The Lockup... home of the the Bloody Nipple

There is a novelty restaurant in Hiroshima, called the Lockup. It seems in nearly every major (and not so major) city in the States, there is some kind of odd restaurant that you go to so you can get the t-shirt. Maybe not literally, but you go just to say that you went. Like McGuire's Pub, with the dollar bills hung... everywhere. Lambert's Cafe, home of the "throwed" rolls. The Old Spaghetti Factory. Any steakhouse where they cut off neckties and hang them up on the walls like trophies. The Lockup is reminiscent of those restaurants. In a prison-meets-chemistry-experiment-meets-Freddy-Kreuger-meets-Freddie-Mercury sort of way.

I had been hearing about this place through both American and Japanese friends, and then the Iwakuni Foodie blogged about it on her site. A group of seasoned military spouses decided to take a girls' night and check it out... and I was invited. Yay!

I took this photo... otherwise I'd be in it, as the chunky red cat. ;)

I highly recommend making reservations... the place was PACKED and we were fairly promptly escorted out after our 2-hour dining time was over. You can go to ITT (travel office in Crossroads Mall) and have them make the reservation for you if you are deficient in the Japanese language. Iwakuni Foodie has the hours and phone number on her blog. Also, the directions on the Foodie site are a little vague... even if you know where Molly Malone's restaurant is. I did not. So here is a map to Molly Malone's. The simplest way to tell you with landmarks is this: Go to Hondori Street, and find the Starbucks on the corner by H&M. Walk away from Hondori Street (and H&M) alongside Starbucks until you can turn left and walk behind the building that is across from Starbucks. Keep walking until you see a major road. You will see Molly Malones across the street on the third or fourth floor. Look carefully, the writing is small. When you are looking at Molly Malones, turn right and walk about a block until you find the big Don Quijote's import/export store.

(By the way, you would think a store called Don Quijote's would have tequila. Sadly, no... everything alcoholic but, it seemed, including pink Zima. Yes, apparently, they still make Zima). Look at the building across the street (the Molly Malone's side of the street) and there you will find The Lockup, on the 4th floor. Just look for the picture of the black and red skull and the 4F. Take the elevator to the fourth floor and be ready...

For a Japanese chick in a cop costume....

... to tell you that you are seven minutes early for your reservation. OK, no problem. We will wait on padded stools in a darkened corner. At least there weren't any padded walls. Yet.

Just kidding. There were no padded walls, but that would have been a nice touch. I'll recommend that next time. I need to look up the Japanese translation for "padded walls."

While we waited, there was a lot of screaming to be heard from the rooms beyond. Some of us were excited to see what all the fuss was about... some of us were cowering behind the rest of us. Some of us were too buzzed from preflighting to really care. I'll let you decide what group I was in. And you remember what happens when you assume, right? ;)

Finally we were greeted by another "cop" and we had to pick which one of us was "bad." The lady who was late to our girls' night was selected and some thing "bad" happened to her... I will not spoil the surprise... but she survived, so how "bad" could it be?

We were led to our cell... literally, with plenty of dungeon-esque accoutrement to remind us of how much trouble we were really in. Plenty of chains and screams and dim lighting. I was expecting to hear some whips or something, but was disappointed.

We were in cell block 25, complete with a sliding barred door.

There were picture menus, with an accompanying English translation of the descriptions. I have no idea what the WARNING!! stickers meant, and still don't. The group of us decided that meant that those were their popular or recommended menu items. The alcoholic beverages were very entertaining, and I picked my first two off of looks alone. Tequila is a rare commodity in Japan, unless you are specifically at a Mexican or Jamaican (yeah, I know Jamaica is not in Mexico, but the Japanese apparently don't) so I figured since my favorite beverage was not available, I would take a chance on mixing alcohols. Always a good choice.

I picked the drink below because the ice cube or whatever was fuzzed out. From my trip to the love hotel, I knew that fuzzed out things were the most interesting, so I wanted to know what was fuzzed out. The marketing genius behind the photo of this beverage did his/her job. I ordered the drink.

I chose the second drink I ordered because it was on the poster outside, and who wouldn't want "a shot?" I wanted a shot of a shot, so I picked that. The waitress did not blink when I ordered two drinks. Probably because I was "Big OK," and looked like I could handle it, but hopefully because most people can't resist the novelty of all of these things and often ordered more than one.

