Ryukyu Star Fall 2013 - Movement by OkiJET

movement an okijet publication

the ryukyu

star

Editor

Kathryn Strong

Visual Editor Jd Banks

Prefectural Advisors Grant Minagawa Elizabeth Reuter

Published by

Okinawa Prefectural Government

ryukyustar@ajet.net

in every issue 1-2 Editorsâ&#x20AC;&#x2122; Notes Kathryn Strong Jd Banks

3-4 Contributors 5-6 Notes from the Kencho Grant Minagawa Elizabeth Reuter

25 Where in the World is Rekio the Lion? Grant Minagawa

fall2 2013 7-8 First Impressions Josh Primiano

9-10 Mind the Courtesy Gap Lucas LaPlante

11-12 Just Roll with It Jess Bertubin

13-14 Capoeira: Beyond Movement Loren Runcie

15-16 Okinawan Pro-Wrestling Adrian H.

17-18 YSP

Adam Nakama

19-22 Deegu and Bungaya: Part 2 Tom Becskehazy

23-24 Restaurent Review: Basunuya Tom Becskehazy

27-28 Spotted: Miniature Libraries Kelly Farrow

29 Visual Poetry: A How-to Michael King

30 Ryuuka Jester Haze

31-32 Announcements

editors' notes editor kathryn strong The heat is finally breaking—these past few weeks, it’s been easier to convince myself to put on my running shoes and head outside. Soon, we’ll be flooded in crisp dry days, still sunny enough to go to the beach but cool enough that the only salt on your body is from the ocean, not sweat. Months of three days weekends beg you to spend equal parts lying in your warm bed and outside finding new parts of the island. If I’m being honest, it’s the promise of fall that gets me through Okinawa’s endless summers. Fall is when I come alive again. After months of heat-induced stupor, it’s these few months that drive me to get out, try new things, and fall even more deeply in love with our island. For me, it was these months two years ago that made Okinawa become less a place in the Pacific, and more my home. The new JET arrivals, then, are lucky to be getting here now. After the few hot months of setting up and settling in (fortunately aided this year by a light typhoon season), the island is preparing to unveil its best side. In this issue, Josh shares a story of his first days in Okinawa and the moment when he realized how lucky we all are to live in this prefecture. Lucas, a second time JET but Okinawa newcomer, talks about some of his experiences negotiating the discrepancies between Western and Japanese cultures. Inspired by the theme of movement, several JETs share articles about their favorite activities. Jess discusses her experiences with Brazilian Jiu Jitsu, and how what she has learned through studying that martial art can be applied to her adjustment to living here. In his article, Loren sheds some light on Capoeira, explaining not only what it is, but also sharing the large impact that it, and the global community it cultivates, have had on his life. Adrian, who wrote about Okinawan poetry last issue, is back to share a

slightly different side of Okinawan culture— masked pro-wrestling. They dish on what you can expect and where to go to see it performed. Some JETs have taken the summer months stuck at the office with nothing to do as a chance to explore their creative sides. Tom returns with the final installment of his story “Deegu and Bungaya.” I don’t want to spoil it, so all I can say is, “Read!” Later in the issue, Mike continues his exploration of poetry, this time sharing some suggestions on how to increase your viewing appreciation of visual poetry. Rounding things out, Grant shares images of Rekio’s latest adventure. Finally, since fall is arguably the best weather of the year, some JETs have offered suggestions of how to get out and enjoy it. Kelly shares with us her discovery of mini-neighborhood libraries all over Okinawa. While I assume most of the books are in Japanese, English donations would likely be appreciated as well. I’m not going to condone guerilla book additions by JETs, but it’s an idea. Be sure to tell her if you find more of these libraries in your area! While you’re out looking for books, you’re bound to get hungry. Tom presents a southern alternative to Pizza in the Sky, the famed pizza place in Motobu (which, I assure you, is a real place). If it’s anything like it’s northern cousin, it’s definitely worth checking out! In closing, I’d like to thank everyone who contributed to this issue. Thank you firstly to Jd. I couldn’t have asked for a better partner in this. Thank you to the PAs, Elizabeth and Grant, for their constant and enthusiastic support of the Ryukyu Star. Thank you to all contributors, whether you’ve been writing for us for years, or this is your first time, for filling our pages with interesting, informative, and sometimes hilarious content. Thank you to the readers, I hope you enjoy this issue of the Ryukyu Star!

A reminder to contributors: Submissions can be up to 750 words. More words. More cuts. Please proofread submissions prior to submitting them to the Ryukyu Star. Passive voice (“Basketball was played” versus “I played basketball”), inconsistent verb tenses (past tense versus present tense), and punctuation errors should be left to our students. These guidelines will help us (and you) greatly.

visual editor

jd banks

contributors grant minagawa (PA) Grant once wrote the "Secret Adventures of Rekio the Lion" a long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. When not serving time in the building nicknamed "the Deathstar", he enjoys taking pictures and traveling with his little wooden padawan.

elizabeth reuter (PA) Elizabeth Reuter has prepared for summer by honing her incredible ability to find a fan anywhere and hog all its cooling glory. She loves writing and Okinawa, and is thus considering making her second novel about Okinawa. And giant monsters. A book always needs giant monsters.

tom becskehazy Tom B. is a second-year JET from Arizona, although he's been living in Okinawa since January, 2009. He loves scuba diving, hiking, and drinking beer on the beach. Or on a boat. Or pretty much anywhere, really. You can find him at Shuri HS doing bingata between classes.

