This column was written and published before I cut my hair. Even shorter, humidity remains a problem.
I'm considering a career change. I'm thinking about moonlighting as a meteorologist.
Without any training or education, I'm able to predict the weather in Okinawa. Mostly I'm able to predict rain showers with great ease. I simply look in the mirror. My hair predicts the rain in a high rising way. It gets frizzy. Unbelievable frizzy and out of control.
The curlier my hair is in the morning, the more likely I am to grab an umbrella.
Prior to our move to Okinawa, I researched the climate of this southern Japanese island. The newcomer's information posted on Marine Corps Web sites told me to prepare for tropical weather. I should pack shorts and T-shirts for yearround wear.
It also talked about the rainy season. May is suppose to be a rainy month. Last year, it rained every single day during the month of May. I welcomed this climate change by purchasing blue polka dotted rain boats.
This May, the rain was sparse. When I spotted a shower, I would slip on my boats, but by the time I was splashing in a puddle, the rain would suddenly stop. Disappointed and sweaty, I would switch back into my flip flops.
Marines officials also warned that the hot weather of Okinawa during the summer is “no joke,” according to public affairs articles printed last summer. “The temperatures and humidity ... can even be deadly for those who fail to properly hydrate themselves and take precautions to avoid heat injuries.”
Many told me that Okinawa's heat would be unbearable for an American. Walking outside would feel like walking into an oven, they said. I scoffed at them. I have survived two hot beds of the United States: Yuma, Arizona and Wichita Falls, Texas. I'm no stranger to heat and humidity.
Wichita Falls' humidity made the stifling heat of my childhood in Iowa seem like a dream. I remember when my sisters came to visit in July 2003 and they refused to leave my air-conditioned apartment. The humidity of Wichita Falls is no joke. But it's no comparison to the humidity of this island.
In Okinawa, it's hot and humid the entire year. During the three hottest months – June, July and August-- the average humidity is 82 percent and temperatures stick at a steamy 94. The humidity weighs on your chest and you struggle to exercise outdoors. The only relief is to stay indoors and bask in the modern convenience of air conditioning. I also ate a lot of ice cream. Cold, creamy strawberry ice cream can one forget that outside my mouth, my body is feeling the 95 degree heat and 85 percent humidity.
When I'm not eating ice cream I am counting down the days until the coldest month, January arrives. For the New Year, temperatures are expected to stay in the 70s with 70 percent humidity. Locals say that's when you pull out your sweaters and light jackets. Right now I can't imagine wearing sleeves or long pants again. Maybe Okinawa's relentless sun has fried my brain.
I was convinced it would never cool off when out of no where it happened.
I walked from my car to a restaurant Friday night without breaking into a fierce sweat. The sun was still in the sky and a cool breeze wandered through my not-so-frizzy hair. My hair relaxed a bit. The hope rose in my heart.
Maybe we are getting a break in the heat. Maybe my hair will finally settled down for a few months.
Maybe my time as an amateur meteorologist is coming to a close.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Keeping tabs on Okinawa's carpet keepers
Editor's note: Tammy suggested that I post my weekly military spouse column on the blog. Here is my latest installment. I may post more over the next week. Just a note, the Wichita Falls Times Record News owns this content, blah, blah, and legal jargon, blah, blah. Enough said.
I nearly fell out of my chair. Not that a tumble would have been all bad. At least my head would have landed on a plush Persian rug.
This weekend a friend invited me to attend a rug auction fundraiser. I delighted in the chance to play Middle Eastern shopper for the afternoon, even if I didn't buy anything. Sure a eight feet by 10 feet Pakistan black wool rug would complement our hardwood-floored home. But we simply aren't fancy enough for Oriental or Persian ownership. Red wine and barbecue sauce stains wouldn't blend in with a pink Chinese floral carpet at my house.
Regardless of my inability to purchase I picked up an auction number. One never knows when auction fever might infect your paddle-raising hand. A girl has to be prepared. But I didn't catch the fever last Saturday. I was diagnosed with sticker shock.
