When the Zoo became an Aquarium with an Aquarium

We started late. We stopped for medicine. We sat in a tiny bit of traffic and then we arrived. Paid our $54, eyed the clouds and headed in. It was 3:15. "Ok," we thought. "2 hours and 45 min is feasible."

Tigers. 4 romping tigers. Beautiful, mischievous and effing big. We'll come back to that. Again, iPhone shots, so not very good.

Komodo dragon. The keeper came up with a plastic bag and banged on the glass to call him to the windowed mess hall. I thought he would be feasting on vegetarian fare, purple cabbage and some other tasty ruffage. I have never been so wrong in all my life. Dinner was sopping wet, dead rats. He scarfed them down in a gulp each as we onlooking kids and adults grimaced with fascination.

Then, the rain came. So, we returned to the tigers where roofing shielded us. Big Mama lay around and her boys came over for licks and snuggles and the occasional rough house. Such fun. But the clock was ticking and we wanted to dash over to see the lions.

Enroute the rain quickened and the lions were gone from their savannah spot when we arrived. We decided to wait it out under the nice roof provided. Thunder, lightening, wind, alarms, sirens, offers of evacuation all made their way to our vicinity. We laughed and kept saying it was par for this strangely unpredictable trip's course of expectations deferred.

Lex needed constant hugs and reassurance. Baby bear doesn't like a good storm. Bri and I smiled. He was howling and hooting like Lieutenant Dan in Forest Gump and I was laughing. Zee was just hanging but enjoyed some hugs, too.

Did I mention no lions? Well, wait, there was a moment where a female lion darted out, then had one of those, "Oh shit, what was I thinking" moments just before turning around and high tailing it back from whence she came.

And who could forget the silhouette of a giraffe making it's way to shelter in the adjacent area? Yeah! We saw a giraffe, too! Kind of.

Inventory had us at 4ish animals and 2 hours left. Scheiße. OK, time to make another run for it with a stop at le toilet. Power outages really should not come when one is using a public toilet. Moving on to the Mammoth's non-extinct friends, the Ellies.

The toilets actually smelled better than this place, but were not nearly as fascinating as watching how elephants use their trunks! I could spend a day just observing the elephant trunk and still think I had only scratched the surface of what those things are capable of. It made me rethink how cool our arms are. Imagine your nose doing all that your arms do and then some. Wicked cool.

The rain seemed to be letting up (and my nose was burning), so we made a dash for the Tropical Kingdom. We saw a Silverback!!! Too dark to get him on film, but his regal demeanor gained my respect. His underlings were like college students wearing boxers down campus walk. They didn't give a crap. I think one may have scratched his privates just to make a point while gnawing on a carrot. Silver boy, on the other hand, made me afraid of the cabbage in his hand. Commanding.

Lady Lemur and Gentleman Gibbon were also on hand. I felt for all of them being in cages and cursed myself a little for paying to support their caging. Rationalized I was paying for their nice treatment. Oh what the mind is capable of.

We met a zoo worker who threatened to cut our visit short. 1 hour and $50+ didn't make us happy. We said so. She was stressed and made a mistake. Bri, being Bri, inquired if all the animals were OK and cherried that top off with, "How are you holding up?" She was putty in our hands and waved us on to have a great last hour. Domou. Domou.

We were wet and kind of dirty...

but look at those faces.

And these totally whacky creatures that, I think, handed God his nomination for "Most Creative".

And it got trippy.

Undersea life if one psychedelic place, man. And yet, it can also be, well, I have to admit that a few times I actually thought, "Mmm, that looks delicious." Japanese much?

I learned that sea horses anchor themselves with their tails...

And penguins pose for pictures...

This is the part where children learn that nothing in life is free or easy. Popular Polar Bear spent five minutes trying to fish his blue toy out of the water without actually getting wet.

A few close calls as he teetered on the shore, but he finally got his blue bobble and headed to where his friend was lazing.

And then there was this persistent otter who spent several minutes upside down in the water, smashing an unopened shell on the wall of his enclosure. He was up. He was down. He laid back and flipped around. The crowd cheered as he fought to make that clam his dinner spot.

Shaaaaaaaaark!!!!!!

