Dutch Tulips & Japanese Porcelain

(As always, click on the images for larger versions.) MM and I headed out on Friday, March 23 to Huis Ten Bosch (click to visit their website), a huge, local amusemsent park. Unlike American amusement parks, there are no roller coasters, no "rides" (except a single, gorgeous merry-go-round), no midway games. Instead, Huis Ten Bosch is a huge Dutch village set incongruously on the coast of Japan, surrounded by typical Japanese mountains. I'd say it's a model of a city, but the owners are selling "canal-side housing" and hope to make it a viable community of 10,000 eventually (as well as an admission-charging place of entertainment).

There are museums, several shows, hundreds of thousands of tulips, windmills, restaurants, canals and shops. There are boat rides along the canals and out into the harbor, photo opportunities with costumed characters (think "Hello Kitty" as a giant cartoon tulip), and a huge fireworks and laser show every night. From what I understand, Huis Ten Bosch also has wine tastings and cheese festivals. (Click here for a .pdf brochure detailing current events at Huis Ten Bosch.) It really isn't a place I thought I'd visit, as I'm here to see Japan, not a reproduction of The Netherlands...but I was very pleasantly surprised.

Our first stop was the Teddy Bear Museum (see the giant floral teddy bear topiary beside MM's head!) I figured it would be cheesy and cutesy, but it was fascinating, with teddy bears and toys from all over the world, from the 1800s to the present, from simple children's toys to artistic concepts never meant to be played with. The first stairway was lined with bear-themed antique postcards, and the hallways between the various exhibits held framed photographs of the teddies of famous people. Though MM and I often enjoy some of the same things, we also often have very different ideas about what is "interesting"...and we each found much to hold our interest.

The flowers that day were really spectacular -- huge blocks of astonishing color, the banks of tulips much as I'd always imagined them to look like in The Netherlands (though of course on a smaller scale!) MM and I wandered slowly, stopping for a "cheese shake" (a tangy blend of fruit and some sort of cream cheese...rich but not cloying). MM explored the first big windmill we came to, as it's been outfitted as a windmill museum (he explored several spots without me, as my knee was really giving me fits that day).

I didn't realize M.C. Escher was Dutch, but he was...and there was a fascinating building filled with Escher-esqe paintings, mirrors and architecture. Pretty mind-bending! We stopped in to watch a short Escher movie, which was very interesting. It was written and produced by a Japanese film studio, and was a very Japanese story called "The Legend of the Waterfall." The story seemed to revolve around a little Dutch girl with blonde braids overcoming all sorts of Escher-type obstacles to find her dog and find her way home. I'm not really positive, as the whole thing was in Japanese. Oh, and it was a 3-D movie, complete with 3-D glasses, so the Escher-type creatures flew at the viewer, and water flowed into our laps, and a glowing sphere of water began and ended the movie. (???) For example, one of Escher's black and white woodcuts (?) is a series of black and white blocks that "morph" into different shapes. At one point in this piece of art, the black shapes are demon/bat creatures and the white shapes are angels. So...in the movie, there is a black and white tile floor that begins to morph into the different Escher creatures...and the demon bat creatures fly out to attack the child. Her ingenuity somehow helps her fend them off, and the glowing angel creatures come to help her and bestow blessings upon her. The angels are complete with wings and halos, yet are somehow "spirit creatures" rather than Christian angels, even though they look like the angels on a Christmas tree...after all, Japan is not a Christian country. At the end, the child makes it to the magical city in the clouds, with Escher's impossible waterfalls flowing all around it. She gets her dog back, and flies home to live happily ever after. It was a very bizarre movie, very confusing...and lots of fun!! The whole experience was very Japanese...when the movie ended, everyone got up and politely and quietly filed out the doors at the bottom of the theatre, carefully depositing their 3-D glasses in recycling bins beside bowing attendants.

MM and I continued to explore, walking around the stables to look at the HUGE black draft horses, posing with the fluffy giant tulip mascot, pausing for a panini lunch (panini, in a Dutch amusement park, in Japan...talk about a cultural mix!), peering through a big freestanding, empty gilded frame that looked out over the flower gardens spread out in a riot of color -- seems one can take a photo of the frame and flower gardens, so it looks like a framed painting of the flowers. We stopped at the carillon museum, which was astonishing, with an absolutely amazing holographic video of little bell-crafting gnomes explaining the history of carillon bells (in Japanese). There were carillon bells from around the world, including several from the 12th century! They were not behind glass, and were within inches of us...we were simply admonished not to touch by discreet signs in several languages, and trusted to obey. It was a struggle, but I managed to keep my fingers off the bells! There was a huge working replica of a giant carillon there in the museum, standing two stories high, along with various "keyboards" like an organ, with each key and pedal connected by a cable to a bell. It was incredibly intricate, and incredibly interesting! MM enjoyed the music box "Fantasia" museum and show, which he said was fascinating. I skipped it due to lots of steps and the knee issue again, but next time, I'll have to check it out.

We enjoyed a porcelain museum, displaying some of the most highly-respected Japanese porcelain work and discussing the history of the Dutch influence and Dutch trade. The glass museum was an almost overwhelming display of mirrors and chandeliers and cut glass pieces, complete with a small, dimly lit "wedding chapel" on the top floor, with really amazing individual pieces glittering and glowing in the darkness from their solitary displays around the circumference of the room. We stopped in a gift shop that seemed to have half dedicated to Escher memorabilia, souvenirs and toys, and the other half dedicated to a men's clothing shop. I stumbled upon some really wonderful t-shirts celebrating the anniversary of Commodore Perry's visit to Japan, complete with a sketch of Perry's unsmiling face, and a cartoon speech balloon emanating from his mouth, printed with a cheery "Hello!" It made me laugh, imagining the imposing Black Ships steaming into Tokyo harbor, a somber Perry coming out onto the deck...and suddenly waving and shouting out a high pitched "Hello! Hello! Hello!" the way the Japanese schoolchildren shout it at me when they see me. With MM's urging, I shamefacedly explained to the saleswoman through charades and a few words of English that I was a direct descendant of Perry. She got so excited she was practically in tears, and insisted on taking several photographs of me with her cell phone!

