By popular demand

Several readers e-mailed me specifically requesting to see some photos of our Japanese home now that everything is unpacked and organized. Here is a virtual photo tour of the V-Team Mizugama house:

After you park your car, walk up the stairs where there are two duplexes. We are duplex A. Look for our mailbox.


Hello there. I'll be your tour guide.


Once inside, here is the entryway. Benny usually hangs his uniform here. I have my bridesmaid dress, since I just picked it up from the alterations shop.


Please put your shoes here. This box at the entryway to leave your shoes is typical of a Japanese home. This photo is a little blurry. Apparently I was moving fast when I snapped this shot.


Walk into our dining room on the right and kitchen on the left.


One side of the kitchen


The other side of the kitchen


The Japanese refrigerator


From inside the tatami room looking out into the dining room. The tatami room is our guest room, my reading room and Benny's napping room.


Benny grilling kobe beef on our narrow patio. Notice how much smaller this grill is compared to the one we have in the States.


The shower/bath


Now up the stairs and behind door No. 1 is our bedroom.


We have a second balcony outside our bedroom. This is usually where I hang up our laundry to bake in the sun.


This is the view from the second story patio.



Behind door No. 2 is the storage room, where we dump everything that doesn't fit somewhere else in the house.


Behind door No. 3 is our study/entertainment door.

This is where we watch television and I write.



So that completes your tour of the Volkmann Japanese house.

Magic Phone

Worried about what time it might be in Okinawa when you call? Stop worrying. Most of the time we don't even hear the phone ring. The good news: we have voicemail. The bad news: We have to figure out who leaves messages like this one:



If you still need the magic phone number, email Michelle or Benny.

Not my day

Some days are a struggle. Today was one of those days.

I woke up chipper with a grand plan. I was going to attend the Battle of Okinawa memorial service at the Peace Prayer Park. I wanted to observe the anniversary of the end of the World War II battle on this island by listening to both the U.S. service at 10:30 a.m. and the Japanese service at 11 a.m. I planned for my photos and observations of the event to be the founding material for my weekly column in the Wichita Falls Times Record News.

The park is on the south side of the island, 50 kilometers south of Naha. We live 23 kilometers north of Naha, so I knew the drive was going to be long, even though this was my first time going to the park. By 8:45 a.m. I was out the door.

I hit a bit of traffic in Naha. I noticed that children weren't in school, so I assumed that today was a state or national holiday. That also explained the heavy traffic in Naha. I continued following the blue signs toward Highway 331 and "heiwakinen memorial park." Luckily I looked at an English tourist Web site before leaving the house so I knew the park's Japanese name.

About 15 kilometers from my destination, I hit a second traffic jam. It looked like a high school baseball tournament was starting and parents were looking for parking spots along the highway. This is the same spot where the road hit a T intersection without any signs directing me in a particular direction. I take a left and drove for a few kilometers. I decided this wasn't right and turned around.

Turning around is especially difficult for me in Okinawa. Maybe it's the fact that I learned to drive on the other side of the road. Maybe it's the absence of a grid road system so a left, followed by two more lefts doesn't necessarily mean you will return to the same highway. Or maybe it's the narrow side streets that make me nervous. Actually it's a combination of all three reasons that cause my turn-around frustrations.

A few kilometers in the opposite direction and I'm back on track. I know because I'm seeing the blue tourist signs again directing me to the peace prayer park. About seven kilometers from the park I'm moving very slowly. I'm following hundreds of cars and buses. I start to see huge crowds of Okinawans wearing matching T-shirts waving signs and Japanese flags marching to the park. The group had everyone from toddlers to people who looked to be about 90 years old. They are chatting as they walk in the 90 degree heat, 80 percent humidity.

I've never seen anything like this before. Is it a memorial march? Is it a demonstration? It is smart people who know where to park so they don't get caught in the traffic jam like me? What do their signs say? Is this march common? Or are their actions unusual? Because I can't understand the language I don't know, but I start to feel a bit uncomfortable alone in the car.

Thirty minutes later I reach the park's front entrance, but Japanese police officers wave me, along with my fellow travelers, past the gate. I'm assuming that they are directing us to an alternative parking lot. But again I can't read any signs and I keep getting waved in one direction or another at every intersection.

