Okinawan Lesson Number One

Okinawan Lesson Number One

Late one 1982 August night, my plane touched down at Kadena Air Force Base, Okinawa.  My interest in the Far East went back several years., and I was almost giddy with excitement at this opportunity.   My new duty station was the Naval Security Group Activity (NSGA) Hanza, Okinawa; but we were living on Torii Station, an Army Base.  Those of us going to the Army base collected our baggage and loaded on the bus waiting for us.

As we drove along the streets, I watched in fascination as the signs lit up in Hiragana.  All of the streets looked like my idea of the Vegas strip.  Everywhere was bright red neon signs, many flashing, and all in a language I could not read.  My imagination was running on overtime, trying to guess at what adventures awaited in each building, lurking behind those signs.  I had watched movies and read books enough to know that each must contain danger and at least one beautiful woman!  After about an hour, we arrived at the base and were given a temporary room for the night. 

The next day I was introduced to my sponsor, Marty Beale.  It was his job to acclimate me to the Island and get me set up at work.  My first week was orientation.  They representatives went over the many things we needed to know of the local culture.  Hopefully this would keep us from embarrassing ourselves or America.

They went over many interesting facts, such as:

  Don't leave your chopsticks crossed on your plate when you finish eating.  This was considered a curse on whoever cleared your plate from the table.

  Don't leave your chopsticks sticking up from your rice.  This was only done at funerals, where you offer food to the spirits.

  If you see a mongoose, do not try to shoo it away with a broom or such.  A mongoose will run right up the handle and attack you.

  If you see someone lying on the sidewalk, with a paper over their face, leave them alone.  It was part of the culture, that if someone drank too much, they could lay on the ground and cover their face.  This saved them the shame of someone noticing that they over indulged.

You get the idea.  There were many such things.  Everything that appeared bizarre, just intrigued me more. 

My third day on Okinawa was a payday Friday, and I had the weekend off.  Marty stopped by and asked if I would like to hit the town with him.  I was very happy to, of course, but even if he hadn't asked, there was no way I would not have went out.  I was twenty-two, with a pocket full of money, and a land of excitement and opportunity lay just outside the gates!

Three of us flagged a taxi and went to Gate Two Street, outside of Kadena Air Base.  It was about 5:00.  It was shop after shop of types I had never seen.  There were grocery stores, with meat just hanging out in the air.  Furniture stores filled with futons and hand carved wooden pieces.  There was also a pet store.

The pet store had a minor bird, in a cage, just outside of the door.  I don't know if Marty wanted to get the bird to talk, or was just trying to impress us with his Japanese; but he went up to the bird.  "Kamban wa."  Nothing.  "Konichi wa."  Nothing.  He paused, then "Ohio Gozaimas."  The bird just stared at him.  He turned back to us and said "I guess the stupid bird can't talk."

At that moment the bird spoke in clear English and "Love You" is not what it said.

The look on Marty's face was priceless.  We howled, it was hilarious, but he just looked insulted.  Oh well, the day was young and adventured beckoned.  As the hours passed, we worked our way over to BC Street.  As the hours waned, the stores started to close, but every other building turned out to be a club that was just starting to open.

As we strolled along, we came upon two Marines fighting on the sidewalk, outside of a bar.  They were both big guys; the smaller one was well over six feet.

As we watched a Japanese Police (JP) car pulled up.  Two older police officers got out and walked up to the Marines.  One little old JP officer grabbed both service members by an arm.  "STOP!"  One Marine spun around and threw a punch at the cop.  Big mistake.  The officer barely moved, but the kid went flying.  He hit hard, but jumped up and went at the JP again.  Once more he sailed through the air.

The second JP walked up beside the first one.  The idiot picked himself up from the sidewalk and ran at both cops.  This time they pulled their JP sticks (metal batons).  As the Marine attacked. each officer hit a knee with his JP stick.   As the kid fell, one officer hit him in the back of the head.  I guess they were tired of playing.

They walked over to the unconscious service member.  One grabbed him by the shoulders, and the other by the legs.  Someone opened the back car door, and they placed him in the back seat.

One officer turned to the second Marine and said "You.  Go home."  The young man hesitated a second, then started yelling "Taxi!  Taxi!"

Marty turned to us and said "Lesson Number One.  Don't mess with the JPs!"  THAT was a lesson I never forgot.