The first rug on the auction block was white super fine Isfahan from Pakistan. The starting bid? $4,000. This is where my head nearly hit the floor.
Instead my eyes bugged open and my jaw dropped. $4,000? They couldn't be serious. Maybe the store owner and the auctioneer had a misunderstanding. Or a yen exchange rate snafu. Surely something a human walks on couldn't cost more than my car.
The auctioneer started to defend the opening bid saying "This rug retails for $12,000. That's right, folks, if you went to the store, you would pay $12,000. Today, and today only, the bids start at $4,000."
When you put it in that perspective $4,000 is a steal. This same reasoning almost caused me to raise my arm for rugs that ranged in price from $600 to $1,200. Compared to $4,000, a $600 red wool rug from Afghanistan is a bargain bin special. I'm sure my husband would see it that way too.
At this fundraiser I discovered a subculture of Americans living in Okinawa. Before Saturday I believed that American service members and their families could be broken down into three general groups: body builders, Bible readers or beer drinkers. So far my husband and I haven't found a particular niche group for us.
Maybe this was it. Maybe we would become rug aficionados.
These carpet keepers, as I like to call them, spend their weekends rubbing their hands over wool and silk. They debate the cost returns of vegetable versus synthetic dyes. They smile with delight upon hearing the words "double knot." They swap statistics about knots per square inch. They flip a carpet to expose its backside and aren't afraid to make a snap judgment based on this view. They turn up their noses at most rugs I would sell a kidney to buy.
At Saturday's auction I attempted to join my new social group. During a bidding break, I made a joke to a serious bidder about Aladdin flying away with a red runner on display. He didn't laugh.
Rug aficionados don't laugh at my Disney jokes. They laugh at those of us who would dare buy a machine stitched Persian knock off. They are disappointed with my lack of understanding that a rug is a piece of art. They see these rugs as an investment into a family heirloom. I see it as a way to cover the floor.
Near the end of the auction, a 100 percent wool prayer rug was held up. The starting bid was $600. It was pretty, but not exquisite enough for the carpet keepers. Without any bids this rug would return to the showroom. It broke my heart that no one bid on that rug, I whispered to my friend.
"Why didn't you buy it?" she said.
"I don't have $600," I said.
"You want a bookshelf at the furniture store that costs $600. You have the money, it is just a matter of what you want to spend it on."
Point taken. The reality was I didn't want to invest into the life of a rug aficionado. I choose to remain a black sheep, an outsider to this world. At least in my world, my jokes are funny.
I nearly fell out of my chair. Not that a tumble would have been all bad. At least my head would have landed on a plush Persian rug.
This weekend a friend invited me to attend a rug auction fundraiser. I delighted in the chance to play Middle Eastern shopper for the afternoon, even if I didn't buy anything. Sure a eight feet by 10 feet Pakistan black wool rug would complement our hardwood-floored home. But we simply aren't fancy enough for Oriental or Persian ownership. Red wine and barbecue sauce stains wouldn't blend in with a pink Chinese floral carpet at my house.
Regardless of my inability to purchase I picked up an auction number. One never knows when auction fever might infect your paddle-raising hand. A girl has to be prepared. But I didn't catch the fever last Saturday. I was diagnosed with sticker shock.
The first rug on the auction block was white super fine Isfahan from Pakistan. The starting bid? $4,000. This is where my head nearly hit the floor.
Instead my eyes bugged open and my jaw dropped. $4,000? They couldn't be serious. Maybe the store owner and the auctioneer had a misunderstanding. Or a yen exchange rate snafu. Surely something a human walks on couldn't cost more than my car.
The auctioneer started to defend the opening bid saying "This rug retails for $12,000. That's right, folks, if you went to the store, you would pay $12,000. Today, and today only, the bids start at $4,000."