Before I know it, I've followed every J.P. hand gesture and I'm alone on Highway 225 -- surrounded by sugar cane fields. The roadway is empty, except for me. The time is 11:15 a.m. and it is clear that I will not be attending a war memorial service today. I need to find my way home.

A dozen more turns combined with quick glances at the map at red stoplights and I'm returning north on Highway 331 to Naha. I found my way, but I'm disappointed about my morning. I had such grand plans. Now I have to revise my column plans or return to the park later this week and write the column from a personal visit experience. I can't decide right now. (Here is a AOL news story about what I missed.) I've been in the car driving for three hours straight in stop and go traffic and I'm exhausted and sweaty.

I dressed up and even washed and brushed my hair for this event, so I decide to seize the moment and stop at Ashibinaa -- Okinawa's outlet mall -- on my way home. I need to walk around. I need to get some lunch.

After window shopping at Levi's, Nine West, Valentino and Coach, I walk into the "international food court." I have five options including N.Y. Style Hamburger Curry, which I think is a mistranslation and "Tacorice -- Flavour of Okinawa." (With taco rice spelled like that it reminds me of licorice and I start to laugh thinking of chili and bean flavored candy.)

I order a "traditional Chinese rice bowl," which was pretty tasty. The ginger was especially good, but I'm not in the mood to eat the small egg on top. I'm assuming it's a quail egg, but my disappointing morning as left me unenthusiastic about new food experiences. My disappointment mounts when I sip my beverage through a straw. I thought I ordered Fanta orange soda in Japanese. Instead I'm drinking orange juice.

Today was not my day.

Photo of the week

Would any of you buy this T-shirt?

A "first of many" weekend

Friday night we hosted our "first of many" Navy parties. We sent invitations for the occasion -- Summer Solstice aka Longest Day of the Yea -- celebration two weeks ago and at first we didn't get a positive response. In the end seven people came, which was the perfect amount to play Cranium -- my favorite board game. I especially enjoyed watching a commander move an ensign's arms while he tried to get Benny's team to guess "hula dancer."

I stayed up until 1:30 a.m. frantically reading "The Pillars of the Earth" and got up at 6 a.m. to continue reading. I finished the lengthily book at 9:58 a.m. My book club meeting started at 10 a.m. I made it under the wire. I adore my book club members. It's a small group made up of Department of Defense school teachers and Navy spouses. Everyone had great insight into the book and I recommend it to anyone who wants to do some heavy reading. Now I need to start reading "Water for Elephants" for our July meeting on July 1.

After book club, Benny and I went to the furniture store and bought a reclining love seat. It will be delivered on Wednesday. Yeah!

We awoke before the sun today (Sunday morning) and drove north to a Marine Corps base on the east side of the island. Benny participated in his "first of many" triathlons alongside several super serious athletes. Okinawans completed a sweep in the competition, taking the top three spots in the 18-29 age bracket. Benny did well, especially considering he didn't train for this event. I told him to run without a shirt even though every other shirtless guy had colorful tattoos on his arms and backs. A shirt would so slow him down. Now if I could only get him to wear a Speedo for the swimming portion ....

There aren't pictures of Benny biking, running or swimming because he is too fast for our digital camera.

In the afternoon we went to our first Harrii (the Okinawan word for dragon boat races) in our neighborhood of Kadena-Cho. It was nice to walk to the festival and not have to worry about parking for a change. I enjoyed watching the children paddle while drinking Orion with Benny.




In the late afternoon we were surprised by a message on the magic phone from Dre and Chris. They were apparently drinking some cool beverages in Reno together. I need to figure out how to upload their message, so you can all hear it and laugh too.

Benny and I wrapped up a wonderful weekend by watching the Twins crush the Diamondbacks in a taped delay Sunday game (local time.)

Sadly our "first of many" weekend is coming to a close. I hope all of you in the States have a great Sunday.

Odds and Ends

A list of short updates and responses to readers' comments/feedback:

1) A house that isn't in chaos. Several readers brought it to my attention that I failed to post any photos of our home clean and decorated. I'm hoping to get that done this week so you can see the finished product of the move.

