Greener Acres

The Saenz family is geographically fortunate in this respect. They live in an ever so slightly less populated area that we do down in Yokosuka. Via train, they enjoy ready access to some of the more rural areas, such as they are, in this part of Japan. I wanted to get away from the urban world for a while a look upon greener acres. Taking advantage of the Saenz hospitality and ability to navigate the rail network, we took a train to Mitake where, after a walk down a steep paved road, we came upon a nature park dotted with points of interest and eateries along the Tama River.

All along the 20-minute train ride through the countryside I never saw but a hand full of plots of land more than three or four acres in size. This is a terribly mountainous part of the country. Many homes and small businesses hug the hillsides along the track like a cat clinging fast to tree limb. I even saw a cemetery on a hillside that reminded of gray moss creeping up a boulder. These people are hurting for space. I can't help but think of home and say God bless the wide open spaces of the U.S.A.

The Tama River, running swiftly below the footbridge we are standing on, is swelled with rushing water from the melting snow in the mountains to the west.

With a little imagination this Buddhist temple looks a bit like a tree house from some Tarzan movie. Truth is, the temple is firmly planted on the steep hillside.

On what looked like a brushy slope of perhaps 45 degrees we came across this cemetery. The occupants, no doubt Buddhists, were likely cremated and interred here.

For another perspective CLICK HERE.

Lost in Transition

This morning, just as I said we would, Melba and I took a base taxi from our apartment tower to the Yokosuka-Chuo train station. We planned to spend the weekend with Ronda and Rene Saenz and their kids at Yokota Air Force Base, only forty miles from Yokosuka. They would be happy to show us some of the sights in their neck-of-the-woods. They have been in Japan for over a year now y ya saben como corre el agua. Getting there would be a two-hour train ride requiring us to switch train lines twice. Confidently, we set off. After struggling a couple of minutes with the ticket machine we secured our train passes, boarded, and twenty-five minutes later we pulled into our first stop at Yokohama Station. That is when the trouble began. The thing about trouble in its Japanese manifestation is that it sneaks up on you like a ninja. I never saw it coming. It began with the names of train stops.

You try and keep names like this straight in your head; Higashi Fussa, Keikyu, Hachiko, Hachioji, Jimmuji, Kanazawa, and a long string of others. I tried and my 'from-the-sticks' brain failed me. I had written instructions spelling out in detail how to get from point A to point B. According to the schedule, the next train change would occur about fifty-three minutes after the Yokohama stop, but the station name wasn't to be found on any of the stops that the train was making. My mistake was boarding a train network in a foreign country without a rail map. After an hour on this line we pulled into Tokyo Station and I became increasingly suspicious that we weren't headed in right direction. Five stops later we stepped off the train at Akabane Station, absolutely lost.

It would have helped if I could speak a smidgen of Japanese, but I can only say hello, and hello doesn't do anyone much good when one is lost in transition. Thank God for the cell phone. We called Ronda and Rene who by now were already at Fussa Station near Yokota Air Force Base waiting for us.

"Hello, Rene? Help! We're lost!"

Studying his rail map, of which I was stupidly minus of at my location, Rene informed me that Akabane Station was for one, nowhere between our respective points A and B, and two, it was north of central Tokyo. A blind and deaf man could not have been more lost than we were.

Using his map, Rene expertly plotted a course to the Fussa Station where they were waiting. We boarded the train again, and then finally, what should have been a train ride of a little over two hours from its inception, I had managed to stretch to just over three.

What weighs heavily on me now is that we have to get back the same way we got here, only in reverse. I wish I had put the Our Lady of Loreto medallion that Janie Lopez had given me on the eve of our departure to Japan in my pocket today. I could have used some guidance from above.

Cost of this adventure? ¥3200 (3200 yen), about $28.

We're Not in Kansas Anymore

The break in the recent rains afforded me a chance to wander off the reservation today. Since Melba and I are going to brave the Japanese train network tomorrow for a trip to Yokota, I thought it best to venture off-base and have a look at the Yokosuka Chuo Train Station with my own eyes. It's best if surprises are left to birthdays and Christmas mornings rather than to a busy Saturday on a train platform in a foreign country.

