Lanai

This past weekend Dan and I went to Lanai for a version of camping. It was a fun and interesting weekend.

We bought our tickets last weekend at the revival of Sushi and 40s Night. It was a good night. A couple of drinks into the evening, Dan listed us as doctors on the airline tickets. Of course, there could have been some sort of legal ramifications if something went wrong, so I set the story straight in the remarks section. "We are not real doctors" probably would have cleared us from any blame had anything gone wrong.

The flight itself was one of the highlights of the trip. We flew in a nine seat plane. It was small and our pilots, while probably the B-team, were pretty funny. Their safety speech was as follows:

Pilot 1: Welcome aboard Go! Airlines, we will be taking off shortly for our flight to Lanai City, Lanai. Your nearest emergency exit is behind you on either side of the aircraft. You can also come out our doors up-front, but you will have to get through us first. There is a fire extinguisher in the back, which could also be used as a club. If you do get clubbed by one of us, there is a first aid kit on the wall next to this plastic, terrorist proof door up here, which we ask you to stay behind. Hang on and enjoy the flight.
Passenger: When do you serve the beer?
Pilot 2: Actually, we don't serve beer on this flight, but you can bring your own. According to FAA regulations, you are not allowed to open it, so you have to pass it to us, we open it, and hand it back.
Passenger: Really?
Pilot 1: He's not kidding. Of course, a sip tax also applies to every beer we open, so you won't get a full beer back after passing it forward.
Pilot 2: It's a small tax. They just gave me my pilot's license back, so I don't like risking it as much anymore.


Following that, we flew right over Waikiki on our way to Lanai. Lanai airport was the most interesting airport I have ever been to. It was like I imagine any municipal airport being like, except we were commercial passengers. The pilot got the key to the airport from coded-key box and asked us to keep our voices down in order to avoid waking the guard. Nice.

Before describing the route we took after leaving the airport, I need to give a short history of the island. In a nut shell, someone owns the entire thing. It used to supply 20% of the world's commercial supply of pineapples when Dole owned it. At that time, every arable square foot of land was covered in Dole pineapples. Eventually the water went dry and American labor became too expensive. David H. Murdoch bought it all and put up two resorts, which is the island's only real economic engine. Only 3,000 people live on the island, all in Lanai City.

Today, the old pineapple fields are covered in grass and some small shrubs. Most of the roads are old field access roads. We tried cutting through the fields in the beginning, but the shortest distance (or at least fastest) between two points isn't always a straight line. If you are ever in Lanai, stick to the roads. All we got for our trouble was itchy legs and lost time.

We made a bee-line for the road and turned on my GPS (worth every penny). With the help of some satellites and digital maps, we made our way to Kaonolu. It was the site of an ancient fishing village and a residence of Kamehameha I. We found a spot to put up the tent for the night . The weather was great, but the ground was not. It was covered with some very large volcanic rocks, with no where to put up a tent to avoid all of them. On the bright side, we each saved $5 by not going to a campground. A fair compromise, I suppose.


The next day we looked at the sights in the area, including Kahekili's Jump (a 30m drop where Kamehameha made warriors prove their bravery. No, we didn't jump.), the ruins of the fishing village, and a couple of heiau (shrines). We sat next to one of the shrines and ate breakfast while watching the crabs and fish in the pools below, as well as the occasional humpback whale in the deeper water. After breakfast, we made our way up the dirt road towards Hulopo'e Beach.


The beach was nice. By that time we had walked about 13 miles (I just mapped it out on Google Earth) since our arrival on Lanai. It may not sound like a lot, but much of that was up hill on rough roads. Ok, even that it doesn't sound bad, but the point is, the water was nice. It was next to one of the resorts, so we got an eye full of the rich European looking people with their small knit caps, oversized designer sunglasses, and not-quite-Speedo swimsuits. The water was full of locals and dolphins, so that was fun as well. We ate lunch on the beach and began walking up hill towards town. A little more than a mile into the walk, a passerby offered us a ride. We weren't about to say no.

Our new friend was a teacher who had been living in Hawaii on and off since the 1970's and had recently decided to make Lanai her home for good. Luckily for us, she both wanted to show us around the island and also really wanted to take her new xTerra off road. Again, we weren't about to say no. We got to drive the entire Munro trail, which took us across the spine of the island and made for some wonderful views. Lanai, Maui, and Molokai are all very close to one another, and that is even more obvious from 3000 ft.


Later in the afternoon we picked up a grill and some chicken on a stick. We headed down to Polihua Beach, just past the Garden of the Gods, and grilled out. We watched some whales swim nearby and the green flash of the sun setting (I didn't see it). A few beers into the evening we talked about all of the high brow philosophical topics you talk about while in front of a fire on a beach in Hawaii, namely, how sweet it is to live in Hawaii and have a fire on the beach. This is also known as 'the good life.'



We went back to Lanai City and made some lumpiez (Filipino pork wraps dipped in hot and sour sauce) and passed out pretty quickly. The next morning it was straight to the airport, a long bus ride home, some doughnuts from Kaneohe Bakery, and a full day of trying to think of something to do. We didn't come up with anything, so it ended up being a day of eating and TV watching. I think it was our feet that led us to that decision.

Maintain

I have a history of ignoring maintenance on everything I own. After a few minutes of reflection, I think I have narrowed down the top 5 reasons for that:

1. I am not very mechanically inclined.
2. I procrastinate. A lot.
3. I have a natural flight response whenever a project becomes more difficult than what I originally signed up for.
4. I don't operate in the realm of exactness, just approximations (I am currently holding my car together with marine adhesive, steel epoxy, and a killer combo of disassembled pens and super glue).
5. I don't trust anyone who charges $75/hr plus the cost of parts to have my best interest in mind. Right or wrong, I assume that they don't care about addressing the actual problems as much as they care about maximizing their profit by recommending questionable, expensive, and unnecessary procedures.