2) Weekly movie nights. We got Netflix. It was Benny's idea and I was thrilled. So far we have watched "Grizzly Man," a documentary about a guy who lived among bears in Alaska for 13 summers. Is he crazy? Is he dumb? Or is he actually trying to escape the realities of the modern world? This complex documentary explored these questions. We also saw the first DVD in the HBO series "When the Levees Broke," the Spike Lee film about Hurricane Katrina and New Orleans. With the flooding in Iowa being compared to Hurricane Katrina's destruction, watching this film has an eerie feel to it. We are looking for movie recommendations, so please e-mail any my way.

3) My first successful 5K. There was a 5K at Kadena Air Force Base on Saturday morning and Benny and I were debating about getting up for it. I was ready to turn off the alarm clock and continue sleeping when Benny mentioned that if we went to the race we could wear our matching running shirts. I was up. When the race started, I started to jog even though there were several people I could have power walked with instead. And I kept jogging and jogging, telling myself slow and steady like the tortoise and the rabbit fable. I finished in 37 minutes. Even though I have finished many 5Ks before, this was the first one where I ran the whole way. This is a HUGE accomplishment for me.

4) Michal Kors at the base exchange. Benny has been pleased with the lack of shopping I'm able to do because nothing fits me at the Japanese stores and my size is picked over at the base exchange. Until last week. That's when I found the Michael Kors rack at the base exchange. All the clothes were excellent, but I limited myself to black slacks, white button down and a blouse Benny is referring to as a my "art teacher" shirt.

5) June is a bust. I thought I could attend multiple tours, classes and workouts this month. But June is prime PCS season on island (translation: military folks are moving out or coming in). And this period of transition means constant cancellations. For example, I went to the pool for water aerobics last Tuesday. The pool has been drained. It's 99 degrees out and the pool doesn't have water in it, whose idea is that? I attend a pilates-yoga class and at the end the instructor says she is a PCSing, so this was the last class. Benny and I signed up to attend a group dinner night through the Marine Corps base on Friday night. We were going to a shabu shabu restaurant in Naha. It was cancelled due to lack of participants. Same with the traditional Japanese art classes I planned to take this month.

6) My nose in a book. I don't plan to write much this week since I need to read 700 pages before Saturday morning's book club meeting. Yes, you read that correctly ... 700 pages. I'm happy to see that my fellow Okinawa book club members are serious readers. I'm scared that I won't be able to keep up. Lugging around the nearly 1,000 paged "The Pillars of the Earth" by Ken Follett, makes me feel like Charlie Brown reading "War and Peace."

7) Dance moves. Thanks to Becky's posting about dads cutting up the rug in some kind of contest, Benny is pumped to learn some new dance moves before the July weddings. One is a salsa move where I fall back terrified into his arms. The other one is a dip where I look like I might hit the floor before he twists me back up. When practicing this move Sunday night, we discovered that if I was 4 foot tall it would be a much easier move to accomplish. Any advice on these moves from ballroom dancing couples out there? Loren and Karin, perhaps?

8) My favorite AFN program. Actually it isn't an AFN program it's a PBS documentary, but I'm watching it on AFN, so I'm giving "Carrier" the prize. My parents told me about this 10-hour documentary about the crew of the USS Nimitz. Then this film detailing Navy life started airing weekly in one-hour segments on AFN. I'm obsessed. I really feel for this people and when they are promoted my heart sings. When they mess up, I'm deflated. Plus I'm learning a lot about the Navy in a more entertainment way than when I ask Benny to explain the numerous alphabet terms to me. Check local listings. It's worth the time investment.

Sunday afternoon at Kokusai Dori

We spent Sunday at Kokusai Dori in Naha. It's THE PLACE to shop on Sundays.

Here is a sample of what we saw:

Orion is Okinawan for beer

On Saturday, Benny and I tried for a second time to travel north to Nago. The first stop was the Orion Brewery. Orion, whose slogan is "For Your Happy Time," has been producing beer in Nago for more than 50 years. The hops are German, so the taste of this Japanese is much better than the other Japanese beers we have been drinking.

I forgot to call ahead, requesting a tour in English, so we were handed a flyer explaining the brewery that we could read. The office clerk asked which one of us was the driver. Benny raised his hand.

She handed him this sign to wear for the rest of the self-guided tour, while I was handed my card for one free beer. Clearly there wasn't going to be as fun as our afternoon at New Belgium Brewery in Colorado with Glenn and Heather or even the Budweiser tour with Colleen, Adam and Rachel.

