaurant in North Carolina where I had the best steak ever.  I would have never learned how to shovel snow.  I probably would have never seen the Cherry Blossom Festival in Washington, DC.  I would never had to chance to "just run down" to IKEA.  I would have never been on I-95 in Northern Virginia the morning of 9-11 when thousands of other scared people were frantically trying to get home to safety.  (Come to think of it, I would have never been stuck in countless other hours-long traffic jams in Northern Virginia!)  I would have never had to drive 18 hours up the East Coast and seen the beauty in that part of the country.  I would have never seen a real apple orchard or a real pumpkin patch.  I would have never learned all the amazing facts about life in the salt marsh of South Carolina.  And, last but certainly not least, I would have never, ever had the chance to see a Pig Racing Competition.  Yessiree Bob....we have seen some pretty cool things. 

Luckily, things always improve and I know eventually I'll find my niche, but it's going to take a little bit of effort. I think there's still a myth out there that whenever we move there's a Welcome Wagon that's going to roll up in front of the house and a new batch of best friends is going to spill out.  Well, not quite.  Military wives are just like everyone else and there are some friendly ones and some quiet ones and some gossipy ones.  Negotiating the mine field of new friendships can be a challenge.  It's a lot like dating...remember how much fun that was?  For someone like me, it takes a little while to open up and start trusting a new group, but with each move I'm getting better at it.  And I've learned to open up to all kinds of people, not just people like me.  One of the dirty little secrets of military life is that there are all kinds of divisions that can make friendships hard to form.  You'll hear people say, "Oh, I can't be friends with her...she's So-And-So's wife." (You Marine wives know what I mean....)  A few years ago I realized that I'm not the kind of person who can make friends at the drop of a hat, so unless I wanted to embrace the hermit lifestyle, the last thing I should do it limit myself to people just like me.  This duty station is forcing me to make my circle even larger and I may even get to be friends with....(wait for it) Air Force Wives!  (gasp!) 

So, I'm not trying to make you all feel sorry for me.  This phase always passes, and usually it's rather quickly.  When I started this blog, I told myself that this wasn't going to be a sugary, life-is-always-perfect-no-matter-what-happens kind of blog.   I think it's important to be honest so that no one forgets that all these military families who have to do this all the time are real people.  And for all those Marine wives reading this, it's ok to say it sucks sometimes, and we don't always have to act like we're always happy to "Stand By Our Man."  (You know you do that!)  I guess I need to get back to what I should be doing at the moment--preparing for our upcoming typhoon.  I'll fill you in on all that in my next post.

Up, Up, and Away

Last week the kids' wishes were granted and they finally took a ride on the unmistakable Okinawa landmark....The Big Ferris Wheel.  Yours truly is a big fat scaredy cat has a paralyzing fear of heights, so Bill took the three older kids on the Ferris wheel while Mary and I went shopping for flip flops.  Since I did not experience the ride for myself, I've asked a guest blogger (Bill) to bring you all up to speed on this exciting event. 

One of the first things you notice when you arrive in Okinawa and are driving up and down Hwy 58 is the giant Ferris wheel somewhere between Camp Foster and Camp Lester.  With each trip we made up and down that highway, inevitably from the back seat you would hear, "Mom, Dad, when are we going to go on that big Ferris wheel?"  Usually the answer was the standard, "Well, maybe we can do it this weekend."  That would usually buy us a couple of days of peace without having to hear about this humongous death trap that from a distance never seemed to move even an inch.  The death trap piece didn't bother me so much, I'm good with that.....I've always like that kind of thing, high tree branches, great amusement park rides where you're sure you're about to fall out, climbing and jumping off high roofs, and so on.  No, my concern was mounting this thing with several of our kids and getting 1/3 of the way through the ride only to hear, "Dad, I'm scared, can we get off now?"  Of course the answer would be, NO.  But then for the next 15 minutes I'd have to deal with the frightened screams, the frantic crying, those teary eyes looking at you convinced that you were lying all those times you said you could save them from anything, or that they didn't have to worry about anything as long as Daddy was around.  I mean its easy to tell them at bed time that they don't have to worry about monsters because they're afraid of Marines, or that burglars stay away from our house because they're afraid of Marines.  But then what can you say when you're suspended 100+ feet in the air and the cries, tears, and wails are free flowing?  "Hey, don't worry kids, I've read a lot of engineering books and this giant, rusty, rickety, wheel with 56 buckets hanging from it looks as sound as a pound." The answer from Michael would go something like, "That's not true Dad.  You were an English major and you're terrible at math, and you wouldn't know an engineering book, good, bad, sound or otherwise if it slapped you in the head."  So, the best answer was usually just to avoid the behemoth.  You know, when they ask you pretend you didn't understand what they said or that you didn't hear them, "What Emma? I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you with the dishwasher running." or  "What Michael? It's difficult to understand you while I'm bathing your sister. Andrew, I can't understand your words when you mumble!"

Well, after having been in Okinawa for over a month, we finally decided last weekend to wander over to American Village and visit the famous Ferris wheel.  While Laura and Mary went into the neighboring "mall", I took the 3 older kids and wandered through the building under the ride.  It wasn't too hard to understand, you follow the pictures of the wheel and the arrows pointing you up the stairs, across the carpet, and finally out the door.  On they way though you had to buy a ticket which is much like purchasing a ticket for the metro in Washington, DC.  This particular machine had pictures on it indicating which were the children's tickets and which were the adult tickets, and how much each was.  I was more apprehensive about putting the money in the machine and worrying about whether or not I had interpreted the pictures correctly (and risking losing my (or actually Laura's until 10 minutes before) 5,000 Yen). But it worked, I got the tickets and the correct amount of change, and I got to feel like a seasoned regular knowing I had conquered the machine.  So, out onto the deathtrap......I mean ride.

The first thing I noticed once we entered our "bucket" was that there were no seat belts.  But then again, the bucket was completely enclosed either with metal or plexiglass and chicken wire.  Okay, not too bad, except that being completely enclosed on a 90 degree day with 95% humidity makes it feel like you're sitting in a green house.  I won't say that the ride finally started because it actually never stops......its just spins very slowly....forever, like the world's first perpetual motion machine.   So, up up and away......but again, very slowly.  I was sure the kids would be nervous and then advance to scared, only to end on absolutely petrified as they sobbed all over my collar until we were able to dismount.  But, you can see from the picture below that they couldn't have been happier.

They were so relaxed that one (who shall remain nameless......ANDREW) even brought up the idea of spitting out of it.  (Don't worry, I stopped him.)  But we certainly got the birds eye view of Okinawa.  It was like being "in the map," being able to point out to the kids where we stayed when we first arrived, where we live now, where I work now, all several if not a dozen miles apart. 

So after about 15 minutes (yes it took that long), we finally made it back around to the bottom of the ride and were able to exit the green house after having a leisurely steam.  The kids really got a kick out of it, but I think they were just as glad to get inside the building where the immediately found an arcade complete with air hockey table.  After dropping hundreds of Yen into the games and machines, we met up with Laura and Mary and headed off to lunch at A&W (yes, they have that here too....I'll let Laura cover that pleasant experience).  All in all a fun afternoon that I was sure was going to be one of those experiences where all you keep thinking is, "I knew it, I knew it.  I knew they'd be scared, I knew they'd be miserable, and I knew they'd hate me for making them suck it up until the ride ended. "  (Well Good, they asked for it!)  Just kidding, I wouldn't think that (wink wink)).