Japan (日本)

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Restaurant Names – A Bit Overrated

After a tiring trip to the Immigration Office, my husband and I went to Kokusai-dori, or International Street, to find some gifts to bring to my host parents on mainland Japan. I had a craving for ice cream, or soft cream as they call it in Japan. We ended up going into a restaurant above an Okinawa omiyagi store of sweets. Of course, there was no restaurant name easily visible. It’s rather common to have to search for the name of the restaurant. I don’t know half the names of the many places I’ve eaten at. I wish I did, but at the same time, my mind is clicked into the location and landmarks of the restaurant, not its name, because there are no street names to go off of. The color of the place’s sign is more important than the name sometimes.
But I’m starting to notice how names aren’t pushed into your face all of the time here. It’s a relief not seeing its name plastered to a wall at eye level as you’re shoveling food into your mouth.
I really enjoyed this chocolate ice cream sundae with cookies, Pocky, fruit, whipped cream, cornflakes, and nuts!

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Spring has come in Okinawa

Okinawa has come into the spring season. I have heard, “Spring has come,” but it has a different meaning in Japan than just blossoming flowers and warmer weather.
One of my friends from school told me that when a girl or boy got into a relationship, people would say this phrase. It’s the equivalent of “S/He is taken.”

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Indian Food in Okinawa

I absolutely love Indian food. There’s this misconception with Indian food: it’s spicy. But in learning about Japanese tastebuds, “spicy” Indian food wouldn’t make it in Japan.
Still, at an Indian restaurant my husband and I went to on Kokusai-dori in Naha City called Nanak, there were options for spicy food but it didn’t readily come with it. The strong flavor in Indian food-tasting the fullness of curry and other seasonings- was deep in the dish. Just a small amount of chicken and eggplant curry, and potato nan with chicken and seasoned meats, was enough to fulfill our appetites. The nan was so delicious, I preferred it to the plain white rice with the curry. Thankfully, the food we ate wasn’t too heavy, since we had a lot of walking to do, but it was just enough. The price was a bit steep-almost 3000 for both of us-however, it was worth it.
I don’t know the name of this restaurant. Like many whole-in-the-wall businesses in Japan, this yellow-signed, basement level restaurant’s name was the last thing on my mind. Only its good food that was made by Nepal cooks still exists in my mind.

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Getting a Physical Exam in Okinawa

My husband got a job in economy-stricken Okinawa, and ironically, getting the job was the easiest. It took him literally 24 hours from hearing about the job to getting the application to going to the interview to getting the job. Along with the acceptance, they asked for a kenko shindan (けんこしんだん) or a physical exam before processing him for an education visa.
The recommendation that my coworker gave me was the Adventist Medical Center because they have an English speaking staff. But we got SUPER lost-maybe for 2 hours-before we found the place. It’s in instances like this where I wish Japan had street names and Google might actually work.
To find places, you normally have to find landmarks and big intersections. The worst part is when you get lost. The streets don’t circle back so you further get lost. Plus, getting directions over the phone is a bit difficult unless they know the area well. All in all, you can’t blame anyone if you get lost. Why? Because they don’t have street names.

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School Orchids

During my free time at school, I try to make drawings using pastels so I can keep my drawing mind from deteriorating. This is a drawing from an orchid. It took me about 30 minutes to draw.

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The Three Amigos at a Nomikai

My husband and I were invited to a nomikai, or drinking party, for my office, and my coordinator showed us how to make penguins out of our wet napkins. My husband exclaimed, “Ah, the three amigos!” before we explained to my confused coordinator what it meant.
It was a fun party. Unlike American office parties, Japanese office parties normally has tons of alcohol and not the weak kind either. There’s premium beer, sake, and owamori, a strong Okinawan alcohol that holds a candle to vodka or tequila. Most Japanese people can nurse these liquors without doing any gross or sightly damage. My husband, being a newcomer to all things Japanese, was impressed with their drinking and eating ability.
What impressed the both of us was when my coordinator told us more about the Okinawan people. “We focus more on relationships here. You can’t buy friendship.” That’s something I’ll always remember. Well, that and the three amigos.