MM and I enjoyed a wonderful Japanese meal in one of Huis Ten Bosch's many restaurants -- we each had a beautiful lacquerware compartmentalized box filled with beautifully presented eel, sashimi, pickle, egg custard, squid, tempura and spring vegetables. I'm so sorry my camera battery died early in the day, as the presentation was really lovely. After enjoying our leisurely meal, we strolled a little longer, ending up at the docks in the dark admiring the strings of tiny twinkling lights on the rigging of the reproduction sailing ships. I ended up not being able to resist temptation, and bought some mouth-blown, locally-made glass sake cups while MM perused the glassware, porcelain and many bottles of shochu on display. We'd hoped to stay for the nightly fireworks display, but the cool air and our aching feet dictated we head back to the car. Neither of us realized how far we'd walked from the entrance, and making our way back through the rapidly emptying streets became a real test! I was worried that we were headed for a "closed" entrance, as towards the end, we were the ONLY people visible...but MM's optimism kept us going, and we finally made our way out. Just before we reached the car, the fireworks began, and we were able to see a little bit of them through the trees before retrieving my car and heading home.

The next morning, after an omelette breakfast, we headed to the NEX on the base to get some good walking shoes for MM before pointing the car towards the Arita porcelain area. We paused for a lunch of deliciously garlicky ramen and another (failed) attempt to teach MM to overcome his American good manners and slurp his noodles properly. I can slurp them now with gusto, but still haven't mastered how to slurp without flicking the tip of my nose with the end of the drippy noodles!

We spent a lovely afternoon in Arita. We stopped at the Gen-emon kiln and showroom, which has been running for over 400 years, owned by the same family for all that time. We drove through the twisty main street of old Arita itself. I parked the car, and despite the rain, MM donned his rain suit and went out into the wet, looking like a skinny Michelin Man (no, that's not what MM stands for!), with a gleam in his eye to explore, finding the various shrines and temples built by the porcelain artists and potters and poking his head into various shops while I caught up on some paperwork in the car. (I know, I'm boring! But more about Arita later, as I have photos from my trip there with Mom and Bro!)

After MM returned from exploring in the rain, we headed back to Sasebo. Even though it was rainy, the long shopping arcade is roofed, so I knew we could walk around without dealing with the wet. We walked for a while, glancing into several shops and pausing at my favorite fruit vendor's stall for some fresh loquats, fragrant strawberries, and an odd, small, oval, yellow melon with a floral fragrance (it turned out to be sweet like a honeydew, but rather bland...not as delicately perfumed inside as it seemed from the outside).

Dinner was at my favorite tempura place, which is a tiny little room up steep wooden stairs, containing a horseshoe-shaped wooden bar surrounding the cook's station, and not much else. It's run by an elegant, silver-haired gentleman, a pretty middle-aged woman, and a young woman who runs out with rice, miso soup, pickles and drinks. I think the three of them are a family, but I'm not sure. We enjoyed various pieces of tempura made right there on the spot in front of us -- shrimp, squid, various vegetables -- incredibly light and delicious, dipped in lemon salt, green tea (matcha) salt, or a light sweet/salty tempura sauce. My favorite is the lemon salt...it's amazing! MM decided he wanted to try the potato shochu. We were both surprised when he was brought a very large pottery tumbler full of ice and potent shochu! I had a small sip, and it tasted to me like a mellow, slightly less strong version of vodka, but with that same metallic/organic aftertaste that sake always seems to have on my palate. That night, MM wanted to watch "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" but after the first thirty minutes, I think our adventures caught up with him, and he decided he was too tired to watch it all (it's a pretty involved movie, and you have to pay close attention!) so he headed to bed. I headed to sleep myself not too long after he did!

The next day after breakfast, I took MM to the train station so he could head to Nagasaki for an overnight on his own. He'll have to write his own adventure about his time there! Monday evening, I picked him up from the station, and took him to tonkatsu dinner (I've written before about tonkatsu, which is the breaded, fried pork cutlet that one dips in a sauce one makes from ground sesame seeds and a fruity sauce similiar to A-1). Tuesday we were off again, early for me (ha!) to head to Hirado Island and Ikitsuki Island.

Our adventures of Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday (3/27 - 3/29) to come in the next day or two...Hirado Island, Ikitsuki Island, Senryu Falls, the amazing Unzen, Shimabara Castle...and more!

Showing Off "My" Japan

I'm sorry it's been such a long time since my last post. I'm so busy having adventures that it's hard to find time to write about them! As always, click on the images for larger photos.

Even though I've still got things to write about from last summer and fall (Thanksgiving, meeting various porcelain artists, the Yosakoi festival, a parade I happened upon one day, etc.), I want to give you a glimpse into more recent events, as they are (of course) fresher in my mind. But trust me, I'm keeping notes, so eventually you will hear about it all.

On March 19, my friend (and mentor and ex-employer and author-for-whom-I-design-books) MM came to Japan to visit. His plan was to spend three weeks in this beautiful country, with the first nine or ten days spent based in Sasebo, visiting me. Due to a miscommunication (and a stomach bug) on my end of things, we didn't meet up until the 21st, when I took the train to Fukuoka to escort him back to Sasebo. The train trip was pleasant, as always, as we rode alongside the incredibly green rice paddies and through long tunnels cut through the abrupt and shaggy mountains. Luckily, MM is as adventurous as I am, so when he said he could probably eat something just before we boarded our train (standing in obedient lines--no clustering or shoving here!), I jumped out of the line to purchase a bento lunch at the little food kiosk there on the train platform. I had no idea what specifically was in that particular bento, but I was reasonably sure it would have something from the standard range of rice and pickles, with perhaps shreds of omelette (tamago) or bits of mushroom or pieces of fish. I think it was a great introduction to Japanese life for MM , as we shared the mushroom-studded rice and bits of Japanese pickle (no fork, of course, only chopsticks), and watched the countryside slide by.

That evening, we headed out to Fearless Husband's favorite curry restaurant, Coco Ichibanya (it was FH's last night at home for a while). I'd worried at first that it was a little too "chain-restaurant-with-plastic-booths" for a guest, but decided that MM would have plenty of chances in Japan to go to fancier restaurants, and this was the sort of place that Japanese families frequent on a regular basis...this was the REAL Japan. FH got his usual level 6 or 7 (I don't remember which...either one will blow away mere mortals with powerful heat!) and I got my tamer-but-still-spicy level 3. I think MM got the level 2, and even that was a little much for him! (Note to self: start visitors out with a level 0 or 1, unless you KNOW they're chili-heads!) However, despite the heat, it was a fun evening, talking and laughing and catching up, and showing MM various little things about Japanese life. For example...I hang onto the o-shibori (wet cloth) we're given at the start of a meal, because there usually aren't napkins -- and if there are, they tend to be not-very-absorbent little scraps of tissue -- and I always, ALWAYS need something to wipe my face/hands/shirt/table with...the waiter seats you and gives you menus, but does not come back to the table to bug you ("Ya'll ready to order yet?? *heavy sigh*) until you push a little button to ring a bell...curry in Japan is a saucy, messy dish, and simply can't be eaten with chopsticks, so large spoons are provided, and it's expected that you will use them (much to MM and FH's relief!)

