Tokyo Tower and Zojo-ji

The lovely New Sanno Hotel's lobby, at approximately 4:30 AM local time.

Gabe is now sleeping about six hours a night, which is fantastic. The only downside is he starts sleeping at around 10 PM. You do the math, it’s not always pretty. We usually go for a walk when he wakes up. So we trotted around the hotel and did a few loads of laundry in the coin-operated machines all before 6 AM.

When Dean finally joined the land of the living at around 8 AM (that’s sleeping in!), we went and got some breakfast. We had eggs (tamago) and for the first time in my egg-eating life, I was asked how I would like my omelet cooked. Like you would order a steak, I guess. Our server spoke good English so I just said “whatever the chef recommends” which is the answer I use during restaurant week in N.Y. when I am asked how I want my ostrich or my frog cooked and I really have no idea. Again, that little line worked like a charm and my omelet came out with the consistency…oh, c’mon, of an omelet! I just don’t think that question is necessary with eggs. But it was a very good omelet.

Since it was already getting hot, we dressed Gabe in a long-sleeved, footie onesie and a hat so his lily-white complexion would be shielded from the land of the burning sun. I popped him in his baby backpack and off we set. Apparently many Tokyoites hide from the taiyo (sun) as well. During our walk, we saw many women carrying parasols (some even while expertly navigating bikes), long arm gloves, and wide-brimmed hats.

We located our subway station, Hiro-o, without much ado. The ticket machines had an option for “English,” so we were able to figure out how to buy tickets to Akabanebashi—the stop for Tokyo Tower. We paid our yen, 270 each, and set off feeling very impressed with ourselves for the ease with which we’d acquired tickets. By the way, that last sentence is what we call foreshadowing, people.


If only Waldo had Dean's coloring, he'd be much easier to spot...

I think rush hour was just ending when we were starting off. Some parts of the platform were designated with a pink box—only women could stand there to ride in certain cars. I thought it probably had to do with—for lack of a nicer way of saying it--combatting young ladies getting felt up by businessmen on the crowded subways. The cars were awfully crammed but no one had to shove us in and everyone gave the baby and me as much space as possible. Dean and I held onto little plastic stirrup handles while standing in the air conditioned car. We had to transfer lines in Roppongi and so we went with the plan we usually do when traveling in a country where we can’t speak the language. We followed the crowd like we were right in the middle of the herd of cattle.

As we saw everyone inserting their tickets into the machine, we did the same. Then we followed the signs to the next line we needed—Oedo line. Except when we finally got there, there were more machines and people were inserting more tickets. Oh no! We had already given up our tickets! (Foreshadowing payoff!) Positive we had paid for the transfer, I braved approaching a subway guard-person at the counter. Wearing a face mask and standing proudly in his immaculate uniform, the guard explained to me in English that was much better than my Japanese that only part of the subway was government-owned, where the other part was privately owned. When traveling between private and government parts, you needed to turn in your ticket to get it changed. At the time, I am sure I looked as confused as only a gaijin can—so he made a motion to follow him and then marched Dean, the baby, and me up two sets of escalators and led us to a desk where he explained in rapid-fire Japanese to another uniformed person exactly what us silly Americans had done. We bowed in thanks, he bowed, so we bowed again, and he went back down. Now the next person established which machine we had gone through and opened it to get us back out our tickets. He showed us how to swap it for a government-subway ticket. He bowed, we bowed, he bowed and then we tore ourselves away from the bowing exchange, marveling our entire way back down how nice everyone had been to us.



We got off at Akabanebashi and the first thing we saw was a gas station. The pumps were not anchored into the ground, but rather were hanging suspended from the ceiling of the open structure. Gas nozzles hung from the air on tubes like…really ugly earrings. Men in flight-suit looking outfits swarmed around, pumping gas for any car that drove up. What really got our attention was a big banner of Leonardo DiCaprio, recommending Bridgestone tires with smoldering eyes. Apparently Hollywood stars can make a killing over here promoting consumer products they wouldn’t dream of associating themselves with in the U.S.



We continued on our way and soon came upon the orange and white Tokyo Tower. At 333 meters, it is 13 meters higher than the Eiffel Tower. I remarked it looked exactly like the Eiffel Tower about the same time Dean said it looked nothing like the Eiffel Tower. Neither of us is probably correct. Like many things in Japan, the Tokyo Tower has cute cartoon characters associated with it but we did not go up the tower and thus we did not see the Noppon brothers. Dean has his own opinions about what these mascots resemble, but I’ll let you make up your own opinion:



We continued on our way to look for Zojo-ji. I broke out some more of my crappy Japanese to ask a long-stick carrying policeman, “Zojo-ji doko desu ka?” and was rewarded with a grand sweep of an open palm to my right. I think the stick is called a jo, and is used as a weapon, and I think he gestured with an open palm because I have been told that pointing is rude. Regardless, he didn’t use the jo on us and he gestured us in the correct direction so we found Zojo-ji easily.




