the invasion of Japan
side note: I thank everyone for their email, but it's expensive to get online here and I hope that you will understand if I don't get back to you right away, while I am here.
Episode 2
she's tall in a small world.
The last day in Okinawa and I am trying to get all the rest of my sight seeing done before I have to fly to Nagasaki tomorrow afternoon. I still have no idea where my luggage is and the problem is only going to get worse when I leave for Nagasaki. I don't have any idea where I am staying there, so I have no forwarding address for them to send my bag to.
I walked out of the gate to see what the Okinawa nightlife has to offer me. I don't plan on drinking at this point in the trip, but I do want to take in some Karoke and whatever else I can find. The first thing I notice as I walk down "gate two road" is the familiar sound of Rush's "Tom Sawyer" being played live and loud. There is no way that Rush is in Okinawa or playing on the street, but it's enough of a fantasy to draw me in.
Getting to the source of the music is harder than I thought it would be as the streets are filled with hookers in five inch heels that can't stop reaching out for every male that walks past them. I seem to be an oddity amongst the rest of the 18 year old military personnel and that is making them reach out even more. When not fighting off offers for a "good time" I am having to bounce off different groups of military boys that are looking for someone to fight. Ironically, I am beginning to see now that the Americans are the ones that all look alike and its the locals that have the most diversity. Sadly, I know that I am going to be grouped in with these GI's in everything I do here, but I will try to keep my belching at bay tonight and perhaps I won't end up making matter worse.
The only group that seems okay with my presence here is the female enlisted personel that seem to remember a time when men had facial hair and... well, hair. Some seem pretty pleased, but they avoid talking to me too long and it's obvious that the reason for this is that they are going to take some heat from their friends and it's not worth it to them. It must be hard to be an 18 to 23 year old woman in this environment. You're hormones and sexual appetites are just as strong as any of the males here, but your options are pretty limited, as I have said before, there is no such thing as an Asian male fetish, so the girls here have three options, White boys, Black boys or the rare Latino. The female enlisted has very little to choose from and having to compete with women in five inch heels can't be helping. I will admit to enjoying the cattiness of the female GI's as they stare unapprovingly at the hookers. Apparently they forget that these women have to wear a uniform at their job too.
I finally get through the crowd to the source of the music. It's a parking lot with a local cover band doing their best with classic rock and 80's tunes. They are tearing the place apart and I am loving it. You really haven't lived until you've heard, "Hit me with your best shot" sung with a Japanese accent. I'm into the music for a good hour before I realize that I am the only American watching the show. I'm stunned by this at first, but then I remember that most of the military on the street wasn't even born when most of this music was popular or new. Besides, it means I can enjoy it without having to listen to them bullshit.
The other thing that I am slow to pick up on is the fact that the lead singer, a woman, is a towering, 6 feet plus. I think it would be a pretty accurate assessment to say that she was easily 6 foot 4. I wasn't in a position to see her feet and I assumed for the longest time that she was on a platform or wearing the five inch heels that are so popular around here. During a power ballad (open arms) the crowd, not into dancing together, sat down! And I was able to see that this woman was barefoot and every inch of that 6 foot 4. I was stunned. Again, I am feeling like shit for my generality about the locals' appearance and again, nature has proved me wrong.
The heighth of the locals has a lot to do with their calcium intake. If you have ever noticed, most Japanese have bowed legs and this is apparently due to calcium deficient diet in their youth and it affects their bone growth. This has gone on so long that is has affected their genetic code and made most of the Asian community shorter in stature. I think there is some truth to this but I also think that Europeans are just too tall. Apparently the mean height of humans on the planet is 5-4 (males) and 5 -1 (females). This makes the Asians closer to the normal height and makes most Caucasians giants.
