Shove Tuesday AKA Mardi Gras

Sorting By Color  

While I made our traditional pancakes for Shove Tuesday, Bella opted, on her own with no adult prompting, to sort her colored balls, picking out all the pinks ones and packing them into a tube. I know I’m a doting grandmother, however I think this is pretty advanced for a 27-month-year-old. I may follow up on my promise to buy Candyland and play with her.

Last year at Mardi Gras, I was crazily packing before selling our house and moving to Key Biscayne, but in 2018, I was visiting Mary in Pensacola.  If that city weren’t so far from all my family, I would have considered it as a possible retirement place. Small enough to be friendly; large enough to have a Unitarian Universalist congregation, some art and theater, plus it’s close to the beach. And there’s all the lovely knitters at Dixie Knits who gave us the skinny on Pensacola.

Glass Pumpkin Sale. 

In October, as we awaited Bella’s arrival (and Ryan’s from San Diego), Mary and I went to the annual blown-glass pumpkin sale that benefits the local art center. Those in the know lined up early, early, or bought tickets to the gala which gave them preview access the night before and the opportunity to buy one pumpkin. If you’re adding to a collection or want a pumpkin from a specific artist, I’d recommend the gala. We opted to take our chances. After comparing many pumpkins, Mary found one in UM colors, and I managed to resist buying any.

King’s Cake Doughnut 

In February, I returned to Pensacola. We ate King’s cake and doughnuts with purple frosting; we went to the day parade and the slightly more risqué one at night; and we collected beads, so many beads. I felt guilty how many strings of beads we amassed. All that plastic for just a few days of wearing. However, the people of Pensacola have another plan.

Our Loot 

After choosing a few of our favorite strings of beads, we bagged up the rest and carried them to the grocery store to be recycled. Local companies hire people to sort the beads which are sold back to the krewes that create the floats for the parades. Very clever.

A Few of My Favorite Beads  

The Krewes’ Award Party

Do, Wash, Repeat

Maiko Preforming at Naha Main Place  

While the coronavirus leads the headlines, we’ve kept busy with activities and then washed our hands. Saturday we went to Naha Main Place and watched maiko, (apprentice geisha), perform traditional Japanese songs and dances. Many of the mall customers wore masks which Ryan says protects the rest of us from their sneezes. I appreciate their efforts. Some people wore their masks over their nose and mouth, others just their nose or mouth, others under their chins, and the rest some other way, even on their foreheads, I guess as charms to ward off the virus.

Start of the Bike Race  

The next morning we got up early to watch a bike race on Camp Kinser. As I walked to the start, I met Seiko, an Okinawan whose 16-year-old son was racing, and as a typical teen, did not have any interest in his mother fawning over him in front of his buddies. Once the starting gun was fired, (we were on a Marine base, after all), and the racers took off, Seiko took us over to the top of the biggest hill on the course. It was short but steep. Grant and I would be hard pressed to push our bikes up the hill, much less ride it. For the five laps, the front pack rode it with ease. The rest got slower and slower, and I think some questioned their decision to enter the race. Seiko’s son was pleased with his time. 

After seeing my pictures of the maiko, Seiko explained they weren’t an Okinawan tradition, but rather from Tokyo. Okinawa and its nearby islands were populated by Ryukyu, not Japanese. Two different ethnic groups, and the locals are rightly proud of their own culture. Even their Shisa are unique to their islands.

Bella with Shisa  

At the Baseball Game  

Monday we attended the local Chunichi Dragons v Tohoku Rakuten Eagles (Kumejima) baseball game, one of the last of the spring training season. We chose stadium seats, but I sort of wish we had opted for outfield, i.e., sitting on the grass, so our backs would have been to the sun. On the other hand, sitting out there would have included being next to team bands, which played the entire time its team was at bat. Drums, trumpets and dancers singing. There seemed to be team songs which were played over and over, with others thrown in. My favorite was “Happy Birthday” which I think was an uncomplimentary commentary on a call by the umpire. We left after the 7th, so don’t know who won. 

No matter where we went, the majority wore masks. Dang, I wish I had stock in a mask company. Until Ryan tells us differently, we’ll keep doing what we want and keep washing our hands. What else can we do?

Covid-19 Coronavirus

Boring Bella  

On Thursday, Grant woke up with a slight cold. Yesterday I did. Naturally we are now on high alert for anything about the corona virus that is ravaging China and putting the rest of the world in a panic. The big pottery sale where I wanted to look for Shias today has been cancelled, and there is talk of relocating the Tokyo Summer Olympics to another country.

I had hoped that being in Okinawa would give us enough geographic isolation, but because the Diamond Princess, a infected cruise ship, had docked in Naha, there are several cases on the island. Evidently, a pre-symptomatic but sick passenger had been driven around by a local cab driver who is now infected and has passed the disease to his family.

We offered to take Mary and the children back to the US before Ryan left on his 3+ week detachment to the Philippines, but they decided that traveling with a 4-week-old was riskier than staying here. I respect Ryan’s opinion as a doctor and a concerned father. I just don’t like either option.

