Okinawa Tomb Sweeping Getaway

On Sunday, April 3, 2016, Leona and I took a ninety minute flight from Tao-Yuan Airport 525 miles northeastward over the Ryukyu Pacific Trench to Okinawa, Japan. It was our first visit  there. Upon arrival at the brand new Naha International Airport, we walked a short distance to Yui Monorail, a fifteen station line that snakes its way through Naha from the airport to Shurijo Castle Park. 

Once Leona figured out the fare rate, we were on our way. The first thing we did was check in to our hotel; seven stops and twenty minutes away. We soon arrived at APA Hotel.

The APA is a hotel chain all over Japan with the CEO of forty-four years, Toshio Moroya (on the right) at the helm. Here he is with Professor Emeritus of the University of Tokyo, Keiichiro Kobori, who has radically different ideas about Japanese modern history than one reads in the U.S. media.

As I turned to the tiny, clean bathroom, grabbing a magazine called Apple Town and a book by the CEO himself, I sat on my throne. What I learned inside was not surprising.  The magazine, placed in every mini-van sized APA Hotel room, says the truth is being withheld; that Roosevelt was a war criminal, in conspiracy with Churchill and Russia, to divvy up Asia and was to blame for starting the war between China and Japan. The magazine says MacArthur knew the Japanese were only defending themselves from Western attack and testified as such. Prof. Keiichiro Kobori had studied and published books in which he proved it.

 Behind the APA hotel is the Okinawa red light district. With neon lights blinking in tittie bars, taxis trawling the alleys for satisfied clients who've had enough, it was a cinch finding Orion Beer on tap and fried-noodle  for a midnight snack. We felt no danger from the clientele; Japanese are discreet in their carnal pursuits. Afterwards, we returned to the room, tended to my bronchitis, watched TV, and spent a restless night due to  my coughing. Maybe I could have used this aphrodisiac snake liquor medicine we spotted in a shop on Kokusai Street? Nah; I needed cough syrup. 

After a short walk from our hotel, we perused the tourist traps on Kokusai Street.  I had an A&W Root Beer. Along with Blue Seal ice cream (Foremost) these establishments have been quenching the thirst of American servicemen occupying Okinawa since 1952, not long after the April 1, 1945 invasion, putting sweet icing on their bloody cake. 

Just off Kosusai Street, you will see the Tsuboya Pottery Village. Okinawa is famous for its pottery and the stylized lion ceramics can be spotted all over the islands, The uncrowded lanes had dozens of unique shops. It was very relaxing and we enjoyed the scenery, not a throwback to another time, but a modern artistic spot for new bourgeois travelers.

After strolling and choosing ceramics for the home, we pumped water at the well and worked up an appetite. We knew exactly where  to go: Makishi Public Market for fresh seafood lunch.

Makishi Public Market is a row of covered streets with merchant stalls and shops lining the way. It seemed a bit antiquated, a throwback to the '60's, and many of the vendors showed their age. No modern fashions were to be found here but there were a number of second-hand stores and book shops. In one of them, I came across the 1979 theater guide to the Japanese cast of Fiddler on the Roof. Oy Vay! Wish I could hear the soundtrack!

 Another shop made a unique starchy peanut-tofu  pudding onto which you splash some sweet soy sauce and dig in with a tiny spoon. You can see the extent of quality control from the old-timer making filling one cup at a time. The mall was antiquated but it was not dirty or smelly at all. After buying a pencil, with a tip of a monkey head, we got another tip, from the vendor of cat related items, and we made our way through the uncrowded tentacles of the mall to Makishi Public Market food court. The fresh catch we saw was amazing.

 Now, how does that trick in the Chinese tourist book work? Let's see: Go up to the second floor. You will see a number of restaurants spreading tables out from of their kitchens. Find the restaurant you like and tell the waitress you want them to prepare fresh catch from downstairs. She will tell you which fishmonger is their favorite. Give them the card (above) she gives you.   They will deliver it upstairs, then you decide what style you'd like. We opted for half salted, half sashimi fish (the small orange one in the bottom right corner) and a small lobster broiled in butter, half of which will be put in miso soup. We also went for the sea grapes, a seaweed tasting treat like salmon caviar. We were set for the best seafood meal we would have since that dinner in Marseilles!  

Tip: Go early for lunch (around 11:00 am) for the best selection. 

Shurijo Castle Park 

At least it wasn't made of Lego! 

The castle they built from  plywood, and painted maroon, copied graphics, the copy, the respect of the native dressed security guards, without a hint of the destruction that took place there in May 1945, will last long after the perpetrator's flags are finally taken down from the American airbase on Okinawa. 

Perhaps this is one of the buildings that wasn't blasted to smithereens during in the Okinawa Invasion. Maybe they picked up the splinters and taped it back together.  