jess bertubin Born in Okinawa, raised in Hawaii, Filipino by blood, but with a universal stomach. Jess can be found taking long walks for the sake of long walks or scribbling on a notebook or eating some new food - or all of the above, all at the same time!

adrian h. Adrian H. is a sleep-deprived bear from Chicago going into their 3rd year on JET. They are trying to learn too many languages at once, but don't tell them so.

kelly farrow Kelly Farrow is a school library media specialist from the Chicago area. This means that anything related to reading, books, or libraries ranks pretty high on her interest list! Sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s currently living in Haebaru with her husband, Eric.

michael king Michael King is a poet. He has been writing poetry on and off for 23 years now. Last year, he made the long and savage journey into avant-garde poetry. Anything goes!

lucas laplante Lucas LaPlante is a returning JET. Previously he spent 3 years in Oita-Ken; now he teaches junior high school in Miyako. He has been writing for most of his life, and has maintained several blogs. He hopes to be more deeply involved in the JET community this time around.

adam nakama Adam Nakama is a second-year ALT in Okinawa City. He also is a long-time on-again off-again freelance writer.

josh primiano Josh Primiano is a new JET from Boston, Massachusetts. In his free time he enjoys writing, reading, eating soba, and finding a balance between kinesis and stasis. He lives on Ishigaki Island.

loren runcie Loren Runcie is a fifth-year ALT who loves pizza, ice cream, and Capoeira (sometimes a combination of these). You can find him on any given Wednesday night at Capoeira Academy Okinawa teaching beginner classes from 7:30 â&#x20AC;&#x201C; 9:00pm.

notes from the kencho grant minagawa and elizabeth reuter Disaster safety! Need I say more? Didn’t think so. Let’s get to it then. Disaster Preparation Keep a first aid kit, a few days’ worth of food that doesn’t need refrigeration, warm clothes (this isn’t Alaska, but winter here can get quite cold), and bottled water ready because sometimes power will go out. In that case everything, including grocery stores, may shut down. Know where your local evacuation center is. If you can’t find it, ask co-workers. Stash important documents (passport, registration card) in a safe, easy-to-access place. Make your own kit here: http://www.ready.gov/basic-disaster-supplies-kit Typhoons Because Okinawa is so well prepared for typhoons, people are rarely hurt in the storms themselves. All the wind and rain, however, can cause landslides, send heavy objects through windows, and knock down telephone lines; longer typhoons can keep people inside for days, sometimes without electricity. Tape your windows and have a first-aid kit. Once the typhoon is over, go outside carefully, keeping watch for power lines and heavy objects the wind left in strange places. Don’t be the guy who forgot to bring heavy objects in from your balcony, either—one former JET left his new microwave outside, then woke up to find it had crushed his landlord’s car. Further safety tips from the US Embassy (applicable to everyone, not just Americans) here: http://japan.usembassy.gov/e/acs/tacs-typhoon.html Tsunami Those living near the coast, especially those living on the ground or first floors, are most at risk. Your local tsunami evacuation center may be different from your local earthquake evacuation center. Ask. You don’t want to be wandering alone around flooded areas with all your neighbors freaking out miles away because they realized after they got to safety that you never did. If possible, take your emergency kit—food, water, warm clothes, first aid supplies, money, important documents—with you to the shelter. Failing all else, get to the highest ground you can and don’t assume the threat is over after just one wave. Further information and tips here: http://nthmp.tsunami.gov/taw/downloads/tsunami-factsheet.pdf

Earthquake Though Okinawa is located near the active fault lines that plague mainland Japan, we rarely get more than comparatively light shaking. Still, that light shaking can dislodge objects or knock you off your feet, so standard safety precautions apply. Turn off all gas-operated appliances and open windows or doors to create exit routes in case of a collapse. Avoid glass windows, cabinets, and all large, unsecured furniture that might topple over on you. Duck under a desk, or, if one isn’t available, lie in the fetal position next to something sturdy and unlikely to tip over, like a sofa or bed, and cover your head. After the earthquake ends, exit the building quickly and follow any instructions given by local authorities. If you are driving, pull over and remain in your vehicle. When the earthquake ends, do not exit without checking for high-voltage power lines touching your car. If any are, stay inside without touching any exposed metal objects until rescue workers arrive. Further tips and instructions here: http://earthquakecountry.org/sevensteps/ Follow-up Contact your embassy, your supervisor/BoE, and your PA. Most importantly, contact your mother. Trust me, you don’t want to be on the other end of the, “Why didn’t you contact me?!” call, followed by nightly checkups that you will receive forever. And of course, I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the little, everyday crises that happen to everyone, but especially newcomers adjusting to a new culture. Remember there’s a plethora of counseling resources available to you including us PAs, the JET Line (03-5213-1729) on weekdays during business hours, the AJET Line every day from 8 PM to 8 AM (050-5534-5566) and TELL (03-5774-0992) weekdays from 9 AM to 11 PM. You will get information in this and more in the workshops at this year’s Skill Development Conference (SDC) from November 21st to 22nd. Happy new JET year to all!