When you put it in that perspective $4,000 is a steal. This same reasoning almost caused me to raise my arm for rugs that ranged in price from $600 to $1,200. Compared to $4,000, a $600 red wool rug from Afghanistan is a bargain bin special. I'm sure my husband would see it that way too.
At this fundraiser I discovered a subculture of Americans living in Okinawa. Before Saturday I believed that American service members and their families could be broken down into three general groups: body builders, Bible readers or beer drinkers. So far my husband and I haven't found a particular niche group for us.
Maybe this was it. Maybe we would become rug aficionados.
These carpet keepers, as I like to call them, spend their weekends rubbing their hands over wool and silk. They debate the cost returns of vegetable versus synthetic dyes. They smile with delight upon hearing the words "double knot." They swap statistics about knots per square inch. They flip a carpet to expose its backside and aren't afraid to make a snap judgment based on this view. They turn up their noses at most rugs I would sell a kidney to buy.
At Saturday's auction I attempted to join my new social group. During a bidding break, I made a joke to a serious bidder about Aladdin flying away with a red runner on display. He didn't laugh.
Rug aficionados don't laugh at my Disney jokes. They laugh at those of us who would dare buy a machine stitched Persian knock off. They are disappointed with my lack of understanding that a rug is a piece of art. They see these rugs as an investment into a family heirloom. I see it as a way to cover the floor.
Near the end of the auction, a 100 percent wool prayer rug was held up. The starting bid was $600. It was pretty, but not exquisite enough for the carpet keepers. Without any bids this rug would return to the showroom. It broke my heart that no one bid on that rug, I whispered to my friend.
"Why didn't you buy it?" she said.
"I don't have $600," I said.
"You want a bookshelf at the furniture store that costs $600. You have the money, it is just a matter of what you want to spend it on."
Point taken. The reality was I didn't want to invest into the life of a rug aficionado. I choose to remain a black sheep, an outsider to this world. At least in my world, my jokes are funny.
Monday, September 22, 2008
Okinawa, We have a baby belly
Every day Benny comes home, gives me a hug and looks directly at my belly. He is waiting for my baby belly to "pop" out. And today (at exactly the 17 week mark), Baby Volkmann pushed out my belly.
Until now I've been whining about my lack of a Buddha belly. When I tell people, like my boss, that I'm prego, they stare at my stomach in disbelief. Really? they say. How many months are you? Four months. Wow, you don't look pregnant at all.
This should be a good thing. I should be happy that I'm a modest mommy-to-be. As my sister Rachel pointed out "it's better that people saying 'what are you six, seven months along' when you are actually four months." Point taken, Rachel.
But without a belly, I don't "feel" pregnant. And when I sweating and lacking balance in my prenatal yoga classes, I feel like a fool. But not any more.
My belly has popped out! A co-worker even commented today about my "little cute prego belly." And I beamed back like a proud mother. I might even glowed a little.
.
This photo was taken on July 24, 2008. I have been the same size since then, so I haven't taken any more belly shots.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Dealbreaking photo
On Sunday, I posed as a Deal or No Deal girl at a local Marine Corps base festival. Here we are waiting in the shade to go on stage. In my defense, I was planning to make a cute tongue-sticking-out face, but the photographer was too fast. Hence, this is the only picture of me in the contest. Enjoy!
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Cyclone football in the middle of the night
For those readers who didn't grow up in the Corn State, I'll let you in on a little secret: the state's entire population stops whatever they are doing during the second weekend of September to watch the Iowa State vs. Iowa football game.
This game is a huge deal. Besides bragging rights for the entire year, the winning university also gets ownership of the Cy-Hawk Trophy.
My love affair with this annual match-up started in September 1998. I didn't attend the game at Iowa City and was working when the game was played, so I didn't see it. But I did partake in the celebrations when the students partied that Saturday evening. The partying was long overdue -- Iowa State hadn't won that game since 1982. The Cyclones went on to win against the Hawkeyes every year that Benny and I were at college. We know we had an hand in those victories.
