Sean's Summer
Journal Entries - Week Two
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Saturday, 21 June 2008
So, I woke up at something like 0200 and I wrote more of the journal. I can’t do much until things start to open anyway, so here I sit. While online, I happened across a few friends online and chatted a little bit. Andy and family seem to be doing well, and I learned about “cat brains”. I won’t explain that here, but it was humorous. Another friend, Felix, is also military and had apparently been to Kadena, or at least in the area. He mentioned that the summers here are usually “black”, referring to the heat, and means that nobody does strenuous activities outside. So it’s no wonder I’ve been sweating my butt off. Felix also mentioned that Marines had been banned from the Banyan Tree Lounge at one point in time, but that didn’t appear to be the case anymore. As I sat in the lobby of the Shogun Inn writing this journal, a couple drunk folks stumbled in and had a conversation with another guy sitting in the lobby. They obviously knew each other and talked about a fight that almost occurred. Thankfully, one guy was sober and was able to avoid it. A short while after this group left, another man walked in with his newfound “friend”, probably at a price, and stumbled around the lobby for a minute before heading upstairs. She was dressed the part, too. It was interesting to note the “services” that pop up around military bases overseas. It was almost sad, though, to see the locals abandoning their own culture to take on a more “western” style.
In any case, my computer battery started to get low after a few hours, so I returned to my room and watched some TV before taking a nap. I found out while watching TV, though, that there’s a curfew in effect for base personnel. This doesn’t obviously apply to retirees, but it certainly limits outside excursions, taxis, and re-entry to post after hours. In addition, I learned that there’s a TC-4 weather advisory in effect. There are possible destructive winds in excess of 50 knots (70 mph?) over the next 72 hours. I hope this doesn’t affect my trip tomorrow and I certainly hope this doesn’t affect my travel plans to Korea. I finally fell asleep watching a movie. Interestingly, many of the movies are dubbed over in Japanese and have English subtitles.
My nap didn’t last long, and I was up again looking for something to do. I’d seen advertisements for the base travel and MWR group, Information, Tickets, and Travel (ITT). I called and made arrangements to come in and speak to them about a trip to Shurijo and ShikinaEn, another local castle and garden, on Sunday.
I headed out to the barber shop to get my hair cut on the way to ITT. I know my hair wasn’t that long, but it was starting to bother me and the heat just made it worse. I walked over to the “Rocker” NCO club and checked the place out before walking in to the barber shop. It was awesome. Twice as nice as the E-Club. I’ve also had to walk by the O-Club several times, and I can only imagine what that must be like. There was a restaurant, a large bar and grill divided into several sections, conference rooms, a concierge service desk, and so forth, but the place was pretty fancy compared to other buildings I’d seen. Then I walked in to the barber shop where three Okinawan women were giving haircuts. I got my hair chopped, though not completely in military style. The woman shaved the sides and back with a straight razor, literally slapped me with some aftershave, and gave a quick neck massage, very similar to the Pakistanis contractors in Ramadi, Iraq. The barbershop services are always quite nice compared to what you get at home. I wonder if there’s a military school they have to attend to certify as contract barbers overseas because you don’t get the same service at CONUS posts. I wandered back out and walked over to the community center. The weather was slightly cooler than yesterday because of some cloud cover, but when I say “cloud cover”, I mean to say that I saw a couple clouds in the sky…never directly overhead. Needless to say, it was hot.
I arrived at the community center and talked to a representative. Everything for today was already full, but there wasn’t really much of interest to see if I’d gone today anyway. So I paid my fee for the trip, about $30, and they told me I needed to exchange Dollars for Yen so I could buy lunch and purchase any souvenirs, if desired. Thankfully, there was a bank nearby, but they couldn’t help me because I was a retiree and not a regular active duty member or a contractor. I had to find an ATM to withdraw Yen directly.
After the ATM, I figured I’d go watch a movie since it was about to start anyway and I was in the area. The only thing playing at the time was “Kung Fu Panda”, which wasn’t at the top of my list, but it was cheap and it was air-conditioned. I walked in to the theater and found it to be exactly like any other military theater I’d been in. It’s hard to explain, but these things are huge. No balcony, but almost twice as large as your average theater. Theaters on post usually double as briefing rooms and classrooms for large groups, so that explains the size. Other than that, though, there were only two things that told you this was a military theater. First is the large “Alert Force” sign on the wall that can be illuminated in case of emergency, and second was the fact that they play the national anthem before any movie. I’d almost forgotten that until everyone stood up as the lights went down. The movie was interesting in spite of Jack Black, but I probably wouldn’t see it again without children present.
It was getting on toward mid-afternoon, I didn’t want to spend all my money on junk at the shops or the BX/PX, and I hadn’t really eaten since morning, so I walked back to the Inn. That gave me some time to write more of the journal, too. There’s another movie playing this evening that I may go see and I still want to make it to the gym. I’ve discovered that there isn’t one in this building like there was in the other building, but the main post gym is only about half a mile away. That should provide some better equipment to use.
Sunday, 22 June 2008
I got up early to get ready for the trip today, walked to the Community Center and tried to find some coffee on the way, but nothing was open and nobody had arrived for the trip yet. I took a detour to the NCO Club and picked up some Starbucks fru-fru stuff then walked back to the Community Center just in time to see the bus pulling around the building and a group of people waiting outside. We loaded up and headed out. Our tour guide was an older Okinawan woman, very intelligent and somewhat humorous, who had apparently been leading tours and studying Okinawan history for years. There was even an article about her in some newspaper describing her historical commentary and quest for historical accuracy.
Shurijo (Shuri Castle) is in the middle of Naha, Okinawa, which is about a 40-minute drive south from Kadena. Okinawa is actually much larger than I anticipated, though it’s still a small island. My guess is that it’s a couple hundred miles long and maybe 60 miles wide…pure speculation. The towns are dirtier than I expected and the buildings are mostly old and run-down. The streets, on the other hand, are all very well kept; clean and serviceable with no potholes. I thought that was an odd contrast. We parked in an underground parking lot and walked out to the entrance to the castle. The place was mostly destroyed during and after WWII except for the walls. Many of the original structures were rebuilt from photographs taken in the early 20th century and from firsthand knowledge of the interior designs. The walls were absolutely unbelievable. The layout and the style are very similar to what you might see in the movies, but they were still awe-inspiring. The place must have been easily defensible. As a side note, I noticed another one of the guys was wearing a “KU 2008 National Championship” t-shirt while touring the main hall. It might have been the same one I have. Even though he was from Wichita, it was still an interesting coincidence. We had a brief laugh about that. Anyway, after touring the castle, we returned to the main courtyard for a 40-minute dance and entertainment presentation with traditional kimonos (Okinawan-style, a little different), hats, and the musicians were playing replica instruments. It was interesting for a while, but I thought 40 minutes was a little long. Even so, I liked the history and the authenticity.