So we continue our daily routine. We walk around around the neighborhood which gives us exercise, Bella a nap, and Mary a break. We discovered the factory store of a commercial bakery, which means the walks are not a negative calorie event. Twisted cinnamon sticks, curry pockets, and banana bread come home with us.

Feeding Fish Old Bread

A few blocks away, there is the Shisa Waterway, a narrow alley between apartment buildings with bridges over an artificial stream filled with fish, snails, long armed prawns (macrobrachia), and a few crabs.

Photo By Shane Miller

When he was elementary school aged, Patten wanted an aquarium. Rather than buying the same old, same old, our biologist friend Joe convinced him to collect fish from the river behind our house. In the addition to the black gobies, one day he found a macrobrachium in his little fish traps. It lived in the aquarium for several years.

Many of the fenced backyards have gates opening to the parklette and stepping stones across the stream. Like so much of Okinawa, little areas are full of flowering plants which seem to be tended by people living or working nearby. It means there is often a randomness to the landscaping, but I’d think this generates a community and feeling of ownership.

Bella throws in old bread with much glee. I figure inhaling its penicillin mold dust might help us heal.

Thankful

View of Waves From the Balcony

Each evening at dinner, Ryan prompts us to say what we are thankful for. Tonight I was thankful that I wore my down coat today. A front came across the East China Sea early Sunday morning, bringing rain, colder temperatures, and 25mph winds with gusts in the mid 30’s.

Thank goodness we’d gotten back from Kumejima before it arrived. Our ferry ride was delightful, we sat in the sun all by ourselves on the upper deck and looked for whales. I spotted two, and Grant saw another one. For a long while, a brown booby glided along side the boat, I assume riding the air wake.  

Cantadoro  

Now the seas are rough, and waves crash the seawall below the apartment. We tried to visit Zakimi Castle yesterday morning in capris/shorts and tshirts, not realizing the front was about to reach Okinawa. The cold rain changed our minds, so we shopped at the commissary instead, then spent the rest of the day inside. Lunch was at Tacos and Coffee, entertained by a Mexican singer who said, “arigato” after each song. Throughly cross cultural.

Making a Wish  

Today we bundled up and tried again, even though the wind was still blowing like stink. What we would call a fort, Zakimi Castle was built in the 15th century by the local lord, or more accurately, his servants. It was declared a UNESCO World Heritage site in 2000. On our climb to the top of the wall, we passed a bride and groom having pictures taken. A tad chilly to be in a strapless wedding dress. Bella threw a yen into what we assumed was a wishing stone.

Creating a Shisa

Afterwards, we stopped at a nearby shisa workshop where we found a pair that I am seriously considering. They are shaped by hand, not molded. The artist was working on a small shisa amidst lots of 3’ dragons and other fanciful beasts that I cannot imagine having around me. In fact, my hesitancy about buying is not so much the price (¥25,000), but that his shisa are a little scary, especially when the eyes are light against a dark face. Grant liked ones that were glazed a cream color, which made them a little more welcoming. We are going to a pottery show this weekend. Perhaps we will find shisa we like better.

Scary Shisa with My Glasses For Scale

Eating Our Way Around Kume-jima

Sea Grape Seaweed  

Dinner was at Namiji, where the hostess quickly guided us away from the tatami mats and into chairs. Even though they were low, much better for my knees. Grant had the shashimi for one, and I ordered the tempura meal which came with a lot of shashimi so he got a second helping. A couple of bites of raw fish is about all I can manage. The local prawns are served with shells still intact, which the waitress assured me were to be eaten. I crunched my way from the tail but stopped short of the head.

The treat was sea grapes, a seaweed with little bubbles that pops in your mouth with a salty fresh flavor. I can grab a stem of them with chopsticks, dip it in their sauce, and get it into my mouth more than half the time. Practice, practice, practice.

Sunrise at Eef Beach

Today, we got up for the sunrise and had the beach to ourselves. I walked for about 30 minutes, picking up kinds of shells I’d only seen before in stores. Breakfast at the hotel was an American-Japanese fusion of link sausages, roasted potatoes, two small pieces of salted mackerel, Japanese-style omelette (which looked like little blocks of polenta and were slightly sweet), and cooked spinach with sesame seeds. Plus more sea grapes.

Yunguwa’s Kitchen  

Lunch at Yunguwa, the best soba noodle shop on the island, maybe in Okinawa. With only two outdoor tables and six inside ones, we wouldn’t have had a chance to eat there, even in this off-season weekend, without having Mary call to make reservations. We arrived with all our luggage an hour before the restaurant opened, content to sit on a bench and wait, but the owner/cook rushed out and insisted that he take our suitcase so we could walk around and see more of Kume-jima. That gave me time to look for more shells on the beach two blocks away.

Miso with Soba Noodles and Bean Sprouts  

The entire menu is six types of miso soup with noodles. Still full from breakfast, I had a small plain one. Grant ordered a medium-sized extra spicy with bean sprouts, which he manfully tried but failed to finish. One wonders how big the large soups are. All of the ingredients are locally grown. Absolutely delicious however I need a break from miso, no matter how good it is.