Screaming sea lions. No really. The Mom was all, "Stay in the shelteeer!" and the kids were like, "Catch us if you can!" And then some Naa-nanny-boo-boo's were heard as Mom rolled her eyes and cursed her husband for what "his" children were doing.

The lovely people I get to call family. Brother Bri, niece Lex and nephew Zee. I wish K had been there with us, but maybe she was OK back home with her James Patterson books :-D

A frequently spotted creature, the Grizzly...

Oh, wait, no. That's Uncle Butt teaching Zee that it is not a good idea to mess with bears.

And this phenomenal creature known as the driving teenager.

She is also known to look like this...

But is most lovely when like this and with her adorably cute brother Zee.

Love you PA crew! Next time, leave me home and the 4 of you head to Pittsburgh together, alright? Well, if Bri has managed to recover from the Brittany Spears traffic and missed turn from a creature sometimes known as Poor Navigatinus (aka, me).

Utah!

Utah. Here it is in 20 pictures. Quality is pish, all taken from my iPhone 3GS. I didn't bring my good camera. Blasted!

Yet, I think you will see the varied landscapes, textures and colors of this supremely stereotyped state of Mormons. I met a few and everyone was nice. All I care about though is that I want to go back and take more pictures with a better camera. So. much. more. to. see.

Buffalo.

Sniff. Sniff.

Near Dad's place.

Fish Lake, UT

Also at Fish Lake, A NATURAL RIVER! Never seen one of those in Japan (not totally true, but I can count on one hand how many I have seen in concrete Japan).

Landscape of Capitol Reef National Park, reflected in the window of an old Mormon school from the 1800s.

Petroglyphs. Look in the V above the rocks on the lower half of the picture.

Driving through the park.

Daddy in the driver's seat on our way home from Capitol Reef Park near his home in Teasdale.

Next day, heading to Bryce Canyon we stopped many times to look around. Here are lizard prints. They were everywhere.

This part of UT is a lot less rich in color. It is like the Goth side of the state. The black streaks at the top of the ridges are coal. Cool.

Bryce Canyon National Park

Siblings. What a nice bonding time this trip was for us. Just the three of us and our Dad. It was good to see G as he has matured. We saw some of our side of the family in him and that was really exciting. I really felt like his big sis!

Hoodoos!

Evidence of rain, wind and snowmelt. Sweet.

Having a wee. Bare with.. bare with...

Chillin'.

Ride home from Bryce.

Back to Capitol Reef for a hike. Nay, G and I got caught in a shit rain storm and rivers were cropping up here and there. We lost the trail a few times, but we pulled through, if not covered in red mud. G was very happy he didn't cry. I was proud of all of us.

Nay and G competing to see who could get the most points hitting different spots on the rock: 5, 10, 15 points. Nay won.

We did several of these rock throwing competitions, as well as some games of pickle ball and a whole lot of reading of the Michael Phelps book, since G is a potential Olympic-eyed swimmer.

I am so glad I finally went to see where my Daddy lives. I missed it when I left. Dad knows wonderful people and the surroundings are unmistakable. Utah is a statement piece. Go West!

The visit gets a 9 out of 10 for me. The loss of one point is because so much of life in America involves riding in cars. I suck at cars. Maybe that is why I live in Japan?

Check back in a few for the Pittsburgh Zoo with Bri and kids! What an adventure that was!

Music Scene

Ridiculously wonderful progressive bluegrass is coming out of Kyoto, Japan, folks! I am digging very much a band called Pirates Canoe. I also happen to know the lead singer, Reika.

I have never reviewed a band before, but I figure why not give it a try.

Reika Hunt (first mate) has a sweet whispy voice that harmonized beautifully with all voices out of their canoe. And the woman can write a song!

Sara Kohno (Captain) and Mandolin player has this amazing tone to her voice. I think it's like chocolate. Rich and creamy, which mixes nicely with the sweetness of Reika's voice. And um, the Mandolin. Seriously!? Crisp rhythms and a sound that makes your eyebrows go up and down as it hits its range of notes.