After the entertainment, we returned to the bus and headed to the Naha mall for lunch and a little shopping. The interesting thing about the mall is that it looked modern and well taken care of, but the surrounding area was dirty and worn down. There’s a large proportion of signage and print in English, which surprised me, but that made it a little easier to figure out what the stores were and where I needed to go to find the bathroom. We all split up for a while and found our own places to eat. I considered having Chinese for lunch, but decided I should probably eat authentic Japanese/Okinawan while I was here. I found a nice-looking place with decent prices, but there was one problem. You can find about anything you want with English subscript somewhere telling you what it is, except the food choices. Unless you can read Japanese, you can’t tell what you’re getting. I pointed to a picture of a bowl with meat, rice, eggs, and vegetables that looked edible and the staff went to work. I didn’t remember to get something to drink until after I’d been dismissed and another patron wandered up, so I took a moment to walk to the “A&W” joint to get some water. Even though it was an American shop, I knew better than to expect they’d speak English, so I was prepared to write “water” in Chinese so they knew what I wanted. The waitress said “Konichiwa” and I drew the character for “water” and handed it to her. She looked me dead in the eyes and said, “oh, water”. Well, I guess I wasn’t as smart as I thought. So I got my water and walked back to get my food. It looked good and smelled good, but I wasn’t sure how it would taste and after sitting down and looking at it, I couldn’t tell what the meat was. I thought it was chicken, but it could have been fish. The funny part was that even after eating it, I still couldn’t tell you what it was. Hell, it could be camel or dog for all I know. It was good, though. I went back to shopping after eating my unidentified stuff with some liquid stuff mixed in and more unidentified stuff on top, but there wasn’t really anything interesting for me at the mall except a nice Taylormade R7 golf driver, so I left empty-handed.
When we got back on the bus I started to talk to the family next to me again. There was a Hawaiian woman with her three kids and her sister sitting across from me and in front of me on the ride up from Kadena and for the most part everyone took the same seats. The kids decided, for some reason, that I was interesting enough to talk to, so they took turns sitting next to me the rest of the trip. They were really interesting people, but the kids really had some great one-liners.
We arrived at ShikinaEn Royal Garden and spent about 30 minutes wandering around. It wasn’t that big, and it wasn’t as fancy as some of the Chinese Gardens I’d seen, but it was still a very nice place. Some grass, lots of dirt, and lots of trees. Toward the back of the garden was a larger building next to the pond. It was a traditional “guest house”, I suppose, but there was a large group of people inside. As we approached, a woman came out and informed us, through our tour guide, that there was a wedding going on inside. Now, apparently the park had told the wedding party that visitors may come by and mingle, so it wouldn’t be completely private, and our guide said we could go in if we wanted. I couldn’t imagine anyone going in and wandering around during a wedding, but most of the people did. That was just wrong, in my opinion, so I wandered around the rest of the pond until they finished and came outside. Now, once they come out and they’re in more “public” space, that’s fine. I took a couple pictures inside the building and then sat on a little hill while they took pictures and I waited for the rest of the tour to wander around what I’d already seen. We wandered back out and got on the bus bound for Kadena. It was a good time, but wow, the humidity really took it out of me. I drank 5 bottles of water and I was still dehydrated. My feet were killing me, too. I wanted to take a nap on the way back to the base, but no such luck. The 4-year-old Hawaiian girl wanted to sit next to me and talk. It was actually a pretty short trip back to base anyway.
So we arrived back at the Community Center around 3 pm and, of course, I had to walk back to the inn. I made a stop on the way to pick up some more water from the commissary and I think I grabbed some food, too. I collapsed on the bed in my room and watched TV for a little bit while I cooled off, and a short while later I got a phone call. It was the front desk with a reminder that I was checking out tomorrow. That reminded me that I needed to check on flights again to make sure nothing changed, so I checked the AMC TV channel and everything looked good. I decided to take the laptop down to the lobby to work on my journal for the evening, check email, and work on the website some more. This time I took my power cord with me, but it was still a frustrating few hours before I went to bed.
Monday, 23 June 2008
OK, things were going well. I woke up on the right side of the bed, I felt great, went to pay for another night at the inn and actually got to keep the same room, and then I had a little something to eat. I spent the morning putting the website up on the Internet and making minor corrections to the HTML so it displayed properly and everything worked well. I also got to chat with a couple friends online because the Internet was working really well for some reason. It was a wonderful, beautiful morning. I should have known it wouldn’t last.
Around noon I came back up to my room and decided to call the AMC passenger terminal to double check the show time for the flight tomorrow. A friendly-sounding Okinawan woman answered the phone and looked up the flight information for me. I was absolutely shocked to hear that the flight to Korea tomorrow would be cargo only. Holy crap! Now what? I spent the next few hours contacting Yakota Air Base to check on flights and then contacting Kadena AMC again to verify information…back and forth. Yakota had a flight to Kunsan, Korea at 0400 the next morning, which wasn’t anywhere near where I wanted to go, but it was in Korea. That’s all I needed right now. Hell, I’ll hitchhike across Korea if I need to, but that’s one hell of a swim from Okinawa or Japan. I had to get a flight to Yakota today in order to make the 0400 flight to Kunsan, but Kadena only had flights to Guam and Thailand left for today and I’d apparently run out of luck. I tried looking at commercial flights, too, but in order to make that happen it would cost me $550 for the flight plus another $100 for the cab to the airport and I’d have to leave right now. Not going to happen. I was pissed.