This Buddhist temple has been around in some form for a hella long time. We’re talking about being founded in a triple-digit year. It was moved to its present location in 1590 and needed some work after the second World War. The outside is impressive, but the inside is really freakin impressive. Ginormous gold chandelier-looking things hang from the ceiling and in the center sits a Buddha—I think Amida Buddha. We hung back and watched someone throw money into the saisenbako, which is a big wooden temple-bank we learned about last new year’s. Then they sprinkled some incense into a metal pot with hot embers in it and prayed with head bowed while standing. As you all know, my motto has always been “monkey see, monkey do,” so Gabe and I went up and took our turn.



Around the outside of the building are these statues called jizo. Ojizo-sama is a Japanese deity who protects children firstly, but also travelers and firemen. These jizo had child-like features and sported knitted red bonnets and held pinwheels that whirled in the breeze.



On our way out, we went through the Sangedatsu Gate, which my travel book says is the oldest wooden structure in Tokyo. The three (san) levels are representative of the three levels needed to achieve nirvana, and it is said if you pass through the gate, you can free yourself of three things: ton, shin, and chi (greed, hate, and foolishness, respectively).

We transferred our tickets on the way back like subway-riding pros and spent the rest of the evening sleeping through our dinner reservations due to jet lag. So I do not think the Sangedatsu Gate worked because that was some foolishness.

Tokyo with a Baby

Yesterday we flew from Seattle to Narita with a four month old. We drove from Portland to Seattle in the morning and arrived at Sea-Tac around lunch time. Luckily we got there early enough to score an air-bassinet, which are first-come, first-served. They just attached the little crib to the wall of the bulkhead. It worked out wonderfully. The ten hour flight plus two hours’ worth of boarding, taxiing, and de-planing (Delta assures me this is a word) were brutal even for road warriors like us. By the end of it, I am pretty sure the baby was the most civil among us.

Throughout the course of the plane ride, I was studying my Tokyo travel guide to plan fun yet informative sightseeing days. I also discovered that taxis are prohibitively expensive for any distance, and of course the hotel happened to be quite a distance from Narita Airport. When we landed, I used my Japanese mobile to call the New Sanno Hotel. They told me a cab ride would cost between 25,000 and 30,000 yen (~$300 US) depending on traffic. So we started looking for a plan B.

The “Airport Limousine” counter was very helpful. They took pity on me and my bad Japanese and put us and all our 200 pounds of baggage on the #4 bus for a mere 6,000 yen. For almost two hours, we sat on the air conditioned (thank God) bus and rode through Tokyo traffic. About one hour into the ride, we realized we had not picked up the baby’s car seat base from the baggage claim area and that I’d left my iTouch on the plane. Since we had gone completely brain dead by that point, we really didn’t even get upset.

We finally got to the hotel and checked in with our military IDs. It is like being on an American base, except for everything is very nicely appointed. The bellhop brought all the bags up to the room and while tipping isn’t usually done in Japan, it is an American hotel and so we did. He accepted it, so we figured we made the right decision. We went down to a little restaurant right inside the hotel and had a light, late dinner. While the staff spoke very passable English, you were still very aware that you were in Japan because the service was fantastic.

We conked out in the small but comfy room early in anticipation of a full day ahead of us.

A Few More Book Reviews

People of the Book
by Geraldine Brooks

4 of 5 stars

Was kind of like the Da Vinci Code, only not. The book tells the story of a rare book expert examining the Sarajevo Haggadah, cutting away to excerpts of the book’s (largely made up) history. The cut-aways are actually more interesting than the main story line. After sobbing uncontrollably through Schindler’s List, I don’t usually go in for anything related to the persecution of Jews, but the author told the story with just enough terrible detail—not too much.

Recommendation: Read at your local coffee shop or Barnes & Noble—people will think you are totes intellectual.

Mr. Monk and the Dirty Cop
by Lee Goldberg

4 of 5 stars

Read a whole lot better than most books-based-on-media. Plus I love the Monk TV series, so it was a win-win for me. Cute and a quick page turner.

Recommendation: A book both you and your Murder She Wrote loving gramma can read and then discuss.

Book Reviews for January 2010

Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
by Gregory Maguire

3 of 5 stars

Might be the rare case where I like the theatrical performance better than the book. It was a bit long and tended to drag at parts. But a good story, and imaginative.

Recommendation: A good vacation read, because you won’t have a problem putting it down.

Cage of Stars
by Jacquelyn Mitchard

4 of 5 stars

Surprised that I liked this book as much as I did! Heavy subject material, with a young Mormon girl witnessing the brutal murder of her two sisters. But the author handled it well, and the book was suspenseful and well-written.

Recommendation: Read in the afternoon on the couch. No tissues necessary, but you might want a hug after.