And so the drinks arrived, looking much like they were pictured.

The fuzzed out thing: a bloody lemon-ice skull.

My "fuzzed-out thing" theory relating to the love hotel was flawed, but I still enjoyed the skull.

Thanks, Britt, for this very flattering photo.

And I enjoyed the shot. Which was essentially what Yahoo! tells me is a "Good Sex with a Blue Condom." Seriously. Google it. I asked the waiter if I could keep the syringe. He said no. So, beware... you share syringes with others (presumably after they are cleaned, but you know what happens when you presume).

We gathered up our collection of drinks, which also included a green potion, a drink with an eye ball floating in it, a beaker of yellow fluid that was called "Go to Sleep," and a drink with floating gummy worms. We noted that these smart restaurateurs served the beverages with breadsticks and honey butter. Guess they don't want anyone getting too drunk too fast and passing out in prison.

After ordering drinks, food became the next priority. The menu was very creative and below are some snippets in English.

I highly recommend everyone try a capsule for 100 yen. It's in its own hemisphere when it comes to the taste.

Even vegetables are interesting... these arrived in a foggy haze of dry ice. And, by the way, there are plenty of selections for vegetarians. Our resident vegetarian did not leave the restaurant hungry. There are also plenty of fun non-alcoholic beverages available for the pregger people or under-20 crowd.

Charcoal chicken, available plain, or with various sauces, including the mayo pictured below. This did not taste burnt and was quite delicious. But it looked quite disgusting, which was probably the point.

The cross-shaped pizza was fun (remember: less than 1 percent of the population of Japan is Christian, so there is little meaning here, other than these shapes are often found on tombstones, so very appropriate for The Lockup's eclectically deadly theme, apparently, because prison and death go hand-in-hand), but was not very tasty in my opinion. I would stick to the charcoal chicken, fried spaghetti noodles and shrimp with mayo salad.

Here are all of us naughty girls in our cell block:

Note the bars on the windows... and, then, all of sudden, the lights when out and strobe light started flashing with an eerie voice chattering away in Japanese.

I won't tell you what happened next, but my iPhone was accidentally in "selfie" mode, so, instead of capturing what happened next, I captured my face. Perfection. I couldn't have planned that better if I tried. And no fun surprises ruined. Let your anticipation mount.

Then came the last call... I ordered another drink that came in a urine specimen (Kenta) jar and dessert. The ladies thought it would be fun to stack all of our empty beverage containers in front of me for a photo op. I obliged. And then I anticipated my dessert.

I call it The Bloody Nipple. But the restaurant's English menu called it The Youthful Bloody Eyeball. Mmm... yes. The restaurant's name is much better... Not.

*** I recommend leaving small children or kids who are easily startled or frightened at home. Also, if you are affected negatively by strobe lights, you may want to reconsider visiting.***

Packing for your move to Iwakuni

PCS (for those of you non-military types who are reading this, this is a Permanent Change of Station… basically, our 2, 3 or 4 years are up at our current base and it’s time to move again) season is gearing up and more people are moving to Iwakuni this summer than ever in recent history, due to the base expansion. I have been getting a lot of questions about what to pack in what shipment, carry-on, etc., which I understand. That was one of my top priorities once the shock of “Oh, $#!+, I’m moving to Japan!” wore off.

Unfortunately, we happened to be stationed in Pensacola when we got orders, aboard a Naval base, and the information folder they gave to us about MCAS Iwakuni was about three years out of date. Which was pretty standard for any information about the Marine Corps, if there was even any information specifically for Marines available. After all, sailors were the priority on a Navy base. So, I headed online to find out what I could about moving to Iwakuni… which was pretty darn close to nothing. The MCAS Iwakuni base website didn’t even have my husband’s squadron listed on it… because it happens to be the smallest one on the base (Thanks to someone with a loud mouth, it is now listed. Think of me when you see MACS4 on the list of squadrons). The lack of information was appalling, which is part of the reason I blog about my life here: I hope to help out other families moving here.