The fiddle player, Kanako Keyaki (quartermaster) shreds. Agile. Her playing reminds me why violins (yes, violins are fiddles) and the human voice are most alike but also what makes them different. They can be shrill, smooth and rich, strings vibrating like our own vocal chords (cool!); but violins can harmonize with themselves, unlike our own voices!

The drummer, Takashi Yoshioka (boatswain) has sense. That's all you can say of a man who plays in a top hat, makes noises with god knows what and makes it just plain fun to watch him play. His personality shines from the back and his harmonies add a nice touch when he sings.

The bassist looks like a terribly laid back but fun looking dude, who keeps the core vibrating nicely. Bass is perhaps my favorite instrument to hear. It strikes my core and I find it terribly sexy. Jun Taniguchi (rum master) doesn't disappoint with his plucking, slapping, tapping and thumping.

And finally, Kazuhiko Iwaki (sailing master), plays the resophonic guitar and makes no sense to me... how does he not live in Appalachia or Nashville? Really impressive to me and I want to hear more! He slides and picks the strings up and down on his knee, left fingers steel wrapped and right wrapped in plucking picks. A natural.

Pirate's Canoe use silence as well as they use melodic, dissonant and harmonic sound and it feels good to hear them. They can be etherial, strange, silly, frank and just darn pretty. Their new CD has been on repeat here a lot lately and I have plans to see quite a bit of them live in the future. Come join me!

Oh, and they have a great look, too. Retro. Casual. Cool.

(Pirates Canoe)

PS- I am planning to go see another band I learned about at the last Pirates' live called (I think) Yoshida Shonen and Mikazuki Soup. Guitar, drums, upright bass, piano, vocals and a horn! The horn player is very pretty. I love how she holds her horn when she is not playing it and her mouth is pretty (I know that sounds weird, but she has a pretty mouth). Yoshida Shonen is a nutter and I loved watching him rock out! They are funky, experimental and funny! Not rock, but they Rock! Rock! July 8th around Shijo!

(Pirates Canoe with Yoshida Shonen and Mikazuki Soup)

The Newest Addition...

On a lighter note, I would like to introduce you to our first blossom of the year. This hibiscus is probably our 4th one, but also the one we have managed to keep alive the longest. We love her.

After snapping this lovely, we headed out to spend the day walking in Gion. We ventured into a little hole in the wall for lunch where we had cold yuba and a lovely teishoku (set) lunch. It tasted like grandma's cookin', so you know we were alright!

I bought a gorgeous clothe at RAAK, which I can tie into various style bags. Can't wait to bust it out with a black dress on girl's night. Perhaps next Saturday!?

We walked to Sanjo and meandered into a plant shop, where we met the newest addition to our decor. She is perfect and I will love her as long as she will have us!

My heart was slightly broken when I found out this beauty was sold...

We'll be back to check for more like her. Her shape is perfect for our window wall nook. Fingers crossed we find one like her before too long.

Part 2: No shame!

It took me a while to just come out with it here. I tried last post, but I couldn't do it yet. Ah well, I am finally ready to say that in 4 weeks, I heard both "Congratulations" and "Well, humans are terrible breeders."

Yes, the weekend I was to run my first 5K as an adult was the weekend that I miscarried my first pregnancy. A goal and dream deferred.

That is how I describe it, or perhaps I should say, how my friend R stated it. With such a resounding "Uh-huh" in fact, that I came to realize it was the dream that I was mourning. We had tried before to no avail and then it happened, and then, it didn't. It is like when you listen to a song and you think, "Here. Here it is going to break open and split my head and heart in half," but instead it just keeps building until you dance by the radio and accidentally unplug it as you trip forward on the chord. No resolve to the crescendo! Or... maybe it is more like sitting in the front car of a roller coaster and after the long climb up the massive peak, just as you reach the top, the cars roll backwards and you never fall into the oblivion of recklessly abandoned screams and the rush of what is one hell of a drop into the unknown! Yeah, more like that, I think.

At first, I was just so fucking disappointed and sad. I spent days feeling the life run out of me. I cried when I talked about it and was, for the first time in my life, leery to actually speak about something personal. It felt like a secret I had to keep. I stayed inside, drank a lot of fluids, mostly tea and water and then I got a pain in my side.