Glenn Beck's Common Sense: The Case Against an Out-of-Control Government, Inspired by Thomas Paine
by Glenn Beck

1 of 5 stars

First off, let me say I did not buy this book. My grandma bought it for me, I think as a joke. And I also have to admit I did not finish reading this. I got thoroughly fed up with Beck’s anti-intellectualism and far-fetched conspiracy theories. And where does this guy get off comparing himself to Thomas Paine? It thoroughly scares me that people are reading the uninformed ranting of this madman and giving it any sort of credence.

Recommendation: I would say burn it, but Beck would still get a royalty. So I say return it and get the money back.

Habu Sake, Eggs, and Mochi

I bet the Okinawans would scoff at the Mexican tradition of putting a worm in the bottom of tequila. They add venomous snakes to their alcohol. This is a bottle of habu sake, habu being the poisonous snake, sake being rice wine. However, most of the habu sakes are actually just called sake and are not sake at all, but awamori, also a liquor distilled with rice but stronger. Supposedly the alcohol nullifies the venom in the drink and not only is it then safe for human consumption, but is also beneficial to your health. Habu sake is said to cure all sorts of things like arthritis and insomnia. There is also a rumor that it acts like Japanese Viagra. So I guess you'd be served habu sake if you asked for a stiff drink. Har har.




I might be a little too amused with the packaging I see over here, but you have to admit this is a better way of packing eggs. Who among us has not opened up that egg carton made of...what ARE egg cartons made of? Some kind of cardboard pulp? Anyway, and run your hand over each egg to make sure there are no cracks in them? What a waste of 15 seconds in the grocery store. This clear plastic egg carton makes it super easy to see if there is anything wrong with your prospective purchase, and I daresay the little air pockets built into either side of the egg helps reduce breakage even better. Kudos, Japanese. You have bested us in packaging yet again.



This is a Kagami Mochi, a New Year's decoration. The white is mochi, made of--you guessed it--rice. I bet they could make nuclear arms out of rice if they put their minds to it. I never thought of rice as particularly diverse material until I got over here. The orange is a daidai, which looks a lot like a little tangerine to me. Supposedly this pretty piece is edible. You break (not cut) it sometime after the new year and chow down. From my questions, I got the impression that the kagami mochi represents the continuation of a family for generations. In addition to seeing them at New Year's time, I think they can be given as gifts at weddings. This one I would not quote me on, however, as I deciphered this information through pictures on an advertisement.

I Got a Lot of Joy from Salad Dressing Today

C'mon, isn't that much better than those "tear here" pouches they give us in the states, where you have to use your teeth to open the darn thing and then lick the excess oozing goo off your clothing/fingers?

Also, you might be thinking, I wonder why she chose that song? The answer? It was the only one I could find on the old PC I was currently on. Besides, you know it's awesome.

Akemashite Omedetou Gozaimas!

I’ll just be honest, Dean and I did not stay up late enough to ring in the New Year properly on December 31st. I had worked a full day and was dead tired, and Dean told his friends he wasn’t going to let his pregnant wife stay home alone on New Year’s. He really likes using the pregnancy as an excuse to get out of things he doesn’t feel like doing—not only does he get a free pass, but people also think he is a nice guy for taking such good care of me. Now I’m not saying he doesn’t actually take good care of me, but the truth is, he was too tired to go out himself. We both threw in the towel around 11 PM, had our New Year’s kiss, and went to sleep.



In the morning we decided to partake in the Okinawan tradition of Hatsumode, where you visit a Buddhist temple or shrine on the first of the year (or shortly thereafter). We chose to go to Kin Kannonji, a rather small temple that is close to our home here. Like always, we set about with a general idea of where to go, but with no map, directions, or road names—all of which are considered silly and unnecessary in these parts. We knew we were getting close when one side of the road was closed due to cars being parked in the middle of the lane. People don’t think twice about leaving their cars half in the street here because there really are no road shoulders to speak of. So we made like the locals and pulled our little minivan into the long line of road hazards and started walking in the direction of the other people.



The street had a festival-like atmosphere with street food and carnival games for the kiddies. As we closed in on the temple, Dean got nervous that we weren’t allowed to go there since we were the only Americans in the crowd. We decided to go anyway and be respectful. For Dean’s part, he made a conscious effort not to curse while in sight of the temple. People seemed to be lining up in front of the temple, so we took a place in line and kept our eyes peeled as to what we should do when we got to the front. There was a large wooden bank and we figured out you were supposed to say a prayer and then throw coins into the bank. If you had kids, the kids got to do the throwing and the parents did the praying. Dean and I got to the front, bowed our heads (I said a quick prayer for Baby Ellis), and tossed our coins for good luck. The inside of the temple was beautiful, with lots of little gold statues and monks dressed in orange robes, who may or may not have been there so none of those pretty gold pieces went missing, who knows? You could buy a little paper fortune up front—omikuji—that is like a detailed fortune cookie scroll that tells you predictions for your next year. Some were even in badly translated English so we could read them!