It was getting late in the afternoon and I decided I needed to find something to do. I figured I’d head to Chili’s to get some real food and then go to the gym. That should make me feel better, right? There’s nothing I can do until tomorrow and I’d basically made up my mind to take a flight to Yakota and hope they have more luck with flights. I’m sure the Shogun Inn was getting tired of accommodating me anyway. They’ve been almost at capacity since I’ve been here. I started walking to Chili’s, about a mile to a mile and a half, and I noticed that the weather, while hot and muggy, was bearable. Just as I started to think I was acclimating to the weather, the sun came out from behind some clouds and completely crushed my already-battered spirit. Oh, well, nothing new I suppose, and certainly nothing a nice margarita won’t fix. So I arrived at Chili’s and left a nice little puddle for them in the entryway before following the hostess to my seat. I ordered fish, salad, and vegetables, which is unusual for me, but I think I was actually craving something good for me. Oh, yeah, and the margarita. I noted as I ate that half the employees at Chili’s, marketed as “just like home” around post, were Okinawan. The rest were a combination of military spouses and foreign contractors. There’s nothing like “Konichiwa”…”burger and fries, please”…”arigato” to remind you of hometown, USA.
Next stop, the gym. On a full stomach. And feeling the margarita. Lovely. The place was packed, which I should have expected, but I found a couple machines and few free weights available. I did my thing and I think it made me feel better about life, the universe, and everything. Since I was already soaking wet, I didn’t mind the return trip to the inn.
So, some more writing, a little laundry, TV, and getting ready for an early start tomorrow are the order of the evening.
Tuesday, 24 June 2008
Well, I tried to wake up early, but I just couldn’t manage it. I didn’t sleep well, I feel like crap, I’m sore from working out (I could barely sit up to get out of bed), and I have blisters on my feet. I’ve decided that I need to go to Yakota. I’m not having any luck here in Okinawa and any flights to Korea would likely need to go through Yakota anyway. It’s entirely possible that I’ll need to buy a ticket to Korea from Yakota or Tokyo if they don’t have a flight soon, and it would probably be cheaper from mainland Japan than from Okinawa. So I called the passenger terminal to verify flight times and show times and they have two flights this afternoon that I could hop. One flight at 1800 and one flight at 1830, with show times at 1600 and 1630. Well, that wouldn’t be so bad except that I have to be checked out of my room by 1100. The airman at the front desk of the Shogun Inn verified that there was indeed a USO where I could hang out just down the street (toward Gate 2, the opposite direction from where I usually go) and he said it was close enough that I could carry all my bags so I wouldn’t have to get a taxi. I don’t dislike Kadena, but I’m done here and they don’t have flights available to Korea, like I’d been told. Not only will I now have the chance to see another post and another part of the world, I should (hopefully) have better opportunities for catching a flight. I place all the blame on that airman in Seattle. I’m not that upset, really, because I had the opportunity to see Okinawa, but now it’s time to go. Time is starting to run short.
I repacked all my bags and got ready to go. I walked to the USO, which wasn’t that far, but carrying heavy travel bags even four blocks can wear you out. I spent the day there, checked email, had some food at Chili’s Too, watched a movie on their big screen TV, and at 1530 I caught a taxi to the passenger terminal. Showtime was at 1600, but I’ve found it’s always better to be early for Space A flights. I checked in at the desk to let them know I was present and the wait began. The flights were scheduled for 1800 and 1830, so I found a place to “hang out” while we waited for confirmation. This is about the point where things went from bad to worse.
There were 10 to 15 available seats for Space A travelers on each of the two scheduled flights. The first flight filled up quickly because there were about 20-30 people waiting to go to Yakota, so I didn’t expect to get on the first flight, but as soon as the first flight filled up, the terminal personnel notified us that the second flight was not going to take Space A passengers. The rest of us were out of luck. Well, I happened to talk to another Air Force retiree who lived in Japan, about my age but maybe a little older, and he mentioned that I could get a room at the Navy Lodge, which would be cheaper than the Air Force Lodge. Well, I figured about this time that I should probably conserve a little money, so I took another taxi to the Navy Lodge, named “Habu Hilton”. I have to say, accommodations at the Shogun Inn were great, and $28 isn’t bad for a night at a nice hotel with all kinds of amenities, but $8 a night at the Navy Lodge seemed too good to pass up. I arrived at the Habu Hilton at about 1630, I think, and they told me I’d have to wait until 1800 to check in because I was not on orders. They finally checked me in and I went to my room. Now, I should add that the Shogun Inn’s hallways looked like some kind of Eastern European block building, begging you to slit your wrists because you’ll never find a glimmer of happiness again, but the exteriors, the lobbies, and the rooms were absolutely amazing. Compared to the Shogun Inn, this place was a shit hole. The room wasn’t absolutely terrible, though it was maybe one-third the size; however, we had shared bathrooms and no other services. There were about 8 rooms in each section with a common area that had a kitchen, and the place was pretty shabby. The air conditioning was on full-blast but there was no de-humidifier. So, even though the room was cold, I still felt uncomfortable because of the humidity. The place didn’t have an elevator either and all the entrances were exterior, which wouldn’t normally have bothered me, but I was in a bad mood to begin with. Not to mention that all my “roommates” were Marines. That isn’t to say that Marines are bad roommates, but they’re certainly not overly friendly to outsiders. I knew that there was another flight out tomorrow to Yakota, so I wasn’t completely out of luck, but I spent the rest of the evening in my room. What a waste of a day.
Wednesday, 25 June 2008
I set two alarms on my alarm clock (one at 0559 and one at 0601), which was also a piece of crap by the way, but neither of them went off. I happened to wake up at 0700, which was extremely fortunate for me. I didn’t sleep well because I froze my butt off and I was miserable because of the humidity. I cleaned up as quickly as I could and gathered my things before checking out and calling a cab. There was no time for breakfast. The airman told me that show time for the Yakota flight was 0800, but I’d heard someone else say 0745 earlier, so I arrived about 0730. The Wednesday flights are “Patriot Express” flights, or flights for people returning to the U.S, so it’s always busy. There were about 100 to 150 people packed in a tiny little terminal waiting for flight information. It’s lucky I arrived when I did. I checked in at the desk and the wait began…again. Anyone who arrived at 0800 or later was turned away because they either didn’t have the time to mess with them or they didn’t have the room for them. In any case, I was last priority because of my status, so I knew this would take a while, but there was nowhere to sit. After about two hours we finally found out that everyone would make it on the flight. They had 80 Space A seats slotted and there was only one available seat left on the aircraft by the time we boarded. I was extremely lucky because there were about five people that didn’t show up for roll call. Talk about close.
