June 3, I arrived in Tokyo after a 11 hour plane flight. Took a bus ride to another airport in Tokyo, where I used another currency for the first time- yen! Proudly paid 300 yen for the bus ride around the outskirts of Tokyo, although the only famous landmark I saw was Tokyo Disney. The flight to Okinawa was two and a half hours and I fell asleep before we passed over the city lights. While waiting in the airport, I felt my first experience of culture shock. Immediately as I set foot out of the doors of the airport in Naha, Okinawa, I understood where vets of the island meant by constant humidity. The air felt like a suffocating blanket mixed with a light mist. Still tired and groggy from the 13 hours of flying, I rode another bus ride, however, this time through the city of Naha. The only lights that flashed at 2 a.m. in Naha, were the bright neon lights of the casinos. Once past Naha, the bus abruptly stopped inside the gates of Camp Foster. With passport and permission permit of occupucy in hand, all the Camp Adventure uniformed people overloaded the small convient store called the Shoppette. Quipped only with a basic idea of what we needed and what our living facilities entailed-mini fridge, bunk bed, microwave, and a claset, we opened the door with the customary ding and searched for the cheapest breakfast. For me that was a carton of skim milk and two gallons of water. Fifteen minutes later, we arrived at the boring beige building. The front two doors framed by two tall palm trees- something different for a girl born and raised in Iowa. We walked up the two flight of stairs to floor two to find our new home for the next two and a half months. AFter we unlocked teh door, we found a shrinked version of a dorm room- one with broken blinds and a brown rug that tripped you 75% of the time. The next orning, I woke up from a deep sleep from the bright light filtrating through the inefficient shades. Without an id to provide access to live on the base and its ammenities- commissary, px, library, gym, or most importantly to return back into the gates once you have left the land of beige buildings, uniforms, and salutes, and entered a foreign land-literally. Since we didn't have the golden ticket or more accurately the authorized white id card with the unflattering picture. Before our four hour wait for the computer and the military man behind it, we met with the entire Camp Adventure staff for the first time. After a brief awkward meoment that comes with meeting people for the first time that you will be working and living with for a long time. Everyone introduced their name, school,k and major. I met more than 60 counselors and relized I only retained two new names and a few faces. The leaders forced us to embarrass ourselves by showing our "character" and perform a dance move while shouting our name to the group, each additional person in line had to remember all the names in from t of tehm, Julie, Terri, Stephanie, disco, twist, spin, booty shake. As gracefully as I could manage with my 14 years of dance experience, I extended my arms and quickly (to get the eyes off of me) spun around as I shouted "Anna." Two long hours passed and we took turns leading camp songs and messing them up- "Can you iggle, can you wiggle and so on- until it was finally lunch break. We were released and then we took our passports and permits to get Subway. Munching on my toasted Chicken breast sandwich with "the works" minus jalenpenos. I felt like I was back in the states. After that moment, I swore to myself to never return back to Subway unless I had no rights or choice. Unfortantly, four days later I was forced to eat a six inch or go hungry. The next day on Tuesday, with my new id card in mand, I walked happily out the gate and into Japan. I was greeted with Jpanese signs everywhere, if there was English, teh words were listed second underneath the Japanese characters. Never having left the U.S., seeing English as a second language if seeing it at all, was something new to me. Crossing traffic, wandering through small allies, jumping scared from barking dogs, we walked until we saw the clear blue of teh ocean. At that moment, I was reminded again why I chose Okinawa over Italy, Germany, and mainland Japan. A block further, my eves landed on the white (imported) sands of the beach. More to Continue.
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