We walked through the brewery alone, which Benny thought was odd. I reminded him that Japanese culture is very trusting and the company trusted us to stay on the tour's path.

When we reached the tasting room, I enjoyed my classic Orion beer while Benny drank a can of oolong tea. We browsed the merchandise store. We bought some Orion snack mix, which are the best thing at the brewery in my opinion.

After the brewery, it was relatively early in the afternoon, so I told Benny let's look at the Nago castle ruins while we are in town. I didn't know anything about the castle ruins, except that there was a sign on Highway 58 pointing for this street to the castle ruins.

But after that one sign, there wasn't any more signs. So we drove up and down the streets of Nago. I looked at our maps, which are not very detailed. We crossed a green bridge and drove up a hill. We met a tour bus on the highway. This must be that the castle ruins are up this hill. We drove for a while, Benny took a left on a road he thought matched the one on the map. We drove around a hill, up and down a narrow road. Over and over again. We saw a white Buddha on a hilltop, but it was roped off and there wasn't a parking lot, so we didn't stop. Finally we saw a major road ahead of us. We were back where we started. This is when I started giggling uncontrollably.

It is moments like this where I feel that living in Okinawa is truly a test of one's self and one's marriage. It could be a test of one's navigational skills if the maps were accurate. I like to think that days like Saturday are preparation for Benny's and my future victory on the reality television travel show, The Amazing Race.

So we drove back down the hill and crossed the green bridge again. We saw a park on the right side so we turned into the parking lot there. Maybe this was connected to the castle ruins somehow, we thought.

We saw this fake waterfall, so we stopped for a photo.

We walked up 385 steps, which Benny called the Stairway to Heaven. It must lead to something important, right?

We came to a clearing where there was a stone shine. Was this the Nago castle ruins? We had no idea. We walked up some more steps and saw this shelter protecting a tree stump.

What was the significance of this tree stump? It must be important because there was a lengthily sign written in Kanji telling Japanese visitors about this place. We had a nice view of the city, but that was about it.

We walked down the stairs and ended up in a different parking lot than where we left Favre. And finally we find a sign that is translated in three languages. That shrine we saw is what remains of the 14th Century castle. And there was another part of the park with cherry blossom trees, tropical gardens and a swinging bridge. Benny wanted to check it out, but I simply said "Domo arrigato kekko dess."

That means "no thank you" in Japanese.

Not as fast as James Bond on the windy roads in Italy

But it sure feels like you are going too fast.

The speed limit on the clip is 30 km/hr, roughly about 20 mph. (I was close to the speed limit, but the camera adds an extra 10 km/hr.)

Most of the roads are a couple of lanes wide, but this one is by far is the most exciting to drive on out here (especially at night).



You can understand why Michelle was a little nervous to get her license at first out here. I think the motorcyclist knew we were on his tail, but Farve couldn't catch up... He just hasn't fully recovered from the cantelope rock incident. Maybe next season.

Please pray for my Midwest folks

Rain, storms and tornadoes will not seem to stop in the Midwest. And I know it must be awful if I'm hearing about it in Japan.

Every day I listen to NPR on my AFN radio for the latest American news. Usually the stories recap the business stories or political news of the USA. But lately, more and more I'm hearing the voices of my homeland describing a flood that may be worse than the floods of 1993. The flooding in Gays Mills, Wisconsin, was front page news on the Stars and Stripes of Wednesday.

Today I woke up to this news story out of Des Moines:
Tornado slams Iowa Boy Scout Camp

I talked to my sister, Colleen the other day and she said the rain never stops. When she landed in Cedar Rapids a few weeks ago, she thought there was a new lake in Iowa due to the heavy rains. My mom forwarded me an e-mail two days ago about my aunt's campgrounds in Elkader that had to be evacuated and the water is up to the church. I can't remember it ever flooding the Catholic Church before. My other aunt wrote "It is unreal how bad it is."

I found this video on YouTube this morning showing the river in Elkader:


As I hear the comparison to the great flood of 1993, I can only shake my head. Even though I was a child at the time, that year is stuck in my head as a "bad time" for Iowa. I remember vividly the photos on the front of the Sunday Des Moines Register illustrating Ames, including Iowa State's Hilton Coliseum, submerged in 14 feet of water.