I got lucky again boarding the flight because the only seat they had for me was in First Class. Very nice, if I do say so myself. Today might actually begin the “turn around” I’ve been looking for. The flight left Kadena around 1115, after the terminal located a lost passenger and returned him to the correct plane, and we headed off to Japan. The pilot mentioned that there had been a lot of turbulence on the flight out, so he expected the same for the return flight. The weather was cloudy and slightly windy and I’d guess that the “typhoon” everyone’s been tracking was affecting flights a little bit. Well, the flight was a little bumpy, but really not that bad until we began to descend into Yakota. I’ve NEVER seen a plane move the way that thing did. We could feel the plane shifting, rising, falling, rotating, pitching, and yawing down the last 10 minutes of the flight. Looking out the window, you could actually see the plane whipping around by watching the land below. The pilot had to kick up the engines to gain power and make adjustments, and then he’d drop them again to slow down. It was a constant correction up until the minute we got over the tarmac. We had a pretty smooth landing considering what the wind was doing to the plane in the air. That was amazing. Once we got out of the plane, though, there was no wind. The temperature was nice because of the cloud cover and the humidity was bearable. It was weird.
The first order of business at Yakota was to check on flights to Korea and then get information on the base and post lodging. I found out the Air Force Lodge here is called the Kanto Lodge, I got a couple maps of the area, and I got information on the bus routes for Yakota AB. The next flight to Korea was scheduled for Friday morning at 0600 (show time at 0400), provided there aren’t any changes. That gives me a day to be a tourist and get my things in order (like laundry and money conversions). I picked up my bags and I waited for the bus to take me to the lodge. Several people just walked to the lodge, and I’d considered it, but after hauling my bags around all day yesterday I knew how heavy they could get. I guess I just felt like waiting. An older gentleman stopped by and talked to me for a few minutes and took me to the bus stop, which was around the corner. I’m glad he stopped by, because I was in the wrong place. I’d seen several other people pick up a bus at the corner where I was, but apparently that was the wrong bus. The post bus only stopped by once per hour, so I had to wait about 30 minutes before it showed up, but that was fine. I wasn’t in any huge rush; however, when it showed up it was mostly full. There were a couple families waiting at the bus stop, plus the older gentleman, so I decided I’d just walk. I really didn’t want to, and the bags really wore me out by the time I got to the lodge, but I wasn’t going to make the others walk or wait for another bus.
The Kanto Lodge was a welcome sight. It wasn’t as nice as the Shogun Inn, but it was quite an improvement over the Habu Hilton. They still charged me $28 per night, for two nights, so I wasn’t thrilled, but I guess I couldn’t complain too much. The room was nice and the overall appearance didn’t make me want to jump out a window. I unloaded in my room and cleaned up a little bit before heading out to see what I could see. I needed to gather some intelligence about the area, so what better place to go than the E Club?
As I walked around the post, I wasn’t sure I liked it. My initial impression was that it seemed small, cramped, and dull. But, the more I walked around the more I noticed and appreciated the subtle differences. Kadena was what I recognized as a typical base. It was spread out, things were (mostly) logically organized, and you could recognize what everything was by its appearance…it just felt right. Yakota, on the other hand, had much more of what I’ll call a “Japanese” feel. Things were closer together and built up higher, true, but things just looked better, prettier if you will, than they did in Kadena. There were little additions to buildings like the Japanese style gates, for example. I walked by Burger King, and I swore I wouldn’t have fast food again this week, but my stomach disagreed with me. The BX/PX was on top of a three-story building with shops, escalators, and food courts, and the Commissary was on the bottom floor. It was like a mini-shopping mall. The building was really interesting; quite different from what I was used to as traditional military organization and architecture, but very nice.
I found the E Club and checked the place out before settling in. As in Kadena, there are slot machine rooms all over. This place, though, didn’t have a dance floor like Kadena did, so I figured there probably wasn’t much after hours activity at the E Club here in Yakota. There were also several older American men at the bar, which surprised me. There must be many more Americans retiring in Japan than I expected. I spoke with bartender briefly to find out about the community and the local points of interest, and he mentioned “bar row” in town. The bartender was a really nice, older, Japanese man who always bowed twice when you gave him a tip. I thought that it was odd that he’d refer people to “bar row”. I didn’t want to go to bars. So I mentioned that to him and asked about historical sites, but he suggested that I talk to the Associate Manager for more information. I don’t know if he couldn’t articulate it to me or if he wasn’t comfortable talking to foreigners about sites in Japan, but I got some good information about several places of interest. For all I know, the bartender didn’t want servicemembers wandering around town outside the “known” hangouts, but I still thought he was a great guy. One of the places the manager mentioned to me was the Imperial Palace in Tokyo. That caught my attention. He also pointed out that I could get maps and more information from the Community Center, which I passed on the way, so I finished my drink and started walking back. I stopped by the community center, got some maps, train and subway information, and headed back to my room. I spent the evening writing in the journal after a quick stop at the ATM in the lodge to withdraw some Yen. I tried to get on the wireless internet in the main lobby, too, but didn’t have any luck. There were half a dozen other people online, as well, and at least one person was playing World of Warcraft, sucking up all the bandwidth. I didn’t want to waste my battery just trying to get on, so I called it a night.
Thursday, 26 June 2008
Well, I didn’t know it yet, but this was about to be an awesome day. I got up early so I could go check email and publish stuff, which worked this time. On the way back out of the hotel lobby, I ran across the older gentleman that I’d met the day before. We sat and talked military stuff for a while and he told me a story about a flight he had in Vietnam that ended up with the C-130 he was riding in snapping the front landing gear upon landing. He said that was the first and only time the Air Force bought him some whiskey. This story was particularly interesting because just a couple years ago he was flying around Japan and a Colonel asked him why he looked familiar. As they talked about it, they determined that the Colonel was the one flying the C-130 that day and bought his drinks. After exchanging a few stories, I headed back to my room to get ready for a day in the big city. It was raining and cloudy with no appearance of letting up, but I was going to make it to Tokyo come hell or high water. I had a nice, new rain jacket that I was more than willing to submit to a trial-by-fire. My shorts and my shoes, on the other hand, would just have to suck it up.