first impressions josh primiano

I don't think it's easy to have a bad first impression of Japan, no matter how hard you try. The JET Program has certainly made transitioning to life here wonderfully easy and rewarding, at least. Not that it would have been difficult, anyway. It seems that Okinawa is the windfall of the JET lottery. I've never seen so many beautiful sights in such a short time; from the crystal-clear, sapphire-blue waters right in my backyard, to the terrifying, yet oddly transfixing, mixture of cloud and sky churning overhead during a tropical storm – which I've experienced twice already in my short time here. And then there's the people, the food, the zany television programs...the list goes on. I'd like to share a story from my first week in Yaeyama. I hadn't been in Ishigaki more than a few days before my supervisor asked if I wanted to go to Iriomote Island to assist the office with showing a group of students from Hokkaido the sights. Not having seen the sights myself, I jumped at the opportunity. Little did I know, however, that the first day on the island would be spent in a sweltering school gym watching ten-year-olds play basketball. For some reason my supervisor neglected to tell me that the true reason for the Hokkaidans' visit to Iriomote was a basketball tournament. I sat for hours watching the kids play basketball with more finesse than I've ever managed, all the while sweating right through my brand-new broadcloth button-down shirt and Dockers. To say that I was out of place would be putting it lightly. I stuck out like a giant sore thumb that day, and every interested kid, with curious eyes and agape mouths, made sure I knew it. I soldiered on, determined not to show any weaknesses. I used my chopsticks expertly in front of the students to whispered exclamations of “Sugoi”, made sure

to sink whatever baskets were offered to me between games, and dared not complain about the five-sizes-too-small sandals I had been given to wear in the gym. I was making my own first impressions that day. It paid off. After the games ended, we took the students to a small hotel in an even smaller town tucked into a tiny, seemingly private bay hidden among the surrounding cliffs and hills. What began as an exercise in awkward interactions ended as an easy-going barbecue. The students no longer eyed me warily and silently, but instead sang the most disjointed version of the ABCs I'd ever heard to get my attention. One was even brave enough to try conversing with me, suddenly appearing at my hip, questioning loudly, “Hi, where are you from?” Their teachers likewise reciprocated, trying their best to speak with me in English while I practiced responding in Japanese. Over the course of the evening, we ate and drank our fill and then some (and I experienced my first real case of culture shock: seeing a teacher smoke and drink right in front of his students). I saw fresh sashimi prepared from a fish caught earlier that very day; a comically-large bottle of sake appeared from nowhere and was quickly consumed; the party quieted as we watched the sun set above the water, perfectly framed between the distant, vanishing cliffs.

The Japanese tradition of giving speeches at social events is both strange and wonderful to me.

“I’ve never seen so many beautiful sights in such a short time...” As the speeches began that night, I prepared myself to sit back and listen to the harsh, beautiful language that is Japanese. Luckily, my supervisor sat beside me and translated quietly into my ear. I'm glad he did, for if not I would have missed out on a truly moving speech from my kacho, a gifted speechmaker. Though a slight man, he effortlessly commands the attention of everyone present whenever he talks. That night was my first taste of his gifted elocution, and I won't forget his words any time soon. He gave thanks to the Hokkaidans for coming to Iriomote and experiencing life in Okinawa, as brief as their stay was. It had always been an honor for him to foster relations between peoples from all over Japan and the world. Even though we come from different places and cultures, he said, we still live under the same sky and share the same earth, so that really there are no different peoples, but one race of humans working together. I was deeply touched by his words, not only because I realized for the first time just how different the Japanese are among themselves and how fortunate I was to be there at that meeting of extremes - north and south, Nihonjin and Uchinanchu; I was touched because I knew that, in part, his words were meant for me as much as for the Hokkaidans. He crafted his words carefully enough to include me, the outsider, the one true foreigner in the whole group, a young kid he's known for only a few days. The party evolved into the adults laughing gaily, sitting in (or I should say, spilling into) the middle of the street. Pictures were taken, friends were made, cultural differences were thoroughly dissected and appropriately mocked. After a time, we all fell silent, staring up at the Milky Way. I lived in Santa Fe, New Mexico for the past few years

and thought I knew what a light pollution-free night sky was. That night in Iriomote made me realize just how little I know. Numberless stars and planets twinkled above us, the endless highway of light shone so bright that I cast a shadow on the ground. All of a sudden, a belief in a higher power that dwells in the firmament didn't seem so far-fetched. Maybe we could all use a dose of the night sky as it really looks every now and then. Regardless, there we were: a dozen or so humans from a dozen or so walks of life thrown together by something unknown, some force that saw fit to put us there on that little island. I was reminded of a poem by Walt Whitman which ends with the narrator looking “up in perfect silence at the stars,” which is exactly what we did. I don't know where I am. I truly don't. Whenever I think I've gotten a handle on the world around me, something else pops up and pulls the rug out from under me. Not a day has passed where I haven't seen something that literally stops me in my tracks. But despite the strangeness of this country and its extremely idiosyncratic people, I'm beginning to feel at home here--at least, as much at home as a foreigner can feel in Japan. It began that night on Iriomote, where despite being jetlagged, unintelligible to all but two people, and a gaijin par excellence, I was welcomed warmly and genuinely. If the Japanese were trying to impress me, they did their job. But it wasn't about that. They were simply living life the way they know how, not being afraid to show themselves completely, with naked honesty, to an outsider. I only hope I can do the same.