The next morning, I took FH to the ship and said my goodbyes (*sniffle*) and headed back to the house. MM and I had breakfast, and ended up sitting on the kitchen floor (I know...weird!) and yakking away for a couple of hours, catching up on several years of adventures for each of us. Finally, we got our acts together, and headed out the door. We went to Kashimae Pier to enjoy the spectacular weather -- cool breezes, blue skies and bright sunshine. After woodfired pizzas at Pinocchio's (sounds Italian, but with the various mushrooms and seafood, they were very Japanese-influenced Italian!) we strolled the docks, and MM (of course) ended up discovering some really spectacular architecture sort of hidden away, almost as if the architect had designed the building for his own pleasure. We decided to take the hour-long Kujukushima (literally 99 Islands) cruise around the 208 or so little islands in the harbor. I took a late-afternoon cruise on my own last fall, and it was really beautiful...but it was hazy, and the sun was setting, sending long shadows into the various hollows. This cruise was quite different, with the bright sun, flags snapping in the wind, intensely turquoise water and wind and wave-scoured rocks. We speculated on the various kinds of aquaculture around us (found out later it's almost all oyster farming), and pointed out particularly Japanese-looking twisted pines and interesting wind-scuplted embankments to each other. The first time I took the cruise, the recorded announcements were in Japanese and Australian-accented English. I guess that day there were more English-speakers on board than just me...this time, with MM, we seemed to be the only non-Asians on board, but there were many Chinese tourists, and a tour group from Taiwan. So, the announcements were in Japanese and Chinese...no English at all. Oh well! However, I knew from prior experience that the captions on the illustrated map of the islands were almost identical to the announcements, so we weren't missing much -- and it was interesting to realize that I can now REALLY tell the difference between spoken Japanese, spoken Chinese and spoken Korean. They all used to sound alike to my American ears, but now they're as different as German and French!

After the cruise, we wanderered a little more, and MM suggested the aquarium and shipping museum. As much as I love aquariums, for some reason, I'd never felt particularly drawn to this one. But our cruise tickets entitled us to a reduced admission, so off we went. The place was near empty, but in this land of virtually no unemployment, there were two employees at the ticket desk, and two more to bow and welcome us into the museum itself. I was pleasantly surprised at both the shipping museum and at the aquarium. Both were quite small, but both were really beautifully designed, with a great deal of fascinating information. Though most of the signs were not in English, there were little green boxes on pedestals scattered throughout the shipping museum. One picked up the single padded earphone and held it to one's ear, and hit the appropriate button on the box (English, Japanese, Chinese, Korean) to hear a recorded spiel about that particular exhibit. There were astonishingly beautiful wooden models and cros-sections of ships and hulls, a scale-model of a Japanese merchant ship that one can walk through, a reproduction of a portion of a Viking longboat (along with a very funny horn-hatted Viking mannequin with a bushy red moustache), a dugout canoe, a timeline of the various boat types through the ages and how each developed (dugouts, reed/rush canoes, etc.) and more. It was really fascinating!

The aquarium was very small, but equally wonderful. The first exhibit I came to was a large table covered in shallow plastic pans, with two plump, grinning grandmother-types with head kerchiefs and rubber gloves. It looked like a temporary craft area for kids, but it was an oyster table, and for 500 yen (about $4) one could purchase an oyster with a cultivated pearl inside, open it then and there with the provided tools, and take home an opalescent shell half and a real (cultured) pearl in pink, black, gold or white (the color was the main "surprise" as each oyster was guaranteed to have a pearl). MM had gone on ahead, so I succumbed to touristy, childlike temptation and plopped into a folding chair, handing over my 500 yen. The two old ladies gave me a glove for my left hand (that was a Charlie Chaplin moment, as the two tried to put the glove on my hand FOR me, at the same time, stuffing my fingers every which way and snapping the latex against my wrist, arguing in Japanese!) Then I was handed an oyster -- very different from the tough, lumpy, granite-colored oysters I'm used to. This one was bronze-colored, with a tear-drop rounded, delicate shell, flanged on one side where the hinge was. I inserted the oyster knife, and tried to follow the pantomime of my two helpers as they contradicted each other, lectured me in smiling Japanese and eventually grabbed my hands to "guide" me in forcing the hinge apart. I sat back for the ride, letting them manipulate the oyster, the knife, and both of my hands. Satisfied that I'd done it right (with their help), they handed me a long pair of tweezers. MM came up at that point, to find me gleefully digging for the pearl, the two ladies laughing at my efforts. Finally, out popped a perfect, luminous white pearl -- really surprising me as it suddenly surfaced in the grey mucous of the oyster like the moon rising from a swamp. The ladies gasped with surprise and pleasure, and I beamed happily. Whether it was real or, as I strongly suspect, part of their act, they seemed to imply that MY pearl was one of the BEST pearls, and I was supremely lucky. They took it from me, wiped it clean, tucked it in a tiny cellophane bag with a clean (not splintered by three sets of hands) irridescent oyster-shell half, tied the top prettily with a piece of gold ribbon, and ceremoniously presented me with my treasure. Silly? Sure. But I had so much fun!

Off to the next exhibit we went. I was enjoying the brightly lit tanks of colorful saltwater fish set into the fake rock walls of the darkened "cave tunnel" hallway, when I gasped in shock and surprise. Right beside a waist-high exhibit of vivid tropical fish was a tank that reached to the floor level...and my toes were about an inch of glass away from a huge tangle of vicious-looking moray eels in semi-darkness. Wow...THAT was a powerful juxtaposition! Their tangled bodies were each quite a bit thicker than my arm, and their jutting jaws seemed full of malicious intent. I couldn't tear my eyes away from them for a long time....the way their tank seemed to be a long, rock-walled tunnel from ceiling to floor really added to the feeling of secretive and powerful danger. Then movement caught my eye, and I was immediately drawn to the next exhibit...a huge tank taller than my head with a thick "arm" that jutted out into the room. Recorded gull cries and waves echoed as I stood, fascinated, first staring into a school of silvery fish moving flashing and moving like one sparkling creature instead of hundreds of tiny individuals...then absolutely captivated by several HUGE sea turtles swimming majestically by me, only a couple of inches away from my outstretched fingers. I could've stood there and stared all day. There were other exhibits, of course...glowing, tiny jellyfish pulsing with slow grace to move their impossible, transparent bodies...tanks of pufferfish and luminescent lionfish...a large "touch pool" of urchins and crabs and whelks...tank after tank of astonishingly-colored live corals and aenemones. I'll definitely be going back!