I left about 0830 and walked out the only gate I knew toward the train station. I found out later that the gate I needed to exit was actually the other direction, and was actually closer to the hotel than I expected. I talked to the Japanese Air Force gate guard on the way out for directions, but he wasn’t very helpful; he just pointed me out the gate. I walked across the street, which apparently was a highway where I wasn’t supposed to cross, and managed to earn myself a weak reprimand from a Japanese Air Force Policeman. There was a skyway down the street where I was supposed to cross, but I never saw it as I walked out toward the gate because of the wall. I wandered through town, which was called Fussa, and eventually found the train station. Yes, I had to stop and ask for directions. It took a little while to get to the station, but the town was an interesting mix of various ethnic shops and restaurants that I didn’t expect in the middle of Japan, to include Indian, a couple middle eastern places, American, and somewhere I saw an Irish pub. Japanese main streets are generally straight, but there are all kinds of cross streets at weird angles, tiny alleys, pedestrian-only streets, etc… Their streets are also usually very narrow. Often times there’s a walking lane along the street if there isn’t a sidewalk. Everything is very compact and things are built upwards instead of outwards. I still look the wrong way before crossing a street and I have to remind myself to check the other way.
Once I got to the train station the confusion began. Fortunately for me, I had relatively good directions, but that didn’t solve all my problems. Sometimes you can find something in English to help you figure out the craziness…but usually you just have to screw up before you learn. I found the entrance to the line that went to Tokyo’s main terminal and I tried to walk through the pedestrian gate, but two little doors popped out in front of me, a red light popped on, and the box made a loud buzz that told everyone in a 2-mile radius what a moron I was. Well, maybe not a moron, but at least ignorant. So I backtracked a little bit, walked around the corner, and found the ticket machines. It cost somewhere around 900 Yen (about $9) for a ticket to Tokyo, which was about an hour and a half away. This time I was equipped to handle the pedestrian gate and passed through to the tracks. The train and subway systems in and around Tokyo are some of the most complicated public transit systems in the world. I’ve been on the trains and the subways in Chicago and I’ve been on the subways in New York City, so I have a basis for comparison. If you can imagine those, take away any frame of reference, multiply the confusion by at least two, and then remove most of the English directions and references. You can ask for directions, but there’s no guarantee that you’ll understand the response. My only saving grace on this entire trip was that I could pick up a few Chinese characters here and there and if I looked hard enough I could generally find something in English, not that it’s always helpful. Anyway, I found my train and happened to arrive in time to board the one express train to Tokyo each hour. That was fortunate because I didn’t have to worry about a transfer halfway there in Tachikawa. I’d heard about how crowded the public transit system is in Seoul, Korea, so I assumed that this would be at least as bad; however, the traffic was comparatively light. It got more crowded the closer we got to Tokyo, but there was still enough room to move about as needed. I gave up my seat to an older woman as the train filled up and I stood up the rest of the way.
Upon arriving at the Tokyo main terminal, I understood just how hard this could be. The place was enormous. HUGE. Literally thousands of people rushing about, shops everywhere, lights blinking, hallways, stairs, escalators…it was a maze. I wandered about aimlessly for a little while until I happened across an information booth. I tried to explain where I wanted to go, and I tried to pronounce everything in Japanese, but it turned out that I didn’t need to because she was able to fully explain everything I needed to know in nearly perfect English. Wow, what a relief. I found my way to the street and once I oriented myself to the map I was able to easily find my way to the Imperial Palace’s Ote-Mon gate (I’m not sure, but I think the Chinese characters for Ote-Mon mean East Gate).
The palace didn’t have all the buildings that I expected because most of them had either been destroyed in the 1600s or destroyed sometime around WWII. The walls and some of the buildings were the only structures to survive, but even they required some restoration. Even so, this place was unbelievable. It was almost an entire city in itself, though a significant portion of it was off-limits to visitors. I didn’t learn why until later (I’ll get there…). I can’t begin to explain what this place was like. You could almost feel the history, the infamy, the culture, the struggles, and the triumphs as you walked through the grounds. It was amazing. I spent a good two hours, easily, wandering around inside before I decided to head out. There was still some time to stop by a temple on the way back to Yakota if I didn’t waste too much time; however, something grabbed my attention as I walked back out the gate and across the moat. I couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but for some reason I felt the need to walk around the outside of the Palace area and down the street. The farther I walked, the more I found to be of interest. I walked around the corner and saw a huge gravel area with a small walkway down the middle and there was a large, immaculately trimmed garden of trees nicely arranged in rows near the main road. I just thought it was a park. I walked across the walkway and found an incline with a beautiful stone bridge leading to a gate with guards in front. Entry was barred by a couple of smaller metal gates and the area was patrolled by a few police officers so visitors couldn’t get too close, but it was obviously part of the Imperial Palace grounds. I couldn’t figure out why I hadn’t seen this from the inside. I had no idea that there was so much more to it. I approached the bridge and snapped a few pictures. A woman who I assumed to be Japanese stood nearby with her two daughters overlooking the moat and observing a second bridge farther down the way, but elevated much higher than the first. She surprised me when she said hello in English. She was an American, from Chicago, so we talked for a little while. The woman informed me that the bridge and the gate I was standing next to was the actual entrance to the Emperor’s residence. That was quite a surprise. She mentioned that the last time she was here the Emperor and his entourage drove up, among much fanfare and cheering, and entered the palace. It’s amazing what you can learn, and whom you can meet, in some of the strangest places and in the strangest of circumstances. I certainly never expected that I’d be standing outside the Emperor of Japan’s palace when I started planning my trip to Korea.
Well, that was an awesome experience, but it was time to head out. I also decided to find some food on the way, since I hadn’t really eaten today. I remembered there was a row of small, walk-in restaurants near the train station. I obviously couldn’t read the names of the shops and I couldn’t tell exactly what type of food it was unless I can read some Chinese characters. So, I followed my nose to something that smelled good and saw that the pictures looked appetizing. I walked in, sat down, and pointed to something that looked good. When I was served, it looked exactly like my favorite Korean dish, Dolsot Bibimbap, and was served in the same large, stone bowl. Well, I happened to say that out loud, and the waitress said yes, that it was. Leave it to me to find the only Korean restaurant in Tokyo within a 3-mile radius of the train station and palace and then to just happen to pick my favorite dish. What are the odds? Hell, I had no idea, but I’ve noticed that Japanese food is comparatively bland and doesn’t have much smell compared to Korean food, so I should have guessed.