Naturally, being sans car, I walked. At my pace the station is 25-minutes away, and I've been told I walk fast. What this means is that we will be calling a taxi in the morning. I don't see us risking a walk of that length in the morning. The weather calls for more rain, and Melba and I have had enough of the Gene Kelly routine.

I believe that for the first time in my life I felt more like a traveler than a tourist as I took this walk on the busy streets and sidewalks of Yokosuka. There was no sensation of..., for lack of a better word I will just make up one, ...temporaryiness. I am here on Japanese soil for the duration of my wife's teaching contract; two years. To a little tejanito ranch kid from South Texas, away from friends and family, you can't hardly form a sentence with the words temporary and two years in it. The words will get caught in your throat long before they are formed by the mouth. Yet, here we are; temporarily away from home for two years.

Seven blocks south of the base gate, down Blue street, one comes to the Chuo Station. It's a busy place, as you can imagine. A bank of automated ticket machines line the wall outside. Everything on the ticket machine screens is in Japanese, but at the touch of a button from a knowing hand, the screen switches to instructions in English. God, don't you just love technology? Satisfied that there was nothing to fear at the station, except the fear of getting on the wrong train headed in the wrong direction, I headed back to the base at a more leisurely pace. I did not see one western-looking face the entire route. My mug stood out among the throng of Japanese citizenry like a pinto bean in a sea of rice.

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Almost on every block of the length of Blue Street that I walked I came across vendors hawking these colorful cell phones. From a distance the displays resembled racks of chewing gum for sale. They were everywhere.

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Melba earned both a compliment and her driver's license this morning. At the conclusion of the driving portion of her test, the instructor looked over to her and said, "You are a good driver." When I tested he didn't tell me that, but then, he only discovered what I already knew.

Best McDonald's Experience

Except for their exceptionally tasty fries, I've never been particularly fond of McDonald's. I'm a WHATABURGER man to the core. However, fifteen minutes away by foot from where we live is a McDonald's. The entire staff is manned by Japanese, or to be more exact, it is girled by young Japanese females. The first time I walked into that place I... WAS... IMPRESSED.

The place is immaculate, absolutely spotless, almost clinically spotless. But what I couldn't tear my eyes from was the hired help. Working behind the counter and in the kitchen were about a half-dozen oriental beauties, all flashing wide smiles and bright eyes. The scene gave me pause. Their jet-black hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, white blouses starched to perfection, and the black skirts they wore accentuated their femininity. They exuded complete and total professionalism. Ronald McDonald would be proud, if not charmed.

I was pleased to step up to the counter and address a young female who was not sporting a tattoo, slutty makeup or body piercings of any sort. Instead, I found that these young Asians seemed not in the least bothered taking my order. Too many times back home my order has been taken by some juvenile indifferent to the paying customer. These young Japanese ladies were all smiles. It was infectious.

I can't remember the taste of the burger I ordered, but I will not soon forget those striking porcelain-skinned beauties.

Yokosuka (yō-ˈkȯs- kä)

Here's a little video I pieced together. I apologize for the poor picture quality, but all I have to shoot video with is a little Pentax digital camera that allows for some video. More will follow.

Home Away from Home

This is home for now. For starters, it will be a Spartan existence. All the furniture is on loan from the navy until ours arrives from the States. However, once it does arrive to Yokosuka, it won't be much of a change because we didn't ship much over. Melba and I have grown fond of 'living light' since we first set foot here.

On another note, the maintenance on the base is outstanding, and it's all done by the Japanese. They look like an army of worker ants seeing to everything; from keeping the street side curbs swept clean, to major construction with heavy equipment around the base.

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The kitchen




























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From the kitchen into the livingroom




























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From the livingroom back toward the kitchen




























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One of two bedrooms. (12x12)

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Looking southwest from our balcony. The small buildings are the town-houses, three and four bedroom.














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Looking west from our balcony














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Looking northwest towards Tokyo Bay














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We even have a full-sized washer/dryer combination. Thanks Navy.

Hallelujah

Thanks to my sister, my laptop finally arrived from the States. The bubble wrap she encased in so expertly for shipping would have resisted the weight of an elephant's ass. She did a great job. I had to walk 15 minutes under an umbrella in the rain to get to the base post office to pick it up, but it was worth it. Baby! I'm connected!