mind the courtesy

GAP lucas laplante

Living in Japan has highlighted for me every day that there is a large gap between Western and Japanese standards for politeness. A gaping chasm, really. Japanese society, having evolved over hundreds of years towards a very structured and hierarchical state of organization, takes politeness and formality very seriously. This is understandable but difficult to adapt to sometimes, especially for those of us who tend toward bluntness and generally don't like to sugarcoat anything. As someone who attended a Catholic school where the standards were wearing uniforms, attending masses, and a “killthem-with-kindness” approach, I rebelled against these and detest excessive formality. To me, it rang of insincerity, and I came to appreciate and admire people who simply speak their minds without bothering with all the window dressing. If we're talking role models, think Dennis Leary, George Carlin, or more recently, Christopher Hitchens. I should clarify at this point that I am indeed aware that consideration of others is a fundamental building block which successful societies are built; there is no denying this. Where I draw the line, however, is in taking others’ consideration too far in the vain and counter-productive hope that you may avoid hurting anyone's feelings. A very apt term that I've heard to describe this is “disease to please”. While it's generally a good idea to be a decent human being, spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about what others think of you is not only tiring but ultimately futile, as there is ultimately little you can

do about it. Despite whatever precautions you may take, there will always be someone who insists on taking offence, and so I generally find it best for my own personal sanity to save my energy for more productive endeavors. I'm certainly willing to admit that Western civilization could stand to learn a lot from the Japanese. We can be, at times, a little too blunt, bordering on crudity or thoughtlessness, and this is the other extreme to be avoided. I'm reminded of the time that Ghandi was asked what he thought of Western civilization. He replied, “I think it would be a very good idea.” I believe that there is a happy middle ground to be reached, and perhaps this is why I've worked so hard to help build bridges between our respective cultures. The most important thing is to get to the truth and to attempt to honestly answer whatever questions we collectively face. Western countries are quite good at this, but in the public sphere (especially lately) we would do well to remember that we are all in this together, and this notion is one that Japanese society truly understands. I am a staunch admirer of the mutually supportive nature of every Japanese community, and I believe that Western culture can learn a lot from this example. Politeness and formality do have their place, but they must not prevent important questions from being asked, even if these questions are sometimes uncomfortable. I hope that as the world becomes increasingly inter-connected, we can also learn from one another and find a middle road that draws from the best of every culture.

just roll with it Brazilian Jiujitsu helped me survive the JET experience jess bertubin

The conversation always starts with, “What is Brazilian Jiujitsu (BJJ)?” To the students and staff at my school who don’t speak English, I simply answer that it’s a combination of judo and wrestling. Actually, I say the same thing to people who speak English because it really is the easiest way to explain BJJ. It’s a sport that, at first glance, looks very painful and confusing – painful because throwing and choking really looks unpleasant and confusing because it’s actually a very technical sport that makes it hard for the casual observer to understand. I've studied several different martial arts in my life, and martial art itself has become a friend that has kept me sane and helped me feel confident in my self-defense abilities. But after years of learning stand-up techniques, I realized that knowing how to defend myself when the fight went to the ground was the most important thing for a small female like me. But what I didn’t know at the time was that BJJ actually has a very peaceful philosophy embedded within its practice. The months since arriving in Okinawa have been quite hard. I’m very grateful that I was placed in Okinawa. At least here, I can find little bits of home – my home in Hawaii when I see hibiscuses and pineapples, my grandparents’ home in the Philippines when I feel the barest whisper of a breeze while sweating in the humid heat, and my childhood memories of home here in Okinawa when I eat kokutou or zenzai. But even with these soothing moments, I had been ending my days feeling very drained and frustrated. I knew that I needed to find something to do and so I took to searching for my old friend, martial arts. At first, I thought about looking into karate because what better place to study karate but the place in which it was born? But I wasn’t looking for something rigid or too caught up in tradition. I wanted something with history and also an appreciation for relaxed creativity. So I ended up turning once more to BJJ. I found Oceania BJJ Okinawa by what seemed like chance. But when I stepped inside the academy, I knew I’d both found an old friend and where I would be finding new friends. I’ve only been training for several weeks, but every time I go to BJJ class, no matter how tired I am when I arrive, I always leave with a grin on my face.

One of the first times I sparred with my instructor, however, unnerved me to no end. During our session, my instructor became very passive, to the point of not doing anything. I found myself blanking out because usually I’m on the defensive, trying to control things so I don’t get crushed. This situation of total unresponsiveness threw me completely for a loop – and it led to my being thrown into a choke because I ended up doing nothing at all. At school, I’ve been faced with similar unresponsiveness. There continue to be times when a class refuses to participate, either becoming dead silent or filling the room with a cacophony of unchecked rowdiness. Afterwards, teachers often give some comments, offering some reasoning for the students’ behavior and a bit of encouragement to me. But it’s never more than a few words, and I’m always left unsettled, unsure, and not knowing at all what I should do. In the last couple of weeks, I thought about just not trying, because no matter what I did, it didn’t seem to make a difference. This week, Oceania BJJ had a visitor from mainland Japan named Arley. Watching him spar with other people was so much fun. Arley had a very different game, trying all sorts of positions and being extremely creative. I understood while watching him why BJJ calls sparring sessions “rolling.” For one thing, Arley never stopped. Even when he was in a bad position, he kept going, kept trying something new. He rolled with whatever he was given and, I realized, he simply didn’t give up. Every time he rolled, he put 100% of himself out there. He took advantage of the good moments and worked through the hard ones. At the end of each roll, he always had this look like he’d had the best time of his life. That look was also on the faces of the people he rolled with. I rolled with Arley during a sparring game and although I had no idea what he was doing or what I should do in response, it was thrilling to be met with such a different situation. I lost during that roll, but what I gained in terms of experience far outweighed the notion of “winning” and “losing.” I realized then that the classroom is like that, too. I might not be able to force my students to listen to me, but I know that there are some who will. I just have to remember to keep rolling with whatever I’m given, to keep trying and never give up, and above all, just enjoy the ride.