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Yakiniku – Just like the Anime!

My husband and I went to yakiniku, loosely translated as “baked meat”, and cooked meat over a hot yet calm grill in the center of the table.
Of course, the first time I went to a yakiniku restaurant, I instantly realized that many of the Naruto characters did the same thing.

Naruto and his friends eating yakiniku

The waiters delivered platters of seasoned slices of meat and we cooked it on the grill. My husband is now addicted to yakiniku!

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Warning, Foreigners! There’s a Tsunami!

Footage from Japanese TV at 4:42 PM, March 11th.

I didn’t realize an earthquake had ripped through the northeastern side of Japan until I watched ten minutes of Japanese news. I had just come out of the toilet and immediately noticed all of the education office staff clustered around the tiny television.

I watched in horror as cars were swept over bays and under bridges in Miyagi like they were bottles of plastic. We watched, my Japanese co-workers commenting their disbelief and shock in their native tongue. The image of Japan that showed the dangerous parts of the country were color-coded. Okinawa, a small pack of islands at the very south end of Japan, suddenly changed color, and within five minutes, everyone abandoned the blaring television.

I asked my coordinator what was wrong and why the water in the footage was reaping such destruction. “There was an earthquake on mainland Japan,” he told me calmly. “Now, there is a tsunami.”

I followed him and everyone else back to the staff room. I didn’t know there was an earthquake, and none of us would’ve known if it weren’t for the news. Being at the southern tip of Japan put us the farthest away from the epicenter, and we didn’t feel anything, not even aftershocks of the earthquake. Soon, everyone had made a list of the surrounding districts and the outer island schools. Though Okinawa is one big island, there are multitudes of outer islands, or islands that are separated from the main part of Okinawa. If Lost were a deserted island, Okinawa had many Lost-like brothers and sisters except they were inhabited by the local Okinawan people. Unfortunately, these islands were the most susceptible to floods and property damage, even to one meter of water.

My co-workers quickly phoned schools and district offices, telling them the latest news on the tsunami and asking if they were ok. Once a plan was situated, co-workers marked off each school and office contacted while others double-checked the conditions on the internet.

I didn’t know what to do. I had never been in a tsunami. Being from San Diego, California, the most I’ve endured besides the desert heat was a mild earthquake or two. However, watching everyone spring into action and some co-workers hurriedly leave for their homes, I worried. My husband, who came to Okinawa a week before, was at home, most likely without a clue about what was happening because he didn’t speak Japanese nor watched Japanese television. He also had no cell phone or home phone, so my worry increased. My supervisor looked at me, saw the worried expression, and told me to go home.

“Go to higher ground around 5:00 PM,” he warned before instructing me of places I could go. “It should hit around 5:40 PM today.” I left and drove, worriedly, towards my home. When I entered, I found my husband airing out the laundry. I quoted my coordinator and started packing an emergency bag. My husband was calm the whole time, even joking around about surfing on the water (because he is a surfer).

Around 5:00 PM, I phoned my friend on the mainland. Her phone was busy, as was many Japanese phones that day. I phoned another teacher who was from Florida. “Ah, I think I’m going to go out for a run,” he declared, upbeat and unperturbed by the news. “I’m closer to the coast anyways, so if I see anything, I’ll phone you. But I don’t think you’ll have to move.” So, since he just transferred from Yamanashi and been through several earthquakes, tsunamis, and typhoons in the last three years, I decided to trust his words.

My husband and I stayed home, and when he began to worry over the footage of cars bobbing in the Japanese bays and fires in the cities, we switched it off. I know it seems really strange to try to calm down, but we ended up watching random things online until 10:00 PM. Still, when we went to bed, the emergency bag sat the door in case we really needed to use it.