Ok, dude. You first.

 

Jason and I were watching a cooking show - I think it was "The Taste" and Anthony Bourdain brought his contestant to an "izakaya." Its a Japanese style restaurant, he said. Upon doing some research I found out that "izakaya" literally translates to "bar with food." Sounds like my kind of place. We had never been and really had never heard of it so we began our search. Jason asked a couple of guys at work if they knew of any good izakayas and low and behold, they had! We got a baby-sitter and began our walk to the Araha Beach area where it is located. This is what is nice about living where we live. Almost everything is within walking distance. It rules. During my research I found that izakayas are almost always tiny, little, hole-in-the-wall places with red paper lanterns near the entry. We saw a couple on our walk but decided to continue to the one that was recommended. I couldn't tell you the name of the place because there wasn't an English translation. All I can say is that we were the only Americans there and it was packed. This is always a good sign that you're at the right place. It was a small restaurant with some booths outside covered in plastic sheets because you never know when the torrential rain might start falling. Inside there were about 6 tables and bar seating. The tables were the tatomi style tables (you are basically sitting on the floor cross-legged under a short-legged table). We opted for the bar seats thinking we might be able to strike up conversation with some Japanese folks (like you might strike up conversation in any bar across America - isn't that why people go to bars?).



 

We sat down and got our menus. Hm... not much English here either. The drink menu had more translations than the food. We ordered a couple of Moscow mules, excited to recognize something. Unfortunately the mules didn't come in the usual copper cups. They were in glass mugs. They tasted excellent though, so we weren't complaining too much. With our drinks came a large chunk of ice cold tofu sprinkled with dried fish. Jason wasn't too fond of it, but I don't mind tofu so I ate it right up. We wouldn't want to be rude.

I don't know why Jason is covering those up.
This is the tofu.

So we began our search through the menu for what to order and Jason noticed a "combination platter" on the bottom of the menu. Comes with 18 skeweres. This is how the izakayas serve their food. Shiskabob style cooked over charcoal. I was hesitant to order some strange combination of food as we wouldn't know ahead of time what we were putting into our mouths. I reluctantly agreed remembering we had some leftovers at our house in case there was nothing I felt comfortable eating. After the Moscow mules were gone we decided to switch to Japanese beer. I can't recall which one we had, probably Asahi or Kirin Beer, either are always delicious. They were cold and bubbly and came in tall glasses so we were good with that.



There was a young Japanese couple on our left hand side, but still had not even glanced in our general direction. I started to realize that the rule of generally not looking in anyone else's direction holds true even in a bar. It is considered rude to look at other people and also to eavesdrop on the conversation. Needless to say, we were not going to be striking up any conversations here. Bummer!

Our food came shortly after we had switched to beer. A small plate heaping with mini-skewers, called yakitori, were strewn across our plate. The very top one being a small fish. Yes, a whole fish. Head, eyes, tail. Um... I think we made a mistake. Jason's rule was that we had to at least try everything. Ok, dude. You first. He took a bite of the fish and almost immediately spit it into a napkin. I reluctantly tried it even though it was obviously disgusting. Yep. I swallowed mine. I don't know why. My description: That tasted like death. Next please.

The mini-fish skewer was by far the worst one of the bunch. I don't know why they would put it on top. Maybe its a specialty? Who knows. After that experience, I was still willing to try the others (although, I don't know why). The next one we picked up was just a chicken skewer in some kind of marinade. Delicious. Another delicious one after that and so on. Eventually we got one with a weird red sauce on the top. It was chicken so we each ate a chunk. Hm... weird. Tastes rotten. After reviewing the menu and looking at pictures we discover it is a "fermented plum sauce." Yep. Rotten. No thanks.

After that one they got weirder and weirder. At one point I was chewing on something (it had to be an organ of some kind) and thinking I don't know what this is, but its chewy and still sort of good. When I first learned that I was moving to Okinawa - the first Japanese phrase I wanted to learn was, "vegetarian" because I assumed I would be wimpy to try anything and that it would all be disgusting. I have never once said that Japanese word, actually I don't remember it.

Japanese meatballs = delicious

Me eating weird food

Japanese menu

 

