Must keep moving

Grandma Donna (my mom) recently sent Olivia a super cute outfit. It's a strawberry shirt and a red and white polka dotted skirt. Since strawberries are Olivia's latest favorite food, the outfit was a good fit for her.

But since mastering this whole walking thing, getting a photo of Olivia has become quite the challenge.





I may need to invest in one of those high speed cameras for fast moving objects.

Or wait until Olivia can sit still before taking another photo of her.

Occupational Hazards

I thought after living in Japan for more than 2 years that I'd seen it all. I feel like I've read, seen, and learned all that there is to know about the differences between Japan and America. And then something happens that figuratively knocks me off my chair and literally leaves a strange taste in my mouth. It's then that I realize that after two years, I've only scratch the surface of understanding.

Today was going to be a good day. Today I had an appointment/interview to meet and eat at a new restaurant in Okinawa. I will be writing a restaurant review on this local place. It had the word Hawaiian in the restaurant's name, so I was excited about this food vacation (aka eating cuisine from an exotic location without the hassle of airport security).

We (photographer, Japanese saleswoman who is also my translator and I) arrive on time. It's 2:30 in the afternoon. The restaurant is closed, so there is only us, the owner and chef in the restaurant. The chef prepares 3 signature dishes (two appetizers and one entree). After a short translated interview and photographing the food, I dig in. I'm starving.

I grab a jumbo shrimp with my chopsticks without clearly looking at it. I pop it in my mouth. As I bite down, I hear the crunch. Horror. The shell is still on the shrimp. My first reaction? Get these shell parts out of my mouth. And without thinking, only reacting, I spit out the shrimp shell mush mixture onto my plate. In front of the chef. And the owner. While my Japanese co-worker happily chomps away.

I look down at my plate and realize this looks stupid. Not only did I eat the shrimp without looking at it, I spit out the shrimp delicately prepared for me, the writer. How does this look? But as I reason in my head, what was I suppose to do? Just swallow and smile?

That's when I look over at my co-worker's plate and I notice that she doesn't have any shell pieces on her plate.

At the same time, she looks at my plate and sees the shrimp shell mush blob. That's when she tells me that in Japan, it is customary to eat the shrimp in shell, and the tail too. It's good for you. High in calcium, she says.

She smiles at me and then turns to the chef and owner and talks to them in Japanese for quite a while. I'm sure she was apologizing for me and my actions.

Committed to my restaurant review, I looked at another piece of shrimp. This time I'll be prepared for the shell and savor the unique flavor, I tell myself. I aim to put it in my mouth. I set it down. I can't do it. I know it's mind over matter. But I can't do it. I'm an American. I've been trained to remove the shell before eating.

So I did the only thing that I thought would move the restaurant review forward: I asked for dessert.

The Fuji Tale: Part 1

Whose idea was it to climb Mount Fuji?

That question played over and over in my head during the 7 hours I spent hiking to the top of the highest point in Japan. And the only answer: me.

Flashback to a conversation prior to us moving to Okinawa. Scott Morey, a Navy friend of ours, first tells us about climbing Mount Fuji. Benny and I are receptive to the idea. At this point, I'm in the best shape of my life. I recently did a hard hike in Hawaii. I'm feeling great. I feel like I can climb anything. The seed is planted.

Move to Okinawa. More talk about climbing Fuji. Most of the men I meet tell me that "yes they want to climb it" or "yes, of course, they climbed it." Not one woman tells me she wants to climb it.

Then I get prego with Olivia. Without seeking medical advice, I decide it's not in my best interest to climb Mount Fuji during the summer of 2008.

Next summer, Olivia is 5 months old when Benny climbs Fuji with some CEC buds. He says I can do it next year (our last summer in Okinawa) with some friends. He says I should plan a girls trip to climb the mountain. Yeah, right I think to myself. There is no one who will do that with me.

Enter Tammy and Andrea. The unfortunate souls who volunteered to climb Mount Fuji with me. Way back in January when we started planning their Japanese vacation and finalizing the details of dates, hotel rooms, and plane tickets, I realized that we would be in Tokyo during the prime time to climb the mountain.

So I sent Andrea this email:

Andrea,
What do you think about coming in early August and we climb Mount Fuji together?
Michelle

Andrea's response

Oh my, this sounds adventurous, and scary, and hard, and quite possibly awesome! Do you think we can do it? What is it? Telegraph Pass (in Yuma) times 1,000? I mean, I can do it--right? Talk about a good reason to be in shape (I am totally needing motivation right now, but I will get it.) I am nervous and excited at the same time, so YES--I am totally interested. Holy shit. I can't stop smiling. But, I am totally scared. Can we talk about this in person? Awesome!