All in all, I think it has just been a bad couple of months. Allow me to list my problems:

1. My Toyota station wagon suffered an exploded radiator (technical term) 5 days before I left Japan. The result: no return on my original purchase price. In the end, that's not so bad. The cost of the vehicle averaged out to about $9/day plus fuel, which is way less than the $55/day car rentals over there.

2. My sailboat got reamed by the Kona Winds right before I returned to Hawaii. My mast is still waiting for me on the bottom of the marina floor. While it is true that I ignored most maintenance on the boat, the actual piece of the boat that failed is not something I would have replaced during routine maintenance, anyway. The winds were so strong that the metal clasp holding the 1/4" wire to the boat sheared. Nature is strong.

3. My Honda Accord is limping badly. Despite feeding her $250 in parts (CV axle, distributor cap, spark plugs and wires) and giving her hours of TLC (oil change, brake bleeding, and tender words of encouragement motivating her to overcome her old age) these past two weeks, she is getting very poor gas mileage and shutters while driving. Per the mechanics advice back in 2003, I am going to try replacing the oxygen sensor this weekend. Maybe that will help.

4. My BMW K75 motorcycle is sluggish on the acceleration and overheats. I think it may be due to a clogged fuel filter. I didn't come up with this diagnosis on my own; internet discussion boards aren't just for the video-gaming crowd and desperately lonely. Also, I remember a seemingly related event from a few years ago while traveling. We were driving to Mt. Everest and our Tibetan driver stopped to clean the fuel filter (really dusty roads) because the Land Cruiser was very sluggish. His cleaning methods were pure: he simply took out the fuel filter, put the thing up to his mouth, sucked out the problem, gagged and possibly puked, put the filter back in, and pressed on. I think I will spend the $25 for a new filter and skip the middle steps, but I hope to have the same results.

As the old aphorism commands: "Know Thyself." This weekend if I can overcome reasons 1-3 from the top of the post, I shouldn't have to worry about #4. As for #5, I think Robert Persig had an admirable way of looking at it all in "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance." Basically, even if I exacerbate my original problem and have to pay someone to fix it plus the additional problems I cause, at least I will have learned something along the way.

When all is said and done, it's simply a matter of perspective. As long as I can come to the end of this project and write off expenses under "education" rather than "I have no idea what I am doing and I should have paid someone else to do it in the first place," I will consider it a success.

Kauai

This past weekend, I went to Kauai with a few friends. Kauai is a beautiful island and the trip was the perfect length to see everything we wanted to see without having to spend the whole holiday there.


We arrived on Sunday morning and made our way to the Na Pali Coast. Na Pali translates to "the cliff(s)," which is an accurate description of the hike. I have heard from a lot of people that Na Pali is the most beautiful part of Hawaii. While it was a great hike and had some beautiful scenery, I can't say that it was the most beautiful thing I've seen in Hawaii. I think it is pretty difficult to rank different parts of Hawaii against one another. There are so many things here that are so impressive, it is nearly impossible to make a definitive list. I will say that it was impressive, but with the build-up preceding the trip, I was expecting a little more. Another thing that may have affected my perception was the crowds. I am willing to bet that the whole ordeal would have been more pleasant and tranquil had the trail not been so heavy with traffic, but on a holiday weekend, it is to be expected.

Of note, the girls think they saw Sarah Jessica Parker in the parking lot by the start of the trail. It may or may not have been her. If anyone knows how to track down celebrities, it may be worth looking into. Also, we didn't take any pictures because we thought it would be rude (i.e. we have no proof.)

Yesterday we slept in, got some breakfast, and headed for Kipu Falls as our first destination. The falls there are unlike the majority of the falls that I have seen in Hawaii. Usually, the water cascades down a rock face in a thin stream. In Kipu's case, the face of the falls was about 25 meters across and 10 meters high. The pool at the bottom was quite large and deep. One of the added bonuses of the falls was that on a ledge at the side of the pool the owner's of the land (the falls is on private property, but the owners don't try to keep people out) installed a ladder and rope swing. Depending on what point of the swing you released the rope, you could get a pretty good drop into the water.

The rapids leading up to the waterfall were very strong. In order to get to the pool, the best way was to jump from the top of the waterfall, swim to the ladder, and play on the rope swing. The return trip was a little more difficult. I almost lost it in the rapids and would have been pushed over the falls. After my first failed attempt at crossing, I decided to walk upstream until I found some rocks to climb across. I do better with climbing than swimming.

After the falls, we went to Waimea Canyon. This is one of the places that, if I were making a list, I would definitely have up there with the most beautiful places I've seen. It's called Hawaii's Grand Canyon. I wish I could give an good representation of the canyon, but I am not the best with words and my pictures never show the things as I saw them at the time. The best description I could give of the canyon is that it seemed to be dripping with light from both the sky and the reflection off of the nearby ocean. The way that the sunlight drenched everything was the most alluring aspect of it all for me. I wouldn't even describe it as bright or clear, but instead thick and full. It was as if the light was a liquid coating covering the entire scene. It was beautiful. I'm not sure how else to describe it.