capoeira loren runcie Capoeira is an art form that combines a martial art with music, dance, game, and tradition. It was developed in Brazil sometime in the 16th century as a type of resistance by slaves of African descent. Today, it is a unique form of personal expression and enrichment enjoyed by a worldwide community (Words do it no justice. You should look it up!). There are many debates from spectators or newcomers to the art (especially on YouTube) as to whether to classify Capoeira as a dance or a martial art. The more one learns about Capoeira, however, the more one finds out that there is much more to it than those two classifications suggest. Sure, one can learn self-defense through Capoeira. It can be used very effectively as a martial art, and has as much depth and requires as much discipline as any other. One can also learn how to move with the rhythm, timing, and grace that serve as a strong foundation for any number of dance styles. However, the true hidden magic of Capoeira, in my opinion, lies in its sense of community. People who are drawn to Capoeira come from a wide spectrum of backgrounds, each with their own reasons for falling in love with the art. You can learn so much from everyone, inside and outside of the roda (hoe – da: the circle of people where Capoeira is played or performed). I wasn't exaggerating when I said “worldwide community”. It is becoming harder and harder to find places in the world that don’t have a Capoeira school. I love that it is entirely feasible that I could be in some random country right now, playing capoeira with strangers; sharing a sense of movement and our unique cultures with each other (not to mention having a blast!). I always try to find Capoeira wherever I go. Capoeira practitioners, or Capoeiristas, are generally very welcoming and friendly, no matter where they live. That's just the culture of Capoeira. I haven't heard of anyone who has seriously committed to Capoeira, done it for several years, and hasn't had it transform their life for the better. That's a bold statement, I know, and quite amazing when I stop to think about it, but it's very true. A lot of people are swayed away from trying Capoeira because it looks so hard, but what they don't take into account is that nobody is asking you to be an amazing athlete or dancer when you first come. All you have to do is enjoy yourself and do what you can. Over time, you will witness yourself becoming something more amazing than you were when you started.

沖縄

pro-wreslting adrian h.

The lights went out and two performers slid into the square-shaped stage. The smaller of the two excitedly bounced from foot to foot. The larger one shouted through his shimmering blue face mask. “Welcome to Okinawa Pro Wrestling!” He explained the breakdown of matches; there will be two one-on-one battles with a short break, followed by a two-on-two showdown to close out the night.

During a brief intermission, my friends and I bought matching black T-shirts featuring an announcer from the beginning of the show. Other items for sale included towels and shirts for other wrestlers, DVDs, pins, replicas of face masks, as well as spools of paper ribbons to toss into the ring as the wrestlers were being announced. Various helpers scrambled to gather all of them before they had touched the ground.

The first match was between Ryukyu Dog and Tiida Heat. Tiida’s shorts and face mask were red and gold, showcasing elaborate flames of the sun. I liked him immediately. His opponent wore black pleather briefs with the words “ATE YOUR BABY,” flying across his derriere in hot pink. At first they locked left hands, sizing one another up. The two pursued each other in the ring, bouncing off the ropes to clothesline the other. Some blows were clearly faked but some were convincing enough that I’m not sure whether there wasn’t actual impact. They slammed each other into the floor. There was a moment when The Dingo had Tiida’s back pressed against the back of his knees, and he pushed Tiida’s body up toward the ceiling. It looked painful! The Dingo pinned Tiida eventually, taking Tiida a long time to gather himself from the floor. He hobbled out of the ring, clutching his head, and stumbled a few times. Poor guy.

Finally, the two-on-two showdown began. It looked to be a match between rising newbies and their experienced senpai. The former was embodied by Super Mantarou in an all-black body suit with a white manta ray on his face mask, and Princess Mango in a mostly-orange body suit but with adorable royal attachments, like a white cape and a tiara, shiny mangos covering her ears. The senpai were Kyusei Ninja Ranmaru, a sturdy woman in bright pink and yellow ninja garb, and Gurukun Mask in bright blue and black wrestling pants and the shiniest angry fish design on his face mask. Ranmaru took a second to bring the senpai-kouhai dynamic to light. She asked each wrestler how long they had been in the business. Super Mantarou had 2 months, Princess Mango had 5 months, Gurukun Mask had 12 years, and Ranmaru herself had been doing this for 15 years. Shortly after the banter, a tag-team match began. Ranmaru seemed to enjoy batting Princess Mango to the floor as she was pinned in strange positions. Their partners tagged them both out, and Super Mantarou and Gurukun Mask took turns hurling themselves at the ropes, at the floor, at one another. It was hard to contain your reaction as a viewer while this is going on. I unconsciously let out more “OOOOH!” and “God Damn!”s than I had since watching Breaking Bad. There were plenty of campy moments; Princess Mango being double-kicked by her older compatriots; Super Mantarou and Gurukun Mask getting a face full of water straight from Ranmaru’s lips. I noticed that Hibiscus Mii, Tiida and Golden Eagle were all standing behind the corners of the ring, banging their fists on the ground and yelling out encouragement. The children behind us cheered for both sides of the match. When the young’uns tired out, they were pinned, and the match was called in favor of the veterans. Once we had taken pictures striking poses with each wrestler, we went to find nourishment, riding pretty high on the energy still lingering in the air.