We got out of the line, very pleased with ourselves for not causing an international incident and looked around some more. There were shrines of different kami—which I think are Buddhist “gods”—where people left offerings of coins, candies, and oranges. We saw a lot of people tying their omikuji to tree branches and fences. You tie it up so that good fortune will come true and bad fortune will be averted. Check out this awesome one I got:



One thing I have to say I appreciate about Japan is that it never ever seems inappropriate to take a picture! I felt free to pull out my camera and start clicking because I saw lots of other families doing it. I really enjoy this aspect of the culture.

It turned out to be a nice day and a fun learning experience. Plus I can never get too many blessings for Baby Ellis! Here’s hoping 2010 will be the best year yet.

Christmas Eve with the Guys

Several members of the 12th Marines sporting ties during their "classy-themed" holiday get-together.

Christmas Eve! This is my first Christmas that I wasn’t able to make it home to be with my fam, so I spent most of the morning on the phone with my mom saying, “And what’s happening now? What about now? Now?” just to feel like I was part of the action. It was hard to stay blue for long though. It was such a beautiful, warm day in Ginoza, I opened the sliding glass doors to the patio and let the ocean breeze cool down the house.

Dean had invited his shop over for dinner, but there wasn’t too much to be done since I (like a GENIUS) had prepared a few homemade five-cheese lasagnas the day before and had them in the fridge, ready to be popped into the oven. And due to my diligent swatting away of Dean all week, I had (almost) a full spread of baked goods, give or take a few cookies and brownies. I took my time squeezing into a cute maternity outfit TC sent to me and set out the appetizers. Normally, that would have been my cue to uncork a nice bottle of red and put up my feet to wait for the guests to arrive but several pesky doctors (yes, I did get a second opinion) have told me drinking liquor in my current condition is not “ideal.”

The guys started arriving around 3 PM and my jaw just about hit the floor. They had all dressed up in various suit-like outfits. They looked as cute as human killing machines possibly could in their ill-fitting Sunday best. Throughout the day, they reminded each other to be “refined” and told me my lasagna was “simply delightful.” We ate, we drank, we listened to merry Christmas music. The guys very thoughtfully took all the leftovers off my hands in doggy bags to make clean up easier. It was a lovely Christmas Eve, and Dean and I were tucked into our bed dreaming of sugar plums by 11 PM.

I get it, people! I'm big!

I have been noticing that a lot of what I am writing is about my experiences being much larger than the people in this culture. My sister assures me that my continued embarrassments in this area are hilarious, and she never tires of hearing them. So here are a few more things that have happened recently in one little segment:

-While at the jewelry store picking out some Christmas presents, the shopkeeper was trying to get me to purchase a necklace for myself as well. I told her no, just presents for other people today.

She shrugged and said brightly, "Well you will have a baby for Christmas!"

To which I said, "Ah, actually I am due in April."

“April?” she looked confused for a moment but then the light dawned. “Oh, twins,” she nodded knowingly.

At that point I didn’t have the heart to tell her it was just one baby.

-Every time I go to the commissary on base, I help no less than two Japanese wives retrieve items from the top shelf.

-Lannetta and I went shopping out in town and actually found some shoes that fit us! I only wish the tag did not have an English translation under the Japanese—“Queen Size.”

4th Annual Chris-Dean Holiday Newsletter (2009)

View from the deck, looking out onto the Pacific Ocean.

Tidings of the season, dear family and friends!

In our ever-present, ongoing attempt to bring you interesting tidbits at the holidays, Dean and I have been keeping very busy this year past.

Early in 2009, Dean and I chose to accept military orders to change our duty station to Okinawa, Japan. I resigned from my position at Sony and we spent the majority of May at going-away parties, which was wonderful, as we said farewell to good friends we had made while we were in San Diego. Aunt Kathy even made it to one of the raring shindigs in the trendy Gaslamp District (though she claimed her primary reason for the San Diego visit was a “business trip”). I also graduated law school in May. Dean sat through the whole, long graduation ceremony and cheered, I think because now for the first time in our marriage, someone will be home to cook him dinner instead of being in class all night.

In June, Dean and I (meaning the movers) packed up our apartment and waved good-bye to SoCal. It was a wonderful place to be stationed, and we'll always look back at the wild fires, terrible traffic, and high property crime rates fondly.

Instead of reporting to Japan immediately, we gave ourselves a few months to do a bit of jet-setting. We took a fantastic European vacation that included time in Barcelona and a cruise through the Western Mediterranean that stopped in Malta, several cities in Italy, and the French Riviera. Then we flew up to Paris for a week where we had nowhere near as eventful a time as we hear the Beauchemins did.

From Paris we flew back to NY just in time for me to don my bright orange bridesmaid dress and see TC marry Mr. James Manuel. The wedding was breathtakingly beautiful and it was fantastic to see so much of the family before we left for Japan, including the newest member, Alexander Jacob. I made a quick trip up to Toronto to see Shilo, and came back to NY after an action-packed long weekend that included a road trip to Montreal. Dean and I stayed in NY through the 4th of July, showing captive audiences thousands of pictures of the Europe trip and otherwise just enjoying Peach Lake.