After the canyon, we all got some shave ice (not shaved, mind you) and headed back towards the airport. Despite my car having some troubles with the brakes and a really bad shake in the front right tire, we all made it home by 9:30pm. It was New Year's Eve, but I decided against going out. I was in bed by 11:00 and not even the constant sparkle and boom of the fireworks (they people here really love fireworks) interruped my sleep. I slept in until after 8:30 this morning. I think that is the most I have slept-in since getting back from Japan. Today I am finally getting my day of sleeping in, sitting around, and doing nothing. Hooray for the holidays.

Mele Kalikimaka

The title is Hawaiian for "Merry Christmas." This year I was not able to make it home. I have been more-or-less traveling for the past six months and I really wanted some time to get settled in Hawaii and just stay still. I envisioned my holidays full of sleeping in and lounging all day. In the end, that didn't happen, but I had a better time than I would have had I been lazy.

My Christmas ended up being very nice, thanks to friends, old and new. A good friend/teammate of my from college was in town, so we were able to catch up the past week. He helped me try to dredge up my mast from the murky marina floor. In the end, we weren't able to raise the mast from the bottom of the marina, but I plan on renting some SCUBA gear this weekend. We'll see what happens.

Although Madeline & Nine is without a mast, she was still able to make it to the sand bar. I'm not sure if I already mentioned it or not, but the 1/8" metal lines holding the mast on frayed and snapped during the 75 mph + Kona Winds a few weeks ago. To be fair, I did notice that they were starting to get small cracks a while back, but I didn't want to spend the $800 to replace them. Nothing on sailboats is cheap, but I am cheap. That combination is how we got to where we are today. I would like to say "lesson learned," but change is slow and I will probably still be looking to cut costs where I can.

On Christmas day I went to the sandbar with Dan, a new co-worker Mandie, and her sister who was visiting from school. It was a pretty good time. We had some celebratory Christmas cigars (note the celebration in the photo below) and ate brats. Very Christmas-y. It was in the low 70's, so pretty chilly, buy we all managed.

On Christmas I had dinner at a friends place. We wore crowns and had some amazing prime rib. All in all, a good time. Tomorrow I leave for the island of Kauai, so I should have another update soon.

Happy New Year!

Back "Home" in Japan

I am back in lovely Japan after spending the past six weeks ducking in and out of foreign places. We were able to make it to the Philippines, Hong Kong, South Korea, and Cambodia. I had never been to the Philippines before (and only had a layover in Korea), so it was good to see some new places. Unfortunately, I didn't really get all that much time to get out and see many sites, but at least I wasn't stuck on the boat for the whole time.

The Philippines, at least the tiny portion I saw, was poor, but the people seemed not to mind. I had the opportunity to (poorly) sing some karaoke one night, which is something I haven't done since Luoyang, China. Note to the others out that that can't sing: Marcy Playground is easy, as are nursery rhymes; especially after a couple of San Miguels and Red Horses. Unfortunately the night of karaoke (when I was going to have just one) ended in my first hang over in a couple of years. On the bright side of things, that, in turn, kept me from over-imbibing later in the trip when it would have been very easy to do.

Better than the karaoke was the day market I was able to make it to. Of course they had the classic pig heads on blocks and lots of fresh produce, plus the giant bins of grain and pesky flies. The best find was definitely the fruit juices for $0.10. I had a few of those. I am a proponent of coconut milk. It will cure what ails you.




Hong Kong was fun, as always. I was able to practice some Mandarin with the mainland immigrants selling junk at the markets. One of the guys I was hanging out with was looking to buy a "quality" imitation watch. He ended up getting an Omega, but not before spending an hour and twenty minutes haggling. During that time I was able to establish quite the rapport with the vendors. In fact, they asked me the sponsor their visa application to the United States. I gracefully declined.



Of note, this was the first time visiting Hong Kong when I actually had a job and could afford to enjoy Hong Kong as a real-life tourist. I am proud to say that my cheapness is so deep rooted that I couldn't bring myself to venture away from the street food. I would argue that it is the best food, anyway, and it being the cheapest is only a happy coincidence. I was also able to get some dim sum, which I had been looking forward to for quite some time. I don't know what it is about dim sum, but I usually end up drinking multiple pots of tea and go through a strange, potentially drug induced (caffeine), set of behaviors: I get very awake, I feel a bit light-headed, I start to sweat, and I stay hungry. It makes for a good time.


Next stop: Korea was a bit chilly, but not yet cold. I only got a couple of hours on land there. Again, from the small sliver of Korean life I saw, I will go ahead and make some sweeping conclusions about all things Korean: it actually looked a lot like China. I know that's probably very offensive to the Korean and/or Chinese to say that, but the broken sidewalks, small business spilling into the roads, and old men spot welding in flip-flops with no eye protection was a common sight. The biggest difference was the hair styles. The Koreans were really into straight bangs (sorry, no photos).

The last stop was Cambodia. I was able to spend three evenings hanging out in beautiful Sihanoukville. It was actually a really nice place. When Sheng and I traveled through Cambodia a few years back, we skipped Sihanoukville and only went to Siem Reap (Angkor Wat) and Phnom Penh. Our mistake. Sihanoukville was a lot like a nice beach in Thailand. It reminded me of Koh Phang Nang, but without the trance music, lady-boys, and extremely drunk tourists. The food and drinks were good and cheap (mint-lime is a great combination in a shake) and the music was very appropriate for the setting. Most places played a lot of Jack Johnson and Bob Marley. One evening I was pleasantly surprised that one guesthouse played one of my favorite albums, DJ Kicks by Kruder and Dorfmeister, from start to finish. I think the definition of pleasant is when you can sit in a giant, soft chair with your feet in the sand, eating and drinking to your fill by candlelight, staring into the dark sky and ocean while listening to your favorite music and joking around with friends. How much more pleasant could life get?


