Palau

In just one month, I'll be on my way to Palau, a tiny country located north of Papua New Guinea. I'll be joining my friend Dave, who is the reason for the trip. Dave was a Peace Corps volunteer some five years ago and spent two years on Palau. This will be my first time to Palau and Dave's first time back since he ended PC service.

You can see Okinawa, just above the 25th parallel and west of 130°, 4th square from the top-right

I started looking for reasonably priced flights a few weeks ago, but I only finalized my plans yesterday. Unfortunately, the more direct paths out of Okinawa were unavailable, so I had to book two separate segments. First, I'll fly from Okinawa to Osaka, spend a night there, and then fly via Guam to Koror, Palau. The return trip will take place all in one day, but the trip will begin with a departure time from Palau of 01:45. It will be a long day (I arrive in Okinawa at 17:25), but well worth it.

Coming from a sub-tropical island, I'm wondering just what I'll think of this new tropical island experience. I hear that there's a fair number of Japanese who make their way to Palau, so I may even have a chance to work on my Japanese while there. All this wouldn't be possible without the flexibility of my board of education, so of course I've promised them some nice omiyage (a gift for coworkers, usually food, purchased during a trip) and the superintendent is awaiting a bottle of the local liquor.

We'll be there for two weeks. It sounds like our first week will be spent with friends of Dave's reconnecting and such. The second week, we'll take off for the wild on kayaks, camp out, and (I can almost guarantee that we'll) fish - generally enjoying the beauty of the place. Very excited!

A Weekend Away

I spent this past weekend on Zamami, perhaps one of my favorite short travel destinations in all of Okinawa, even Japan. I met up with my friend Dave on Friday night and we slept on a sailboat in Ginowan harbor. Saturday was the 32nd Zamami Yacht Race, and rather than spend money on a pension or a hotel, the boat served us really well. The cool breeze also kept things from getting stuffy inside.

So Saturday was my first sailboat race ever. I didn't do anything other than act as ballast (keeping the boat balanced), but it was sometimes hectic when the captain would call for a tack and we'd have to make our way to the other side of the boat while the sails were shifted from one side to the other. It doesn't sound tough, except that about half-a-dozen people were all trying to get from one side to the other, without getting cracked in the head by a swinging boom. It was a new challenge and I enjoyed it.

Saturday night was marked by a party for the yacht race, but mostly to encourage people for the event going on Sunday - the sabani boat race. These boats are completely crafted of wood in a style that I can only assume is old-fashioned. With relatively primitive sails and only six members on the boat at any one time, the team must combine wind power and rowing to complete the 25km trip from Zamami to Naha. Fast teams take 3 hours at best. Slow teams, perhaps much longer.

The start was at 8 am, so the teams are likely to finish around midday. Support boats will be tailing the sabani boats the entire way, and team members will rotate as they tire.

*picture to be inserted here*

Anyway, coming to Zamami reminds me of the difference in culture between it and my village, Higashi. As the captain of the sailboat was saying, while Zamami is strong in culture with all things boat, sea, and fishing related, Higashi is very much focused on farming. Different cultures. Unfortunately, farming culture doesn't lend itself to interesting festivals at sea, boat races from island to island, or celebrations of welcoming and farewell every time people move to or from the island village (Higashi is not an island, in case you weren't sure). I'll concede that the pineapples are delicious, but if you've ever eaten more than a quarter of one, you quickly find your tongue and cheek unable to handle much more.

What this means is that I am developing an idea of the kind of place I want to live next. Wherever it might be, it's going to have to be warm, near the ocean, and involve sea-faring activities as part of one's daily life, including things like fishing, snorkeling, diving, and boating. This "requirement" should make narrowing down the places I want to live a little easier. I've got a year left on my JET Programme tenure. I think it's time to start thinking about where I will go next.

Stillness

This week, it's a whole new feeling. The air in Higashi has stopped moving (not entirely, as I'm breathing as I write this) and while the dampness may have receded, the heaviness of the warmth of the season seems to really be getting underway. Mind you, this is not a complaint about the current weather in Okinawa, just an observation. I was cleaning the apartment today trying to think of a way to think of how things were feeling. "Still" was what came to mind (the ants, however, are anything but).