It is moments like this when I wish I could magically fly back and be there with my extended family. I hope the annual Willes Fathers Day picnic at Pikes Peak in McGregor doesn't get rained out on Sunday. I wish I could help. I want to fill sandbags. I want to report the stories of the people living in Gays Mills or Cedar Falls. Instead all I can do it pray.

It is moments like this one that makes me homesick.

How do you say "I don't speak Japanese"?

Last Thursday I went to the first-in-a-four part introductory Japanese language class offered to military personnel and their families.

The class is two hours every Thursday night throughout the month of June. The goal is once you complete this class you can go on to the second level in July. I had high hopes for this class. I thought that this class would teach me the words I needed to communicate with my non-English speaking neighbors. Finally I could order from a menu and converse with the saleswoman at the 100 Yen shop.

Let's face the facts: I'm foreign language challenged. I barely grasp English, so learning a second language is nearly impossible for me. Benny learns a phrase a week, thanks to his administrative assistant. She writes the phrase on a white board in his office and he practices it with his co-workers. So far he has learned to say "No worries," "Thanks for the hard work," and "Have a good weekend." I think he also learned the days of the week because he has been singing the "Happy Days" television show's theme music is Japanese lately.

Benny knows enough German to talk to my Berlin-born grandmother and can order a chicken taco in Spanish, even though there is a long-standing joke with our Yuma friends over the time Benny mispronounced "dinero."

I, on the other hand, took six years of Spanish and can barely remember to say "thank you" or "hello" at a Mexican restaurant. And for some reason being in Japan has made my Spanish skills stronger than ever. I frequently say "Hola" when I mean to say "Konnichiwa." It's a cultural disaster.

The class offered on base is free, so I can't complain. It is taught by volunteers, which are native speakers, so their Japanese is excellent. But their English isn't the best, so when I ask questions such as:

"OK, so there isn't a word for 'hello' in Japanese. I need to say either 'good morning,' 'good afternoon,' or 'good evening,' right?"

"Hai," my sensei said giving me an affirmative response.

"So what time do I change from saying 'good afternoon' to 'good evening'? 6 p.m.? After I've ate dinner? 9 p.m.?"

My sensei (teacher in Japanese) gives me a confused look and continues to repeat the phrases in Japanese.

Learning just a sliver of Japanese has made me realize why Japanese children score higher on math and science tests than American children. First of all, there is 48 letters in their alphabet and they don't even have the letter "l". Some letters are repeated, at least the sound is, but the way the sound is written makes it a completely different letter. Every single word ends in either a vowel or the letter "n." Plus there is formal speech and causal speech for everything including what you call your grandmother to how you ask for a toilet. Meanwhile I can't even remember the word for "toilet."

All I want to learn to say is "I don't speak Japanese" and most importantly "Do you have a menu in English?"

Tonight I return for my second lesson. I wonder what I will learn .... hmmm, maybe I should write a posting about my class in my limited Japanese. Would this be a good way to practice?

SATC without my ladies

Having survived the tire incident, Benny and I proceeded with our regularly scheduled separate Saturday outings in the evening.

Benny went to Uno (translation: poker) night with the boys from his office and I went to the base's movie theater for the premiere of Sex and the City movie in Okinawa. Most of my stateside friends who watched the show and even those that didn't (like Colleen) had already seen it. I was beginning to feel a little behind the times.

Before I continue, I would like to mention that my favorite Texan, Lara, introduced me to Sex and the City when I was lonely in Wichita Falls. I can't remember what the circumstances were exactly, but she loaned the first three seasons to me. She said I would like it. I became obsessed with it. I watched the DVDs in record time. Before long we had a regular ladies night at Gary's house on Sunday nights where we would share food and watch the show together. Brye, Lara and I often debated the characters' actions and we found a bit of ourselves in Charlotte, Samantha, Carrie and Miranda. I'm a huge Miranda fan.

Flashfoward six years: I arrived at the theater 10 minutes prior to showtime and there was a long line of ladies. Each one was dressed up and they seemed to be divided into groups of four, mirroring the characters of my favorite HBO series. I was wearing flip flops, a denim skirt and a tank top. I'm pretty sure I still had grease on my hands from Favre's breakdown, so please forgive me, pretty military spouses.