I walked back to the train station and started looking for a way to get to the temple. I knew it was along the same line I came in on, but I wasn’t sure how to get back there. I stopped at the information booth again and got directions from the same woman who helped me before, but the directions she gave me differed from what I understood of the directions I’d picked up from the community center at Yakota the day before. That put me a little outside my comfort zone, but I figured she knew what she was talking about so I followed her advice. I had to take a train to Kanda and then find the subway to take me the rest of the way to Asakusa. I was starting to get used to the transit system here, so I was a little more comfortable with entry and exit procedures, but honestly once you get to the tracks it almost feels like a guessing game. At least until you start to get used to it. I boarded the train and ended up in Kanda, another large terminal but not as large as Tokyo main, and found my way to the street after a mostly non-verbal “discussion” with a terminal agent.
At some point during the day, probably waiting in line for the bathroom, I caught myself getting impatient and I said to myself, “I don’t have time for this”. But, after a moment of contemplation, I realized that yes, I did indeed have all day, and most of the night if I wanted, too. I was getting anxious because I wasn’t used to not having a schedule. Once I removed that mental barrier, I was better able to enjoy myself and relax. So, I knew I needed to find the subway, but had no clue where the subway was. It wasn’t co-located with the train station, but I was sure it wasn’t far away. If you’re on main streets, you can find subway entrances along the sides of the road just like anywhere else. Unfortunately, I wasn’t on a “main” street and I couldn’t really see one from where I was. After some wandering about unsuccessfully trying to find something that looked like a subway entrance or subway sign, I stopped to ask for directions from a group of three young ladies. You can really get a lot more information by using hand signals and pronouncing the names of specific locations than you might initially believe. One of the young ladies spoke a small amount of English, and even though we still had some difficulty communicating she was able to point me toward the subway. She asked me to wait a moment because she had to look up something on her phone before she could give me an answer. I don’t know if she was looking up directions or if she was using an English translator, but either was we got it worked out. Japanese (as well as Koreans) are very tech-savvy and they’re always doing something with their phones, by the way. I figured out that “konichiwa” and “arigato” can help out tremendously, especially as an American that looks like he might be a soldier. Not that they dislike Americans, necessarily, but we aren’t always warmly welcomed. The official line is that they want us there and they need us there, but they don’t, and they don’t. Anyway, I walked down the side street, under the elevated train rails, down another block, and ran into another entrance to some sort of public transit service, but it looked like the train system again. As I stood scratching my head, the three young ladies walked up to me and started talking. I was surprised that they followed me, and somewhat relieved, because the subway entrance was farther down the block. The problem is that the subway entrance was a narrow hole in the wall with a small, nearly unrecognizable sign above it and the entrance was angled backwards so I would never have seen it. I expressed my gratitude and we parted ways.
I got on the subway and headed to Asakusa. Another problem with large mass transit systems is that not only do you have to find the right way to get in and the right train/subway to get you where you want to go, but you also have to find the right exit to put you where you want to be. Asians and their tunnels are an awesome sight to behold. I had to stop, yet again, and have a minimally verbal “conversation” to figure out where I needed to go and once I hit the surface I could orient myself to the map. I found Sensoji temple without too much difficulty. All I had to do was look for the large wooden gate in the middle of several blocks of tall buildings. Sensoji is a Buddhist temple that people still visit for religious purposes, but it’s as much of a tourist attraction as a religious attraction. There is a strip of shops several blocks long that lines the entrance to the temple. Historically, these shops were for visitors to pick up gifts and offerings to present at the temple, but more and more shop owners began setting up shops offering food and other miscellaneous things as they realized they could capitalize on the masses visiting the temple. Over time it grew into a market. Again, interesting to observe, but a little sad that the tradition was lost. The temple area was smaller than I expected. There were a few large kettles, for lack of a better term, for burning incense and purifying yourself with the smoke, there was a water bowl-fountain thing that had some ritual significance, wooden stands with wires on which you tie your prayers, there were a few buildings, shrines, statues, and artifacts, and there was one main building with a place to drop offerings and pray or meditate. There were also a couple places that you could either write your own prayer or pick one of dozens of pre-written prayers by subject from a large mailbox-looking setup with lots of small wooden drawers in order to tie them to the wires. I’d studied a little bit about Buddhism during the course of my studies, but mostly about its migration and effects on culture and politics. This was something that I had no prior experience with. So, while I was a little disappointed with the actual site, except for the architecture, the significance, history, and the cultural relevance more than made up for it. I’m glad I came to see it.
I was done in Tokyo. I’d seen enough to make me happy and not enough to make me regret it. The weather had held up relatively well, with only a few sprinkles and one or two light showers, and I actually got cold once or twice in spite of the high humidity and average temperature. I walked out of the Sensoji area and across the street at 1700 (5:00 for you civilians). The timing was impeccable. There was an information center across the street that I think might have had a bank in it, but it had a large clock above the door. The clock started chiming the time, and suddenly broke into song. One of the pictures next to the clock flipped around to expose a Bavarian-style clockwork scene (Japanese, of course) that danced around and flopped about. Shortly thereafter, the picture on the other side flipped around and revealed another scene that enthralled the gathering crowd. After another minute, the entire clock face shifted upward and a third scene popped out of the wall and joined in the dance. That just completely caught me off guard. It was a sight, let me say. I think I shot a short video of it before my camera’s memory ran out and cut me off. I guess I just timed that perfectly. The entire show lasted three minutes before closing back up. If we hadn’t all been in awe, we might have given it a standing ovation.
Well, I found the subway easily this time, made my down the “Ginza” subway line to Kanda, and transferred to the train system’s “Chuo” line. I wouldn’t say I was getting comfortable with the system, but it was getting easier. The problem was still figuring out how much you needed to pay to buy a specific ticket since all the guides were in Japanese and then identifying the proper train. There are several options you could take, some local and some “express” routes. So, even if you think you have the right train, you’re just never sure you’re going the right way or that the train is going to do what you want. I jumped on the first one I came across knowing I’d have to transfer again at Tachikawa, but I didn’t figure it would be a problem. None of the stops sounded familiar, but I was reasonable certain this had to be the correct train. As I monitored the announcement boards and the route maps on the train, though, I realized that this train didn’t go all the way to my transfer point. I figured out from watching the video guide above each door that I could get out at a certain station and probably catch the “Ome” line express train, a direct line back to Fussa without a transfer in Tachikawa. I just didn’t know how long it would take. I hopped out and waited about 15 minutes for the “Ome” express line train. I forgot to mention that this was “rush hour”. I left Sensoji shortly after 1700, so everyone was leaving work. When I transferred to the train line from the subway line, it was front-to-butt. “Assholes and elbows”, so to speak. This was the kind of traffic I expected to see in Tokyo. I’d heard stories about Korean subways that have employees whose job it is to stuff people into the cars so they can shut the doors, but there were none of those here. We just packed in tighter and we managed to get it done. The “Ome” express line took me directly to Fussa. I stood up the whole time, obviously, and by the time I got to Fussa my feet were killing me. I still had to walk back to post and then walk to the lodge.