The second match started after a very short break. The first combatant, an olderman in red wrestling pants and yellow lace-up boots, entered the ring and waited for his applause, He triggered all the WWE nostalgia humanly possible. His name was Captain Eagle, and if Hulk Hogan and Dr. Robotnik had a baby, he would be it. The mask on his head was mostly silver; a thin, red Ninja Turtle mask across his eyes with a golden eagle spread out where a mustache should had been. The top of the mask was a red bandana covering long yellow strips of fabric that smacked so much of the Hulk you’d expect them to say “brother.” His opponent, Hibiscus Mii, entered the ring with short black boots, slightly baggy red and black plaid pants, a matching middrift baring top and a shock of bleached blonde hair. She radiated fierceness and cuteness. The match began, and for a while, it was only Eagle grabbing a fistful of Mii’s hair while she squirmed. Eventually he stomped on her foot and she sobbed loudly, “Iya daaaaa!” They threw one another around the ring, flipping one another onto the floor, kicking out of pins at the very last second until it was too late for Captain Eagle. Mii was declared the winner.

The Ryukyu Dragon Pro Wrestling Organization runs shows seemingly every weekend. Details can be found here.

YSP putting up with bs adam nakama When I arrived in Okinawa, I established a good relationship with my coordinator. He would often give me advice and help me figure out how to adjust to life in a new country without making me feel foolish As a huge fan of running, my coordinator runs at least one marathon every year. Seeing him work so hard—and seeing how much weight I’d gained since age 20—made me want to start running again, too. Naturally, I told him about this, and he got excited. In this way, I learned about something called “ekiden” (駅伝). Ekiden are basically long-distance races, but rather than each individual trying to push themselves to the finish, the suffering is distributed amongst a group. Here in Okinawa there are a few major ekiden, and a group of teachers from each school will run, usually one or two people at a time. As people are running, the rest of the group from the school follows along in a van and will stop every once in a while to rotate out who is running. Each individual has to work hard and persevere through running long distances, but whether a race is finished depends on the group effort, not any one person. When you cross the finish line, you do it together, and the achievement belongs to everyone, from the fastest to the slowest. I’ve joined many ekiden for my schools. While I’m not necessarily fast, people know that I run. So halfway through my first year, there was an ekiden held at my base school to celebrate the retirement of a well-liked teacher. Naturally, I volunteered to

run, but it wasn’t until a few days before the race that I learned that I had been volunteered to run an entire half of the race. Other people would be jumping in and out of the following van, but little lonely me would be plodding along for the entire eighteen kilometers from Kaichuu Douro, a road in the middle of the ocean, to my high school on the edge between Okinawa and Uruma City. Who volunteered me? My coordinator did, never asking me. Technically, I didn’t have to run eighteen kilometers. In fact, that’s exactly what he told me: “You don’t have to do it, but don’t you think you should?” He smiled and patted me on the shoulder. “It will be fun.” I wondered aloud if he was going to go. “No, I’m busy,” he said. “But if you just run the first half, I’ll take over and run the second half.” As you have likely discovered for yourself by now, any question that begins with “aren’t you” or “don’t you” is actually a command in disguise. Well, not quite a command. But if you don’t take the hint, there tends to be serious social consequences. This is what in Okinawan slang is called YSP, which stands for “Yakkee Shiija Power,” a blend of the Okinawan language and English that basically means, “Annoying Senior (先輩) Power.” In Japanese culture, individuals in your group who are a little older than you is called senpai, or “senior.” In theory, since they have more time and experi-

“It’s easy to allow yourself to forever stay at the bottom of the social hierarchy in the office--or to ignore it entirely—but you don’t have to.” ence under their belts, you should respect them as a little higher in the hierarchy and look to them for advice and assistance. In return, they have a kind of obligation to look out for you and make sure you are on the right track. If they give you “advice,” you are expected to take it almost without exception. By the time of the ekiden, my coordinator had become less of a boss and more of a senpai for me. His “suggestion” that I run eighteen kilometers was an unavoidable obligation. So, despite barely running that much distance spread out over the week, I found myself plodding over eighteen kilometers of ocean-soaked concrete step by painful step with an ever-rotating cast of cheerful and well-rested teachers to keep me motivated, and to keep me from running headlong into traffic in order to end the pain. Although a bit extreme, my experience was not unusual. In fact, dealing with this is so common that there is multilingual slang for it, and after running myself to the point of exhaustion, I truly understood the meaning of YSP. One of the best ways to fit in here is to simply accept it and do your best to accommodate your seniors when they make absurd requests of you. But be careful: in so doing, many older ALTs make a mistake that costs them some social capital. In Japan, the complexities of social status in multiple interweaving systems (age, gender, job title, etc.) have an all-encompassing effect on social interac-

tions. Most of us, as foreigners, exist nebulously at the top, bottom, and outside these systems all at once, but with time and sensitivity we can work our way into the bottom of the ladder like a “proper” individual in society. Doing so helps us feel like we belong, but it also comes with many of the same expectations put on others in Japanese society. One of those expectations is that as your status rises, you are expected to act in an appropriate way. That includes helping and guiding those lower than you, and also exerting some YSP at times. Status is often accorded at the level we act like we deserve, so even if you are higher up on the ladder than someone by virtue of being older or at the job longer, if you don’t act appropriately, you will soon find that your 後輩 (kouhai; your junior peer) will start acting like your senpai. You become forever the friendly foreign stranger in the office, or at best perpetually on the bottom of the food chain. It’s easy to allow yourself to forever stay at the bottom of the social hierarchy in the office--or to ignore it entirely—but you don’t have to. With a little bit of time and care, even if you’re only staying for one or two years you can find yourself an integral and respected part of your work culture and get more out of your JET experience. You can also try and con some of your younger coworkers into running a half-marathon while you watch and laugh. Just be a good senpai and buy them lunch and cheer them on from the sidelines.