I wanted to enjoy this movie. I did. And I wanted to talk about the show with Tammy, who had kept me up to date on every news article about the movie for more than a year. Lucky Duck, Tammy covered the movie's premiere in Reno when I was in Sydney a few weeks ago.

The whole theme of the television show is the bond between female friends and how men, children and careers can't break this lifetime bond.

Sitting there alone in the theater, I couldn't get caught up in Miranda's sarcastic comments or Carrie's fashion blunders. All I could think about was the close female friends I've made through the years. And how I wished we could reunite from Kansas, Texas, Floriday, Arizona, Iowa, Idaho, Minnesota, Missouri, Nebraska, Nevada, DC, California and Virginia and share one last ladies movie night together.

Q: How does a rock the size of the cantelope stop the V-Team?

A: It jumps out in front of Farve and temporarily sidelines him.

We'd been looking forward to going to Nago for some time, and were excited for our day trip on Saturday. We loaded the iPod with road trip tunes and got on the open road. Open road meaning it takes about 75 minutes to drive the 52km through the stoplights and towns on the scenic route to Nago.

We managed to avoid most of the rain, which didn't matter since we were going to be inside most of the day. We were about 2km outside of Nago when Copilot Michelle radioed over to Pilot Benny "WATCH OUT FOR THAT RO" clunk clunk. I looked in the rear view mirror as two of Farve's hubcaps sailed off onto the shoulder. I pulled over to find out what Farve hit. The "RO" was a rock in the road that Michelle saw at the last second , and I hit it square. So square that it managed to go under both wheels on the left side (passenger's side), knock off two hubcaps, and put a ding in one of the rims.

Another car pulled up behind me, and behind him a JP (Japanese Policeman) pulled up (all within 30 seconds of pulling over, a response time faster than Flash). Through broken English, the JP tells me that my hubcap hit the car behind me, scratching the bumper of the car driven by a University Student. Following my handy dandy instruction card on my license, I call the MPs (military police) at Camp Foster. "We'll send an MP and translator right away, they should be there in about an hour". Yup, we had to wait an hour for them to drive on the "expressway" (read "non-scenic" route) to get to us to file a report. It's the law.

In the meantime, I walked back to recover my hubcaps that were lying on the left and right side of the road. The hubcaps were just waiting for someone else to drive over them and cause an accident. I grabbed one and was about to get the other when I was stopped. "NO!" said the JP, apparently not wanting me to disturb the "crime scene." What about the rock, it's still laying in the road? Nope, that has to stay put too. Great, I'm just waiting for some other poor schmuck to run over the rock, or my hubcaps. Well, we're going to be here a while, how about I get a start on changing my tire. You can guess what that answer was... nein.

After 20 minutes of waiting, nature calls. And I'm not just talking about the rain coming down, but having to use the facilities that are not anywhere to be seen within 200 meters. So I tell JP that Michelle has to use the bathroom, and seeing no where to go, tells us to get into his car. Both of us, not just Michelle (apparently I was a flight risk). So we go to the station a minute closer to Nago, use the facilities, and he tells us to hang out since it'll be another 30 minutes until the MPs show up. So we hang out at the JP station awhile and jump back in the car to get back to the scene of the accident.

The MP and translator from Camp Foster show up and laugh at their lost in translation moment with the dispatch. They thought we had hit a curb and a wheel came off. It could have been worse, but thankfully no one was hurt. After finding out the MP is from Wisconsin, just south of Green Bay, Michelle found yet another GB fan.

Police report filled out, check. Changing tire, after a NASCAR pit stop pace with the translator, check. (He used to work at the auto hobby place on Camp Foster, and insisted on helping me put the donut on Farve). Revision to itinerary? Unfortunately, yes.

The donut wasn't going to make it up to Nago, then back to Kadena. So we turned around. The thought crossed my mind to just charge on to Nago, it was so close... yet Kadena was so far getting back. So we went straight to the salvage yard back in Kadena to find a new rim. Twenty-one dollars and 50 cents later, I had the rim replaced. Much cheaper than the rims that I damaged when I was younger... I wonder if I ever paid Dad for them...