Since graduating, I haven't been back in Iowa during the Great Game. When I moved to Wichita Falls, Texas, I watched the game at a sports bar alone while my friends were tailgating. In Yuma, Benny and I watched the game at Buffalo Wild Wings with an uninvited Iowa fan. Five years ago, we watched the interstate rival game from a hotel room in Pensacola, Florida. We were in town for Benny;s Officer Candidate School graduation. This was the first time I experienced the game with non-Iowans or Cyclone grads. Benny's family members were good sports about my obsession. I even have forgiven Benny's brother Jon for cheering for the Hawkeyes. Some people just don't know any better.
I thought that my 10-year streak of viewing the Iowa State-Iowa game would come to a halt this weekend. But thanks to our AFN satellite dish, we watched the game live!!!
Kick off was at 1 a.m. Sunday morning, so I took a long nap Saturday in preparation for the game. I didn't have any beers or grilled hot dogs, or even chili from Tip Top. But I had my favorite Cyclone fan, a comfortable and dry seat, and a great view of every play.
The only thing that would have made this Iowa State experience better? A Cyclone victory.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Thursday, September 11, 2008
Time for a geography lesson
Sweet Kati, being her usual concerned self, sent me a email yesterday expressing distress about the earthquake that struck Japan.
Minutes before Kati's email, I heard a short report on the radio that a earthquake and small tsunami happened in Japan. So I Googled the report and found this article on Time magazine's Web site:
A magnitude 7.0 earthquake hit northern Japan on Thursday morning, triggering a small tsunami that apparently caused no damage, Japan's Meteorological Agency said. There were no immediate reports of injuries.
The agency said the quake hit at 9:21 a.m. off the eastern coast Hokkaido, Japan's northernmost island at a depth of about 12.4 miles.
A 4-inch tsunami rippled at the shore about 35 minutes after the quake.
A warning had been issued for a tsunami of up to 20 inches along the eastern coast of Hokkaido and the northeastern coast of Japan's main island of Honshu. Authorities ordered people to stay away from beaches.
National broadcaster NHK showed footage of the coastal area, but there did not appear to be any damage. The report said the force of the quake had not broken windows or knocked items from shelves.
So just to recap, this earthquake was on the most northern island of Japan and we live on the southern most island of Japan. We are more than a 3-hour airplane flight from Tokyo (to the disappointment of many of my friends and family that thought a visit with the V-Team would mean shopping and drinking in Tokyo). It's basically like asking a New Yorker how they are after a earthquake hits San Francisco. It's quite a distance away.
We do get earthquakes here, but there are small and hardly noticeable. I'm usually the only person who wakes up to the doors rattling.
So to recap, we are OK and fine. No worries, Kati.
Minutes before Kati's email, I heard a short report on the radio that a earthquake and small tsunami happened in Japan. So I Googled the report and found this article on Time magazine's Web site:
A magnitude 7.0 earthquake hit northern Japan on Thursday morning, triggering a small tsunami that apparently caused no damage, Japan's Meteorological Agency said. There were no immediate reports of injuries.
The agency said the quake hit at 9:21 a.m. off the eastern coast Hokkaido, Japan's northernmost island at a depth of about 12.4 miles.
A 4-inch tsunami rippled at the shore about 35 minutes after the quake.
A warning had been issued for a tsunami of up to 20 inches along the eastern coast of Hokkaido and the northeastern coast of Japan's main island of Honshu. Authorities ordered people to stay away from beaches.
National broadcaster NHK showed footage of the coastal area, but there did not appear to be any damage. The report said the force of the quake had not broken windows or knocked items from shelves.
So just to recap, this earthquake was on the most northern island of Japan and we live on the southern most island of Japan. We are more than a 3-hour airplane flight from Tokyo (to the disappointment of many of my friends and family that thought a visit with the V-Team would mean shopping and drinking in Tokyo). It's basically like asking a New Yorker how they are after a earthquake hits San Francisco. It's quite a distance away.