I called the doctor who had done my ultrasounds and told me that I would likely miscarry when I showed up for a weekly check with spotting. She suspected not only because of the spotting but also because upon looking, the gestational sac was small for what should have been 7 weeks and there was no heartbeat. The latter was so sad to not see flicker on the screen. I had been counting down, asking friends, keeping track of its development on the umteen websites with 3D images and descriptions of what was happening inside me.

I'll pause here, like I often did in the few weeks that I knew, to say that I knew there was a chance it wouldn't go to term. I kept telling myself not to get too excited. But I guess that is like telling a 5 year old kid not to get too excited about Disney World for Spring Break. A very difficult sale.

Doctor T told me to go to the hospital. I went and my new Doc, a woman from China, said she would do a DNC the next morning because she suspected that I had an infection. We went home. I took some antibiotics with some soup and went to bed. The next thing I knew it was 2 a.m. and I was vomiting. We called the hospital and went in.

As soon as we got there I tossed my cookies but also instantly felt better. They put me in a bed and I went to sleep for a little bit. Around 6 a.m. they put a crazy old woman in the bed next to me. They they gave her a "kancho" (supository) with such vividly descriptive commentary at massive volume because of the woman's craziness and age, that all I could do was wince and laugh quietly. What a way to wake up!

Hours past as I slept and listened to things around me. The crazy lady had been moved soon after whatever they put in her bum came out. She called the nurses repeatedly after only 3 minutes of being in her bed, finally she admitted she was lonely and so they put her in a more lively section. In her place came a Chinese woman in labor, accompanied by her mother. I had no clue what they were saying, but listening to a mother and daughter talk is universal and it made me warm. I wished I had my Mom.

Between her contractions my procedure was done, and when I woke, she was in lots of pain and asking them to just cut her open. The nurses just kept saying it would be far worse pain after a cesarian delivery and to just do her best to bare it. It would all be over soon. I was discharged before she started pushing, but I think she was nearly there. I thought of her often in the days following, wondering how she was getting on as a new mom. I wondered how I was going to get on as a new me, who had nothing to show for the inner change she went through. I started doing inventory.

One of the things that really helped me were the messages and gestures of love from those around me. I felt so loved, that I was overflowing and wondered how I could think something had been lost. And yet, I also felt like the biggest god damned failure! I had failed at something I was supposedly biologically hardwired to do! Not only that, but I failed, something I just don't do well. Bring on the shame.

Entering the shame cycle is like walking into traffic with a blindfold. You have no clue where anything is coming from, though you kind of hear it coming, as the voice gets a bit louder in your head and then BOOM! What made it worse is that the more people knew, the more people knew. I felt completely out of control. Until I owned it.

I realized that by thinking I could control who knew and not talking about it like I would normally with something that happened to me, I was digging myself into a hole. A very lonely hole. And once I started to open up, the stories came a floodin' in. Many prefaced with, "I wouldn't normally talk about this, but since you are being so open about it..." And that is when I realize how utterly not alone I was and how shame is self-inflicted when one assumes that others would think of a miscarriage as a failure and not a very human experience. For every woman who experiences a miscarriage, which is 25%, there is a man who experienced it with her. Which means, something like 50% of all people who try to have a baby get it. And yet, it is not something people talk about? Couples suffer the loss all the time. Anyone else wonder WTF?

I think TV shows need to explore miscarriage with their characters more. It's always about having babies and deciding to keep them or not. Or it's about kidnapping. What about dealing with something that happens far more than kidnapping and is such an emotional treasure trove you could write half a seasons about it!? I wouldn't base a show on it, but come on, no one gets over it like they do a cold. Give the process some respect and knock some socks off. Get an Emmy or whatever the TV award is. Seriously! NBC, ABC, whateverBC, make this happen!

To wrap up here, first, and most importantly, I learned how much love I have in my life. I realized just how much of an amazing support network I have. I have owned my experience and will talk about it anytime. I am not a failure nor am I a shameful loser. And to reiterate, I don't need a nose job. Finally, TV writers need to do a better job at handling the topic. They just do. Because too many women suffer shame, not realizing how common and un-alone they are.