deegu and

bungaya part 2

tom becskehazy

Previously Deegu is a red-headed young woman from Ichuman Village with an unfortunate affliction: flatulence that curdles milk and withers plants. Bungaya is a kijimuna from a nearby forest with a weakness for redheads, fish eyes, and loin cloths. In the first half of the story, Bungaya promised to cure Deegu’s gaseous curse in exchange for her hand in marriage. Will his cure work? Will they be married? Will this itchy rash on my nethers ever go away? Read on to find out in the conclusion of “Deegu and Bungaya.”

fter three days and nights, Bungaya came to Deegu and said, “I have something for you. It is an elixir made from the island’s sweetest smelling flowers and purest spring water. Drink this, and nothing else, for seven days and you shall be cured.” The elixir tasted awful, but Deegu noticed after three days that her vapors began to take on a floral bouquet. By the seventh day, she released nothing but the softest, most delicate of farts, smelling of fresh rain, cut grass, and jasmine. “Bungaya, you have cured me. I will marry you tomorrow at sunset,” said Deegu, smiling down at him as she squeezed out a few perfume-scented poots. Bungaya's hair turned a deep shade of red, and with a satisfied smile on his face, he headed to his treetop home to prepare it for his new bride. Deegu returned to Ichuman, hopeful that the villagers would finally accept her and bless her union. However, when they heard that she was to wed a kijimuna they grew angry, shouting, “We have tolerated your foul stench for years, but this is too much. Soon we will have all of our young women being taken in by the kijimuna’s trickery.” They forced her into the yuta’s house and deliberated as to the best course of action… That night, Bungaya sneaked into the village, slipped into the yuta’s house, and soon had Deegu in his arms. Anticipating this, the villagers surrounded the house, waving octopuses and farting in anger. Sobbing, Deegu clutched Bungaya as the noise outside grew louder.

Many villagers held torches for light and warmth, and as the size of the crowd increased, so did the frequency of their flatulence. A flash of light split the night as the torches ignited a dozen pockets of gas. The villagers scattered, but it was too late. Soon a brilliant blaze lit the center of the village as the yuta’s house was consumed by fire. The villagers tried to put it out, but it burned with an intensity that turned buckets of thrown water into steam. “Look!” said the yuta, as luminous red flower petals floated away from the highest flames into the night sky. They swirled and danced in the night wind, carving bright crimson slashes into the darkness before disappearing behind the smoke. The fire burned until first light. When only smoldering ash remained, the villagers poked through the rubble. Seeds the color of obsidian sat in the center of the ruined house, but of Deegu or Bungaya there was no sign. The villagers left the seeds sitting there, fearful of the doomed pair’s vengeful spirits, and later that day the wind scattered them into the forests surrounding Ichuman. No one spoke of the incident again. The people of Ichuman noticed a curious thing the following spring. Trees the size of young men sprang up almost overnight throughout the nearby forest. Soon they grew larger than most houses, sprouting thorns the size of a baby’s fingers and flowers the color of a sunset. The yuta, mindful of the destruction that fear and hate had caused, named the trees “deigo” out of respect for those who had perished, and warned the villagers to be careful when touching the branches. The prick of a thorn, she said, would burn like fire.

Perched atop Mozzarella Mountain in the Lower Motobu Range, just south of Tomato Town and to the east of Pizza Crust Canyon, is the fabled Pizza in the Sky. Those lucky enough to find it will be treated to a sumptuous meal of pizza, some other stuff that I can’t remember, and also pizza, usually with corn on it. As we all know, Motobu might as well be on the moon. There are those who say that, in fact, Motobu does not even exist, and “the North” is just a made-up place (see also Lilliput or Canada) people use as an excuse for not being somewhere else.

piza kissa basunuya (ピザ喫茶ばーすぬ家 ) restaurant review by tom becskehazy

Location: 〒902-0076 沖縄県那覇市与儀 2-12-19 Phone Number: 050-5799-5144 [火～月] Tuesday – Monday 営業時間: 11:00～20:00 (Last Order 19:00) 定休日日曜日: Closed on Tuesdays, 4th Mondays

For example: “Sorry I couldn’t be at your oneman show of Big Trouble in Little China last night! I was in the North at Pizza in the Sky with some friends.” See how ridiculous that sounds? So, if you live in a civilized area like Naha, you simply don’t have time to put up with fairy tales about sky pizzas. You’re living the life of a jet-setter, and between the cocktail parties, gallery openings, modeling, and meetings with investors, you need a pizza place that will provide you with: 1) A cozy atmosphere 2) The opportunity to see and be seen 3) Tchotchkes galore 4) A quiet (but not too quiet) location 5) Ample parking 6) A cute little bathroom 7) A landscaped garden 8) Wood floors 9) A tatami room with chabudai and zabuton 10) Tasty pizza That place exists in Naha in a little neighborhood called Yogi, and its name is… BASUNUYA! It is rumored to be the sister restaurant of Pizza in the Sky, though the owners can neither confirm nor deny this (perhaps this is because I have never asked them).

