Nighttime Zoorasia

For about two weeks, we had been counting down the days until Sydney could "see all the animals" at the zoo. Every day she would ask me when we were going to the zoo. So, last weekend despite the rain, we took our tour bus from base as planned to Zoorasia in Yokohama, which is about 45 minutes away.

First we ate a yakiniku buffet dinner. Sydney and Miranda most enjoyed the ice cream finale. (Sydney likes strawberry because it's pink. Miranda likes chocolate because it's mine.)

Then we set off to spend two hours in the rain at the zoo to see the animals at night. (Miranda was definitely the most comfortable and finally stopped fighting sleep about half-way through the zoo.) In August on Saturday nights, the zoo remains open in the evening since it is cooler weather and the animals are more likely to be active at this time.

Except maybe when it's raining, at which point they are usually taking cover (and likely thinking we are strange creatures). But luckily, they are often fed at this time, too, so they came out even in the rain to get food and we were able to see most of them. Elephants, monkeys, tigers, lions, penguins, polar bears, red panda bears, porcupines, etc.

One of the most unique animals at the zoo is the okapi, which is a short-necked relative of the giraffe, but it has stripes like a zebra on his rear end. (Our guide from base told us that this was an intentional breed between a horse and a zebra, but I believe this may not be true since I can't verify it anywhere. Anyone up for the challenge of confirming this, feel free! We haven't had any trivia contests lately, so consider this one and I'll send you a prize.)

Sydney's favorite nature lesson from the zoo is that "tigers eat meat," since she saw one being fed a big "steak." Yes, brutally honest as he is, Brian is fond of teaching Sydney the natural food chain, so she is also well aware that "bats eat bugs" and "sharks eat fish" from their nightly walks with Mitch along our neighborhood seawall. I'm not sure where she learned that life-size plastic elephants eat little girls, but it was only then that her joy morphed into this look of horror and she wouldn't go near those....but only momentarily until she saw the cute monkeys.

What's Worse Than Climbing Mt. Fuji?

Climbing most of Mt. Fuji. Yes, Brian and I are sad to report that we nearly made it to the summit of Mt. Fuji last weekend. The night before, Brian spiked a fever and we almost canceled the trip altogether. But in the final hour, we decided to proceed as planned since this was our last chance to climb the elusive (more like abusive) "Fuji-san."

After settling Sydney and Miranda into their beds at our friends' houses, we tucked ourselves into bed for a mere four hours before rising at 1am to make it to the bus that would bring us to the fifth station of Mt. Fuji. Unfortunately, we didn't get any more sleep that night, and by 5:45am we were on our way.

It was a beautiful clear morning. The temperature was cool, although the sun and activity kept us warm in shorts. We had high hopes. When we reached the 7th station, we received the first of many "stamps" on our climbing sticks. For 200 yen each, these iron-branded markings are a rite of passage for tourists climbing the various stations and huts along the ascending path of Fuji.

It was a breath-taking experience, in more ways than one. Yes, I was huffing and puffing always trailing behind Brian, but even when I stopped to take in the natural scenery, it took my breath away. The sky was so blue, and even when the clouds rolled in and enveloped us, it seemed like we were on our way to heaven. Well, via hell, maybe. After all, it was a long and agonizing trek along mostly steep upgrades of slippery volcanic gravel, with the occasional stint of rock climbing. Though neither of us complained, as we were committed to the challenge, and checked the map at each station or hut and trudged along. But apparently too slowly, as time was ticking away.

We finally passed the first of two wooden tori gates signaling the summit was near. We were halfway between the first and 2nd tori gate (the summit). But I was uncomfortable and needed time to use my breast pump before there would be no more stations on the descending path. So, after we estimated how far we were from the summit, weighed our remaining time and how we were both feeling, we decided we had to turn around to make it back to the tour bus on time. Now in addition to fatigue, we were feeling disheartened and defeated...and still had to spend several more hours descending the mountain.

By the end of our 11-hour Fuji experience, I realized it is only fitting that my flag was at half-mast ever since our last station stop. I wasn't the one to lower it, which makes it all the more ironic. I simply got tired of moving it back up after receiving each stamp. But it was indeed a sad symbol of our disappointment, especially since it drew more attention to the fact that our sticks didn't have the final stamp from the top.

You may notice Brian's flag is missing altogether; that's because he removed it. I'm not sure if it was because it was a literal or figurative "slap in the face" as we descended the mountain. But he has declared he will climb Fuji again...it's just a matter of when. I'm not sure if I find it necessary, despite my disappointment. Been there, done that...or should I say, enough of that.

Sydney's Swimming...

Well, she tells me she's a "good swimmer," but a more accurate statement is that she likes going to the pool, and she's taking swim lessons.

Sydney's in the preschool class and so is her friend and sometimes partner-in-crime, Aaralyn. They share a few laughs when it's not their turn in the spotlight...and even sought another spotlight when I tried to discreetly snap my camera for this photo.

Most of the time, Sydney follows directions well and is willing to try new things in the water-- even putting her face in and going under water when jumping. But I can't help but notice she has a little of what I dub "Pool A.D.D." (which I attribute to Brian, of course).

That is, sometimes she listens well to her teachers, Miss Starfish and Miss Mango, and other times not so well. On the second day of class, Sydney was more interested in making friends with the lifeguard (who happened to be a young, good-looking guy). He was sitting closeby on the edge of the pool with his buoy-in-hand and whistle-in-mouth just in case any preschoolers got overly self-confident in the water. Distracted, Sydney kept turning around to face him, tilting her head, smiling shyly, and after waving to him with her left hand, with the same hand would fling her blond locks forward and jump a little. Lately, this has become her trademark move for winning anyone--guy or girl--over. Where did she LEARN that? Yes, most times, the answer to that question is "from me." But I'm pretty sure I don't do that, and actually, never did that!

Needless to say, I think it's time for a haircut.

Other than that, she enjoys their "pool pep talk" in the foam boat before each class.

And she often is the last one out of the pool. Good thing we go every day for two weeks...I have temporary leverage!

Bon Odori in Mabori

During our third July in Japan, we finally experienced our neighborhood summer festival a few weekends ago. It's called Bon Odori. There are Japanese food concession stands, but the main event is a covered stage in which taiko drums (large Japanese drums) are played while performers dance in a circle around the drummers.

This apparently, according to Wiki, "originates from the story of Mokuren, a disciple of the Buddha, who used his supernatural powers to see his deceased mother. He discovered she had fallen into the "Realm of Hungry Ghosts" and was suffering. Greatly disturbed, he asked Buddha how he could release his mother from this realm. Buddha instructed him to make offerings to the many Buddhist monks who had just completed their summer retreat, on the fifteenth day of the seventh month. The disciple did this and, thus, saw his mother's release. He also began to see the true nature of her past unselfishness and the many sacrifices that she had made for him. The disciple, happy because of his mother's release and grateful for his mother's kindness, danced with joy. From this dance of joy comes Bon Odori or "Bon Dance", a time in which ancestors and their sacrifices are remembered and appreciated."

If all goes as planned, I can imagine Sydney, already my sweet little dancer, doing a dance in remembrance of me when I'm gone. Either that, or in celebration of my passing. After only 2.8 years, I realize it could still go either way...