Afterwards, we wandered through the touristy shops in the "cruise terminal", looking over the various items that are specifically "Sasebonian", such as biwa (loquat) pies and jellies, and various bottles of sake and shochu. We bought a little biwa pie for dessert later, and a bottle of shochu, and headed home. Our supposedly "slow paced day of relaxation" was surprisingly tiring for us both! We shared some shochu at home, along with a quick dinner of kielbasa/cabbage/onion/apple, and then were both more than ready to sleep!

Next up: our trip to Huis Ten Bosch!

A trio of videos (I have sharper versions, so let me know if you want me to send you the higher resolution versions):

A Silvery School

Sea Turtle

Jellies

Floating Altars Everywhere

(Edited August 14 to add a few photos from Emiri!)

I know, I'm woefully behind! But FH is home, and the preparations for his return and the fact of his return do give me some leeway, I hope! Here is "the rest of the story" of Emiri's wonderful visit. Click on the images for larger versions.

On Thursday, Emiri still needed to find Sasebo City/Nagasaki Prefecture-specific gifts (preferably food) to take back to her friends in Okinawa. So, we headed out to Kashimae Pier and the Sea Pearl Resort. Kashimae Pier is the "jumping off point" for the 99 Islands (really there are 208, depending on the tides, but it's more poetic the other way, I guess!) If you've seen the opening 30 seconds of "The Last Samurai", you've seen the 99 Islands--they're really lovely.

First, we wandered through the gift shops. We discovered that the area where I live is famous for loquats (also known as biwi), a small orange tropical fruit. To me, it tastes like a cross between apricot and mango. There were lots and lots of different loquat pastries, loquats in jelly, loquat mochi (rice paste balls), loquat caramels...even funny little plastic loquat charms with smiling faces on teeny leashes, to hang from one's cell phone! (Yes, I now have two fat, grinning little plastic loquats dangling from my mint-green phone, although you can only see one of them, along with my little transparent green frog. Em has a miniature version of the Japanese fishing floats, made by her friend in Okinawa.) Loquats are considered unusual, because they flower in the fall or early winter, and produce their fruit in late winter or early spring.

I find the selection of "gifts" in these little shops to be fascinating--pickles of all kinds, dried squid, raw squid, dried fish of all kinds, and lots and lots of cute but useless plastic "charms". Emiri got lots of special attention, due to her great skills with the Japanese language. I'm so in awe of her! Even before she speaks, she draws people to her, with her smile and her attitude. After a brief walk along the pier in the beautiful sunshine, we enjoyed lunch at an Italian restaurant (Japanicized, of course!) on the pier. I tried Calpis, a very lightly carbonated, opaque white soda. It's supposed to have a lot of calcium, and had a very mildly sweet, slightly chalky taste. It was interesting, and I rather liked it, despite the fact that the name sounds like something vulgar in English!

Then we parked the car, and headed for Fukuoka on the train. This time, we got off at the right station! We took a taxi to a part of Fukuoka called Hakata, to the Kushida Shrine (built in 757 AD), and enjoyed wandering around. Though most shrines have similar features, there is always something distinctive about each one, and this one was no exception!

Kushida Shrine oversees the Hakata Yamakasa festival, which originated in 1241, when a Buddhist priest named Souichi Kokushi was carried through the town on a platform, from which he sprinkled holy water to eradicate evil spirits responsible for a plague that had struck the town. The festival takes place from July 1-15 every year, and the climax, Oiyama, begins at 4:59am on the last day. On Oiyama, a drum signals the start to the first kakiyama, a one-ton "race float" shouldered by a team sometimes numbering over a hundred men. The team carries the float, sort of like a giant portable altar, on a five kilometer route through the streets of Hakata. Six more kakiyama follow, each one hoping for the best time on the 5K route. The seven nagare (teams) are drawn from more than 10 areas within Hakata, and can be distinguished by the different patterns of cloth used to make their happi. Each team of bearers has special short coats (mizu happi) made of the team fabric, sort of like a team uniform to be worn while carrying the floats, and matching long robes (naga happi) that they wear at other times during the festival. The various team members have different roles and responsibilities, indicated by different colored head cloths.

There are special traditions associated with Hakata Kamakasa. For example, participants must not eat cucumber during the entire festival period, becasue the Kushida Shrine crest resembles the cross-section of a cucumber. Also, all team members are forbidden from having sex during this time, so as to save their "life force" for carrying the one-ton kakiyama. It's considered an honor to be allowed to participate, and the participants take the various rituals and traditions very seriously. During the 15-day festival period, the whole Hakata district is the festival site, with the kakiyama on display, as well as the kazariyama, which are insanely tall "decorative" floats. The altar floats made to be carried are made of heavy wood hung all over with gleaming golden plaques and decorations. (Please forgive the bad photo of the kakiyama--they were in a dark "garage" and I could only take a photo through the glass, my camera was dying, and that was the only image that even came close to turning out. I'm sorry!) The decorative kazariyama are decorated with figures ranging from samurai warriors to cartoon characters. The one on display at the Kushida Shrine was fascinating, covered with lifesized figures, with vibrant colors and lots of sparkling silver and gold.

There was also a memorial to the forefather of modern Japanese theatre, Kawakami Otojiro-no Kishinhi (1864-1912). He was the first to bring Shakespeare to Japan, and the first to stage productions of plays for children. I was thrilled to find the little memorial plaque at the back of the shrine itself!

Then Em and I set out to find the Hakata Machiya Folk Museum, which was much easier said than done! We walked for a while in one direction...nothing. Consulting the little guidebook map and the very vaguely placed "this is it" red dot, we tried another direction. Nothing. We stopped a man about to get into his car, and Em asked directions. He offered to take us there in his car, but we demurred. So he grabbed a rock, squatted in the street, and drew a map for us on the pavement! Hurray, we've got it! So we head back in the direction from which we came. And walked. And walked. Arrgh--nothing! We stopped again, this time at a shop filled with American-style t-shirts and jeans, and Emiri worked her magic in Japanese again. Ok, back we go. Finally, we found it...about half a block from the Kushida Shrine! Our search was frustrating and sweaty, but ended up being worth the trouble, at least to me. If Em didn't think so, she was generous to keep it to herself.