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Pictured below is the Navy Lodge on Yokosuka, home for our first ten days in Japan.











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In this photo I am standing behind the Navy Lodge. The apartment tower on the right is typical of the nineteen that are on the base.











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It's hard to tell, but Melba and I are terribly homesick in this photo.












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After ten days at the Lodge we moved into Goban Tower. The oldtimers on Yokosuka said it was unlikely that we would secure on-base housing. It just doesn't happen, especially for newbies like us, but we did. God loves His mejicanitos














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The U.S. Navy on Tokyo Bay.










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Ahhhh, jijo!!! We came across a "Mexican" taco stand only a five-minute walk from the base main gate.
















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These are the Saenz'; Larissa, Ronda, and Renie, (minus Dad) the only family we have inside 6600 miles. They were good enough to drive down from Yakota Air Force Base, a long long ride on the crowded Japanese autobaun, to help ease the ache in our lonesome homesick hearts.

Miserable Day in the Neighborhood

The weather the first couple of weeks at Yokosuka reminds me a bit of South Texas'. If you don't like it, just wait five minutes. At first we were suffering sweltering heat and humidity, then we enjoyed a couple of marvelous days of cool temperatures, and now, the last two days have been constantly drizzly. Melba and I look like a pair of Morton Salt girls walking about with black umbrellas. This is miserable weather, especially when you have to walk most places. Now I know why most people wind up buying a car in Yokosuka.

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For the last twenty-five years I have had the Corpus Christi Caller delivered to my door, and save for the sports section, I have faithfully and religiously devoured its contents. These days I must contend with the online edition of the Caller. Not the same thing. I prefer the feel of the newsprint between my fingers when I read the news. I never thought I would be reading our U.S. military's edition of Stars and Stripes, but now I am.

Begin Week #3

The picture is of Yokosuka, Japan. The extreme lower right-hand corner shows the naval base. We live somewhere in that area.

Melba and I had thought that after we moved into our on-base housing we would venture beyond the base gate into Japan proper and explore a bit on Sunday. Not so..., too tired. With Melba's new job and surroundings, and with all the paper-chasing and walking we've had to deal with the past few days, we opted to relax today and stay on-base. Yeah, there is lots to be seen in the area, but we'll be here for a while. There will be time, I'm certain.

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There are a lot of ravens inhabiting this little peninsula; big black ones that produce an awful cawing sound. That's natural for them, of course, but unfortunately, it seems that the Japanese pigeons that fly around here have learned all their songs from these ravens. They sound awful. Instead of the soft cooing melody that their South Texas counterparts sing in the late afternoon at the ranch, this bunch produces a garbled coo sound that sounds like they have peanut butter stuck in the roof of their little mouths. It's not pretty at all.

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There is no smoking allowed on Yokosuka except for a very limited number of designated places. I have yet to see someone light up.

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The cable service we have on base has no commercials. All the programming is brought to us via the Armed Forces Network. The breaks are made up of service messages and info from the branches of the military. It appears that a good portion of them deal with imbibing alcohol responsibly. Young Americans do love their adult beverages.

Quiet Time

Melba was told by many of her co-workers at school that we were very fortunate to have secured on-base housing. With the limited number of on-base housing available on Yokosuka most, if not all, newcomers have to live off-base. All I can say is THANK YOU GOD for looking after us.

Until our things from the States arrive, Melba and I will still be living out of our suitcases; probably five or six weeks. And groceries... last night we had to go to the Navy Exchange to buy some of the basics. The base commissary has great shopping, but it's difficult carting all those plastic bags filled with cereal, cleansers, and other household knit knacks back to our apartment. I have a Japanese drivers license but no car. We had to call for an on-base taxi, and they aren't cheap; $6.30 for the short quarter-mile hope to our tower apartment.

When evening came, we sat down for some prolonged "quiet time" because now that we have left the Navy Lodge we find ourselves with no television. Ours is en route from the States, but in the meantime, what are we to do?

Melba suggested we make a quick trip to the Navy Exchange to see what they offered in the way of small television. We were hoping to buy a cheap little, old-fashioned tube-style TV. No here, baby! Flat screen LCDs and plasmas was all they offered. The cheapest was nearly $600. We walked away empty handed, when back to our new home, and sat quietly with a book and a magazine and enjoyed some "quiet time."