Fortunately, we happened to be stationed in Pensacola with another, more experienced Marine Corps family who was moving to Okinawa about the same time we were moving to Iwakuni, and had already served a tour in Iwakuni more than a decade earlier. Seasoned spouse Cheri Schultz was a fabulous resource for me during this crazy time and she shared her personal “PCS with Success” information with me. With her permission, I share the information about what to pack, for when and where, with you below.

These suggestions are based off of Cheri’s family’s needs (or mine). We each have four members in our family, so adjust the quantities as necessary. The list items in red are where I deviated from Cheri’s list.

Luggage

I do not pack light. I never have. And this trip was definitely no exception. Each member of our family had the max of what we were allowed to travel with: two large suitcases, a backpack and a carry-on suitcase. That’s eight full-sized suitcases, four small suitcases and four backpacks. If you follow the Jessica Guthrie-be-prepared-for-anything-including-a-zombie-invasion method of moving, make sure every suitcase has wheels. My purse was in my carry-on suitcase, but my wallet was in my backpack. Here is what I packed (with some help from some of Cheri’s suggestions):

Carry-on

Boys’ Carry-on: My sons were 10 and 6 when we arrived in Iwakuni, old enough to wear a backpack and pull a small carry-on suitcase, so they did. Toys, all of their handheld electronics, games and power cords, and snacks were in their backpacks, which also had an index card with all of the contact information I could think of on it, in case we somehow got separated. In their carry-on suitcases were more toys, two complete changes of clothes (Cheri recommends five), and their toiletry bags (toothpaste, toothbrush, contact solution, contact case, extra contacts, hair gel, hair brush, etc.). I also included a sweatshirt, even though it was July, and their night-time woobies (i.e., security blankets, favorite stuffed animal, etc. … don’t tell them I told you!).

My Carry-on: In my suitcase: My purse, external hard drives, iPad, power cords, camera, lenses, important documents (see list below), two complete changes of clothing and the bare necessities of toiletry items, in a plastic Ziploc baggie as required by the airline. I also had a small bottle of mild dish soap... you never know what you might need to clean in a hotel sink. Make sure it is in the plastic Ziploc baggie required by the airlines.

My backpack: My wallet with regular documentation, like drivers license and military ID… you will NEED your military ID for nearly EVERYTHING – including grocery shopping on base - while in Iwakuni, so make sure it is up to date before you leave the States! I also had $100 cash and 10,000 yen per person in my family (so $400 and 40,000 yen), all passports (both the free government one and tourist), a copy of Rodney’s orders, air travel itinerary, laptop with power cord (I did not have an iPad yet), first aid kit, cell phone chargers (I couldn’t call, but when I found WiFi at the airports I could Skype, Facebook message or iMessage), battery-powered device charger, and prescriptions/medications for the family, including Tylenol, Tums and motion sickness meds.

Rodney’s Carry-on: I have no idea. I let him worry about himself but I suggested that he have two sets of clothes and a toothbrush. I think he listened, but I am not sure.

Checked Baggage

Boys’ Checked Baggage: More toys (kids get bored easily and these may be the only toys you have for weeks or months) and all of their summer clothes and items, such as swim trunks. I packed some fall items, as well, since I was not sure when our advance and main shipments would actually arrive. Their suitcases also housed some of my stuff I needed for my job as an online college instructor (class started about three weeks after I was scheduled to arrive in Iwakuni), like books and files.

My Checked Baggage: Most of my summer clothes and matching shoes/sandals, going mostly for comfort, rather than style, although I packed a dress or two “just in case.” I did have some jeans and long-sleeved shirts, as well. All of my make-up and hair stuff, any liquid toiletries and candles the movers wouldn’t move and I wasn’t willing to give up, two power strips, desk items (pens, pencils, notepads, stapler, scissors, tape, etc.), flashlight, batteries of different sizes, and anything else I felt I needed and couldn’t live without for a month or more.

Rodney’s Checked Baggage: I have no idea. I had enough to worry about and I have made it a point NOT to learn all the parts to a uniform so I am consistently less than helpful and can concentrate on my much-longer to-do lists of life.