The museum was small, but interesting. We wandered through the little exhibit building, where I learned much of the information about the Hakata Kamakasa festival and the floats we'd seen at the shrine! They had miniature dioramas, and a bank of old fashioned phones for visitors to listen to the "funny Hakata dialect." Of course, those didn't do anything for me, since I can't tell the difference between one Japanese dialect and another!

There were some absolutely amazing fabrics on display that looked sort of like batiks or tie-dye...the fabric of some looked as if it had been stitched very carefully in a specific gathered pattern, dyed with the deep indigo dye, and the stitches taken out once the fabric was dried. I could not read the Japanese that explained the exhibit, so my guess may be wrong. Regardless, they were really lovely. I believe these are the fabrics used for the naga happi and mizu happi of the altar float teams.

There was also a series of life-sized dioramas depicting a shop and a home at the turn of the century, complete with appropriately-dressed mannequins. There were displays of other local crafts as well, such as the Hakata dolls, Hakata-ori and Hakata shibori textiles, Hakata magemono (cylindrical boxes made from thin sheets of wood bent into shape), heisuke brushes (for calligraphy and painting), hariko (bobble-head animal figures made in a medium similar to paper maiche), multi-colored worked glass similar to Murano glass, fighting tops (a totally different shape than the tops Sasebo is famous for making), and famous Hakata scissors. Unfortunately, we were too late for any of the many demonstrations of these fascinating crafts, and for the chikusen-biwa Japanese lute playing.

The other part of the museum (Maichiya Hall) was a relocated and restored Hakata-ori textile-weaver's house from the Meiji and Taisho eras (turn of the 20th century). The building itself is long and narrow, with the tatami rooms on either side of the central hallway built to become larger towards the back, in a fan shape for good luck. In the center of the main room, the ceiling opened up, giving a sudden impression of space and light. The main pillar of the house (the daikoku-bashira, representing the head of the household and his strength) was intricately carved, and soared up in the space. The hall was fascinating, with several very intricate looms and displays of astoundingly complex woven fabrics. I was so sad that we'd missed the demonstration, as I wanted to see how the big loom worked. There was a long loop like a conveyor belt of wooden plaques, each with a different pattern of holes. I think that somehow, the holes in each plaque help direct the heddles of the loom, each plaque moving into place for a different part of the pattern, kind of like a player piano's paper scroll. But I am not sure, and I want to see it in action! Unfortunately, they were closing, and so I snapped several photos, and we had to head out.

We headed back towards the train station, trying to catch a taxi as we walked (we were pretty far away!) Despite the humidity, I enjoyed the walk, looking in shop windows and people-watching. Though I thought Sasebo seemed like a pretty big city to me, I now understand why it's considered sort of small-town and rural, despite its 300,000 residents. Fukuoka is very much more "big city", with tall buildings and modern shops, and fewer old-fashioned Japanese storefronts. I got another sense of what a premium is put on space in this country, as I passed a parking lot. The lot consisted of a relatively small footprint, but had "racks" on which each car was driven. The rack was then raised until it was almost touching the rack holding the car above, and another car was driven in and raised. I've never seen so many vehicles crammed horizontally and vertically into such a small space! I guess that's another reason for the intense and very expensive car inspection required every two years...I sure wouldn't want the car above mine leaking oil or transmission fluid or whatever onto the roof or hood of my car! Thanks to Emiri for the photo.

We finally got a taxi, and got back to the train station. We grabbed a quick bite to eat in the station itself, which, like many Japanese train stations, was like a shopping mall, filled with stalls and shops and restaurants. Then Emiri headed on the short trip to the Fukuoka airport to fly back to Okinawa, and I headed for the train back home to Sasebo. Even that experience was interesting! The platforms were crowded with people headed home after the workday. In the US, the crowds would swarm towards the doors as the train pulled in, shoving and jockeying for position. Not so in Japan! Every few feet was a mark on the pavement to show where the doors would be when the train stopped . At each mark was a single line of people, snaking carefully so that no line intersected any other line, and no line blocked the pathway up and down the platform. It was amazing--everyone knew what to do and where to stand, no one was pushing, no one behaved as if he or she were more important than anyone else or in more of a hurry.

I didn't know where my particular mark was (some cars are "first come, first serve", other cars are "reserved seat only", and I had a reserved seat. So I excused myself and asked a fellow traveller where I needed to be, with my few words of Japanese, some charades, and my out-thrust ticket. She smiled, bowed, chattered in Japanese, and gestured down the platform. In the next line someone looked up and saw what was happening. She beckoned to me, smiling...so I went to her. She looked at my ticket, smiled, bowed, spoke to me in Japanese, and pointed me to the next line, where a young man beckoned me to come to him. This went on from line to line down the row, until I was at the appropriate mark...then I was handed down the line to my spot at the end. It was very funny! Rather than gesture to me to go down eight lines to find mine, my fellow passengers took the bakka gaijin (idiot foreigner) in hand and gently herded me to my place. I loved it!

Emiri's visit was quite short, but despite my propensity for running late, we still managed to cram an awful lot into three days! I hope she can come back again, and I hope to get a chance to visit her in Okinawa. In the meantime, she was a very tolerant guinea pig, as I discovered where I can take visitors to Sasebo. Thanks, Em, for being such a fantastic, easy-going and fun guest!

Walls of Stone, Roof-Top Fish, & Plenty of Stairs

My cousin Emiri and her husband are stationed in Okinawa. Emiri's husband was away in Florida doing Secret Squirrel stuff for the Army, so Emiri came to visit me for a few days. For those of you who don't know, I'm the oldest grandchild, and Emiri is one of the youngest. Age-wise, she could be my daughter if I'd started early! But despite the age difference (or maybe because of it!) I really enjoy her company.

Emiri has been in Okinawa for about a year and a half, and she loves it! She started learning Japanese in January, and she puts me to absolute shame. She's not only able to speak a LOT of Japanese, she can read and write in hiragana and katakana, and is learning kanji! She even e-mails her Japanese friends in Japanese on her little Japanese cell phone. She's just amazing!