I continue to enjoy the exception to the rule wail on for another half hour before I finally head off back down the street. I am enjoying the night a bit better and I am having a good time looking at all the knock off goods being sold in the clothing shops. I am not a big sports fan, but I know that the colors of the Dallas Cowboys are not red and yellow and that Joe Montana never played for them. I can't stop lusting over the watches being sold by street vendors and my only salvation is a tattoo parlor.
I am sitting in the tattoo parlor looking over their flash and trying to communicate that I want a ruler on my arm. This proves to be harder than trying to explain the concept of "reimbursement" to the airline. The Japanese use centimeters and I am looking for inches. The military uses centimeters so I am completely out of luck trying to get a ruler to show them. I settle on the lemniscate symbol on my wrist and it turns out to be the most painful tattoo I have ever received. I love the tattoo and I love the fact that I got in Japan, but damn! This one hurt.
As I am getting the tat, I see on the wall that there is a huge tug of war match tomorrow. This would normally not grab my attention, but the poster is a huge, glossy ad, much the same way you would see a movie poster. I don't know what the poster says but I can tell that "11-06" is tomorrow and I want to go. I am trying to get more information out of the tattoo artist and he struggles to explain to me that tug of war in Okinawa is a big, big deal. I ask if anyone can participate and gets super excited, turns and says something really loudly, which brings in two other artists. They start to point and discuss something (me and tug of war most likely) then one of them says, "7... morning... here" and I am on the team. I have been getting up at 6 every morning so I am not sweating the early hour.
I hang out on the street for a long time and I take in a few different bars, never staying in one too long but I do meet some interesting people. Then, like it was vampires noticing that the sun is coming up, all the GI's start running back to the base. I have to say, for a minute I thought missiles were in the air and that I was going to die in Okinawa, but then I remembered that there is a curfew for enlisted personnel. Suddenly, I am the only American in Okinawa. The worn out hookers are all "off" and are sitting with their shoes off, smoking and looking beat. The bar owners are done and every shop starts to close. I ask if there is somewhere else I can go and everyone keeps pointing down a dark alley and laughing.
I head down a dark alley in Okinawa at 1 in the morning.....
Episode 2
she's tall in a small world.
The last day in Okinawa and I am trying to get all the rest of my sight seeing done before I have to fly to Nagasaki tomorrow afternoon. I still have no idea where my luggage is and the problem is only going to get worse when I leave for Nagasaki. I don't have any idea where I am staying there, so I have no forwarding address for them to send my bag to.
I walked out of the gate to see what the Okinawa nightlife has to offer me. I don't plan on drinking at this point in the trip, but I do want to take in some Karoke and whatever else I can find. The first thing I notice as I walk down "gate two road" is the familiar sound of Rush's "Tom Sawyer" being played live and loud. There is no way that Rush is in Okinawa or playing on the street, but it's enough of a fantasy to draw me in.
Getting to the source of the music is harder than I thought it would be as the streets are filled with hookers in five inch heels that can't stop reaching out for every male that walks past them. I seem to be an oddity amongst the rest of the 18 year old military personnel and that is making them reach out even more. When not fighting off offers for a "good time" I am having to bounce off different groups of military boys that are looking for someone to fight. Ironically, I am beginning to see now that the Americans are the ones that all look alike and its the locals that have the most diversity. Sadly, I know that I am going to be grouped in with these GI's in everything I do here, but I will try to keep my belching at bay tonight and perhaps I won't end up making matter worse.
The only group that seems okay with my presence here is the female enlisted personel that seem to remember a time when men had facial hair and... well, hair. Some seem pretty pleased, but they avoid talking to me too long and it's obvious that the reason for this is that they are going to take some heat from their friends and it's not worth it to them. It must be hard to be an 18 to 23 year old woman in this environment. You're hormones and sexual appetites are just as strong as any of the males here, but your options are pretty limited, as I have said before, there is no such thing as an Asian male fetish, so the girls here have three options, White boys, Black boys or the rare Latino. The female enlisted has very little to choose from and having to compete with women in five inch heels can't be helping. I will admit to enjoying the cattiness of the female GI's as they stare unapprovingly at the hookers. Apparently they forget that these women have to wear a uniform at their job too.
