JAWing On – Life on Okinawa

One of my favorite times of the year is Okinawa in the middle of the night during summer. We are lucky enough to live on a hill with a decent view of the ocean from our balcony. In the middle of the night, at about 2 or 3 in the morning, there is usually a light breeze blowing away the heaviness of the humidity. A few cars are still rushing by the house, but not so many that the smell of gas fumes becomes obnoxious (which happens in the daytime). Every once in a while a fruit bat glides past a nearby tree. The lights from across the bay gleam and the stars in the sky twinkle. It is a very peaceful, but not dead quiet, time when a person can sit and let all of their thoughts just wander undisturbed. This is the time of year that Okinawan island life is at its best.

Why do some people insist on using the phrases “I didn’t know” and “I’m sorry” as a passport to get out of jail free. Every week I deal with adults who perform behaviors at the club that a ten year old knows is inappropriate. Such as spitting on the floor, doing back flips or karate kicks, running at full speed in the club, jumping on couches, trying to sing in the microphone (It is not a karaoke bar!), jumping on stage and trying to play the band equipment at break time without asking the owner of the equipment, standing on the bar stools and tables, etc. etc …
When told to refrain from these behaviors I inevitably get “I didn’t know” or “I’m sorry” as a response. Well “I’m sorry” but people know better than to behave in such manners by the time they’re adults and catch phrases are not acceptable excuses for rude and outrageous behavior. If you are going to have to say you’re sorry for something than you know better than to do it in the first place!

One thing that most locals take very seriously is the recycling of trash. Paper products, such as magazines, cardboard, and magazines are separated and collected once every two weeks. Recyclable plastic is picked-upon another day, by another company, once every two weeks. Cans and bottles, which must be separated from each other and well-rinsed, are gathered by yet another company again once every two weeks. Metal products are separated from everything else and collected by still another company on still another day once every two weeks. And finally, there is the “regular” flammable trash, which must be placed in a specific trash bag supplied by the city government and purchased at local supermarkets, picked-up twice a week. There are no exceptions to these rules, place the wrong item on the wrong week and it will sit there until the next collection day. The trash collectors take this system very seriously. Once we had a B-B-Q party and three bottles accidentally ended-up in the middle of loads of paper plates, cups, and napkins in the regular trash. We had no idea the bottles were there. One afternoon following trash collection, someone came knocking on my door. I opened the door only to find two men standing on the front porch with a torn-open bag of trash. One man grabbed a piece of trash from the bag that had my name and address on it and stated, “This is your trash isn’t it!” I confirmed that it was. At which point the other man grabbed the three bottles from the bag, while frowning and shaking his head. The two of them then proceeded with a twenty minute lecture, along with a chart, on the proper manner of trash disposal on Okinawa. I think this may have been this best example of the over-exaggeration of many situations that is so common on Okinawa. But I also must admit that it worked to a point in that we have never made the mistake of mixing our trash products again. I really don’t want to have to spend twenty more minutes getting lectured by the Okinawan trash police!

It’s July on Okinawa, which means it’s Summer Cold time! The humidity reaches such a high level that you literally need baby powder just to keep your clothes from sticking to you. Anyone from the Carolinas would feel perfectly at home here. In order to beat the heat/humidity combo, air conditioners are going at full capacity. Running in and out of the overly-temperate air conditioned buildings and contrasting that with the 90 plus heat always leads to the summer cold. Usually, I’m lucky enough to beat that dreaded illness until late in the season. But not this year, I got wiped out first round and have been spending the last few days putting lots of pocket money in the tissue companies’ owners’ pockets. The only thing good about it is that I know I won’t have to worry about catching it next month, when the heat/humidity reaches close to 100 degrees. So for now, I’ll keep my handy tissue box and trash can close at hand.