I went to pick her up in Fukuoka on May 22. I was nervous about driving directions and dealing with parking (I have a parking phobia, dunno why!), so I took the bus. Emiri met me at the International terminal, complete with gifts from Okinawa. It's the Japanese custom to always bring gifts when visiting, and to take gifts home to your friends when you return. Usually, the gifts are something to eat (yeah, just what I need!) and preferably something specific to the area. Em brought me wonderful pineapple pastries and purple sweet potato pastries (both pineapple and purple sweet potatoes are specific to Oki). She even had a gift for my friend Miyuki, as she knew we'd be seeing Miyuki at least once during Em's visit. We took the bus back to Sasebo in the rain, talking nonstop and catching up on life. That evening we spent at home, looking at photos Emiri brought of her birthday with her Japanese friends (amazing..check out her blog at http://emiriinoki.blogspot.com for more!), having a glass of wine, and generally getting to know one another again!

The next day, we headed to Kumamoto by train. We got sort of a late start, but that's par for the course when you get women in our family together, I guess. We might have gotten to Kumamoto earlier, but we both panicked and got off the train one stop too early--I think the station before ours was called Kama-Kumamoto, and we should have waited for just plain Kumamoto. So we waited for the next train, and eventually got to the right place. Once in Kumamoto, we got on the streetcar and headed for Kumamoto Castle. We bought "day passes" on the street car, but it turned out we would've been better off to just get regular tickets, as we ended up not using the streetcar again until the end of the day to get back to the train station. Oh well...hindsight's 20/20!

We walked for a while, and I was beginning to regret the adventure, as it was very humid and sticky. But then the castle grounds and the statue of Kato Kiyomasa appeared ahead, and a cool breeze seemed to hurry us along. From a distance the statue made me smile. The tall commander's hat and bowed legs made the figure look a little like a garden gnome. When we got closer though, we read the plaque, and discovered the figure was the feudal lord who built Kumamoto Castle between 1600 and 1607 A.D. He is sculpted wearing snake-eye patterned armor, a battle surcoat, bellflower patterned footwear, and holding a fan. Nope, the fan isn't just a pretty accessory--it signifies battle command. Kiyomasa was equally famous for his prowess in war, castle construction and civil engineering (as we were about to witness!)

The castle and the castle walls were simply amazing. Kumamoto Castle is one of the "three great castles of Japan." The castle itself perched high on the hill (anything worthwhile in Japan is worth climbing to achieve...). It wasn't the fantasy Bavarian/Disney tower I always envision when I hear the word "castle", nor the heavy medieval fortress. Instead, it was a layer-cake of wood and plaster, with the ubiquitous upturned roof corners of Japan. On either end of the roof rested huge, curled fish decorations called shachihoko, which are legendary dolphin-like roof decorations throughout Japan. They ward off bad luck, especially fire (a big fear in a country of wooden structures!) But there was nothing flimsy or precious about the castle--the whole structure was definitely masculine, and though it was created with an eye for beauty, it was definitely a case of "form follows function." This was a FORTRESS. The stone walls are absolutely huge, and sharply sloped to repell invaders--and there is no mortar! The construction was fascinating, and beautiful.

The plaques on the grounds were fascinating as well, explaining about the "Six Flowers of Kumamoto", the 600-year-old cinnamon camphora trees, and the samurai ideals that encouraged warriors to be as well versed in things such things as botany, poetry and the tea ceremony as they were in the art of warfare. The "Six Flowers" were developed in the 18th century, when the feudal lord Hosokawa Shigekata encouraged his retainers to take up gardening for their "spiritual education." A pursuit of the samurai, care and propagation methods for these flowers were handed down for generations, and several of the species in the garden have never been cross-bred, and remain genetically pure. (Sounds a little like Japanese isolationist politics to me!)

After exploring the grounds, we decided to go inside the castle itself. The courtyard was awash with school groups, each group in a different uniform. I've never seen so many variations on a navy blue school uniform! There was almost no male-female interaction though. The girls hung all over other girls, and the boys hung all over other boys, wrestling, hugging, standing with arms around each other--not at all in a sexual fashion, more uninhibited and innocent. It was the sort of behavior I expect to see in American kindergarteners, not in junior high school students. Some groups were waiting to go into the castle, others were waiting as small groups visited the souvenir shop, still others were making pyramids or careful sitting/kneeling/standing rows for class photographs, with the castle as the backdrop. They were boisterous and happy, giggling and hanging on one another, but exceedingly well-behaved. I flashed back to our flight into Japan, back in January. I can't imagine seeing that many American students in one place behave so well, with so few adults to hold order!

When M and I went into the castle to brave the steps, one skinny little girl elbowed her way through her classmates and spoke directly to M in Japanese. At first, M thought the child was asking for M to take a photograph of the child...then she realized the student wanted a photo taken of herself WITH the American tourist! We're in a relatively rural area of Japan, and M supposed the students don't see many Americans. How cool that M could communicate with the child--in Japanese! I think that student was the star of her class for the rest of the day! The stairs up to each level were divided into an "up" lane and a "down" lane, and for the rest of the afternoon, every time we passed this particular group of schoolgirls, they all shouted "Hello! Hello!" and waved at M and me.

I didn't think the inside would be very interesting at first, as there are few windows, but the inside was made into a museum. We weren't sure how high we would climb, but we didn't have much choice..once one starts up, there is no way to get into the "down lane" of the stairs without going up at least four floors. Well, we could've crawled under the chains, but it would've been awkward, and who wants to disobey the rules in front of all those students? So up we went. There was a huge, scale model of the whole castle on display, and another larger model consisting of several rooms. A mirror was positioned so the viewer could see the hand-painted ceiling squares, each a different flower and beautifully executed. Unfortunately, my photo turned out badly.

Another level housed displays of samurai armor, and the insanely small, ornate gilded boxes that were the litters for the high-born ladies. They were about as big as my cat carrier, but much more beautiful. We peeked out an open window (more of a levered-out shutter) and the view was spectacular. When one spends so much time driving through the crowded, narrow streets, sometimes one forgets about the amazing vistas and views, with the lumpy volcanic mountains that are so very "Japanese".

We finally climbed down from the tower and made our way back out to the street. It was pretty late, so we hurried to try to get to the Folk Art Museum and Natsume Soseki's house, which M really wanted to see, as she'd studied his writings in college. Unfortunately, both were already closed! I snapped a couple of shots of M looking despondent beside the house's sign, and we went in search of food, weary and footsore.