Of course, it wasn't all a rose garden. One evening, while in a local market, I ordered some food from a small stand tucked between the oils section and bananas. I asked if they had any drinks there, but they just had their own bucket of tea. The girl dipped a plastic cup into the tea and offered it to me. For one I was very thirsty, and two, it would have been rude to say no at that point. I drank the tea greatfully. The next day, however, I awoke with some pretty violent stomach pains and a fever. The fever subsided after a day, but even now, a week and a half later, I am having some stomach issues. Not to get too into the details, but if I got a free bathroom visit after 12 paid visits, I would get to complete a new punchcard every day. I have been drinking apple cider vinegar as much as I can, and I think it's working. If all goes well, it will cure what is ailing me before I have to go through the 18 hour adventure back to Honolulu next week.



All in all, it was a good fall. The weather here in Okinawa is perfect. It has all of the classic fall temperatures, smells, and sights. I forget how much I enjoy the transitional period between seasons.

I should be back in Hawaii in about a week. That will be nice as well, although I recently found out that my boat sustained some significant damage in a recent storm. The mast broke off and took a good chunk out of my cabin as it fell. Then, to add insult to injury, the guy lines caused the mast to act as a battering ram against the hull until the marina staff could cut it free. From what I hear, there is no fear of sinking, but the mast now lies at the bottom of Kaneohe Bay. I was still taking that news in when my car here on Okinawa blew up while I was driving it. The radiator decided to explode for no good reason at all (it was much hotter in the summer). In all, I am looking at a few thousand dollars lost over the past week. As they say, bad things happen in threes. I'm guessing if it's anything, my motorcycle will get stolen the day before I return to Hawaii. Hopefully it's not the airplane that ends up being number three. I'm not that good of a swimmer.

On the bright side, this goes to support my argument in favor of buying cheap things. If they get destroyed, you can roll with the punches rather than getting upset. Of course, one could argue that nice things are less likely to fall apart in a storm and attempt suicide (boat) or blow up because it can't hold it's liquid (radiator). The debate continues.

The Beach at Cape Hedo

Maybe it was the 2L of apple tea and five hours of sleep. Maybe things really were as they seemed. Overall, I would consider myself a very happy person. With that being said, today was the happiest day I have had in a very long time. The odd thing is, I can’t place exactly why. No matter, when you have a day as good as mine was today, finding the root cause really isn’t important. What is important is to accept and absorb the happiness.

Today was a day like one I have not experienced in I-don’t-know how long. Everything was more beautiful. The sound of the waves deeper, richer. The sun brighter. The water somehow sweeter. The sand soft and forgiving.

To start with, I need to give a short background, dating back over a decade to the summer of 1997. That summer my best friends from high school and I visited “the cabin” on Lake Superior for the first time. We left mid-week after work, packed into a Mercury Cougar, and drove north through the night. We arrived at the cabin just before dawn. The five of us, too excited to be tired, made our way to the rocky shore and waited to greet the rising sun. I don’t know how the others felt about it, but for me it was a rare moment of clarity that I still appreciate to this day. A moment that even a 16 year old with no life experience realized was important for reasons that I didn’t understand then and probably don’t understand fully now. In a very real sense, it was a celebration of the here-and-now. Nearly every time I see the sunrise, I think back to that day and am thankful. I’m not exactly sure why, but to me, watching the sunrise is nothing short of magical. It is impossible for me to be unhappy during those elusive few minutes I watch the night separate from day.

Fast forward to last Thursday. An old friend from Hawaii sent me an email. Among other things, she wanted to let me know that she would be visiting Madison this weekend and was looking for some suggestions. That evening I spent an hour or so remembering Madison, coming up with suggestions of places to go and things to do. As anyone who has been there knows, Madison is a great place to be and I really enjoyed the chance to remember some of the wave-tops from my time in school. In her email she also mentioned places to see here in Okinawa. Since my trip to the Philippines got delayed, I had this whole weekend free. I took her advice and decided to visit Cape Hedo and Peace Park.

That brings us to today, this morning, 3:05am. Without hitting the snooze button even once, I was out of bed getting ready for my long drive to the very northern tip of the island. Somehow, it is nearly impossible to get out of bed at 5:00am during the week, but just like waking up for Saturday morning cartoons, I am generally bright-eyed and bushy-tailed when I choose to wake up early. It’s one of the great mysteries of mankind.

I was on the road before 4:00am and made only one stop on the way to buy some apple iced tea. I arrived around quarter after five and walked around on the park trails (I even remembered my headlamp) until I found a spot that I thought would give me the best view. From there I just sat and waited. Seemingly being so close to constant clash between the cliff and the ocean helps turn down the volume on an otherwise chatty mind. It is more likely that my brain was lagging due to the five hours of sleep, but I really think there was more to it than sleep.


As I waited for the sky to change colors, I lounged on a monument platform, melding into the jagged coral. I was comfortable, content. I was neither overly tired nor overly awake. I was just there, thinking of nothing, hearing the crashing waves, smelling and tasting the warm, wet sea mist, and seeing the darkness drip away from the softening sky. Soon what was black was blue and the gray clouds were white. A new day had arrived. As Kurt Vonnegut liked to say, which he attributed to his uncle, “if that isn’t nice, what is?”

I spent a short while scampering over the rocks, peering over the cliffs. I was considering moving on to my next destination and made my way to my car. Before leaving, I figured it would be worth while to at least go into the observation pavilion. Obviously someone thought the view from there was worthy of a sheltered structure, so why not look. After all, it was only 7:00am.