It was dark by the time I made it back around 2000 hours. Fussa looks completely different at night, but then again I took a different route home. Many of the shops were obviously geared toward the military crowd, but all-in-all it was a nice blend of Japanese style shops and soldier-friendly shops with plenty of fancy lights and attractions to lure you in. I almost stopped to observe the night life, but my feet and my back convinced me to continue. I made it back with no problems.
The first thing I did when I got back to my room was to call the passenger terminal and double check the flight schedule for the following morning. The terminal agent told me in the typical happy, sweet, feminine Japanese voice that the flight to Korea was still on schedule and that there were 50 slotted seats, but she didn’t know how many people were going to show up for the flight. I could still get screwed, but I felt good about it. I spent the rest of the evening writing this long, drawn out account of the day. I’ll have to be up to go to the terminal in about four hours.
As a side note, Tom and I visited Stute in Arizona in the middle of May and I remember that Stute mentioned his hope to do something like battle wildfires again as one last “hoorah” before he retires. I only mentioned this because as I sat watching the news tonight I saw that there were fires raging in Arizona. I hope he gets his wish.
Friday, 27 June 2008
I couldn’t imagine that there would be many people going to Korea, so with 50 open seats I was sure I’d get on the flight; however, as I walked out the door to the lobby in order to check out, I saw at least 2 other people doing the same. In the lobby, 4 families came out from their rooms to check out. This was starting to look bad, and we hadn’t even made it to the terminal yet. I checked out and managed to catch a ride in the hotel van (they weren’t supposed to run people around with it, but another guy with his family and I persuaded the desk clerk to run us over before everyone else showed up). We were told that show time for the flight was 0440, so I arrived at 0420. There was a crowd gathering in the terminal, and I had a brief moment of relief when I saw that there were several flights scheduled for this morning, but then I realized that all the flights this morning were on the same aircraft going to 4 or 5 different places. It was a C-5 Galaxy with a small section for passengers. Well, after checking in I waited for the list to come out. My name fell in slot number 53 on a flight slotted for 49 people… but I didn’t know until later that the 49 slots available were for passage all the way through to Travis AFB in California. That didn’t include people that were stopping along the way. So, I was a little anxious as they started calling off names to pick up boarding passes, but as they hit the 49 and 50 marks, they just kept on going. They called my name, so I went and picked up my ticket. I’d made it!!
Now, one more detail before I can get on the aircraft. I have to get stamped out of the country by the Government of Japan Immigration and Customs officer…off post. The passenger terminal officers were aware of my situation, so they pulled me out of line to check in bags and jumped me up to the front. I checked my bag and then I literally ran (only about halfway) to the GoJ office several blocks away. Let’s not get carried away, I still had to carry my heavy backpack with me. Sure, it was still 0600 and the temperature wasn’t bad, but the humidity was already nasty. The GoJ officer stamped me out and I jogged back. I didn’t mind running because I was headed to Korea. I was ecstatic. The flight was boarding as I walked back into the terminal.
If you’ve never seen a C-5, let me tell you they’re big. And I don’t mean just large, I don’t mean big, I mean freakin’ huge. The bottoms of the engines hanging from the wings were still too high for a person to reach. Anything you do with this aircraft involves ladders and harnesses, and lots of them. We walked up the stairway to the passenger section in the top portion of the aircraft and the stairway was probably two or three times higher than any commercial stairway. The familiar smell of military aircraft, vehicles, and fuel really hit me as I walked through the hatch. It really brings back some memories. You never forget the smell; it’s like nothing you’ll smell anywhere else and I can’t even say what it is that makes it unique. The seats inside were just like passenger aircraft, but there were still differences. There was nowhere to put your bags, so you had to keep them between your feet or in your lap. As we began to taxi and take off, I also noticed something else. I didn’t pay attention as we entered the C-5, probably because the possibility just never occurred to me, but all the seats face rearward. I can only assume that this is because if something happens, they don’t want you to see it coming. There were only a couple windows, anyway, so we wouldn’t have noticed to begin with. Anyway, as we took off, and all through the flight, we were pulled out of our seats by the engine power instead of pushed into them. That was quite odd; however, it made it easier to lean forward and sleep as long as you don’t mind drooling on yourself.
I realized that I’d taken so many pictures yesterday in Tokyo that my memory card was full and my battery was dead on my camera. So, when I arrived in Korea, I wouldn’t be able to take any pictures until I recharged the battery and emptied the memory. Anyway, the whole morning I had plenty of opportunity to talk with various people boarding the plane. Several were going to Korea for military duty, or returning to duty after leave, and at least one was retired and lived in Korea. The two people I sat next to were a man assigned to Osan and his wife, returning after a trip with the kids to Hawaii. They were extremely helpful in explaining the base, bus routes, distances to posts and to Seoul, and about the Turumi Lodge on base. Two hours later we landed in Osan, Korea. I swear I had a stupid grin on my face for about 15 hours after we landed. People probably wondered what I was up to. I had to check in through Korean customs and get stamped in, and fortunately that was in the same building where we unloaded. Koreans know how to do it the right way, apparently. I grabbed my bags and started walking to the Lodge.
The Turumi Lodge is about a 5 to 10 minute walk from the terminal and I walked over with a man who’d been denied a spot on the next leg of the trip from Osan to Yakota. He was a civilian on his way to Hawaii, retired Air Force, and he owned two houses in Korea and one in Hawaii. He told me a little more about the post as we talked and explained that this was a “walking post”. Everything was within walking distance. I got to the lodge and the man headed off toward the bus terminal. The Turumi Lodge in Osan is quite possibly one of the nicest hotels I’ve even been in my life. It was amazing. Well, until you get to the rooms. The rooms are just average, but still better than most of the rooms I’d been in on this trip, except possibly the Shogun Inn. It was still only $28 per night.