Advance Shipment (up to 500 pounds)

This supposedly gets picked up at your old house before your main shipment and arrives at your new house before your main shipment. But with the lovely shipping shenanigans, especially at peak PSC season (summer and around Dec./Jan) I have heard many tales of how the advance shipment arrives with or after your main shipment. And, to throw a wrench in to "what should happen," our advance and main shipments were packed a day apart. Our advance shipment did arrive about two weeks ahead of our main shipment, so it was nice to have these items. You are given loaner furniture by housing (called a lending locker, which has other household items, as well) if you get a home prior to your main shipment arriving. It is free to use and arrives in various conditions, depending on who you ask and which family had the good/bad experience.

Here is what to pack in your Advance Shipment:

4 sets of dishes (plates and bowls)

4 sets of silverware

2 sets of sheets for each bed (Iwakuni temporary furniture are twin and queen-sized beds)

pillows

blankets

A set of bath towels, had towels a washcloths for each person in your family

Clothing (including all of the kids’ clothes that we did not pack to fly with us)

Some Tupperware

Bicycles/air pump

Hangers

Alarm clock

Clock for living area

Extension cord(s)

Power strips

A few tools

A phone

Colander

Knives

Measuring cups and spoons

Can opener

Cutting board

Mixing bowl

Baking stones

Pan

Pots

Pitcher

Timer (iPads/iPhones also work)

Crock pot

Dish towels

Hot pads

Coffee cups

Plastic drinking cups

Trash can (not needed in Iwakuni)

TV

DVD player

Flashlight

Things I wished I had packed once I got to Iwakuni:

Microwave (there aren’t any built-in microwaves in the midrises I have seen)

Toaster

Lamps (some midrises have NO overhead living room light… it gets very dark.)

I am not sure what more would be needed if you happen to be assigned a townhouse. Perhaps someone could comment below if there are other things to bring.

As mentioned, here is Cheri's list of important documents:

Important Documents:

birth certs

marriage cert

divorce decree (if applicable)

social security cards

insurance docs

mortgage and rental docs

copies of orders

immunization records

dental records

Any medical records you can get your hands on (bases losing records has been a continuous problem for our family)

last LES statement

powers of attorney

wills

bank books with checks

home inventory of household goods (video or photos)

professional licenses or certifications

address book

calendars

packer’s list

new duty station information folder

last month’s bills

PCS with Success folder

resume (the dependent spouse's)

school records, including any IEPs

pet health records

tax returns

computer passwords

Things I bought once I was in Iwakuni:

Pillows (We needed new ones and then we had more space in our advanced shipment

Phone (ours was apparently the wrong frequency... ?)

Queen mattress cover

Twin mattress covers (because the temporary mattresses we got were DISGUSTING, and even though they had a plastic cover to put on them, I wanted one more layer of protection. Ugh.)

Shower organizer

Toilet bowl brushes (who wants those to be packed?! Yuck!)

Light bulbs (for the lamps that came in our main shipment, but that I had wished were packed in my advanced shipment.)
Batteries

Sure, you could buy all this stuff, but the $2,000 or however many dollars of "inconvenience pay" you get wouldn't cover half of it, so I encourage you to pack as much as you can. Also, selections at the Exchange here are VERY limited, and the next closest Exchange is about 6 hours away (Sasebo) and even smaller, so shop while you are still in the States.

I hope this helps... and a big thanks to Cheri for allowing me to share. If you recently moved to Iwakuni and had something else to add to this list, please feel free to share in a comment below!


Want more? Posts are listed chronologically in the right-hand margin. If you are viewing this from a computer, there is a search box in the top left corner... type in a couple of search words you are interested in... like commissary. Or town hall. Or love hotel. ;)

Thoughts from an awkward mourner...

Let me preface this by saying that I am a very… awkward mourner. For someone who takes to the spoken and written word pretty easily, I can never find the right thing to say at the time I want to say it. And I never know what to say to those closest to the deceased. “I’m sorry,” of course, but beyond that… I’m more of a do-er than a speaker or pray-er. Please, give me something to DO that will help make your life easier in this difficult time. What activity can I accomplish so that you don’t have to do it? How can I show you how sorry I am and how much I want to help?

This works when you are relationship-wise or geographically close to someone. You can do the dishes, cook a meal or just sit silently with the person so they don’t feel quite so alone. But if you aren’t both of those things, there isn’t much an awkward mourner like me can do.