After seeing all of my family, we flew over to the Northwest to visit with Dean's brothers. Larry and Rachel had recently welcomed their second son into their brood, naming him Jacob Alexander. So I got to hold not one, but TWO babies within a few weeks! We saw everyone we could in the short time we had, spending a wonderful afternoon on Dean's Mama Ricky's porch eating barbecue overlooking the beautiful Columbia River Gorge. The Ellis boys said their farewells, as they do, over tequila, and we were off again.

By the middle of July, we finally boarded a plane in Seattle that took us to Okinawa. Unfortunately our time line was such that we just missed overlapping Aunt Di and Uncle Jeff's stay there. But they very generously left us their car and a phone, so we were set up well ahead of most the families with whom we arrived. Dean and I found an apartment off base so nice that it's like being on vacation every day. It is a two-story penthouse right off the ocean with a spiral staircase and a Jacuzzi. All the controls for the major appliances were modeled off the Jetsons, and we've almost figured out how to work all of them. We didn't believe our good luck in scoring this place until the ink had dried on the lease.

As far as jobs, Dean began work as the S-1 Chief for an Artillery Battery. I took a job with the Department of Defense as a Management Technician. Within a month, I was promoted to Management Analyst, so I am moving right along! I got a nice office with a door and a window, but I don't have my own parking spot like Dean does, so there is still room for growth.

We've done a little sightseeing in Okinawa, seeing a whale shark at the Churaumi Aquarium, a pineapple farm on the north of the island, and the crowded fish markets down in Naha. The weather was brutal when we got here in the summer, but it has cooled down to a breezy 80 degrees by mid-November.

The most important news since we've been out here is that Dean and I learned we are expecting our first child! The baby is due at the beginning of April. Through the miracle of modern science, we are pretty sure the baby will be a boy. We are still kicking around names. Suggestions are welcome! We are just thrilled and things seem to be progressing on schedule. Dean also seems to be surviving the pregnancy very well. Even so, we welcome all prayers and positive thoughts you direct our way!

For the first time ever for me, I will not make it home to NY for the holidays but Dean and I will probably host a nice party for people out here in the same situation. Try not to feel too bad for us as we will be relaxing on our private rooftop deck overlooking the ocean, enjoying good food and rather mild weather.

We miss you all and hope your holidays are wonderful and full of joy. For any particularly eventful revelry occurrences, please feel free to give us a call on our U.S. VOIP line.

Love and peace the whole year through,

Christine, Dean, and New Baby Ellis

New address:

PSC 567 Box 6601

FPO AP 96384-6601

(Yeah, I posted it. I'll take any mail, including junk mail!)

Date Night Shenanigans

So when you sing "Silent Night"...that's kind of an oxymoron, I think.


Friday night Dean was coerced into taking me to a Christmas Concert at the Camp Hansen Theatre. The III Marine Expeditionary Force Band plays for dignitaries along the Pacific Rim and they were somehow roped into giving a show for us peons, so of course I wanted to take advantage. I dressed up with my very nicest maternity clothes and a knock-off Hermes scarf, Dean kept on his week-old jeans, and off we headed. It was a lovely evening and the band played very, very well. The Glen Miller jazzy arrangement of Jingle Bells turned out to be my favorite piece of the evening. It inspired me and I told Dean I wanted a guitar for my Christmas present. Dean brought up the fact that I insisted on moving a rather large keyboard with me from NJ to San Diego because I was going to learn to play that, too. As if the two are even remotely related.

After the show, we went out in Ginoza for dinner. Ginoza, which is the small village we live in, is just far enough away from base where your chances of running into English-speaking people become a lot lower. But we’d been to the Italian/Japanese restaurant before and had a fair amount of luck last time in ending up with tasty food, so we decided to go back. Plus I have been taking my Rosetta stone courses, so I thought it would be a good opportunity to trot out a little of my newly-mastered Japanese.

I ordered our drinks in Japanese, no problem. But then there was the issue of the food. The menu was a mix of kanji, hiragana, and katakana. Generally, I can only sound out katakana, and even then it’s hit or miss. I kept picking up the word “tomato,” but in Italian cuisine that is pretty much a given. So, we eeny-meeny-miney-moed and chose an appetizer and two entrées. Somehow, though we are absolutely sure we pointed to completely different menu items, we ended up with the exact same dishes as we had last time we went. The first course was a Caesar salad with prosciutto, just like last time. Then Dean, again, had a pasta dish with more fresh shellfish than pasta on it, and I had pasta with crab in a tomato cream sauce that was, again, served with the empty crab shell perched on top, waving a little claw at me. (Gotta love dead animal carcass humor.) Fortunately, the dishes were just as oishii (delicious) and so the excursion was a definitive success. Still, I am looking forward to next time to see if it happens AGAIN! Maybe all Americans get the same meal.

Sleeping is no longer something I am really able to do with any regularity, so since it was a weekend Dean and I watched our Netflix videos late into the night. “Funny People” had some funny people in it, but no plot or script to speak of. “Accidental Husband” was your typical rom-com—cute, but too formulaic for my taste.