I tried talking to as many people as I could in Korean around base. I was still stuck on Japanese for a while, though, so it took a little bit to transition to Korean. Saying “arigato” in Korea will definitely earn you some freaky looks. I also accidentally tried to pay for something with Yen coins mixed in with my American money, and that didn’t work out so well. I got some information, in Korean, on how to exchange money on post and how to get into town. I also found out where the other local services, such as the BX/PX, were. So, after dropping off my bags it was time to head out to check out the base. I had to get some food because, again, I hadn’t eaten yet. I seem to have that problem I the mornings. There were quite a few shops in the BX building selling local stuff, and it was all I could do to keep from spending money. I also tried to get into the BX, but the Korean woman at the front wasn’t sure she should let me in because I didn’t have a ration card. She offered to let me in after a few minutes, but I told her I’d just go make it official by getting the ration card first.
So I found the building to get the card, but they told me I couldn’t pick it up until Monday. I won’t be around on Monday, and I told them that, but they said I could pick it up in Yongsan if I wanted. Yongsan AB is closer to Seoul, so if I need anything while I’m in Korea I can go there and hit the BX. That worked out quite nicely, actually.
I walked back to the lodge and caught a nap for a couple hours. I was exhausted because I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before. I needed my rest so I could spend the rest of the afternoon and the evening walking around Songtan, the city outside Osan AB. Osan is the name of a city, but it’s actually further north, toward Seoul. It’s the largest city in the area, so that’s why Osan AB carries the name. I walked out of the lodge’s back door looking for the road to take me to Songtan. I knew the gates were on the east side of post, but I didn’t know the layout of the base very well. The map in the room was terrible and not to scale. I tried to orient myself using the sun, but it was overcast and it was only about 1300, so the sun was pretty much directly overhead. I couldn’t tell which way was north. I had to have a Staff Sergeant point me in the right direction.
I walked to Songtan and wandered about for a while. It appears to be a good-sized town, but that could be deceiving because all the buildings are taller and everything’s so crowded and compact. So, even if the city isn’t that big, there’s a lot of stuff crammed in there. The downtown area is right outside Osan’s main gate, so as soon as you walk out there’s a street lined with bars, restaurants, businesses, souvenir shops, etc… You name it, it’s there. They definitely cater to the military crowd, though. I stopped in a restaurant to have something to eat and asked the woman in front if she liked the red pepper mandu, just to get a feel for what the food might be like. She said she didn’t prefer it because it was too spicy. Well, that peaked my curiosity, so I had to try it. It was really good, and had a kick to it, but it wasn’t terribly hot. I guess I’ll just have to try the food myself to get a feel for what’s good and what’s not. On with my tour, I suppose.
What I thought was cool about this part of town was that the majority of the bars are on the second floor and have open windows that overlook the street. It had a very busy feel to it. From my limited observations, I quickly noticed that if the stairs to the club go down instead of up, you’ll be confronted with “juice girls” who lure you in for your money ($200, by the way). I had a drink and made a hasty retreat.
While wandering around, I talked to as many different people as I could, or felt comfortable with, and ended up talking to a shop owner for about half an hour. He and his wife owned an art shop and had lots of prints and paintings available. He mentioned that he’d lived in northern Korea before the war and that he was over 70 years old. I couldn’t tell; he didn’t look more than 50 or 60. I spoke in Korean as much as I could, but his English was much better than my Korean, so English dominated the conversation. As I wandered around his shop, I found a couple paintings in particular that I really liked, but they were too expensive. $300 for the one I wanted. The owner dropped the price to $250 for me, but I still didn’t think I needed to spend that much just yet. The artwork looked like Chinese art, with a few differences, so I had to ask if it was indeed Korean. He mentioned that it was and that the artist lived in Seoul. Maybe when I go up that way I’ll find some more that I like…but I doubt it will be any cheaper.
I wandered down another side street and found a bookstore. I can’t read well enough to get a storybook, but I ended up buying a history book on the flow of culture in Korea. The writing style is a little more formal, without the idioms, abbreviations, and slang, so while I’ll still have some difficulty reading it, I can probably get it done (with assistance from the dictionary, obviously). After speaking to the bookstore owner for a while, he invited me out to the bar for a drink after he got off work. He mentioned that his son was attending school at Korea University, too, and he wanted to try to get his son out with us if he could. He closed his shop at 2200, and it was only 2030, so I found other things to do until I could meet him at the place he described to me near the main gate.
I wandered by another store as everyone was closing down for the night and spoke with the owner for a while. We talked about the subways in Seoul, among other things, and he told me that the subway comes all the way out to Songtan. I just found my way to Korea University without paying $100 for a taxi and without waiting for a bus. He gave me a subway map and we worked out the best way to get there. I marked the two transfer points I’d need to stop at and thanked him for his help.
It was dark by this point and most of the shops were starting to close. Walking down another side street, I found a painting leaning against a wall. It was beautiful. The older gentleman that was selling it walked up to me and asked me if I wanted to buy it. Of course, it was $90 and I still wasn’t sure I wanted to pay that much just yet. He didn’t speak much English, so I talked to him a little bit in Korean, but I had difficulty understanding some of what he was saying. I admired the artwork for a little bit and then left. If I have money left at the end of the trip and if I come back to Osan, I’m definitely buying it.
I found a nice little place (up on the second floor) named “Cheers” where I could hang out until 2200. I left Cheers a little while later so I could meet the bookstore owner, Mr. Seok,, at the “Osan Lounge” up the street. When I arrived, he was eating shredded, dried squid, a basket of fried squid, some peanuts, and banana chips with his beer. I wasn’t sure I really wanted to try it, but I’d had calamari before and it wasn’t terrible, so we ended up sharing it. His son didn’t come with him because he wasn’t comfortable trying to speak in English, from what I understand. Anyway, we sat and talked back and forth in Korean and English, though probably more in English, for an hour or two. He’d learned English mostly on his own, though he’d taken some classes in school. It was still broken English, but I got the point. I was just happy that I could get my point across in Korean when I wanted to. It took a little talking around to work stuff out and get the correct idea, but it usually worked out in the end. We had fun, laughed a lot, and had a couple drinks. I think I got better service at the bar since I was with a Korean, too. We argued about the bill, but he insisted on paying because he invited me out. That’s Korean culture. He told me I could pay next time, and I tried to argue that I didn’t know if I would be back to take him out again, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. We left and I wandered around a little more before going to bed.