I finally get through the crowd to the source of the music. It's a parking lot with a local cover band doing their best with classic rock and 80's tunes. They are tearing the place apart and I am loving it. You really haven't lived until you've heard, "Hit me with your best shot" sung with a Japanese accent. I'm into the music for a good hour before I realize that I am the only American watching the show. I'm stunned by this at first, but then I remember that most of the military on the street wasn't even born when most of this music was popular or new. Besides, it means I can enjoy it without having to listen to them bullshit.
The other thing that I am slow to pick up on is the fact that the lead singer, a woman, is a towering, 6 feet plus. I think it would be a pretty accurate assessment to say that she was easily 6 foot 4. I wasn't in a position to see her feet and I assumed for the longest time that she was on a platform or wearing the five inch heels that are so popular around here. During a power ballad (open arms) the crowd, not into dancing together, sat down! And I was able to see that this woman was barefoot and every inch of that 6 foot 4. I was stunned. Again, I am feeling like shit for my generality about the locals' appearance and again, nature has proved me wrong.
The heighth of the locals has a lot to do with their calcium intake. If you have ever noticed, most Japanese have bowed legs and this is apparently due to calcium deficient diet in their youth and it affects their bone growth. This has gone on so long that is has affected their genetic code and made most of the Asian community shorter in stature. I think there is some truth to this but I also think that Europeans are just too tall. Apparently the mean height of humans on the planet is 5-4 (males) and 5 -1 (females). This makes the Asians closer to the normal height and makes most Caucasians giants.
I continue to enjoy the exception to the rule wail on for another half hour before I finally head off back down the street. I am enjoying the night a bit better and I am having a good time looking at all the knock off goods being sold in the clothing shops. I am not a big sports fan, but I know that the colors of the Dallas Cowboys are not red and yellow and that Joe Montana never played for them. I can't stop lusting over the watches being sold by street vendors and my only salvation is a tattoo parlor.
I am sitting in the tattoo parlor looking over their flash and trying to communicate that I want a ruler on my arm. This proves to be harder than trying to explain the concept of "reimbursement" to the airline. The Japanese use centimeters and I am looking for inches. The military uses centimeters so I am completely out of luck trying to get a ruler to show them. I settle on the lemniscate symbol on my wrist and it turns out to be the most painful tattoo I have ever received. I love the tattoo and I love the fact that I got in Japan, but damn! This one hurt.
As I am getting the tat, I see on the wall that there is a huge tug of war match tomorrow. This would normally not grab my attention, but the poster is a huge, glossy ad, much the same way you would see a movie poster. I don't know what the poster says but I can tell that "11-06" is tomorrow and I want to go. I am trying to get more information out of the tattoo artist and he struggles to explain to me that tug of war in Okinawa is a big, big deal. I ask if anyone can participate and gets super excited, turns and says something really loudly, which brings in two other artists. They start to point and discuss something (me and tug of war most likely) then one of them says, "7... morning... here" and I am on the team. I have been getting up at 6 every morning so I am not sweating the early hour.
I hang out on the street for a long time and I take in a few different bars, never staying in one too long but I do meet some interesting people. Then, like it was vampires noticing that the sun is coming up, all the GI's start running back to the base. I have to say, for a minute I thought missiles were in the air and that I was going to die in Okinawa, but then I remembered that there is a curfew for enlisted personnel. Suddenly, I am the only American in Okinawa. The worn out hookers are all "off" and are sitting with their shoes off, smoking and looking beat. The bar owners are done and every shop starts to close. I ask if there is somewhere else I can go and everyone keeps pointing down a dark alley and laughing.
I head down a dark alley in Okinawa at 1 in the morning.....
posted by Daniel Loomis | 5:04 PM
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