The rest of the weekend we mainly lazed about, did just enough housework to ward off certain infection, and played Wii. Monday, like always, came too fast.

Live and Learn

The Marine Corps very nicely struck a deal with the Rosetta Stone people to allow Marines to take Rosetta Stone language classes online for freesies. Because Rosetta Stone programs are very expensive, and because I am still used to spending all evening in classes anyway, I settled in this evening to take advantage of the Level 1 Japanese course. I had to stop 45 minutes later when I realized I was yelling at the computer, “Watashi wa...HATE YOU!” Apparently my pronunciation is not what it should be. Or maybe my microphone is broken. Yeah, it's probably the microphone come to think of it.

In other mundane news, I was so excited to see a loaf of Jewish rye at the grocery store today I scooped it up like it was the last Zhu Zhu Pet and a crowd of crazy parents were running toward it. It wasn't until I got home that I realized I bought absolutely nothing to put on it. I'm sure the commissary will have pastrami for a day or two a few months from now. How long can you keep bread frozen?

But I Swear I'm Not a Republican

Today Dean and I went to the doctor's ostensibly to discuss the ultrasound results from last Wednesday. However, what actually happened is that we got there, I got weighed, I explained how very heavy maternity jeans were and that they should probably subtract seven to ten pounds, and then we waited for 20 minutes to see the doctor for all of 30 seconds so that he could tell us the results were not back yet. I think my doctor (who was assigned to me, by the way) is one of those guys who doesn't “put much stock” in ultrasounds anyway, and I think that because that's what he said. Modern science, shmodern science. Now I know this clinic has phones and that they use them, because I have to sit on hold for a very long time every time I call. So I am still trying to figure out why no one called me to have me reschedule my appointment until at least the results were in. With all the talk of health care reform going on in Congress now, my idea is to put every one of those Congressmen onto military health insurance, which would give lawmakers a good inside look of how socialized health care actually operates. The sad fact is, folks, even where life and limb are concerned, I think you really do get what you pay for.

Take Me Out to the Ball

It took a village, to get me in this dress.

St. Barbara is the patron saint of artillerymen in the Marine Corps, and every year the artillerymen have a ball in her honor. Dean is an administrator (meaning he has a desk job), but he is attached to an artillery unit here so we were cordially invited to the event.

At 9 feet tall and 6 months pregnant, I am about 4.5 times the size of a normal Japanese woman and so I cannot really buy too many clothes out in town. Ergo, I ordered a dress for the event online about a month prior, to give it time to ship here—a beautiful ivory-colored strapless number with silver beaded detail. When I went to make the purchase, I took some measurements, approximated a weight gain curve, closed my eyes, and selected a size 10. Just to give you a frame of reference, I wore a strapless dress for Tracy's wedding in June in a size 4, so I figured if worse came to worse I could always get the ball dress taken in by a tailor if it was too big. When the dress came in two weeks later, however, it fit perfectly. No need for tailoring. Then last night came. I flat-ironed my hair, put on my face, shimmied the dress over my head, and turned around to have Dean zip it for me. He just laughed. “No way is that going to zip!” he choked out through his guffaws. Well, it took ten minutes and a fair amount of cajoling the poor overwrought zipper, but we squeezed me in! Then it was time to waddle off to the ball.

Most of the time I like a plated meal service, but the buffet was really very good and what's more, it stayed open all night, so no complaints there. I tried to order a seltzer with lime but not knowing the Japanese word for seltzer, my pointing and gesturing somehow got me tonic water which I have to tell you tastes really bad without the gin in it.

There was a lot of standing up and sitting back down, as I guess Colonels and Generals tend to expect standing ovations to their speeches. Knowing it takes a bit of energy to maneuver myself into a standing position these days, Dean kindly offered a hand to help me up to my feet. As he lifted, he made a grunting noise like he was picking up a rhinoceros. This earned him some death-ray eyes, which I've been working on because as everyone knows, all moms need a LOOK. I daresay mine is pretty effective, because subsequent gentlemanly aids by Dean were suffered through in silence.

After the dinner and the speeches, the artillerymen put on funny skits about how God created artillerymen, who were naturally just the bravest and the brightest in all of the Marine Corps and the world, for that matter. After that, they mixed up a disgusting “punch” drink with ingredients donated from the audience like sweat wrung from a sock, and then had an unfortunate young artillerymen sample a glass and proclaim it “very tasty, sir.” There were also song parodies and story-telling, so really it was a very entertaining evening.

Just a Trim

Got my hair trimmed by a lovely woman named Ayako today. Even with me sitting down in the chair at its lowest, she still had to stand on tip-toe to see the top of my head. In her broken English and my VERY broken Japanese, we established that I was expecting an akachan (baby) in Shigatsu (April). Ayako informed me that spring was the best season to be born and congratulated me on a job well done when I told her I was having a boy.

