"Get your little ass back to the penitentiary, motherfucker. You know what you did last time you was here."

Last Gig in Okinawa

The second and last day in Okinawa dawned and I had absolutely no idea what to do. It was warm, naturally, but the sky was cloudy so going to the beach did not really come up as an option. Alas, Tim had come up with a solution while I was enjoying oversleeping so I was forced to get up. Our destination was Cape Manza, a scenic coastal area located in the same region, pretty close to our cottage. I didn’t really know what to expect besides seeing a cliff, but soon it became clear that the area is being fully exploited for touristic purposes. Albeit it was low-season, there were a few buses full of Chinese tourists ready to conquer Manza. In front of the actual path that led to the edge were several stalls of useless stalls selling traditional Okinawan Hawaii shirts and other stuff that had close to nothing to do with anything. Behind the vending booths we could perceive two paths leading towards the sea. There were no signs to tell us which path to take to enjoy the cape but apparently we took the “ignorant gaijin path” because everyone else was walking in the opposite direction.

It's difficult to stand on both feet, isn't it

One thing that immediately surprised all of us was the lack of fences over the clearly dangerous edges of the cliff. Back at home, whether it had been the US and A, Germany or Finland, such a place would have been heavily fenced at least 15 meters back from the border and there would have been dozens of guards patrolling to make sure nobody does anything stupid. In Okinawa though, it would only have been a matter of a quick leap if someone wanted to end their life quickly and painlessly. Actually, even without that grotesque motivation, one misstep in the wrong place and one could have found himself pushing up the daisies. The scenery was great though, and was worth the risk of venturing closer to the edge than my doctor advised me to.

The Elephant's Trump

Dozens of pictures and a few stupid jokes later we were back at the place the path was supposed to start, the tourist shops. In the middle of all the cheap tourist crap everyone was selling I was able to locate something I had long had the conviction of trying in Okinawa…

Sata Andagi

Saataa Andaagii! Saataa Andaagii!

I had already tasted a few pseudo-andagis during the Gaidaisai but this was the real thing. Essentially it was a donut. It provided me some comfort when our departure from Manza was delayed due to Sayumi receiving important phone calls from different moving companies. There was a cartoony map of the On’na region standing right next to the parking lot and from the information presented to us we were able to effectively choose the next place we wanted to visit.


Ryukyu-mura or Ryukyu village was a re-creation of a traditional old fashioned Okinawan village. Outside the actual village was a small restaurant, some stage performances of traditional Ryukyuan music and dance as well as a tourist shop. I’ll come back to the shop later. We were intrigued by the news that there were snake vs. mongoose shows organized inside the village around every one and a half hours. No, actual animals were not killed or harmed in the process, how the hell could they even afford that six times a day with hardly any spectators. All they did was show us the animals, explain some of their characteristics in Japanese and show a “beautiful” 3D movie about a mongoose killing a snake. Now I’ve driven myself into an anachronical cul-de-sac so I’ll jump back to the point where we entered the village. With blogging everything is possible.

Aika ottaa lääkkeet.

We drove to have lunch at Okinawa Malibu Beach before going in because we had a bit of time before the next snake show. Nothing really worth mentioning about that, but I like to write about eating and engrish so you’ll just have to bear with me.

Bah Humbug

Back at the village we received a free sugarcane drink coupon along with the tickets to the inner village and the snake show. Also, the first thing to do when being retarded is to take a jumping picture with a 10-second timer. It took us about five tries to get this right and it’s still not right. We moved on to get our free drinks before entering the snake show room. The room was covered in meticulously bad straight-from-babelfish translations about something I was not able to decipher. The show itself consisted of watching two snakes and a mongoose in separate glass cages trying their hardest to get out, in vain, while listening to a knowledgeable jii-san babble in Japanese for half an hour. It was a mind-numbing experience but an experience nevertheless. Afterwards we were given free samples of ground snake and habushu, the latter of which I bought a bottle to take home. I didn’t have the monetary resources to buy a large bottle with a snake still residing inside though, so my notoriety took a blow.

Tonde tonde tonde!

We finished the tour of the village quickly and I bought a Ryukyu style jinbei with a scary shiisaa face on the back as well as a screen-cleaning yamamayaa plushie for my keitai in the tourist shop. The next sentence will be without meaning so you have the time to click all the links and wonder what in the world I’m talking about. Without meaning, there is, the following sentence therefore all links are sounded the dust, there is a time when you think that I have expressed in doubt. That was poetic.

Iriomote wildcat on a phone

Anyhow, after being done with the village the sun was still up and we had time to find ourselves a beach. We drove to the Moon Beach Resort’s parking lot and walked in through the entrance that we later realized must have been for employees only. The beach itself was only for paying customers but nobody ever said anything so I guess we pulled off a proper Gaijin Smash by mistake. We played beach ultimate for a while before returning to the hood where we were finally able to have dinner at our neighborhood soba restaurant.

Spam Spam Spam Lovely Spam! Wonderful Spam!

I don’t understand how the Okinawans have been able to implement Spam (introduced by the American occupation after WWII) into their traditional cuisine, but it worked relatively well with the Yasai Champuru and Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, Spam, baked beans, Spam, Spam, Spam and Spam Ryan and I ate for dinner. The owner lady was very nice and asked us if we can handle Okinawan food so I politely told her to keep the goya as far from us as humanly possible. As for evening plans, our flight was early in the morning so there was no time frame for a drinking party or anything else time consuming. We packed our items and cleaned the place in preparation and enjoyed Japanese TV-shows for the rest of the evening.

In theory, the trip was over. That did not restrict me from buying a Goya Dry for an astronomical price at the airport the following morning to see if they can ruin a beer with goya. Although I was sceptical about the taste, it was fine. More than fine. The Goya Dry was a very good brew and now I’ll need to go out of my way to try to find some in mainland Japan. Thus concludes the Okinawa chapter and the general public might have to wait a couple months for new entries as laziness kicks in again. (Turns out it was a couple of years)

The last candle



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