Now, please do not think that the bulk of this post is about me. It certainly is not. I just wanted to explain myself so that readers might cut me a break… if anything in this post sounds less than eloquent or odd, it’s because I am an awkward mourner, and not because of anything else. I have the utmost respect for the family who lost its loved one and would never want to intrude upon their privacy. However, nothing here, other than my personal thoughts, is private information. Everything can be found online, and I will provide the links.

I think this blog post is also important because I have come to realize that people who have never lived in small communities just don’t “get” it. My spouse was raised in a small, rural community in Illinois, but I have had to learn about it during our marriage, with encounters with his small community, and then here in Iwakuni. If you are moving to Iwakuni from another duty station, one that was probably larger than this one, this is something you will need to learn. Do not air your dirty laundry on the Iwakuni Classifieds, do not wear yoga pants to the Exchange unless you want to start an uncivil war, and learn the balance between privacy and expressing genuine concern in an appropriate way. I struggle with that last point. Couple that with my awkward mourner tendencies and this blog is what you get. This is my attempt to DO something as I mourn, because while I live in the same 5,000-member community, I, admittedly, am not close to the family who lost its loved one. But, for some reason that is foreign to me, I still felt loss. I can only assume it comes from the proximity of living in a small community.

Last week the MCAS Iwakuni community was struck with terrible news: Capt. Reid Nannen, a fighter pilot stationed in Iwakuni, and 10-year Marine Corps veteran, crashed during a training exercise in Nevada and did not survive. His wife, Sarah, and four children, were at home in Iwakuni awaiting the completion of his training, one of the children a baby girl born just 6 weeks ago and had yet to meet her father in person.

While I met Reid only once in passing, I know Sarah better, professionally. She is a talented photographer with a passion for empowering women during pregnancy, natural childbirth and motherhood. She is a doula, as well as a maternity and newborn portrait photographer. We were part of the same small photographer community aboard MCAS Iwakuni and my encounters with her were always positive. She was quick to encourage me to "dust off" my photography degree and put it to work as a photographer here. She is a strong, driven woman who knew what her passions were and wasn’t afraid to reach for and achieve her goals – including going to extremes to have the childbirth experience she wanted for her fourth child. Click on the link and you'll see exactly what I am talking about.

I could relate to her… I, too, am driven about what I am passionate about. Of course, we are not passionate about all of the same things… I like epidurals and can barely maintain my sanity with two children. But we both appreciated the stories that great photos tell, as fellow photographers. Whenever I met up with her she was positive, funny and eager to share information. She seemed to know what would make her happy and went for that, yet wasn’t afraid to say “no” so she could focus on the things she really wanted to do. She took beautiful portraits of many infants on base, and assisted women to bring their babies in to the world in a country and medical system that was completely foreign to them. She organized get-togethers for expectant and new moms to help them in their new roles. Sarah was ingrained in the Iwakuni community and made a difference everywhere she went.

I know that a woman like this, especially with four children, needs to also have a strong and supportive husband whose focus was not only on being a Marine, but also made his family a top priority. A man who did everything he could to master the work/home balance despite the never-9-to-5 needs of the Marine Corps. I know, because I am fortunate enough to have a husband like that. So, while I did not know Reid, I could see who he was through Sarah, her happiness, and her approach to life. And I liked him very much.

It broke my heart to watch the news of Reid's death play out over the past week. I never did go to see Sarah. I heard she had plenty of help and, like I said, I did not know her well. The do-er in me wanted to do something for her, but I think the best thing I could have done was stay out of the way. Too much help from virtual strangers is probably the last thing someone needs when her husband has died.

So, this blog post is me do-ing. On her Facebook page, Sarah asked that people tell her birth story to help her family celebrate Reid’s life. So… I’m sharing. And I hope you will, too. Feel free to share the link to this blog post, or to any of the pages I've embedded links to in this post. Do what you can to honor Reid and his family.

If you would like to help the Nannen children, a memorial fund has been set up for them in Reid's name. You can access it here.

Sarah, if you happen to read this, I wish nothing but the best for you and your young family. I admire your strength and courage and am deeply sorry for your loss. If there is ever anything I can do for you, please do not hesitate to ask. It’s the least I can do to repay you for the impact you have made on me, and the Iwakuni community.