You shouldn't think it's cheesy-looking. The Okinawan culture was old and cultured with their own written language similar to Japanese. Their history goes back to the middle ages, and in one month, May 1945, it was obliterated. The U.S. tried to blame Japan: "They made the U.S. do it," Western historians say. The Japanese have taken care to bring back the memory of the beauty; not the pain. 

Many of the stones were still there, reassembled, although there was a lot of fabrication copied from old photographs. They did have the blueprints from past repairs to guide them. The rebuilt palace was finished in 2006. 

This is what one structure looked like before April 1, 1945.

Let the world know that there were Crusaders, Conquistadors, Totalitarian Communists, Capitalist Imperialist and Colonizers before there was Bin Laden and ISIS to destroy art, culture, and our world's heritage. Will Shurijo be protected because the U.N. says so?

Down to the cave in the mouth of doom... 

 The stalagmites, standing upright in the cavern in southern Okinawa, looked eerily like spirits in death shrouds. The underground water filtered the blood-soaked soil so they could make the local beer with it. I'm glad I was ignorant of the extent of carnage in Okinawa or I wouldn't have been able to enjoy myself there. 

Like spirits hanging in the wind, beauty, and a reminder.

...down down down in the gloom gloom gloom. 

All the Blue Seal ice-cream couldn't make the invaders presence sweeter. All the A&W Root Beer won't quench the murderous nation's throat. There'll be dancing and singing when the people of this planet send American capitalism away for good.

Where have all the soldiers gone, filtered through the mud and gore? Gone to crystal springs in caves, everyone.

Such beauty cannot cover the inhumanity of man to man in the name of greed. Look at this  entrance to the cave in Southern Okinawa. Who came in here to hide and escape? Who came in here to rape and murder? 

Back to the
surface. 

 I decided to Google "Battle of Okinawa" last evening. I am glad I remained ignorant about the blood-soaked island in WWII's bloodiest Allied attack, an invasion much larger than in Normandy, on mostly civilian population, the fierce fighting they encountered used as an excuse for dropping the nuclear bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki; to reduce civilian (and Allied) casualties. It must have been cheaper, too, than losing hundreds of planes, ships, artillery, and over 12,000 U.S. deaths and twice as much injured and shell-shocked, 200,000 Okinawan and Japanese deaths, mostly civilian, and the Western propaganda blames the Japanese for being ruthless and using civilians as human shields. 

Bitter melon is the produce of Okinawa. It  is quite delicious but whether you have it as ice cream, tea, on a hamburger, in soup, stuffed or dried, it leaves a taste in your mouth that cannot be washed away. Our getaway to Okinawa on Tomb-Sweeping Weekend in Taiwan  is better for what I should have left unsaid, but there is beauty in the caves below the surface, too, and the beer made from the filtered water of the underground  spring was remarkable. For Okinawa and Japan, Okinawa's past cannot be "gotten-away" from.

Taiwan, 525 miles to the southwest of Okinawa, was spared hand-to-hand combat by the U.S. Why? The mountains of Taiwan? The amount of Japanese loyalty here? The millions of people here? Okinawa was smaller, closer? Or were they saving Taiwan for a retreat from China? 

      Like a sore throat from bronchitis, Okinawa will always be hard to swallow, but it is a nice place to recuperate; get your voice back. Take a sad song and make it better.

Poetry Reading in Downtown Taichung

https://www.facebook.com/HappenTaichung/

3-18-16 Fri.

     Some two dudes, who I never saw on Facebook before, are holding a poetry reading in Downtown Taichung on Thurs., March 31at 7:00pm. I  friended one dude named David, a guy who liked two poems that I wrote and posted on "Taiwan Writers." I want to know who I am sharing my poetry with in public and who is running the venue.  I sent a private IM to David telling him I was interested in reading (and playing the harp) and asking what kind of stuff he was looking for. My desire to "play out" has always been there and I have gone down a few dead ends to get there. 

Since I have time to go, I may just go after class two Thursdays from now.

 David Wood is a chef  affiliated with Lone Wolf Publications 

Michael Smith had mentioned starting poetry readings in Taichung. A poetry reading with him is possible. I owe it to myself to visit the event David is planning and will mention it to Michael. 

4-1-16 Fri. 

      I rode to downtown Taichung after class last evening to join a poetry reading called “Lost and Found Poetry.” It was the first time David Braden and David Woods did this at a private start-up called “Happening.” 

David Wood had  a few beers last evening. I animated the five or six onlookers with readings of “Watching Youth Harvesting Han River,” “The River is My Refuge,” and “When You Spread My Ashes,” and he  loosened up. His best poem was an angry diatribe to the city of Taichung. Meanwhile, an interesting Tibetan monk mumbled words in Mandarin with three droning musicians, one good on electric violin. During a break from the music with David Braden who blew along merrily on a harmonica David Woods and I spoke.