Yet again, I remember Dad's advice to watch where we were driving. I remember one of us kids hitting a rock before (in addition to the other things I hit with the Red Truck) and getting flack for some time about it because it damaged the rim just like I did on Saturday. And yet again, Dad was right in the end--no matter how slow we are to admit it. How appropriate with Father's Day coming up.

And Farve, he's back in action. We're keeping an eye on him for any long-term effects or concussions. He did alright back in his first start on Sunday, a 75 minute drive in the other direction to Ikei Island.

It's like Facebook for Oki spouses

On Monday, Benny came across the coolest Web site for me.

It's called Okinawa Hai Society. It's basically a social network online for military spouses living in Okinawa. As it says on the Web site, "we are all in the same boat," so it's a place to post questions and get answers from your fellow spouses.

Of course, I became a member and am hoping to make some friends (in real person) through this site.

I wish I would found this site before we moved. It would have been a great tool to get my questions answered in the months leading up to the move.

"Dai ja bu" or no worries in Japanese. I can use the site to get information now and hopefully share my wisdom with some spouses planning to relocate here.

In one month

The countdown begins.

In exactly one month, our Yuma and Navy friends, Jeremy and Andrea, are getting hitched in Andrea's hometown: Elko, Nevada.

Then two weeks later, our Yuma newspaper friends, Tammy and Chris, are tying the knot in Graeagle, California.

Wedding season was even in the air in Sydney during their winter. Check out this bridal photo shoot that we saw on the stairs of the Sydney Opera House.

In less than a month, Benny and I will boarding an international flight to return to San Francisco for the happy couples' events. Benny is excited to be a groomsman in the Nevaris wedding and I'm honored to be a bridesmaid for Team Gabel. Benny even started making a planning binder with our travel accommodations, maps and reservations. At least he hasn't made a PowerPoint presentation of the plans yet.

Besides being wedding season for us, July is also the high point for typhoons in Okinawa. So everyone should cross their fingers twice that this summer is a short, uneventful time for typhoons so that the V-Team can have a happy and long holiday in the States.

Photos of Newcastle

Rachel studying for finals.


Sunset in Newcastle. This coastal city is beautiful. The sand is so soft at the beaches and it squeaks under your feet. Colleen said it sounded like you were walking on top of Wisconsin cheese curds.


Colleen in front of the old post office of Newcastle. Now it's a bar and restaurant called The Commons. Newcastle is the second oldest city in Australia and the sixth largest city in the country.


Enjoying some Australia wine in Newcastle. Hunter Valley, where most Australian wines are produced, is about an hour from Newcastle.

Who says there is nothing to do in Newcastle?

RACHEL'S UNI -- No, that's not UNI otherwise known as the University of Northern Iowa. It's Rachel's university or uni for short. She attended the University of Newcastle this fall (remember the seasons are reversed Down Under and yes she had two fall semester and no spring semester during her sophomore year.

In Australia, university is shorten to uni. Breakfast is breckie. Rachel became Rach.

Newcastle was a different experience than the rest of the trip. Here we didn't stay in a hotel or hostel. We lived with Rachel and her flat mates. When we arrived by train late Sunday and walked into her dorm it was clear that this was a college student's home. The filth was incredible. I was pretty sure that Colleen was going to die from the uncleanliness on sight.

But what the Aussies lacked in Pine Sol, they made up ten folds in friendliness. A quick trip down the hall and Rachel returned with two mattresses, pillows and blankets for Colleen and I. All donations from her roommates. I wanted to tell them "thank you," but I wasn't sure how they would chop it shorter.

We visited Newcastle for this experience: to see where Rachel lived for five months, meet her friends and see her campus. Oh, there was another thing -- introduce American food to these Aussies.

We unloaded the bags of Reese's Peanut Butter cups in Rach's room. She opened the first bag and started sharing them. One of the guys, I can't remember his name, had traveled to the United States before and loved Reese's. He said that was the only good about America.

For the rest of the gang, this was their first taste of chocolate and peanut butter together in prepackaged form. It was priceless to watch their reactions. Most said it was good, but you could tell that the candy was too sweet for their tongues. Alan, another one of Rach's mates, ate half and said he would saved the rest for later. That half a peanut butter cup was still sitting in the fridge when I left to fly to Japan.