Unlike the hairdressers I am used to in the states who take off two inches when I ask them to take off a quarter of an inch, Ayako would only trim the amount I indicated between my thumb and forefinger. But then she would tell me how pretty I would look if she could just trim a little more. So of course I ended up with the two inches off anyway, but I have to say I felt much more involved in the decision making process.

All About Baby Day

Before.

After.

My first thoughts of what we would need when we found out we were having a baby were things like...a crib...diapers...bottles. Dean, on the other hand, thought CAR. We are driving his-and-hers two-door Honda Civics currently, so if we wanted to put a car seat in the backseat (which is the "legal" way, I suppose), we would need at least one more door. Yesterday we went to pick up Dean's new purchase. It was...a minivan. Yes, the man who purchased a flashy sports car convertible just two short years ago was now standing proudly in front of a big silver minivan. I have to hand it to Dean. He doesn't do anything half-way. Of course, I told him it was everything I had ever wanted.

Today I took a day off of work to go to a prenatal appointment at the Naval Hospital on Camp Lester. It is a good hour away from our house, maybe an hour and a half or two in traffic. I am already getting nervous about making it there in time when the baby is ready to come. Fortunately, many women have assured me that I will be spending WAY more than two hours in labor, so I have nothing to worry about. We had a level II diagnostic ultrasound to check on the development and we will get the results back Monday. It was so great to see the baby. At this point, we are pretty certain the baby is a boy. He is already very long, and whereas most fetuses are in, well, the fetal position, our guy insists on keeping his legs straight out, crossed at the ankles. The other thing he kept doing that annoyed the ultrasound tech but to me was an obvious sign of early genius is every time she put the ultrasound wand on my belly, he would look right at it. This made it near impossible for her to get a profile shot. But, really, wasn't that very smart of him?

After we got done at the hospital we swung by the housing agency to pay our rent. Maki, one of the women there, hadn't seen me in awhile and chirped happily, "You are going to have a baby!"

I said yes, I was, and she asked, "When?"

I told her April and she looked across the office and gestured toward one of the other women. "She also has a baby in April!" Maki told me.

The pregnant Japanese woman and I met eyes and of course glanced down at each other's bellies. I am carrying a 30-pound, regulation-size basketball on my front now. Her stomach was just very slightly distended, like she'd had a big lunch. The look we shared crossed any language barriers and the whole office erupted into laughs.

"Me, the end of April," she offered helpfully. "You, beginning?"

"Very beginning," I assured her.

I Watched New Moon with 100 Marines

In a touching scene, Edward begs Bella to wait a few years before she becomes a vampire. "Why?" she wants to know. "I'm hoping you fill out a little more," supplied the Marines in front of us.

Put in a full day of work yesterday at the nuthouse. We get one English radio station out here, Wave FM, that we keep on all day. The Marines dee-jay it from one of the camps on the island. I liked one of the tag lines I heard on it yesterday-"Wave FM. Your alternative...to silence."

Dean called during the day to see if I wanted to go to New Moon that evening, the new teen angsty/vampire movie. I did NOT want to go, but I grudgingly agreed to anyway. I know Dean likes an immediate audience for his movie talking. Looking back, I really should have traded him doing the sink full of dishes for going.

We got to the movie a half hour early and it was already very full for Camp Hansen standards, about 50% occupied. Most of the Marines on Camp Hansen are single young guys and, as a rule, enjoy movie talking just as much as Dean. Marine movie theatres are not the kind you get shushed in. In fact, truly obnoxious comments during particularly poignant moments are usually rewarded with appreciative laughs or barks (yes, Marines bark). They have such a good time being insufferable, I am pretty sure that is why the base even bothers showing dramatic films in between the shoot-em-ups.

They were all in rare form during New Moon. They mock-cheered in high-pitched squeals when one of the young male leads whipped off his shirt to stop the heroine's bleeding. They laughed uproariously at the more romantic moments, and several times felt it incumbent upon them to advise the main vampire he had "no balls."

Overall the movie was pretty lame, but I would have to recommend going anyway if you have the chance to see it with a bunch of young Marine movie talkers.

The Hunt for a Christmas Tree in Okinawa

Yesterday Dean and I hopped into the car and drove 20 miles/40 minutes to Kadena Air Base. The Air Force BX always has nicer stuff than the Marine Corps PX's, so I wanted to go there. Of course, before going shopping I dropped Dean off with his friend at the driving range on the Kadena base. It made me feel like a soccer mom already.

Christmas stuff out here is hard to come by. I had already struck out on two bases--Camps Courtney and Hansen were already sold out of Christmas trees by the day after Thanksgiving. I'd gotten a tip from a coworker that a third base (Camp Foster) was a complete zoo owing to them having procured some live trees, so I wouldn't even bother trying there. I got lucky and found a pre-lit, 6.5-foot artificial tree on Kadena for a pretty good price--$69. Someone snagged the last big ornament set before I got to it, but I was able to scoop up a few gold balls and an odd, Chinese pagoda thing that I decided to use as a tree topper. I like to wind thick ribbon around the tree, but that was no where to be found. I would ask my Ma to send it but by the time it gets out here, Christmas will be done and gone.