I suppose for many ALTs on the JET Programme, stillness is the last thing that comes to their mind. With July quickly approaching, many ALTs will be entering their final month on the Programme. I imagine some of them can't wait to leave, while others are not wanting to face the thought of either returning home or moving on to something else. Within those two extremes lie most of the people I'm sure and I can't help but wonder what kinds of things are going through their minds now. They made the decision to leave (or like me, to stay) over four months ago. But maybe it seemed like there was plenty of time left then.

I myself look at the fact that I only have 13 months left on JET as things stand. Sure, come next February I could decide to stay a fourth year, but I'm not going to get ahead of myself in either direction. There's plenty of time for that evaluation once the re-contracting papers come in November. I can sometimes hardly believe I've been here for almost two years already. Yet at the same time, I can't really see myself anywhere else in another year or so. This, as you can imagine, might seem to put me in a tough spot about what to do. But I've done a lot of discovery for myself this year and I realized that just being here now it what matters.

In that sense, no matter how rocky things may get, how shitty one day may seem, while the next could be quite amazing, there is a sense of stillness about it all. And I'm not talking about the humid stillness that envelopes me like a warm cloud. I'm talking about the pervasive feeling of tranquility that runs underneath the good, the bad, everything.

Dampness

There's a humidity in Okinawa that's covering everything with its damp embrace. Clothing doesn't dry as quickly, shower rooms don't air out as quickly, and books and magazines lying around the apartment seem to take the dampness in for themselves. I have even purposefully delayed doing laundry for the sole reason that the clothing won't dry properly or, in the worst case, will mold. That's what lots of rain with a lingering humidity will get you.

This past week, what sounded like a small waterfall coming from my roof was in fact a waterfall coming from my roof. The water had built up and started pouring over the front of my flat roofed apartment, crashing down on the sidewalk in front of the window to my office. I'm thankful that my current roof is stronger than that of an apartment I lived in many years ago during college. During one particularly bad storm, a large chunk of ceiling came down all over my desk and dresser. Okinawan concrete seems to live up to its sturdy reputation, as far as being tested by heavy rain goes.

The sporadic nature of the rainy season has also affected me in other ways. For one, I'm taking fewer rides on my motorcycle either because the rain is too much to bear, or because I don't like the thought of having to ride home in an unexpected rain storm. I am sticking with my resolution to never use my air conditioning unit in my apartment, however. While I used the a/c during the first few months here in 2007, since my first winter, the machine has been experiencing some serious neglect. Fine by me, and my wallet and the environment are better off for it. I think my body appreciates all the fresh air, too.

Despite the rain and the humid nature of the season, the evenings have been really cool recently. So cool that I find myself bundling up with a blanket or two in the middle of the night. That's not to say I can't feel the damp around me, it just takes on a different feeling when the sun goes down. As long as it stays cool when I'm trying to sleep, all will be well. So here's hoping for nice breezes and cool evenings for a few more months to come.

Rolling

Rolling. That's what this school year has been doing. Checking the calendar, it's a little hard to believe that it's been two and a half months since school started again. Even more bewildering to think that we've only got about a month of school left before the long summer break.

And of course, the approach of August means I've been in Okinawa for almost two years. When accepting my role on JET, I promised myself I'd stay two years, mainly because I'd heard stories that one year was too short. One-year ALTs had told me that just as they were getting the hang of living and working on JET, they had to leave. So here it comes, two years down.

I'll be sticking around for a third in my small village named Higashi. It's not bad, but it's also not a place I want to spend more than three years. While the experience has been great, there are a some disadvantages to living in a rural community where I don't quite get the whole picture of things, primarily because of my language inability. There are a couple of options I'm considering, all relating to what comes after my time here, but since none of them are more than ideas, I'll refrain from posting them just yet. There is one main question that underlies all my future decisions, though, and it is this: "Will I return to America?"

I can't say, you'll just have to wait and see. I have been thinking about doing a winter visit back to the States, though the logistics aren't going to please everybody. There's just no way I can see everyone in the limited amount of time within a reasonable cost. I'll do my best. Of course, there is one easy solution that saves me the trouble of having to pick who to see - you just have to make the trip over here for yourself.