Will to Wander

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The Long Road to Okinawa (Part 2)

Tokyo Quarantine and Arriving in Okinawa

I’ve done a few long international trips over the years and never felt the effects of the dreaded jet-lag, so I figure maybe I was immune to it. WRONG! The first few days in Tokyo were a hellish time warp, as I repeatedly bolted awake in the middle of the night and was begging for sleep by mid-afternoon. Luckily, I could nap as I pleased since we were stuck in quarantine for two weeks. Little by little, over five days I normalized my sleep schedule and got into a good daily routine, largely revolving around meals, naps, and reading. Aside from taking Chopper on quick walks around the block a few times a day, there wasn’t much else to do.


Our apartment was small but served our needs well. It was comprised of an efficiency kitchen/dining room, the main bedroom, and a secondary bedroom that we used to store our suitcases in. The most amazing thing about our modest apartment was the toilet, which had a bidet and better yet, a heated toilet seat!!! There were a bunch of other buttons on that thing I didn’t even try to push for fear that it might launch me into space. Let it be known that Japan’s toilet game is light-years ahead of the US. Anyway, the final highlight of our Airbnb (and the real selling point) was a small deck outside our door that gave us a view of Tokyo Syktree. Unfortunately, it wasn’t warm enough to spend much time outside, but the deck offered a wonderful reprieve to get some fresh air and enjoy the view when we felt cooped up. 

There was a small grocery mart downstairs that I visited a few times to stock up on essentials (i.e. - noodles and beer). While we could have made all our meals with groceries from the market, it was a treat to order delivery for dinner here and there to mix things up. On Christmas Eve, we replaced our traditional Italian “Feast of the Seven Fishes” meal with sushi. It was the closest approximation we could manage, considering our limited resources. The following day we embraced the Japanese tradition of fried chicken on Christmas. While KFC seemed to be the overwhelming favorite among locals, we went with Korean fried chicken… still “KFC” nonetheless. 

Our last morning in Tokyo landed on New Year’s Eve, and we were set to fly to Okinawa at 10:30 am. With our quarantine officially over, I woke up at 5:00 am and quickly headed out the door to take advantage of our last few hours in the city. It was cold out, but it felt invigorating to stretch my legs and explore beyond the confines of our neighborhood. I made my way along a footpath that followed the Sumida River, musing over its similarity to the Charles River back home. I crossed a bridge and made a beeline for Asakusa, home of the famous Senso-ji, the oldest Buddhist temple in Tokyo. It is Japanese tradition to visit a temple or shrine on New Year’s Day to say a prayer for good luck in the year ahead. I was a day early but said a few quick prayers at the temple anyway. After the nightmare of 2020, I figured we could use all the help we could get. Funny enough, this was the only place in Japan I had ever been to before in my life, having made a quick visit in 2016 during a layover on my way back from Vietnam. 

Leaving the temple behind, I meandered through a park full of octogenarians bundled in their warmest coats, limbs flailing and hips gyrating away as nearby loudspeakers called out exercises in the crisp morning air. And people wonder why the Japanese live so long! I retraced my steps over the river and toward the Tokyo Skytree. After two weeks of seeing it every day from our deck, I had to get up close to view it from a fresh perspective. I wasn’t disappointed as the suns’ soft morning rays illuminated the spire. I stood at its base and quietly marveled at the scale and design of the structure, wishing I could go up to the observation deck. Time was running short though, so I grabbed some coffees at Starbucks and hoofed it back to the Airbnb to get ready for our flight. 

On the way out the door to catch our taxi, Courtney heaved one of our 65lb suitcases over the jam and threw out her back... seriously. She let out a laugh, but not the “Wow, that was funny,” laugh. This was the “Wow, this is pathetic and holy shit, this really hurts,” laugh. Needless to say, it wasn't a great way to start our travels. We arrived at Haneda Airport nearly two hours before our flight, ensuring we had plenty of time to check in and maybe grab a bite to eat before taking off - or so we thought. For this last leg of the journey, Chopper had to be checked and ride in the cargo hold. We had to pay a $55 pet fee, so I gave the ticket agent my credit card… no problem, right? There was quite a language barrier, but the agent apologetically intimated that she couldn’t run the card right there and had to go to another machine to process the transaction. OK, sure thing. Fifteen minutes went by and there was no sign of her, so I went up to the counter again to ask what was going on. Very politely, but without explanation, I was asked to please keep waiting. Half an hour went by and still no sign of my credit card, so I asked again. Please keep waiting. ANOTHER fifteen minutes went by and still nothing!!! At this point, Courtney and I were both freaking out as the minutes ticked by and we realized that our flight was going to take off soon, possibly without us. Up to this point, I was annoyed but doing my best to stay calm and give them the benefit of the doubt, but now my blood was boiling. As I went up to the counter again to give them a piece of my mind, the original agent came scurrying back, card in hand. She told me that there would be no charge today because they couldn’t get the machine to work! After all that, I would have happily paid twice the fee to have avoided the stress we dealt with. Our hearts raced as we hurried through security and made it to our gate just as they were calling our names. With empty bellies, a bead of sweat on our foreheads, and an extra $55 in our bank account, we were on to the home stretch.

After an uneventful three-hour flight, we landed at Naha airport. Unlike in Tokyo, we could proceed right out to baggage claim where we picked up Chopper, stressed out by the experience but no worse for the wear. A taxi drove us the hour up to Courtney’s school, OIST, and gave us the first glimpse of our new home. We pulled up the steep driveway onto campus and from the first parking lot looked out to a spectacular ocean view. “Oh yeah, we could get used to this.” The campus was closed over the New Year’s holiday, so we had to go another hour north to Motobu to stay in a new Airbnb. For this leg of the trip, I drove Courtney’s boss's car, which he graciously loaned to us. If you’ve never driven on the opposite side of the road, let me tell you it’s a real mind-fuck for the first few hours. It’s even more stressful when you’re borrowing a car from your wife’s new boss, a man you’ve never met. With my knuckles white and jaw clenched, I drove up the coast while Courtney served as my second brain, providing critical prompts and reminders as turns and lane changes approached. We made it to our Airbnb without incident and lugged all of our worldly possessions into an even tinier apartment than the one we had in Tokyo. 

Celebratory food and libations were in order to ring in the New Year, so we made a quick run out to the local supermarket. Our heads spun at the dizzying array of exotic choices available, but we were too tired to be adventurous. Our New Year’s Eve was a muted celebration over a fried food pu-pu platter, Orion beer, sake, and a few tepidly contested games of cribbage. Before we knew it, the clock read 12:01 and we were in 2021, ready to get a good night’s sleep and start the fresh year on the right foot. Courtney’s bad back limited her mobility, but over the next few days we explored the Motobu peninsula and even drove along the coast of the island to the northernmost point, Cape Hedo. We got our first tastes of local Okinawan cuisine as well, trying Okinawan soba, goya champuru, and umibudo (sea grapes) at a local izakaya.

On the morning of January 5th, we headed back to OIST to move into our new on-campus apartment. After nearly three weeks of living in puny Airbnbs, it was a relief to walk in our door and see how much space we had. While the furniture and decor gave off a strong “dorm” vibe, the overall space was more than we could have expected, and the ocean view didn’t hurt either. The best part is it was all free through Courtney’s fellowship! It was a hell of a ride, but we were finally in our new home. 

Our arrival at OIST marks the end of one chapter, but turns the page to a new one, full of excitement and potential. I hope you’ll follow along as I explore and share my experiences from this island and beyond over the next few years. 

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