And after a phone call with Tammy to finalize the decision it was official-- I was climbing Mount Fuji.

No Longer a Baby

Olivia is no longer a baby. After today, the 17-month-old became a pre-toddler (and I have a feeling that pre-teen is right around the corner).

Olivia had her first day in the pre-toddler room today. Sure she is the last one of the "babies" to transfer there, so I'm sure she was glad to rejoin Joshua and Corey (her buds from the nursery.)

I wasn't sure how it would go. I was concerned that she would be jealous of the babies who replaced her in the other room. Or that she would want to go back to her crib for her nap. Or worst yet, not nap at all the entire day and be a crabby mess when I picked her up.

But I was wrong on all accounts.

When I arrive at 5 p.m., her new teacher reported that Olivia did great in her new room. She ate well and thought about using her fork and spoon. I guess she held one in one hand while eating with the other. She followed the other pre-toddlers' lead and slept on her mat with no problems. In fact, she slept for nearly 2 rooms. (That's a new Olivia nap record). And her report said that she had fun making shapes with the play dough, when she wasn't eating it.

And finally her teacher wrote: "Olivia is a very smart child. She understands concepts and I am sure she will begin to talk very soon."

After I grabbed Olivia, we walked by her old room. I noticed that Olivia's crib was no longer her crib. They had already taken down the sign with her name and picture. This is when I got a little sad. My baby is no longer a baby.

You want what for your birthday?

Olivia thought I'd be satisfied with a personally decorated birthday card, and normally I would be. But I wanted more than that for my birthday.

As I watched her prance in the pool in swimming lessons, the mischevious side of me came out. Three days in the pool and coming out of the pool each day with dry hair was too much. Her blond hair must get wet.

"Olivia, I don't know what you had planned for Dad's birthday, but his one birthday wish is to give you your first full body baptism in the pool." It'll come when you least expect it, otherwise you'll never let go of Mom.

I finally got my chance at the end of the swimming lesson today, as I had flashbacks of my Mom playing ring around the rosey with me at the Prior Lake High School pool. It seemed like we did it for hours, although it was probably only 15 minutes with my attention span.

Ring Around the rosey, pockets full of posey, ashes, ashes, we all blow bubbles! Rats. Not yet, you're lucky kiddo.

Ring Around the rosey, pockets full of posey, ashes, ashes, we all kick our feet! What? What happened to "we all fall down"?

Next verse, just like the first. Ring Around the rosey, pockets full of posey, ashes, ashes, we all FALL DOWN! (Dad is blowing bubbles, he missed his cue). But better late than never, Dad finally got his birthday wish. And there was no crying, just a reach out to Mom and a "what just happened" look.

Seeing things in a new light

We are over the hump. If everything goes as planned, we will leave Okinawa in less than a year. No, we don't have orders yet. No, we don't know where the Navy is sending us next. We just know that the plan is for us to move back to the States within the next year.

Living in Japan means constantly learning about a culture that is basically American culture flipped upside down. Everything is different, from the toilets to the food. And for that difference, I'm truly thankful for this opportunity. I got to live in a part of the world that I never studied or read about before moving here. And in the end, I've learned more about my beliefs, my values, and myself than I ever thought was possible. I was confident in myself when I fly to Tokyo for the first time. Today I'm still confident in myself. I just know I'm a new me.

While I'm comfortable with myself, within this country, I continue to feel like an outsider. That is until July 25, when I became a Tokyo tour guide to my friends, Tammy, Andrea and Nicole. Tammy and Andrea, former Yumans like myself, flew together from the States. Nicole is my co-worker here in Okinawa and this was her first girls trip and first trip in Tokyo.

The vacation was short. Two days of sightseeing. Two days to hike Mount Fuji. Four days with three amazing, open-minded, and physically strong women.

Their visit was an opportunity for me. I saw Japan through a fresh set of eyes. They pointed out things, I no longer noticed and forgot to be amused by. They laughed at things that I had begun to ignore. They showed me the beauty of Japan all over again. And they gave me the strength to finish this emotionally challenging overseas tour with a positive note.


In less than 11 months, I'll leave Okinawa. But I'll never forget Okinawa.

The hardest part

The hardest part about having visitors is saying goodbye. This morning in the wee hours while the rest of Okinawa was still asleep, Olivia and I dropped off Tammy and Andrea at the Okinawa Airport in Naha.

It felt really strange to not be the one packing a suitcase, mentally preparing to travel for 24 hours, and checking in for a flight. I could handle more of this hostess stuff.

Safe travels ladies. It was one helluva trip. And we'll always have Fuji.