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Walking to the commissary this morning we ran into Valerie, one of Melba's co-workers at school. She's the gal who met us at the airport eleven days ago and drove us to Yokosuka. "Where were you last night when we needed a car?" I jokingly asked her. "We could have used a friend with a car instead of paying for a taxi." We got to talking and I told her about not having a TV in the apartment.

"Come on with me. You can borrow one of my girls'," she offers. "They're away at school. You can use it until yours arrives."

God provides, baby! God provides.

A Place to Call Our Own

After ten days in Room 311 Melba and I moved out of the Navy Lodge this morning to a housing facility called Goban Tower. It was a good thing too because the A/C gave out last night during a storm. Goban Tower is one of many 9-story high rises on the Yokosuka base and it's only a five minute walk from Melba's school.

Last evening we took off just before sunset to the Navy Exchange to buy some bedsheets and stuff. Base housing is going to loan us a little furniture until ours arrives in October. We didn't know it but a bad storm was blowing in from the north while we were indoors shopping. We should have been watching the Japanese Weather Channel instead of The Simpsons before we stepped out of the Navy Lodge. Loaded down with bags, it had already grown dark on us on the walk back to the Lodge and it was blowing so hard we looked like a pair of Weather Channel talking-heads reporting from the scene of an approaching hurricane. I thought it was funny, but Melba was genuinely frightened.

From our vantage point on the third floor we had an excellent view of Tokyo Bay and the ship traffic crisscrossing on it. The winds had churned up the bay waters so much that there were white caps as far as you could see and the waves produced crashed over the seawall only 50 yards from us. That's when trouble struck. The lights flashed once and then the A/C quit in much of the building. This morning when we were checking out there were a lot of unhappy campers in the lobby.

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I waited in our empty 8th-floor apartment at Goban Tower from 7:30 in the morning until 1 in the afternoon before the truck with our loaner furniture arrived. It's not much to look at but at least we have something to sleep on and a place to sit our butts and eat. I'll send pictures when it's possible for me to do so. We don't have a TV, though. The navy won't loan out one of those, so we may have to go buy one soon. You know... to watch the Japanese Weather Channel.

Congratulations to Me

I find myself walking a great deal these days. Melba and I could easily have counted off 25 miles since we first set foot here. We have had to walk to so many office around base to take care of the stack of paperwork the navy requires. I could master the pick-up and stop schedule of the free bus on the base here, but I need the exercise. I've got 180 pounds stacked on this little Mexican frame. This morning I was scheduled to take my driving test at 10:15. I walked from the Naval Lodge through the maze of housing, high rises, offices, parking lots, and retail outlets that make up the Yokosuka base to get to the testing site. The walk is a little over a mile and it doesn't do me any harm. At a brisk pace I got there in 25 minutes. Arriving at the test center I learned that only one other person besides myself would be driving at that time.

Mind you, no practice driving of any sort is offered before this driving test. The gear shift is on the left side of the steering column, the blinkers are on the right, and I have to remind myself to look at the kilometers per hour and not the mph. And think LEFT SIDE OF ROAD.

We and the instructor step out into the parking lot and he points to me and say, "You drive first, please." I immediately make my first mistake when I start walking over to the car's left side door before I chuckle to myself and make the correction. A quick whispered prayer under my breath and I step into the car. Strapping myself in behind the steering wheel, right side I remind you, I look to my left at the instructor, a young, slight man with wire-rimmed glasses, and ask if I should start the car now. Yes, he says. The driving will be done entirely on-base.

Pulling out of the parking lot into the light traffic I perform the customary stop, go, left, right, and yield operations. I don't think I drove but five minutes when the Japanese instructor says to me, "Okay, you stop car. You do fine, okay," and that was it. Just like that, I passed.

If you ask me I think the Japanese authorities just licensed another dangerous American motorist.

Good News/Bad News

I took a 7-minute walk this morning from the Naval Lodge that has been our home since August 12 over to the Incoming Personal Property Office. Because we now know where our on-base housing assignment is, that office has to be informed so that the navy knows where to deliver our personal goods that are en route to Japan from the States.

The knowledge that our things are en route is the good news. We have been living out of our suitcases at the Naval Lodge since we arrived. The bad news is that the estimated time of arrival for our things is on October 6. That's a long time. Until then, our apartment will be furnished with the bare minimums on loan from the navy.