The other American food Rachel had us haul there was Twizzlers. First they tried the original. Chewy was the verdict. "It tastes like plastic," Sarah, Rachel's friend, said. Really plastic? I took a bite. Yeah it does kind of taste like plastic, but a yummy cherry plastic.

Colleen said she knew they wouldn't like Twizzlers after she tasted Australian licorice. Their licorice, which comes in mango, green apple and raspberry flavors, is chewy, but soft with a more subtle sugar flavor. The fruit flavors are much stronger. I brought several bags of it back with me.

Next up? The Pull and Peal Twizzlers. Rachel tried to describe this junk food staple to the Aussies and they couldn't grasp it. They said it must be like string cheese. Again they were right. Sort of.

So they weren't impressed with American food. Oh well.

My six packages of Tim Tams (an Australia chocolate cookies) were already packed in my suitcase. I was bringing the best of Australia back with me to share. Mmmm. Tim Tams.

Blue Moutains: As I saw it

The token photo of three sisters in front of Three Sisters. According to Wikipedia, The Sisters were formed by erosion. The soft sandstone of the Blue Mountains is easily eroded over time by wind, rain and rivers, and the cliffs surrounding the Jamison Valley are being slowly broken up. The article also says that the legend of the three sisters being imprisioned in stone for loving three brothers from a neighboring tribe is nothing more than the result of modern tourism.



Looking down while riding the skyrail. It has a glass floor so you can see the Jamison Valley.


Since the weather was chilly in the mountains, I opted for a pot of tea or hot chocolate whenever I got the chance.


Is this where the waterfall begins? I think that's why we took this picture.

Next stop Three Sisters ... wait, isn't that us?

KATOOMBA, NEW SOUTH WALES-- The whole reason we went to the Blue Mountains National Park was to see the rock formation called Three Sisters, because we are three sisters. Get it? Three sisters. Corny, I know. I love it.

Plus I wanted to do a bit of bushwalking (that's Aussie for hiking) among the eucalyptus trees and try to figure out why the early British settlers couldn't conquer these mountains, which pale in comparison to the Rockies or Sierras.

We hadn't planned for this leg of the trip beyond booking a hotel room. So when we ran into fellow travelers in Cairns and Sydney, we would ask if they had any recommendations for the Blue Mountains area. The repeated advice from both locals and foreigners was the same: Tour the Jenolan Caves.

But the caves aren't part of the national park, I whined. And the train doesn't go there. And it's more than 75 kilometers away. That's a whole day wasted to drive out to the caves and back. We only had one and half days scheduled for Katoomba. My mind was cluttered with excuses.

Luckily, my sisters talked some sense into me. "If everyone keeps talking about how cool these caves are, then shouldn't we see them?" Rachel pointed out. So the next morning we arrived at the bus shuttle tour place determined to see the caves that day. Arranging it involved quite a bit of scurrying around, but at 10 a.m. we were on the bus heading east toward the caves on the Great Western Highway.

Our guide, Garth, was a local character. He gave us tidbits of history during the drive, which I loved. Plus he had this thick Aussie accent that made me giggle every time a word came out of his mouth. He even talked about a platypus that he spotted at the lake at the caves "ages ago," which could mean he saw it yesterday or three years ago. Those Aussies and their darn language barrier. Rachel searched the waters for this native creature without any results.

Garth was the one that informed us that sometimes the fog is so thick in the mountains that you can't see Three Sisters. Yup, the whole reason we came to Katoomba was to take our picture in front of Three Sisters and it might not happen. Ah, the trials and errors of traveling.

We toured two caves and both were well worth the trip. The detailed beauty of 430 million years of formation can't be captured in the limited scope of my digital camera. That said it doesn't mean I didn't try to capture it with the majority of the photos showing up blurry because of my shaking hands on the night setting.

During the drive back to Katoomba, Garth stopped at a clearing where some roos were grazing. He feed them potato chips and encouraged us to do the same. All animals make me nervous, so I was gladly the official photographer for this experience. Colleen was the first in line to feed a "wild" kangaroo.

Overall it was one of the best tours of the trip, even with its high cost. And to think, I almost missed it because I didn't want to travel 75 additional kilometers.

The morale of this tale? Schedule more than a day and a half in the Blue Mountains National Park. There is more to see than Three Sisters.