The view was worthy of the structure. It showed some beautiful cliffs plunging into the bay below. From there I could also see a beach that stretched to the east, the sandy coastline broken into segments by rough gray fingers of rock and coral. That is where I needed to be.


It had been so long since I had been to the ocean. In Hawaii, not a week would go by that I didn’t sail in Kaneohe Bay or swim at Kailua beach. Out here it is different. On the southern part of the island, I had only seen the coasts lined with industry; factories, power plants, and resort hotels. The aesthetically pleasing jumble of water and land interrupted by the flat surfaces and straight lines of ‘island escape’ vacations. Up here it was different. In fact, besides a random 30’ tall statue of a bird on a hilltop in the distance and the ever present cell towers, I didn’t see any man-made structures.


I took to the road by foot, snapping pictures along the way. It is possible that sleep was still clouding my eyes, but everything this morning seemed to glow. The flowers, the rocks, the birds; even the road itself was somehow brighter, more pleasant to look at. By the time I reached the sand below, I had already stopped half a dozen times to take pictures of things that, on any other day, would not be worth a second look. I paused for a moment on the beach, turned towards the sun, and continued on my slow, deliberate meandering.


By the time on my watch showed 9:00am, I had covered a fair distance. Besides the handful of campers I passed when I first reached the beach, not another soul had crossed my path. There were no tracks in the sand besides mine. As far as I could tell, the entire beach ahead of me was for me alone. I stopped on a level outcropping of rock and looked north to the water. A school of fish bobbed in the wake below me, changing directions for no apparent reason. I remained there for half an hour, just staring at the water and the fish, not thinking of much at all.

After the fish had moved out of sight, I found myself wanting to swim. More than wanting, really: needing to swim. As strange as it may sound, it was as if the water was calling me, drawing me in to it. For a while, I ignored it. I reasoned against it: I can’t swim alone. I’m two miles from the nearest person. What if there is a rip current, jellyfish, undertow, rogue shark, poisonous coral, or I just pass out for no good reason at all? It’s too dangerous, after all.

In the end, the call of the water was more persistent than my less-than-rational safety concerns. I again walked east. I stood at the edge of the rock and saw what had been beckoning me.

The beach was nothing short of a dreamscape. Yellow sand shone brilliant in the low angle of the morning light. Smooth stones sparsely dotted the water’s edge. Moving away from the water, the beach inclined slightly and the stones increased in size and frequency. The beach, barely one-hundred feet long and forty feet deep, was protected by a half-moon of fifty foot walls embracing the scene below them. The walls resembled a steep amphitheater. Lush, green plants taking root in the broken, uneven slope softened the harshness of the walls, despite their best attempts to look hostile with their sharp, barbed leaves. A few boulders stood tall at the north-eastern edge of the crescent. The clear water rhythmically rocked back-and-forth, sliding up the sand and gently tumbling back into the cove, only to try again moments later. This hidden beach, devoid of all others, was waiting for me.

I climbed down the wall and sank into the soft sand. Without really knowing why, I began taking off my clothes. I nearly got naked, but thought better of it, and stopped when I got to my Under Armour spandex. Close enough, I suppose. The sun and wind against my skin made me laugh out loud. I sprinted to the other end of the beach and pulled up into a hockey-stop, driving shin deep into the wet sand. I galloped back to where I started, jumping and twirling and laughing, and not even knowing why. I ran to the water and submerged myself. I knelt in the sand and fragments of shells and stared out at the dark blue waves as they mixed with the edge of the reef and transformed into avalanches of white froth before setting into the cove like a turquoise satin sheet. I was filled with more energy than I knew I had. I felt like I could have done anything in that moment. Right then and there I was completely and fully happy.

My mood remained constant for the remainder of the morning. I stayed on that beach and let the absolute beauty of it all engulf me. I swam. I skipped stones. I jumped off rocks into the sand and I helped finger-nail sized hermit crabs climb out of my footprints. I sat and I stared into the ocean. And I stared. And I stared.

I tried to leave multiple times. Every time I stood up to go, I would take two steps and sit back down. I didn’t want it to end. I sat there for hours, my mind still and free of noise. The sun, the wind, the rocks, and the waves were all that occupied my thoughts. It is such a rare and pleasant occasion when you can think of nothing. I had no nagging thoughts. I had no real concerns. When I was thirsty, I drank my apple tea and water. When I was hungry, I ate Triscuits with tuna fish. I was satiated. I was filled to the brim with contentment and it was dripping from my pores.

Eventually the pendulum began to slowly swing back towards center. The food ran out and my drinks went dry. I still didn’t want to leave. I stayed until mid-afternoon. I tried to take some pictures of the beach, something to remember it by, but already, just a few hours later, I look at what I took and don’t see what I saw earlier today. I suppose it is difficult, if not impossible, to replicate an experience with something as flat and lifeless as a picture. In the end, it wouldn’t matter who took the pictures. You can't re-live moments past, no matter how carefully re-crafted the scene. I'm not saying that art can't be beautiful and inspirational, but not even the finest art is a worthy substitute for first hand experience.

It’s funny, really: the pictures I took are nothing but ones and zeros, the same as these words I type. They must be processed and brought to life by circuits, memory chips, and electrical currents. Without those pieces to the puzzle, they do not exist. They are virtually real, at the very most.

Really, the same could be said about my whole experience today. The beach itself was and is there, independent of me and my experiences. But it was me—my mind—that made it come to life, that made it real, even if only for me. The particular combination of influences in this instance, the real-world ‘ones and zeros’ of sand, sun, and water—as well as a week of too little sleep, too much tea early in the day, and too many days and nights of doing nothing but reading—all of that combined is what my mind made into the picture of happiness I saw and experienced on the beach today.