A bowl of meat and rice helped immensely, and we wandered briefly through the big shopping arcade on our way back to the streetcar line. M decided she wanted something sweet, so she went off to hunt down a banana popsicle-type thing. I waited on a bench, and was approached by two Japanese women. I wasn't sure what they wanted, but one spoke English. She wanted to know if I had any pains or problems. How weird, I thought! My hesitation and apprehension must have shown in my face, so she tried to explain that she and her friend were providing a free service for anyone and everyone, where they would pray and send "positive energy and healing". They would not touch me. It was good for the person they were "healing" and I think it also was of some spiritual benefit for the two women--karma or merit or something. I wasn't sure what to say, so I cautiously admitted that yes, I had some issues with my shoulder.

The first woman explained (I guess) to the second woman in Japanese. Then they both squatted down on either side of where I sat on the bench, bowed their heads, closed their eyes, spread their arms to encircle me without touching me, and began to chant very softly in Japanese. They did this for about two minutes, then got up, smiled sweetly, bowed in unison, and walked away before I could say a word. M arrived just as they left. What a strange and wonderful experience! I have no idea why these women were doing what they were doing, nor exactly what it was they were doing, but it made me think of Reiki. I don't know if they were Buddhist or Christian or what.

M and I made our way back to the train station in the twilight on a street car packed with schoolgirls, salarimen, shopping matrons and one adorable elderly couple, and from there back home to Sasebo. It was a long day, but certainly an interesting one! More soon, about the rest of our jam-packed mini-tour--two days for Arita, Kashimae Pier, an amazing dinner out with Miyuki, and Fukuoka City! (The cat photo is just a picture of three little cats happily snoozing on a plank across one of the city's canals...I couldn't help myself!)

The Big Buddha, the Lucky God & the Goddess of Eloquence, Beauty & Wisdom

I'm sorry it's been so long between updates--it's been a busy few weeks! My trip to Yokosuka was a bigger deal than I anticpated, and I was a little sorry we hadn't taken the Navy up on their offer to let Fearless Husband come with me. However, we both decided it was better for his career for him to ship out at the beginning of May rather than have him stay home and travel to Yokosuka with me. So, off he went to Singapore and Thailand.

The Navy gave me a plane ticket to Haneda Airport outside Tokyo, and instructions on how to get a train ticket to Yokosuka once my plane landed. After some confusion and the help of the costumed "airport helpers"--I boarded the train. The airport helpers are a particularly Japanese custom...young women in their early 20s drift around the airport, wearing powder-blue skirts, jackets, cute little hats with ribbons, and dainty white gloves right out of the 1950s. They're paid to look pretty and seek out confused tourists to aid. The helper who approached me had very little English, but more English than I had Japanese! She called out in her high, clear voice, and two more dainty blue-wrapped girls came running to join us (working women in Japan seem to ALWAYS run with tightly clasped knees and teeny little steps, giving the impression of eagerness and hurry even when they don't move particularly fast!) Between the four of us, we managed to navigate the train ticket machine. I'd found the button to convert the screen text to English, but the train line name I was given was not on the screen, nor was the station name I'd been told. I kept repeating "Yokosuka! Yokosuka!" in desperation, and the three girls figured out how to get me there, pushed the right buttons, and handed me the ticket that the machine spit out. All three were eager to show me the right escalator to find my train, and I was escorted like royalty to the train platform.

I struck up a conversation with a couple on the train--he was miltary, she was Japanese, and they were also on their way to the hospital at Yokosuka. I was grateful, as the wife was able to read the signs, of course, and told me I'd lucked out and gotten onto an express, and would not have to change trains. They showed me how to get to the base from the station, which saved me taxi fare, and I was grateful. Once on the base, I had to take a taxi though--it's a BIG base! The housing folks tried to put me in a shared room with a young female sailor, but I wasn't having any of that. I checked myself into the Navy Lodge (which is where I would've stayed if FH had come with me) and got permission for reimbursement afterwards.

The medical stuff went extremely well--I've never had such attentive, professional, courteous care in my life! I guess I expected the Navy hospital not to be on par with a private hospital, but I was proven wrong very quickly. I am so grateful to have such wonderful medical service available! I had a great time talking with the Lieutenant who was the head nurse. She and her husband have adopted two Japanese babies, and of course, I had lots of questions! The whole experience was great, despite being a lot more involved than I first thought. The doctor decided he didn't want me going home to Sasebo the day after the procedure, so my "orders" were extended several days. So...I decided that rather than make this a trip all about medical stuff, I would treat it as a mini-vacation and a chance to see a little more of Japan on the Navy's dime!

I arrived in Yokosuka on Wednesday afternoon. It poured rain on Thursday (and most of the day was taken up with medical stuff). My surgery was Friday, and then it poured all day Saturday. I was getting a little impatient! Luckily, Sunday was overcast but not rainy, so I headed back to the train station, armed with a photocopied map of Kamakura, directions to the Daibutsu (giant Buddha) and my meager handful of Japanese phrases. I got on the train to Kamakura (or so I thought!) A little worried that I couldn't find any signs on the train in Romanji (English alphabet), I spoke to a young man, pointing in the direction we were travelling and asking "Kamakura"? The answer was an emphatic NO! I'd gotten on the wrong train, going in the wrong direction!

So, I got off at the next stop, and figured I would just jump on the next train going in the opposite direction. While I waited, a little boy and his parents came onto the platform. He was running and laughing and jumping in puddles as his father chased after him, making sure he didn't overshoot and fall onto the tracks. The child's mother saw me watching her son, and smiled...and then spoke to me in great English. We talked, and I ruefully explained my mistake to her. I'm certainly glad I met Asoko! Turns out I could not just get on the train and go in the proper direction...I had to go back one stop, get off the train, and get on an entirely different train line! Oooops!

So...this young family offered to escort me. It wasn't until we'd gone back one stop, changed trains, travelled several stops and changed trains again that I found out they had changed their plans entirely, just to make sure I got where I was going! They left me there at the Hase train station in Kamakura, and promptly got on a train going back to where they'd come from. They all three hustled down to the end car, and waved and beamed at me from the back window of the train until it was out of sight.