Setsubun: Getting hit in the nose with tradition

There is nothing quite like a centuries-old tradition of getting smacked in the nose by a rock-hard rice cake. Really, there isn't, I assure you. But it was all in the name of warding off evil for the year. And I don't know about you, but I think the less evil the better, even if I have to endure some pain.

In all fairness, it was my own fault I took a hard rice cake, called a mochi, to the nose like an ill-prepared hockey player. When I had been invited to this event on the island of Miyajima by my friend Chie, she had said that beans and rice are thrown to the crowd to ward off evil in the coming spring. OK, sounds good. I am picturing beans and grains of rice raining down on the crowd, like confetti, or a really big send-off for a newly wed couple. I did not plan on small hockey pucks being launched at my face. I should have asked more questions.

But I didn't. So on a very foggy Feb. 3 Superbowl Monday morning (I know this sounds odd to some of you, but because of the time difference, the entire base gets the Monday after Superbowl Sunday off because the Superbowl is live at about 8 a.m. and it just wouldn't be fair to the Marines if they missed the big game. Boo-hoo. The kids still have to go to school, though) Chie, another friend of mine, Brenda, and I headed off to Miyajima island (about a half hour away from Iwakuni) to enjoy the Japanese tradition of setsubun. It was going to be at the Dai-Shoin Temple, which is at the top of a hill, at the top of a couple hundred stairs. Fortunately for us, there are some things to do as you climb.

On either side of those brightly colored banners are bells to ring. You also drop some yen in to a little wooden box as you ring the bell and bow three times. I am not sure what the whole significance is, but I try to be respectful and follow the mantra "When in Rome, do as the Romans do," or however the phrase goes.

The steps are lined with Dai-hannyakyo Sutra. According to info Brenda found, these are 600 volumes of scripture introduced from India by a Chinese Monk named Sanzo. It is believed that touching these sutras will bring you enormous fortune. I touched them. I touched them all!

There was a large gong to ring on the way up, as well. I rang it. And dropped some more yen in a wooden box.

There was plenty of small stone statues... each with his own headgear. Again, according to some info Brenda found, these are 500 Rakan statues, and each statue has a different face and represent the disciples of Shaka Nyorai. Chie said that elderly women crochet and knit hats for them to wear during the winter. Other statues had hats and scarves.

Once we got to the top of the steps, about five minutes before the festivities were set to start, this is what we saw:

It looked pretty reasonable until we got past that big yellow sign. And then we saw this:

 And this:

 And this:

Yep... wall-to-wall Japanese people, with a handful of foreigners scattered about. I was one of said foreigners. We also caught up with our friend, Jessica and her husband. Brenda and I took refuge toward the back of the crowd, near a Japanese photographer's rickety ladder. It seemed to be as safe as place as any to avoid bumping in to anyone. And since I am "Big OK," it is not easy to tuck yourself away safely. The good news about being "Big OK" is that I am six inches taller than the average Japanese elderly person and could see everything very well. And those tiny, elderly Japanese people had no problems with bumping in to me. Sometimes with a friendly smile, sometimes not. Either way, they can pack quite a push when they are determined to get somewhere or something, as I was soon to find out.

I'm going to fast-forward through the next 15 minutes or so. This gentleman came out and introduced the festivities and entertained us for awhile by playing a flute-like instrument... all in Japanese. Well, the words were in Japanese. The music was in ... notes, I guess. A woman sang for us. Not being musical by nature, I entertained myself by taking pictures of people taking pictures.

And taking a selfie for Facebook so my Mom could see why I didn't answer her Skype call. Sorry, Mom... busy mingling with the short people.

Then they trotted out about 30 dignitaries. All of them were born the year of the horse, which is what 2014 is. So, these people were 12, 24, 36, 48, 60, 72, 84, 96, 108, 120, 132 or 144 years of age. That's as far as my 12-times times tables goes in my head. Brenda and I did the "How old do you think that person is?" game as we waited.

There was some singing, and apparently the master of ceremonies was very funny because every so often the entire crowd would laugh... except for the handful of foreigners who looked around trying to see if any of the Japanese were looking at us. We might be the butt of the joke and not know. Well, at least that's what I was doing. No one was looking at me, so I figured I could stop being so self-centered and realize the event was not all about the lone blond girl in the sea of Japanese people.