 The monk and players had left by the time I read but returned momentarily to have a group picture taken. All the while, projected on a wall behind the staging area, were slides of David Braden. 

      David Wood sat next to me as the music droned on. We talked a little bit and I felt close to him. I lured in a few passing musicians who looked in from the street I lured them in but they stayed only for a song and left. “Lost and Found Poetry” is not going to get walk-ins with avant guard music.

      I hope there are future poetry readings. I enjoyed reading my poems and got good reaction. “The River is My Refuge” was direct reference to the “The Refuge.” The other poems, with references to “fallow potato fields” and “youth beating the water with sticks” to flush out a catch,  and references I made during the poem reading about ex-pats who had been away from the reality too long.

Teacher Zhang's Feng-Jia Coffee Friend

3-12-16

After Mandarin class this morning, I said I would go to a coffee shop near Feng-Jia University called Cantata Kahve. Huang De-Ray is the Chinese name of a Turkish ex-pat who’s taught by Amber Zheng. She heard me complain about how I have no one to practice Mandarin with and thought she would introduce me to him. She would meet us there. I hope it isn’t raining (as it has been the past four days) so I can be in the mood to ride there; with the new route and it being out of the way, it will be a task that I don’t need. I will play it by ear and ride home if it is raining after class.

3-14-16

I didn’t go to the coffee shop near Feng-Jia University after Mandarin class. I was all set to go, weather permitting, but Leona sent a Line message that her sister was coming to visit at 2pm. I knew she was coming but Leona hadn’t reminded me when I mentioned going to the coffee shop. Her sister called at noon to say she was coming at 2:00. Leona said it was okay if I went to the coffee shop anyway but I felt it was only right that I be there with her at her brother’s place to greet her sister, Chip’n’Dale, and the kids. Miss Zheng understood. I will probably go next Saturday after class whether she goes too or not. 


3-20-16

I rode the bike twenty minutes from National Taichung University of Education (NTCU) to the coffee shop near Feng-Jia University of Teacher Zheng’s Turkish exchange student. The French “hippie” (as he was called by the dull Turk) in the jewelry shop next door would have been more fun to chat with, but I was polite; Teacher Zheng meant well in introducing us, though I doubt I will go back there again or even contact him on Facebook. Though I was there at 12:45, Ms. Zheng wasn’t and the shop was closed. I waited and she arrived discovering the shop opened at 2:00. I left to disappear and was called sitting at a Taiwan pizza a block away at 1:30 that the shop was opened so I returned only to find the Turk had taken the dog for a long walk. At two we finally all sat together, talking in Mandarin, mostly about me, I was bored by 3:15 and said it was time for my nap. It took thirty-five minutes to ride home.

Morning Blossoms in Tai'an Station

Look how crowded the tiny speck of cherry blossom lane is on a Monday morning? If we had gone on the weekend, this writer would be sitting in a car miles away waiting for a chance to visit Tai'an. Thank goodness I'm retired and can travel when most people cannot.

3-7-16

     On a day that we agreed to return the Mazda3 to the dealer in Feng-Yuan to replace the rubber seal around the repaired roof, we took advantage of the proximity and nice weather to go to Tai'an . It was the first trip we took in the car. 

People in Taiwan go wild when they see cherry blossoms. They are rarely seen here so when they come out, throngs flock to see them, even though they are nothing to look at compared with the multitude in Japan or even the Japanese Garden at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden or the Tidal Basin in Washington D.C.It is that latent longing for  Japanese influences here that makes it so special to the multitude; at least
 the cherry blossoms weren't banned and still bloom.

Along the road that leads to the abandoned train station, you can find some local delicacies like these gaoliang sausages being made on the spot by these ladies 



Further along near the station we spotted the hand-painted sign on the side of a building of the train-car restaurant we were to later have lunch in. 

The Tai'an train station is just north of the Hou-Feng Station which makes a detour to the west for space to expand to two tracks. The abandoned section is the bike trail that crosses a bridge over a wide wash and a one-track tunnel through a mountain. Couples come here to take wedding photos at this quintessential Taiwan spot. 

Notice the error in this English history of the station, "...cession to Japan in 1985." If Japan had been here that long, Taiwan would have been developed much faster than by the Chinese administration that held back on developing Taiwan for so long so they could buy obsolete U.S. weapons to take back the Mainland.  

The restaurant near the new train station also offers hotel rooms in train cars. What could have been a great retro meal was tarnished by slow service with uncleared tables and a long wait for our sub-par meal. The bento (bien-dong) box lunches they sell on the Taiwan Railroad contain much tastier pork, vegetables, tea egg and rice than this place. Still it was a nice place to sit, in the retrofitted air conditioned cars, and relax before we drove the 45 minutes back south to our home in Beitun.