Kamakura is a fascinating town. It's small--smaller than Sasebo--with lots of little restaurants and touristy shops. Their claim to fame is the plethora of shrines and temples, and the Daibutsu, which is the second largest Buddha statue in Japan. It's 13.35 meters high, of cast bronze, built in 1252. It was originally built inside a temple, but a tsunami washed away the temple walls and roof at the end of the 15th century, so now it stands in the open. Its official name is Taiisan Kotokuin Shojo Senji. One can pay to go inside it, but it was plenty hot enough without going into a giant metal windowless box, so I abstained.

My favorite part of Kamakura was not, surprisingly, the Daibutsu, but instead was the Hasadera Temple. Of course, one enters the temple grounds at the garden level, and begins to climb (anything worthwhile in Japan is worth climbing to reach...) On the first "level" there were literally hundreds and hundreds of little statues called sentai jizo, maybe 12 inches high. Each represents the soul of a child who was stillborn, miscarried or aborted. The men mostly kept moving up the stairs, but it seemed that every single woman had to stop here, to pour water with a bamboo dipper on the head of a child-like Buddha statue, and pray before the ranks and ranks of sentai jizo. Another, larger statue sat in the middle of them all, wearing a red cloth cap and cape on its stone head and shoulders. There were many candles being lit, and lots of incense, and more than one woman walked away weeping.

There was a tiny little temple with a wooden statue of Buddha inside, with the usual grid-topped box for donations...but surrounding the box and the feet of the Buddha were piles of toys and candy and sodas. A woman saw my puzzled expression and whispered to me "for the children, because they never got to play and be happy on this earth." So much for no tears!

Once I got myself together and stopped sniffling, I made my way further up the hill to the main temple halls. The Hasedera temple is of the Jodo sect of Buddhism, and is famous for its statue of Kannon, the goddess of mercy. The statue shows Kannon with eleven heads, each representing a characteristic of the goddess. The gilded wooden statue is over 9 meters tall, and is regarded as the largest wooden sculpture in Japan. It was so serene and cool in the temple hall, and though there were plenty of tourists, almost all were Japanese, and everyone was very quiet and reverent. It was really beautiful! Go to http://www.asahi-net.or.jp/~qm9t-kndu/hasedera.htm for more info about the temple and the statue.

I really wanted to take a photo of the statue of Kannon, and there were some tourists doing so, but there is a sign that specifically asks visitors NOT to take photos. I thought about how I'd feel if someone came into St. Peter's in the middle of a service and started snapping photos and talking, and I decided to respect the request. I did take a photo of the huge bell, and the giant tree trunk that is swung against it to ring it, and several photos of the gardens, the temple roof, the statues for the children, and of some of the toys and offerings for the souls of the children. I also took a photo of the revolving kyozo, which is a carved wooden storehouse for the sutras--the Issaikyo, which are all the scriptures of Mahayana Buddhism (100 volumes, 900 pages each!) The whole thing revolves on an axle, like a huge, ponderous top. There were several very solemn-faced people struggling to push it around one complete revolution--an elderly couple, then two plump housewife-types, then three teenagers. If a pilgrim pushes it around in a full circle, he or she gets the same spiritual benefit as reading all the scriptures!

I really enjoyed the Daikokudo hall, the home of the Daikokuten. He's a fat, funny god with a huge smile, a bald head, and fat, pendulous earlobes. He stands on a sack of rice with a treasure bag over one shoulder and a mallet or mace over the other shoulder. He supposedly shakes his mace and treasure and goodies fall out, showering the good people. He used to be the god of grain, but is now considered one of the gods of good fortune--one of the seven lucky deities. In a little alcove off the Daikokudo sat a solemn priest. His job was to carefully paint beautiful calligraphy in the "pilgrimage books" of visitors, and to sell little trinkets. I bought a little Daikokuten charm, and he smiled and handed me a little tiny brass statue of the Daikokuten as a gift. While I was there, several people came in and rubbed the statue, including two very serious old ladies who approached the statue chanting something as they rubbed him all over, using both hands with great purpose, seriousness and intensity--his swollen earlobes, his knee, his fat cheeks, his eyebrows...and between his legs! I had a hard time keeping a straight face, especially as the fat statue was shorter than both women, but much wider, and his grin was so huge!

On my way back down the hill, I followed two elderly women from New Zealand (mostly so I could listen to their Japanese guide/friend!) They passed a little tatami-matted, glass-walled building filled with people kneeling in front of low desks, busily writing. The guide/friend explained that they were copying from an ancient sutra, which gave them spiritual benefits. Past the building, there was a torii in front of a little tiny cave. The NZ ladies stooped over and went straight in, so of course I followed. Inside the cool, low-ceilinged cave carved out of the hillside, water dripped and shadows loomed. The one large Benten statue (goddess of eloquence, music & wisdom--of course she's female!) was followed by 16 relief carvings of her followers and messengers. I was confused...the torii is Shinto, but the Benten statue is Buddhist. The guide/friend explained that this was an example of the overlap of the two beliefs, but I'm not really sure I understand. More reading for me, I guess.

The cave startled me, as it got so low at one point that we practically had to crawl to get through to the next part. There was a room with hundreds and hundreds of teeny tiny wooden Buddha figures about an inch and a half tall--tucked into nooks and crannies in the wall, on rock shelves, on the floor, teetering on the metal pipe through which the wires for the few electric bulbs run. The guide/friend said people bought these little figurines and left them, often with prayers written on the bottom. I asked her why these things were in a cave...was there persecution in the past? She smiled and said "it means more if your prayers are private and quiet, and not showing off for your neighbors." Made me think of "And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypocrites are: for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and in the corners of the streets, that they may be seen of men....when thou prayest, enter into thy closet and when thou has shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret...." (no, I don't have it memorized--I had to look it up).

I was so glad I made the effort to go to Kamakura. I wish FH had been with me, but maybe we'll get a chance to head in that direction together at some point in the next two and a half years. If you're anywhere near Tokyo for any reason, don't miss the little town of Kamakura.
More adventures to come. I still have to give you the lowdown on cousin M's visit...we went to Kumamoto, Arita, Fukuoka, Kashimae Pier...it was great! But it will be a day or two, as FH is home (YIPPEE!) Seems they got halfway to Indonesia, and Indonesia decided they didn't want help. So they headed home. His hours are truly crazy right now, as the ship is doing some sort of important excercise/qualification/I don't really understand it, and so even though he's in port, he's on the ship more often than not. Though I won't see much of him (and nothing at all during the week!) at least he's close, and he gets to be home a few evenings in the next two or three weeks. He's working insanely hard and I'm really in awe of him right now.