I have officially spent my first week in Okinawa which was a blur of jet lag, Japanese characters, and the typical endless check list a new duty station requires. I'll have to start this chapter by recounting my first cultural experience looking for an apartment with my roommate.
Mickey was an 80-year-old real estate agent who called me for a showing. We knew we were in for an experience when we stepped into her car which was completely plastered in knick-knacks and beanie babies taped to the dash, random trash, & remains of spilled beverages hosting a small family of ants. She ran around the car in her leopard-print heels to elevate her past her 4 ft 3 in stature to take off for the "mansion" she wanted to show us. Mansion in Japanese seems to translate to cement ghetto, wood-paneled apartment with a hand sink in the shower and lights that have been turned off. On to the next place.
We were driven around for about 25 minutes before she understood that no, we were not in the navy, and no, we did not work at Torii Station. The 2nd location was a miraculous change from the "mansion." A beautiful sea-side duplex with a large balcony on a quiet street. Before we made any decisions she had already determined we were destined to live there, took down the for rent sign, and called the owner to come join us. Deciding to entertain us in the meantime, she demonstrated that she was a dancer, a singer, and got down on the floor to show us she could do half of a backwards somersault and touch her toes. Last night she insisted on taking us to dinner, and I believe we may have been invited to her son's wedding. Favorite Mickey quotes:
To gate guards: "I have pretty girls in car. You see? No you come closer to look!"
On the recent show she attended: "I didn't know. Was strip show. These guy- much bigger than men here."
On us liking her origami plastered office: "you like? It's okay. I make house decoration for you."
On marriage: "my husband, he ask me for money. he have extra, give back to me. this happy marriage."
Mickey was an 80-year-old real estate agent who called me for a showing. We knew we were in for an experience when we stepped into her car which was completely plastered in knick-knacks and beanie babies taped to the dash, random trash, & remains of spilled beverages hosting a small family of ants. She ran around the car in her leopard-print heels to elevate her past her 4 ft 3 in stature to take off for the "mansion" she wanted to show us. Mansion in Japanese seems to translate to cement ghetto, wood-paneled apartment with a hand sink in the shower and lights that have been turned off. On to the next place.
We were driven around for about 25 minutes before she understood that no, we were not in the navy, and no, we did not work at Torii Station. The 2nd location was a miraculous change from the "mansion." A beautiful sea-side duplex with a large balcony on a quiet street. Before we made any decisions she had already determined we were destined to live there, took down the for rent sign, and called the owner to come join us. Deciding to entertain us in the meantime, she demonstrated that she was a dancer, a singer, and got down on the floor to show us she could do half of a backwards somersault and touch her toes. Last night she insisted on taking us to dinner, and I believe we may have been invited to her son's wedding. Favorite Mickey quotes:
To gate guards: "I have pretty girls in car. You see? No you come closer to look!"
On the recent show she attended: "I didn't know. Was strip show. These guy- much bigger than men here."
On us liking her origami plastered office: "you like? It's okay. I make house decoration for you."
On marriage: "my husband, he ask me for money. he have extra, give back to me. this happy marriage."