Recently, Taki and I had the pleasure of hearing a visiting band from Guam, the D.U.B. Da Udda Band. It seems the tropical cyclone system had rained-out the 4th of July celebration on-base, so they went looking for a local spot to perform at for the night. Since the 4th was on a Sunday this year, most of the Koza bars were closed. But luckily for us 7th Heaven was open. So we went there for the usual Peaceful Love Rock Festival 2004 after-concert party. To our surprise, there the band was! Kadena’s loss was our gain. They have a unique reggae-comedy style that is chocked full of humor about living on a small island, among many other topics. For us this was a great treat, because we had lived in Guam in the mid-seventies. Taki was so impressed with the music that he quickly scored one of their CDs, “A Day in The Life.” If you ever get chance check this band out! They were heading for Las Vegas the last we heard.

Question: How do you know you’ve probably lived somewhere a little too long?
Answer: You were there before McDonald’s!!!

It’s true; I was on Okinawa before McDonald’s, literally. I remember the first McD to hit island. It was in 1975 and located in Makimimato, or as it was known at that time Machinato. Back then, Okinawa was mainly a staging area for Vietnam and there weren’t that many dependents. However, both my father and uncle, along with his family, were stationed here. The yen rate was 365 to the dollar, most bases had limited recreational facilities, and the majority of people went off base for entertainment. There were no fast food chains on base, at that time. So when McDonald’s came to the island, all of us (father, uncle and families) headed for the Golden Arches. The parking lot was a sea of Americans. There was a half-hour wait, at the very least, just to get in the doors. Everyone wanted to get a little taste of home!!!

Why do some people think that grabbing or popping someone is going to increase the attacked person’s hearing capabilities? There are many situations where the noise level is so high that it is almost impossible to hear what a person who speaks softly or unclearly is saying. For a culture that is not suppose to be physical in their public communications, there are a large number of people who think grabbing the listener is going to help. For me, being popped or grabbed is a distraction from what is being said, because being physically assaulted draws my attention away from the speaker’s statement!

ShimaNaicha is a term used for mainland Japanese residents who decide to make Okinawa their permanent home, and is usually automatically declared when they change residence to the island. (It literally translates to island Japanese, but means transplanted Okinawan.) This is only one of many terms used in the local language to categorize people. Most Westerners romanticize the “noble reference” of the linguistic structure, declaring it as one of respect. However, it is mainly used to indicate what social position a person holds, having more to do with money and image (which equates to power over here because of the marketability) than age or accomplishment. This class system stems from a time when Okinawa was the Ryukyu Kingdom. In this system Westerners are merely declared as Gaijin (foreigners). After the Westerner has lived on island for a time and begins to go through the “islander” phase (a phase indicated by the person automatically responding to social settings in much the same manner as the locals) they are declared a HennaGaijin (strange foreigner). I have never heard any other phrase used in reference to a Westerner who has lived on island, even if it has been for an extended period of time. It is always the HennaGaijin term used by the locals to maintain a social class indication of how the person should be treated. Recently, I jokingly decided to declare myself, and a few other American women that have resided on Okinawa for more than 20 years, ShimaGaijin. Although the locals might not get the joke, most of the other resident Westerners do, and get a good chuckle at the inference.

If there is one thing Okinawans like more than eating and drinking, it’s the fine art of conversation. Most visitors to Okinawa never have the chance to experience the Ryukyuan tradition of story telling. The majority of people are whisked-off here and there as predetermined by the numerous packaged tours. These people are really missing out, because the art of conversation is not lost on Okinawans. Whether the tale is about great adventures, designed to instill a sense of awe towards the story teller; or sagas of great woes and misfortunes, designed to arouse cries of sympathy from the listener; or humorous anecdotes about a the mishaps of a fellow resident, designed to bring out choruses of laughter (usually followed with a shake of the head and some snide remark on the ignorance of the unfortunate resident, which, to me, dampens the pleasure of the anecdote) locals are masters at evoking emotions through their story telling. So if you get a chance, go off the beaten path and enter one the Mom and Pop type of drinking establishments – not the local hostess bars (the average man’s equivalent of a Geisha house). Order a drink and try breaking the ice by saying”Chaaganjuu, how are you?” (which will probably bring about a great amount of finger pointing and laughter). With some luck you’ll be able to spend time talking with and listening to these ever-vocal story tellers.