We do get earthquakes here, but there are small and hardly noticeable. I'm usually the only person who wakes up to the doors rattling.
So to recap, we are OK and fine. No worries, Kati.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Time for a typhoon
This morning, this e-mail was in my inbox, thanks to my boss.
Typhoon Sinlaku is currently located approximately 323 Nautical Miles southwest of Okinawa heading in a northerly direction.
If Typhoon Sinlaku continues on its current path its closest point to Kadena Air Base will now be 149 Nautical Miles west on Monday, 15 Sep at approximately 0700hrs local. At that time we can expect to be receiving winds of 90 KTS gusting up to 110 KTS at its center.
We are currently remain in TCCOR 3. Destructive winds of 50 knots or greater are possible within 48 hours. Initiate a general cleanup around home and office.
Additional updates to be provided as they become available.
Benny has been swapped this week at work preparing for it. He will probably be on call this weekend in case anything goes down. We already took down our AFN satellite dish (dispute my protesting) so we most likely won't see the big Ohio State-USC matchup on Sunday morning local time. Same goes for highlights from the game of the season: the Iowa-Iowa State game and its Cy-Hawk Trophy.
If you don't hear from us over the weekend, no worries. It just means we've lost electricity and are playing cards until the storms blows over. I'm hoping to get a ton of knitting and reading accomplished over the weekend. Bring on my first typhoon.
Typhoon Sinlaku is currently located approximately 323 Nautical Miles southwest of Okinawa heading in a northerly direction.
If Typhoon Sinlaku continues on its current path its closest point to Kadena Air Base will now be 149 Nautical Miles west on Monday, 15 Sep at approximately 0700hrs local. At that time we can expect to be receiving winds of 90 KTS gusting up to 110 KTS at its center.
We are currently remain in TCCOR 3. Destructive winds of 50 knots or greater are possible within 48 hours. Initiate a general cleanup around home and office.
Additional updates to be provided as they become available.
Benny has been swapped this week at work preparing for it. He will probably be on call this weekend in case anything goes down. We already took down our AFN satellite dish (dispute my protesting) so we most likely won't see the big Ohio State-USC matchup on Sunday morning local time. Same goes for highlights from the game of the season: the Iowa-Iowa State game and its Cy-Hawk Trophy.
If you don't hear from us over the weekend, no worries. It just means we've lost electricity and are playing cards until the storms blows over. I'm hoping to get a ton of knitting and reading accomplished over the weekend. Bring on my first typhoon.
Sunday, September 7, 2008
20 Pounds Lighter
My first donation to Locks of Love was a success.
My head feels 20 pounds lighter. My hair isn't nearly as crazy. I can wash it with less shampoo and blow it dry in 10 minutes instead of 30 minutes.
I'm really pleased with my decision and happy I grew my hair for two years to accomplish this goal.
My head feels 20 pounds lighter. My hair isn't nearly as crazy. I can wash it with less shampoo and blow it dry in 10 minutes instead of 30 minutes.
I'm really pleased with my decision and happy I grew my hair for two years to accomplish this goal.
Friday, September 5, 2008
H Day
Saturday is H Day AKA Hair Day.
Hair Day will be a big day for two reasons: 1) I'm getting my first hair cut from a highly recommended Japanese stylist. I've lived here for five months, but I haven't cut my hair here. My last trim was in Newcastle, Australia in May.
2) This isn't your typical trim. I'm chopping my long locks (at least 10 inches of them) and donating the hair to Locks of Love. I'm pretty nervous how this is all going to turn out, but I remember how well the experience worked out for Tammy and Shelly. Both have donated their hair before and gave me the idea to do the same.
So my days of long curly hair will be gone and hopefully replaced with a new cute style.
After much stressing over my new hair cut --which probably caused more gray hairs -- I am armed with three choices.
Any input?
Choice A
Choice B
Choice C
Just kidding. Benny already vetoed this hair style.
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