The pizza is certainly very similar to its supposed northern sibling—heavy on the cheese, relatively little sauce, and a springy, moist, and savory crust. Oh, and corn.

large is ￥2,100), and takeout is available upon request. Be warned that it takes about 40 minutes from the time you order until the pie is in your hot little hands.

In addition to the main cheese pie, they have recently added two new pizzas: a goya pizza that is covered with the eponymous bitter gourd, and an avocado and tomato pizza. All three can be ordered in three different sizes (a small is ￥1,100, a medium is ￥1,600, and a

What else do you need to know? It’s conveniently located, it’s delicious, and it’s reasonably priced. Get to Basunuya!

where in the world is

rekio the lion? by grant minagawa

Welcome to another installment of “Where in the World is Rekio the Lion!” Rekio the Lion is a sneaky little Shisa Ninja from Hong Kong. He lives in Okinawa and travels the world looking for adventure! Our hero finds himself in an Olympic park, in front of a place nicknamed the “bird’s nest”! Where could he be?? Turn to page 32 for the answer!

too many

books?

bring them to sdc! Look for the Book Table in the Main Building. Missed SDC? You can also put a picture of your books on the JET Book Trading Facebook!

spotted miniature libraries kelly farrow Hello! I’m brand new to Okinawa and am still getting used to things here. My husband and I try to go somewhere new every week and do lots of exploring. One thing we’ve come across in our travels are miniature neighborhood libraries! We found one in Yonabaru (the blue one with a red roof). The one with Doraemon on it we found while driving around Nanjo. The Nanjo one was locked when we came upon it (perhaps it has “business hours?”), but the Yonabaru one was open and available to anyone. You could either grab a book to read or drop one off that you’d finished and wanted to share. This is the coolest idea and should be adopted by every neighborhood, town, or homeowners’ association in all of our home countries, don’t you think? Many of us are already blessed with amazing public libraries, but this puts a different spin on that idea and takes the literature right to the people. I love it!

If you find any

more of these,

please send a p

icture to k.lynn

e.farrow@gma

il.com!

visual poetry michael king

I am sure that visual poetry will be a new concept to a lot of you readers, and honestly it is not your fault that you are not as cultured as I. To help you, I have prepared a short how-to on visual poetry appreciation. Poetry has been a medium for approximately 47,000 years. Poetic historians actually trace it back to pre-human times. Nicole Richie famously said, “‘[T]he act of cumming itself is poetry to me’.” Others claim the courting cry of the (now extinct) Bulgarian goose was and is as much a poem as the Demetrio Delfondre’s ‘Once onto the Belgium Fort’ or Chad Kroeger’s ‘Hero’. In the day and age of 4D cinema with actual smells, it is no wonder the written or spoken poem is going extinct. Time to rethink poetry. Of course there are people who disagree. There always are. But Galileo got nowhere from listening to his harshest critics. So here it is—the new wave. Ride it with me. High-five me as your surfboard nearly clips mine. The wave will take us far. You will see. How to appreciate visual poetry: 1. As with regular poetry, it is as much about what you don’t see as what you do see. For example there is not a picture of a lemon with legs. Why? Think about that. 2. Sequence is everything. You can’t read the lines of a poem in a random order without changing the effect. It is the same. Look at it in sequence. 3. There are no rules. 4. There are so many rules! 5. Don’t just look at it. Feel it, taste it, rub it, enter it. Impregnate it; support it during the gestation period; raise it as your own even though you know it belongs to another.

ryuuka jester haze

There are things I didn't expect when i moved to a foreign land. One of which was clearly cooking for the sake of myself alone. Two filets is too much. When we exchanged our last goodbyes music was playing from your car "Everything means nothing to me," Elliot sighs into the air. It is way too emo. Someone wipes sweat from their forehead another lets out a sad groan as we plunge our spoons once again foolishly in the Big Mountain death by Blue Seal OD.

announcements Call for Contributors

Want to see your name in print? We’d love to put it there! The Ryukyu Star is accepting submissions for our winter issue through December 6th—articles, photos, illustrations, games, anything! Email any contributions to ryukyustar@ajet.net.

Comments? Questions? Your feedback is always welcome. Feel free to contact us at ryukyustar@ajet.net.

Calendar

October 7-8 – Ken JET In terviews: Main land Okinawa and Kume 11 – Ken JET In terviews: 14 – Health an d Sports Day November 3 – Culture Day 4 – Culture Day (observed) 7-8 – PA Confe rence 19-21 – CIR Mid -Year Conferen ce 21-22 – Skills D evelopment Co nference December 9-13 – Translati on and Interpre tation Course Trainin g Seminar 23 – Emperor’s Birthday 30 – Start of N ew Year Holiday

Love reading? No room to keep the books? Hated the book but maybe another soul would love it? The JET Book Trading Group is all about reading and recirculating the books in your possession to other readers. Just post your titles online and if youâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re willing to give it away or trade with others. Find us on Facebook at www.facebook. com/groups/jetbooktrading.

is Rekio d rl o W e th in re e h W the Lion? Answer Beijing National Stadium, Beijing, China