I browsed around and picked up a few gifties. If you think you might be one of the people I bought a gift for, better play it safe and send me one. Then I went to pick up Dean and spent a few minutes judging the driving contest, where the bets ranged from who had to buy dinner to which waitress at the club house Dean's friend would have to hit on if Dean drove the ball further.

We set up the tree when we got home. And by "we" I mean I tore into it while Dean protested from the couch that it was way too early to set it up. And then when I had made a mess of layering the fake-fir tiers completely incorrectly, he stepped in and fixed it with a sigh that I assume could only be one of contentment. I paired my fakey tree with a mistletoe-scented candle. I doubt its visible metal rod and sparse, Charlie-Brown-esque branches are fooling anyone, even paired with the (also artificial) scent, but hey, we tried! Then we had a few people come for dinner to our newly festive apartment. I served overcooked roast beef, which I blamed on my Japanese convection oven. But the Marines we had over were very kind and assured me they didn't mind at all, because the meal had their favorite quality--it was free.

Just another Sunday in Okinawa.

A Gecko Tried to Eat Me

If koala bears are the cutest infestation ever, these are second-cutest.

Monday, June 13, 2009

Two days until Harry Potter comes out. Since we are thirteen hours ahead of all my family in NY, we will get to see the movie first and we’re really excited to be obnoxious about it to them.

This morning was Dean’s first day of school, I mean work. He got dressed in his alphas to check in, which is the olive green suit and tan shirt and tie. He looked so durn cute in his uniform I wanted to hand him a G.I. Joe lunchbox and a book bag, but Dean insisted that was not necessary (and that, besides, G.I. Joe was Army). After checking in, he came back to the room to change into desert camis. I told him I was looking forward to the swimsuit part of the competition.

When Dean left, I went about straightening up the room and all of a sudden found myself staring right into the eyes of....a...gecko! We blinked at each other for a moment, then I jumped onto the coffee table. When I was convinced he was not going to eat me, I scurried to get a cup and a plate. This is the traditional spider-catching equipment used in the states at least, but I thought I would cleverly adapt it to the situation at hand. I crept up and quickly put the cup down over him. Well, I chased him as he slithered all over the room first and THEN quickly put the cup down over him. Then I slowly slid the plate under the cup. Victory! Gecko caught. I toyed with the idea of naming him Mr. Wigglepants and keeping him as a pet, but I didn’t guess Dean would agree with that decision. So, I did the right thing and released him into the wild. After taking a picture, of course.

I had to get my medical and dental records set up today, so Dean came to pick me up. The air was still super humid. Dean and I come up with an explanation-a-day as to “how humid is it?” Today’s: the air is so humid, you can’t breathe it, you have to chew and swallow it. I didn’t say they were all winners, people.

Got all my medical paperwork did up, had some lunch with the Deanzer, went to the bank and post office, and then went to the spouse employment services. It was 20% informative and 80% depressing. But I walked away with a few leads and a plan of action, so that part is good.

We spent the evening studying for our Japanese driving test and falling asleep to “Rachel Getting Married.” (Review: Dean says it’s “artsy.” This is an insult on the Ellis rating scale.)

First Saturday in Okinawa

Now that's what I call a boat load of food. Har har.

July 11, 2009

Saturday. We woke up finally around 10 AM local time. Everyone always asks me if I am affected by jet lag, but the truth is my brain is easily fooled by a clock. The clock tells me what time it is, I believe it and act accordingly. Noon? Doesn’t matter if I just ate, I must be hungry. 11 PM? Bed time!

We walked around Camp Hansen for a bit. The weather is about 90 degrees in the shade and so muggy, you almost have to do a breast stroke while walking to move through the air. So, I love it. Dean, not so much.

We got Dean’s hair cut and my interview suit tailored; bought some soap, foodstuffs, and other odds and ends; and rented a video. Valkyrie, but I didn’t like it. Spoiler: they weren’t able to assassinate Hitler. Boo to adhering to history.

In the afternoon, Dean called our Gunnery Sergeant (GSgt) / Sponsor and invited him and his wife out to dinner as a thank you for all his help. They suggested a sushi place that was out of this world. The tables were traditional Japanese style, about a foot off the floor with mats to kneel on. Dean’s poor bionic knee was killing him in a few minutes, so to be sympathetic I tried not to appear I was having as much fun as I really was. My sushi was so fresh, I think it swam onto my wooden platform-plate itself. Dean’s meal came in a carved boat. It would have gotten full points for plating on any Iron Chef competition. Everything was so delicious, I know I am going to be such a sushi snob when I get back to the States. Noice.

The GSgt and his wife were absolutely wonderful, and took us around the island a bit more to show us where things were and even brought us back to their home so we could see what base housing was like. Surprisingly spacious! I started getting excited to decorate our little corner of the island. It was such a nice evening. Can't wait to experience more of Okinawa!