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FYI - The official name of this place is Commander Fleet Activities, Yokosuka, Japan (CFAY). Their website (http://www.cfay.navy.mil/) states, "Our mission is to maintain and operate base facilities for the logistic, recreational, administrative support and service of the U.S. Naval Forces Japan, U.S. SEVENTH Fleet and other operating forces forward-deployed in the Western Pacific." The base comprises 568 acres and is located 43 miles south of Tokyo at the entrance of Tokyo Bay and approximately 18 miles south of Yokohama.

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Melba says that out of an elementary faculty of 100, thirty are new to The Sullivans Elementary School this year. We have met so many friendly and helpful people. The vets are very sympathetic to all the newcomers and can't do enough to help us settle in.

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I am an old-timer here. Everyone is so young, and I see so many families with little kids. It is as if every time a ship comes in into port the married sailors put another bun in the oven. Many of these sailors have taken these beautiful Asian exotics for brides. There's a lot of mixed blood around here producing very beautiful children.

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I have a lot of time on my hands today so I passed a couple of hours outside on the back staircase of the Naval Lodge with a book. Occasionally, I would take my eyes off the page to watch the ship traffic on Tokyo Bay. It helps a little. August in Yokosuka, Japan is hot and humid. The weather reminds me of Corpus Christi. When it gets too uncomfortable outside I find refuge in the lodge's Internet lounge.

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A Very Busy Place

This morning we had to attend the first day of orientation for all the new comers. We had missed last week's because we didn't arrive on base until late in the afternoon. Attending last Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and this Tuesday's sessions with all the new personnel (military and civilian) makes me feel like the week of inservice at the start of a new school year. They pass out material, everything I see and hear is new to my ears, we listen to speaker after speaker, and we all look forward to the breaks. "What is this?" I ask myself. I came here to relax.

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At noon we met with our housing advisor, a Miss Inove. She's a barry, barry, nice raidy, buh er ingrash no so goo. We explained that we were willing to downgrade to a two-bedroom if it meant we would be able to live on-base. She said fine, and so we move into one of the many 9-story towers on base. We are fortunate in that 70% of the personnel assigned to Yokosuka have to live off-base because of the housing shortage. I say "Thank You, GOD." Neither of us wanted to hassle with a commute to get to the base. We'll be on the 8th floor. Once my laptop arrives I'll be able to post pictures.

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Late this afternoon we ventured off base for the first time. We were encouraged to get a pair of no-frill cell phones, and so we did. Valerie, one of the teachers from school who was assigned to be our seeing eye dog when we first arrived has been holding our hands since we touched down at the airport in Tokyo. She took us to a little place just off-base to get the phones. Looking around it reminded me of Nuevo Laredo; hardly a difference except that it was populated by Japanese rather than Mexicans.

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There's a Human Resources Department on base that help find on-base employment for the civilians. I'll visit with them next week after we settle into our new place. We've been very busy here since we first set foot on Yokosuka.

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There's a couple of photos of us on Ronda's blog. http://saenz2007.blogspot.com/

Begin Week #2

I finally got my ID this morning. Melba's group from The Sullivans School pulled away from the Naval Lodge at 7:15 a.m. Because it was so cool I opted to take the twenty minute walk to the passport and I.D. center instead of riding the bus. I was customer #1 when the window opened, but because of computer problems it was an hour-and-a-half before they could generate my card. No problem though. I didn't have to be anywhere this morning. I am here to relax.

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We have an appointment with the naval housing office at 1:30 p.m. Based on my wife pay grade, we qualify for a three-bedroom apartment in one of the 9-story towers off-base. Everyone we have met here who is also in the process of getting housing is so gung-ho about living on either one of two off-base naval housing facilities. The closest is a place called Ikego and one in Yokohama called Negishi. The housing office says that driving to Ikego is an easy task and will take approximately 25 to 30 minutes without heavy traffic. That is definitely not for us. On the other hand, the naval housing at Negishi is three times further from the base at Yokosuko.