And then it was time to throw some stuff around. You could tell because the dignitaries reached behind them for shallow boxes full of envelopes and flat, round things and small brown things. And the crowd started getting restless. After some kind of count, items were flung in to the air to the waiting hands and baseball gloves (yes, one guy actually had a baseball glove... I did not see him catch more than me, so I don't think it was necessarily a good idea) of the crowd below.

The lady on the left may have been the wife of one of the gentlemen on stage. She kept shouting and waving at him until he subtly waved back.

Of course, at one point I put my camera away for awhile so that it wouldn't get damaged. There were elderly people diving everywhere, tripping and falling over each other... I was really nervous about broken hips. I tried not to jostle these seemingly delicate people. But, after a couple of elbows to the back and stomach, and seeing how they bounced right back up after they got knocked down, I used my height for all it was worth. I did not push, I did not jostle, but I did reach beyond their reach in front of them to snag some bags of beans and a rice cake. I may be "Big OK" but it is paying off now!

Now, Kharma must have been watching because as I went to snag a bag of beans away from a particularly pushy 85-year-old, I didn't see the white mochi coming straight for my face. BAM! It hit me right in the nose, and dropped on to the front of my jacket. I saw some stars, and tried to wiggle my nose to see if it was still there. I felt for blood... none. Grabbing the mochi from my chest and shoving it in to my jacket pocket so I could chastise it later, I ducked behind some of the other people to avoid getting hit while I continued to access my injury (easier said than done when you're 6 inches taller than the majority of them).

At this point, since the Japanese are very fair and communal people, it was time for the front of the pack to go to the back so that the back people had a shot at the loot. How refreshing! Can you imagine Americans doing this at a rock concert or on Black Friday? Um... no.

I recovered from my injury free of blood (my nose was tender the next day, but it appears no permanent damage was done) and I ended up with four bags of beans, two mochi, including the offending white one, and a maple leaf cake. I'll explain the small white box in the photo below in a moment.

You are supposed to eat the same number of beans as your age. I ate 37 beans. Xan was disappointed that he only got to eat 7.

Some Japanese people had more than a dozen bags of beans. Who needs that many beans? Are you giving them to friends, family, neighbors? I mean, some of these people were elderly, but they certainly weren't THAT elderly.  Once the throwing was done, the dignitaries left the stage and people regained their sanity and got back with the loved ones they had shoved aside earlier.

I found Chie and she told me to open my bags to look for numbers. These numbers corresponded to the hundreds of prizes that awaited the winners under a tent. Wait, what? More prizes? I would have knocked down WAY more elderly Japanese people if I had known that. According to the posters I had somehow ignored earlier, I could win a toaster oven, a bicycle, a travel mug... not to mention a dozen other parting gifts. So, I looked through my four bags...

and found one with a number.

Of the five people in our group, three of us got numbers, all #3. We wouldn't know what prize #3 was until we got to the tent after standing in this line:

It only took about 15 minutes to get through the line. Meanwhile, Chie explained this massive yellow chart. Based on your age, it tells you whether or not you will have a good, bad or so-so year. Xan will have a great year, Will will have a so-so year, Rodney will have a good year and I am going to have a so-so year. I feel sorry for all the babies turning 1 this year. Their year is going to suck. Apparently, if you are over 90, you have no luck at all.

 Once we got to the front of the line, the tent looked like this:

When it was my turn, I handed over a number and I was handed a small white box.

A kitchen timer... that looks like an iPod knock off.... made in China... with instructions in Japanese. And, it's pink. Well worth the nose injury and 15 minutes of standing in line.

My pleather boots were a mess from people stepping all over them in the damp dirt. I say damp dirt because it wasn't quite mud.

Once we had all gotten our kitchen timers, it was time to head home, back down the hundreds of steps with the lucky scriptures.

Me, Brenda, Chie and Jessica

I took my loot home (along with some pastries from a Japanese bakery - yum!) and showed it to my family. I made them eat the appropriate number of beans. They taste a little like nuts.

If we had been a Japanese family, Rodney would have worn an "oni" - or demon's - mask and the kids would have thrown beans at him to chase the oni away.. And I, as the woman of the house, would have gotten to clean up the mess. So, we skipped that tradition. I figured the nose injury was enough of a sacrifice from me.