It begs the question: would all of that have been there without me? Was the beauty inherently there, or was it only there because my mind convinced itself that it was so? Were the ones and zeros already in place and only needed to be sorted and processed by my mind? Does that mean that each individual being creates his or her own reality? Is that reality pre-determined, set in code, waiting to be processed? How much of a choice do we have in seeing or not seeing beauty and experiencing happiness? Is it always there, underlying everything we do, and we just succeed or fail in picking up on the indicators, processing the code?

I’m done. I guess all that really matters is that I had a great time on the beach today. All was right in the world. Whether or not that was only in the world I created for myself is irrelevant.

It is now past midnight. Unfortunately for me, the tea is still keeping me awake, and there are no Saturday morning cartoons to prevent me from abusing the snooze button in four hours and fifty-four minutes.

Monday morning. I woke up with a headache and bloodshot eyes. The inevitable hangover from the day before. The headache was probably due to the tea. The bloodshot eyes from staring at the sun and water for eight hours. I’m not even sure what the ramblings from last night were about, but I’m leaving them in. I think I was high off tea, if that is even possible.

Naha

After working straight through the past two weekends, I forced myself to get out this weekend and do something. I went to Naha, at the southern most part of the island, and saw a couple of sights that I had been meaning to get to.

The first place I tried to get to, after dropping someone off at the airport, was Shurijo Castle. Of course, nothing can ever be so easy as to just drive to the destination, so I spent a better part of the morning circling the city looking for my intended destination. One thing I learned about Naha is that as soon as you get off the main highway, the roads become one lane and a jumble of twists and turns.

After repeatedly consulting my free map, which didn't have road names, only pictures of stoplights and the local tourist destinations, I eventually found what I was looking for. The castle itself was a representation of what it used to look like, but the real one has long since been destroyed. There were still a few walls and gates left from a while back, but the majority of it was newly constructed. It was still interesting to compare and contrast the castle to other castles I have seen. What did I learn? It looked more like Chinese castles than German ones. Funny how that works.

I walked around the castle for about an hour and a half before I decided to make my way to Kokusai Street (I think that may translate to Foreigner Street, but I can't be sure). This time around, I stopped at an information booth and got another free map, this time with directions explained to me and a highlighter in full force. The street was easier to find than the castle.

Parking was a different story. Of course, always the cheap skate, I thought that I might be able to find off street parking somewhere. I didn't, of course, and while I was looking, I ended up getting rear-ended by a Japanese driver. It wasn't all that hard, but I definitely didn't see it coming. It was like getting smoked full speed in a bumper car. My bumper was a little scratched up, but my door handle cracked into a few pieces. Seemingly the energy from the crash made it's way to the door handle. It sounds strange, but it happened.

I didn't want to get the police involved. My car was only $800 to begin with, so a few more scratches wouldn't hurt it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, ugly (and cheap) but reliable vehicles are the way to go. Cheap insurance, no car payments, and no worries. In fact, the other guy's insurance company called today to ask about the damage. I told that that I wasn't worried about it; save their money. I think the insurance agent was pretty surprised. I'm trying to bank some kharma, forget the cash.

At any rate, the other driver of the other vehicle called the police, but I had to wait for a translator to come. The whole ordeal took about 3 hours. Not an ideal way to spend a Saturday afternoon, but it could have been worse. After that I went to Kokusai street and wandered around for a couple of hours. There are a lot of crazy "back alleys" which are covered by plastic/glass to keep out the weather. It was strange because there were still apartments on the second floor. It was like one of those fake town at Disney.

In the evening, I slogged my way through traffic once more and showed up an hour late to a birthday party. Since I was driving, I didn't have anything to drink, hence no karaoke for me.

Sunday I spent the whole day finishing the last 400 pages of "I Know This Much Is True" by Wally Lamb. It was an excellent book. I highly recommend it to anyone. I couldn't tear myself away from it. Read it. Trust me.

(Another) Typhoon

Below is an actual conversation I had with two co-workers this morning:

Me: The weather has been beautiful the last couple of days. I'm going to try to get a beach volleyball game going this weekend. You guys in?

Guy 1: You kidding? It's almost the weekend. You know that means we are going to have a typhoon or at least two days of rain.

Me: It does seem that way sometimes, doesn't it? That has stopped me from going out the past three weekends I had plans.

Guy 2: You guys do know that there is a typhoon coming in this weekend, right?

Me: Wait... for real, or are you saying that because it always seems to be the case?

Guy 2: For real. Check the weather.

Guy 1: I didn't know about that, but around here, it's a safe assumption.

Sure enough.

AND since I got to deal with the whole Japanese jail incident last weekend, I have no groceries this week and not even gas in my car. If I were in the mood for a touch of melodrama, I would claim that the only way I can survive the weekend will be by drinking water from the toilet and eating melon mint gum. However, I will probably just bite the bullet and buy expensive groceries from a convenience store since I can't make it to the supermarket.

Firetruck!

This weekend started off bad and only got worse.

On Friday night, I did something out of character: I used a microwave oven. Generally, I am against using it. In my apartment in Hawaii, I stashed it away in the bathroom closet. Before Friday night, I hadn't used a microwave in about 6 years. There's the background info...

Last week seemed like a really long week, even though I only officially worked Wednesday-Friday. I was still tired and sore from all of the walking in Taiwan (does that make me an old man?), so I got 3 movies and a laptop from work and locked myself in my room. I also really wanted popcorn. Unfortunately, I can't cook popcorn in a coffee pot, so I had to buy the microwaveable kind.