It did not take a lot of discussion between the wife and I that we would be more comfortable finding housing on base, even if it meant having to downgrade to a two-bedroom. The on-base housing allows for an easy walk to school for the wife. The two off-base facilities would require shuttle buses, trains, or a personal vehicle for her to get to work on a daily basis. We asked for a downgrade, choosing convenience over culture.

This Sunday was Different

In my old life I used to go out to the Ranch on a Sunday afternoon. I would mow the property around Mom's place, change the oil to her car, make certain the cows had water in the trough, and perform other little fix up jobs around the place. Mainly though, I spent some quality time and conversation with Mom. I'd cap the afternoon off with a cold beer and enjoy the quiet of the place.

This Sunday was different. After four very warm days on Uncle Sam's Yokosuka naval facility here in Japan I found myself with no script for this very different Sunday. On this day a typhoon just off the coast of Japan brought us very overcast skies, drizzle and rain, and very cool temperatures. Except for a bus ride to the pizza place and the walk back, we were most confined to our temporary home, the Naval Lodge on base. There was no cold beer on this Sunday afternoon accompanied by the soft whisper of the wind through the old mesquites. The grating squawks of gulls was what could be heard out our window instead of the melody of South Texas songbirds. This Sunday was different.

Information Overload

I did not arrive in Japan this week with the intention of taking a crash Japanese culture course, learn how to shovel rice into my mouth with chopsticks, or qualify for a Japanese driver's license, but that is how the week turned out. Yesterday, I passed my Japanese driver's written test. I am scheduled to take the driving portion of the test on Thursday morning. I get to do this without ever having had a chance to practice driving on the left side of the road, as they do here. The powers-that-be on the base do not allow for it. It will not be necessary they say. I will just be placed in an unfamiliar vehicle with a bunch of other newbies and drive.

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They have chicharas here in Japan. Maybe not as loud as the ones back home in South Texas, but loud enough to remind me of summer afternoons back home. The ones here produce their ear-piercing chirring with a slight Japanese accent.

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I still don't have a base ID. That won't happen until Monday, oh, but dammit, I'm all set for the driving test.

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The public computers on the base here in Yokosuka are locked down pretty good. They do not permit me to download my photos onto them so that I can post them online.

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Ronda and her kids drove over from Yakota Air Base this morning. It was a great visit. The time they spent with us help take some of the edge off this traumatic week. Ronda made certain to remind me of the time that she, Rene, and the kids first came over to Japan and said that we, Melba and I, would now have an excuse to fly across the Pacific and visit with them. She remembered me saying. "No, I don't think so. Japan is not on my list of places to visit in my lifetime." God has a sense of humor. Look where I am now.

Driving?

As Rod Serling would say, "Imagine this." I have yet to be issued my ID card, but today many of the newcomers like myself are going to take a mandatory written driver's test. Then, those who pass will take a mandatory driving test later. What did I have to study with to learn how the Japanese drive? They handed out copies of a driver's handbook that has been run about 100 times through a Xerox machine and in print so small I have to borrow my wife's glasses to be able to read. We have had one day to study. I don't get these people. No ID card, but they want you to drive. Hell, these people here drive on the left side of the road and the steering wheel is on the right side. God help us.

First Order of Business

On our first full day here you would think that the powers-that-be would have the new arrivals on base procure their military IDs and and begin arranging for housing. We're living out of two suitcases right now in the Navy Lodge. I would have thought these two concerns would have been the first order of business. This was not the case. We spent our first day sitting in the base movie theater with a couple of hundred other new arrivals (military and civilian) listening to seven hours of an Introduction to Japanese Culture presentation. Yes, it was very informative, but I would think there were more pressing concerns to address, as I just mentioned. Many of those in attendance thought so too. We were fortunate that we did meet some extremely helpful people today. We still can't believe we are here.
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Another thing I learned is that all the public computers in the Navy Lodge and at the base Public Library are "locked down" pretty good. I will not be able to upload any pictures until my laptop arrives from the States.

This Was The Day

It's been about four weeks since we first received word that we were going to Japan. Today, I had to say good-bye to some of the people who mean the most to me in this world.

One-Way Fare

The folks at the D.O.D. emailed our flight itinerary today. We leave for Yokosuka on American Airlines from San Antonio on August 11th (7:40 a.m.) We change planes in DFW and thirteen hours later we land at Tokyo-Narita airport. Good-bye America. I feel like I miss you already.