Flying VIP - Japanese style

The day had finally come! The countdown was over and the day was upon us. I was checking into my flight out of Okinawa. I couldn't believe it. I was flying just Colton and I, so needless to say there was a bit of anxiety there, but I knew it would all be worth it in the end.
Jason and I had never been to the Naha Airport here in Okinawa so after getting only slightly lost in the terminal area we had finally parked and gotten into the airport. I waited in line while Jason chased Colton around the airport. It seemed like it took forever. I don't know why, but the Japanese airlines run your bags through security while you are in line before you check in and then you get them back before you actually give them to the customer service representative. I don't think this would fly in the states. I think people would be sneaking stuff in there after they had been screened. It probably only works in Japan because these people are rule followers. I know that's a generalization, but its a pretty accurate one. When I finally got up to check in I handed the man mine and Colton's passports and waited... and waited... and waited... one hour to exact. Its hard to communicate and ask if everything is ok, but he assured me that nothing was the matter. After I was FINALLY all checked in the man gave me 3 boarding passes. 2 for me and 1 Colton. Hm.... I would really like it if Colton could go with me on both flights. The gentleman told me that I would have to leave the security area and check him in separately (for whatever reason) in Tokyo. I was not thrilled about this as my layover was only 1 hour and 20 minutes but what could I do? This was the way they did it.
We got to our gate, ate some tacorice and waited for our plane to board.
While we were sitting there waiting for our plane to board, in a slew of people, a Japanese airline person came over by me and asked if I was Ms. Angel. I confirmed and she told me that they would let me board early and help with the car seat and my bags. Awesome!!! I love Japanese people.
So, when it came time to board, they were true to their word. They carried my car seat and buckled it in for me while I just watched over Colton to make sure he didn't go missing. It was amazing. Colton slept nearly the entire flight to Tokyo (about 2 and a half hours). I wasn't complaining. When we landed he was still sleeping. I wasn't about to open up the window and shine the light right into his face so I had no clue that we were exiting the plane in the middle of the tarmac and taking a bus to the actual terminal. So, like a fool I told all the Japanese people that I didn't need any help and I would just carry him out while he was sleeping and hook him onto my car seat wheel-barrow attachment and be on my way. Well, I had to carry that huge heavy car seat with my 30lb kid in it down a huge flight of stairs, across a tarmac and into a bus, where of course he woke up. So, it was all for nothing. I didn't know where I had to go to do the check in/check out thing to get Colton's other boarding pass so I asked the first person I saw. She directed me on which way to go and as I was headed in that direction I noticed a white board in the middle of the hallway with a bunch of kanji on it. Kanji and mine and Colton's names. Luckily there was a lady there and I asked her why my name was on this board and she said, "Oh, you have to go this way, then that way, then down these stairs, through these doors around this corner..." I said, "Can you show me?" She was Japanese so of course she did it (and with a smile).
I had now exited the security check and was checking Colton into our second flight, the one to Chicago. I told her I was boarding in only about 30 minutes and that I needed to hurry through security. She told me she would call them and tell them I was coming. I wondered how they would know who I was, but maybe there weren't a lot of white women with blonde haired children in the Tokyo airport that day. Sure enough I was not even to the security check point when a young man came hustling over asking if I was Ms. Angel. He ushered me through a secret way in the back and I flew past all the other people waiting. Again, Japanese people rule.
I knew I was running short on time but I had to get Colton's diaper changed. I stopped at a bathroom on the way and took care of business. I was back on my way in a jiff. Now, as I was approaching my gate ANOTHER Japanese lady came hustling over to me saying, Are you Ms. Angel? Again, I confirmed in fact I was (I didn't know she would be so popular). She told me that boarding had all ready started but that they were expecting me. This was not a Japanese flight. This was a United flight. So, needless to say, when I boarded this plane there were plenty of stewards and stewardesses around. They were just too busy talking and laughing and standing doing nothing (basically watching me struggle) to give me a hand. I couldn't believe it. Finally my own people and they are completely rude and unhelpful. Typical. Luckily there was a man in the row behind me who was kind of watching Colton to be sure he wouldn't run too far while I was buckling in the car seat. We were all strapped in - Colton at the window and me in the middle. A man comes walking up to his seat - right next to me - and he immediately looks disappointed. I say, "Hi. Do you have any kids?" I was hoping for a little understanding. He says, "Nope." I say, "Sorry." He says, "You don't have anything to be sorry about... yet." Well, at least he has a sense of humor. Turned out Colton was a saint and the man was very "impressed." I don't know if I was supposed to take that as a complement, like I had a well behaved child, but there's really no knowing these things. It was luck and sleepiness.
Needless to say my trip through customs in Chicago was a nightmare. Colton was upset (who wouldn't be). We had just gotten off a 12 hour flight and he was not happy to have to sit in a luggage cart and wait for our luggage to come around the bend. Again, no one was helpful, they wouldn't even move when I said excuse me so I could squeeze by to grab my bag. Can't you hear my kid screaming?! MOVE YOUR BUTT!!!!
Anyway, I'm sure you've all seen the pic that Jackie posted of when I saw salvation. I knew that when I walked through those doors my sister would be on the other side to help me and just be nice to me and not give me a dirty look if my kid is crying. I started crying before I even saw her. I have NEVER been happier to see anyone (except when Jason came home from his 2 tours safe and sound).

Moral of the story is, if you have the opportunity, fly a Japanese airline. I will from now on.