I was a bit out of practice using a microwave and was really enjoying watching the Matrix. I put the popcorn on for 5 minutes. When the timer had about 30 seconds left, I noticed some smoke coming out of the bag, so I stopped the microwave and opened the door. Apparently it was a lot of smoke. About 10 seconds after I opened the microwave door, the fire alarm went off in the hallway. I thought, "I really hope I didn't do that." But I already knew that I did.

The Japanese firetruck arrived about 7 minutes later. All I kept thinking was "Ding Ding" (be sure to click on page two. The link is not appropriate for children or those that are easily offended). It was about 11:15pm and the rest of the residents were standing in a huddle outside the building when I came out. "Sorry, it was me. I burned some popcorn," was all I could really say. I hadn't even met my neighbors before that, so it was a good first impression.

I tried explaining to the Japanese firefighters that I burned popcorn. One of them understood my story. He turned to the others and blurted something in Japanese. All I heard was, "blah blah blah blah pop-o-corn blah blah blah." They checked out my room (which was a mess, but whatever) and were on their merry way. I stayed up watching movies until after 2:00am.

At 5:15am I got a phone call. It turns out that 3 of the guys that work for me decided to borrow a car and illegally drive to a bar. As they were leaving the bar, they got into a car accident with a Japanese local. It was nothing serious and the driver passed the breathalyzer, but when they found out that he didn't have a license, they took him to jail.

That meant I got to work an extra 21 hours this weekend. Luckily, I am on salary. Otherwise, I would be racking up some overtime out here.

Taipei, Taiwan

This past weekend I went to Taipei, Taiwan with a couple of guys from work. I have been meaning to get to Taiwan for a while now, so when I heard that they were making a trip, I invited myself along. While studying abroad in Beijing, I was able to take a few months to travel throughout the Chinese mainland. I made a point of going to every province. This trip to Taiwan was along those same lines. The whole question of whether or not Taiwan is part of China is still debated (heatedly by some), but I don’t care too much for the politics of the situation. For me, it was more along the lines of getting an introduction to all places Chinese.

Taipei was very similar to any big city in China (in the year 2000, China had over 200 cities with a population of 6 million or more. The number is probably higher by now, so when I say ‘big city,’ what I really mean to say is “big city that people outside of China have heard of.”). The people dressed the same way, ate the same things, and had the same sort of buildings (bathroom tile as an exterior) and sidewalks (broken, uneven, and with the lines and bumps built in for the blind in some parts).

The trip was decent, but not all that it could have been. The reason for that is because I have been very busy with work lately. I worked about 70 hours the week before the trip and I didn’t have time to prepare for it or even to look up things to do. I think that a big part of the problem was the lack of a guidebook. There is nothing wrong with avoiding tourist traps and seeking your own adventure, but we went into Taipei without any plans at all. On the one hand, I don’t like having too many plans when I travel. I like to do the planning on the train, plan, or bus ride to the destination, arrive, and take things as they come with only a skeleton of a plan. On the other hand, not even knowing the layout of a city before you grab a free map at the airport doesn’t translate to exciting and adventurous as much as confusing and frustrating.

The lack of a plan was apparent from the very beginning. Unfortunately, at midnight, after walking around for 4 hours looking for a place to sleep and not having any success, it’s easy to begin getting annoyed. At that point, it would be nice to be able to crack open the Lonely Planet and say, “we turn left out of Shilin subway station, walk two blocks, and a street of budget hotels will be on our right.” Nope. Instead we resorted to walking one way for a while, seeing that it wasn’t yielding any results, turning at a ninety degree angle and walking that way for a while.

We did find a strange hostel at around 11:00pm, but the lady running it was less than friendly. I think it was more of a long-term place. All of the guests were dressed for bed (think sweatpants and face creams) crowded around the TV in a dingy, poorly lit room. They looked at us with a sort of disbelief. The furniture was old and the walls yellow and stained. The scene was all together depressing and eerie. The only thing I could think was, “$9 a night? Sweet.”

The lady running the place was not friendly and claimed that she had no room, even though there was a board on the wall with three empty beds listed. She wouldn’t even let us make a local call to another place to see if they had any beds, despite my offer of cash. She made one of the guests give us his calling card, which I couldn’t get to work. The younger Chinese woman working at the place asked her, in Chinese, “why not just let them use the phone?” Her answer was, “because I don’t want to.”

Despite our best efforts and polite requests for help, we were no closer to finding a place to sleep than before we arrived at the run-down hostel. As we left, I said in English, “thanks for all of your help,” then in Chinese, “don’t worry about the phone call, we’ll just keep walking.” Granted, it wasn’t at all clever, but at least she understood that I understood Chinese and what she said about not wanting to let us use the phone. In Chinese that’s called diu lian: losing face.

Eventually, after midnight, we found a place.

On Saturday we started off with a dim sum breakfast. It wasn’t exactly what dim sum should be. There were no steaming carts with bamboo baskets, no pointing, no yelling, or crazy crowds. It was ordering off the menu and a half-full restaurant. The food was decent, but what’s dim sum without the ambiance?

We went to a couple of parks and a museum early in the day. The highlight was a bed of rocks that stimulated your body through pressure points on the feet. After the walking we did the night before (in sandals for me), it was a hurts-so-good barefoot walk up the stone path. None of us made it all the way to the bell (were we supposed to ring it in celebration if we made it?), but we all agreed that our feet felt very pleasant afterwards. Whether that was because they were rejuvenated or if they were just numb is beside the point.

After that it was off to the Chiang Kai Shek Memorial Hall (closed), a former “world’s tallest building” Taipei 101, and a night market (no men’s clothes). The day ended around midnight.

Day three started with some street food for breakfast and a trip north of the city to Dian Shui. While there we walked along the boardwalk, ate some squid on a stick and took part in some carney games. In the afternoon we headed to Taipei proper once more to visit some temples. The Long Dong (Dragon East) Temple was very crowed, but nicely maintained.

After that I struck out on my own. One of the guys wanted to go to a market before heading to a baseball game. I didn’t much feel like going anywhere in particular, so I decided to just start walking and see what I could find. I saw a lot of people burning spirit money and making offerings, but the fires were soon extinguished by a torrential downpour.

I waited under an overhang for about an hour, just watching people and the water. While waiting, I saw something that I had never seen before. People with umbrellas were escorting people without them from one overhang to another. People lined up at the edge of the overhang and waited for someone with an umbrella to walk by. The person with the umbrella would give a nod, and the two people would quickly cross the street, both partially protected from the rain. After that, they each went their separate ways after a short ‘thank you’ and good-bye.

The last day was spent at the National Palace Museum. It was not what I was expecting. For some reason, I thought there would be much more. Supposedly they have 600,000 pieces on display. I didn’t keep count, but it seemed that there was a lot less than that. There were a few sections with old government documents. Yes, that is as exciting as it sounds, which is not-at-all. Other than that, it was a lot of ink dishes, plates, and bronze pots.

After the museum, we made our way to the airport and back to Japan. Our plane didn’t explode, which is always a plus. The one that did explode a few weeks ago is still on display, though. It was a friendly reminder to read the emergency exit procedures carefully.

All in all, the trip was ok, but not the best I have ever taken. It’s hard to get to know a place in a weekend. Taiwan, at least the little I saw of it, was like an expensive version of China. What I learned: a guidebook is a must if you aren’t willing to pay for cabs and expensive hotels. If you have flat feet, don’t wear sandals and shoes without support. And, perhaps most importantly, you only enjoy things as much as you tell yourself you enjoy them. I went into this trip with the wrong mindset.

Churami Aquarium and Nago Castle Ruins Park

I made it up to the aquarium on Saturday. The major highlight was definitely the worlds largest acrylic fish tank. Most of the displays were pretty boring: a shrimp in one tank, a frog in another, etc. The giant tank, however, was a different story. There were probably about a dozen types of sea creatures in there. Everything from the giant whale sharks to manta rays to schools of small fish. They even had the same tuna I caught on the Molokai sailing trip last Labor Day. I sat and stared for about an hour and a half without knowing I was there so long.


One thing I couldn't help thinking about was how the schools of fish knew to hang out with the fish that looked like them. I don't imagine that they are smart enough to know what they look like and decide to swim with the fish that they recognize as similar. Yet I didn't see one instance of fish forming multi-species schools. The tank was fairly large, but as you can see from the photos, there were a lot of fish in there. Not only that, but the fish could move an entire school, minus one or two stragglers, on a moments notice. They would all turn at the same time and move the same speed and directions. I read somewhere (I possibly read it somewhere. I rarely know where I learned the things that I say) that there was an electrical current in schools of fish. That they, in essence, could share a collective brain by all becoming receivers and transmitters of the electrical impulses. I'm not sure if that is factual or not, but one thing for sure was that they somehow always knew what the other fish would do. There was no single leader. There was no domino effect. Just a perfectly timed movement of 100 fish. It was very interesting to watch, to say the least.


My day ended with me taking the wrong Hwy 71 three times on the way home. I have no idea why, but there are three different Hwy 71s on the north part of the island. Even if one is a city road, one a county, and one a state highway, it still doesn't seem very logical. Not to me, at least. On the bright side, I got to see a lot of the countryside that I wouldn't have seen otherwise.

My Sunday was also spent in the north part of the island. Last week a guy from work that has been helping me out a ton invited me to spend a day at the castle ruins (I didn't actually see any ruins). He cautioned me, with a raised eyebrow, "I'm gonna have the kids."

The park itself was pretty amazing. It had to have easily been over 100 acres, with dozens of trails and multiple parks with playground equipment "for the kids." Yeah, right. One of the parks had the craziest equipment I have ever seen: climbing nets, zip lines, a 50m slide with built in rollers (insanely fast), log walls, and more S.W.A.T. style training obstacles. It was like a baby ninja training camp.

While at the park, I spent about 30 minutes doing the adult thing of talking with the kids' dad (about work things, no less) and eating Pocky Sticks. After that I made up an excuse about how one of the kids might have been stuck half way a giant tube made of steel and net (that actually made a loop-de-loop) and that I should go help. Forty-five minutes, two games of monster, and one pair of stained and ripped shorts later, I had been on every ride at least twice and had made three small but energetic friends.



The rest of the day entailed walking some of the hiking trails and drinking lots of lemon iced tea. Later that evening, after having dinner at their house, I was completely drained. My hats off to all parents out there. Kids, especially at the ages of 3, 5 (and a half, don't forget), and almost 8, don't ever stop moving. I don't think I could have used more energy had I ran a marathon that day. I had a blast.

In other exciting news, a China Airlines plane burst into a ball of flame on the runway at Naha International Airport, about 30 miles from here. Interestingly enough, I am supposed to take that same flight in exactly two weeks from today. I really hope they have an extra plane in reserve for us. It's times like those that I really feel guilty that I often get the exit row, but rarely read the instructions on how to use the door. Everyone made it out alive, so it seems not everyone is unable to tear themselves away from the 36" baseball bat flashlight or inflatable travel Jacuzzis in Skymall during the safety demonstration like I am.