Some of My Shells   

I’m starting to taste fish in the back of my throat. My mother told of going with friends to eat in Ybor City, near Tampa, when she was a young woman. She said they would come back recking of garlic and that it seemed to come out their pores. I’m feeling the same, only it’s fish, not garlic. I told Grant that what I wanted for dinner was just a bowl of ice cream. The sweet taste and cold texture was what my mouth was looking for. I had to settle for leftover spaghetti and one of Bella’s little ice cream bars. Ah, perhaps tomorrow the fishy flavor will have dissipated.

Kume-jima

Bento Box for Ferry

We took a three day trip to Kume-jima, an island about 50 kilometers west of Okinawa. On the 3 1/2 hour ferry ride out, I interacted with (thank you, Google Translate) a couple of local biologists who seemed to going out to do an island survey. He was an ardent birder, and she was great at spotting whales. With their help, I saw a brown booby (new to my birding life list, if I kept one) and several whale spouts. We all spotted a sea turtle at the same time.

My first impression of the island was just a lot of sugarcane fields with some mountains in the background, but it has turned out to be a delight. Known for fabulous diving and consequently lots of tourists during the season, I think we are the only visitors on the island this weekend. All the shops are closed. This is not necessarily bad. We have the beach to ourselves. Of course I had to pick up some shells.

Tatami-ishi w/ Me For Scale

The first afternoon we took a free shuttle over to the tatami-ishi, 6-million-year-old lava rocks that cooled in the shape of turtle shells. We waded in the water to see small fish and thin-armed starfish, but decided it was too cold to consider a snorkel trip out to Hatenohana, the long offshore sandbar.

I thought we could take a bus around the island, but when a couple of the hotel staff saw us waiting at the bus stop, they picked us up and delivered us to the silk weaving workshop I wanted to visit.

Tsumugi Pongee Silk

We watched a video explaining the process of raising silk worms, then turning their cocoons into thread. Hard on the larvae, but a beautiful result. If I understand the dyeing process, the warp yarn has the pattern, which require the whole pattern be planned out before weaving.
After a tour with the weavers and spending a lot of time picking out a scarf which I plan to use as a table runner, I gave up on the bus plan and had the saleswoman call us a taxi.

Grant Feeding Reef Fish

What a great idea. Our next goal was the fish pools, where fish are trapped at low tide, so we can see reef fish without getting wet. Our taxi driver stopped at a “combi” (think 7-11), and bought us bread to throw to the fish. Even though he spoke only Japanese, I could understand his bemoaning all the plastic bottles, styrofoam, and other junk that cover the shoreline. There’s no point in picking it up, because the next high tide brings in another load.  

We continued, going to the north shore for the ruins of a 15th century castle and a rock formation where tradition says women pray for children (I didn’t). On to see the sakura, cherry blossoms. The drive was a narrow road, up and over the mountain, with cherry trees on either side of the road, absolutely at the peak of their flowering. Gorgeous. Not another car, no one else around. The taxi meter was ¥6160 for this whole adventure, which we rounded up to ¥7000 since the driver waited for us at each stop. A cheap guided tour.

Mifuga Rock

For lunch, we walked over to another combi, but it only had food to cook, so back to the Family Mart where we’d bought beer yesterday. I opted for a mostly-cabbage salad with hard boiled egg and carrots. Grant found his beloved masubi, rice with a piece of meat wrapped in nori. A beer for him, bottled hot coffee for me, plus what I thought was a roll which turned out to be like a doughnut, and we were set for our picnic at Eff Beach. Only other person there was a man plying a cast net too far away for us to see what he was catching.

Eff (White) Beach

Creative Playtime

Swinging with Grandpa  

We played with Bella on the Camp Foster playground while Remi went to his well-baby checkup. This time she wasn’t interested in swinging because there were two other little girls over at the slides. They slid and slid, climbed up and down, and played hide and seek. A tip: don’t wear Squeakers (sneakers with noisemakers in the soles) if you’re trying to hide from someone. Since the older girl was four and her sister three, counting before seeking was an issue too. One, two, three, six, ten. We laughed and laughed.

Easy and Cheap Educational Equipment  

I am amazed how patient and coordinated this two-year-old is. Probably more patient and perhaps more coordinated than I am at this stage of my life. Mary gave her a bowl of Ford Hook Lima beans, an ice cream scoop and a soup spoon, a muffin tin and a tray. She has played and played, “making soup” and “scooping”, often alone but sometimes with me, moving beans from bowl to tin to tray, via scoop or by dumping. She also has a little broom and dust pan, so once in a while, she and I sweep up any spilled beans.

Sorting By Color  

The other toy I think quite clever is the little colored puffballs and a couple of bright plastic bowls, actually a pink and a green set of doggie bowls. Bella loves to sort the balls by colors, knowing white, yellow, blue, and pink.

Doting Grandparents

Bella Here 

Our mornings start with “Bella here!”, and our granddaughter appears at the end of our bed. She is too short to get up by herself, so Grant gives her a lift, and we snuggle away. Until she decides time’s up, and away she goes.

We are so lucky to spend this time with Bella. When our older granddaughter was about the same age, she and her parents came to live with us. Every morning, she and I would share breakfast, then figure out what we wanted to do that day while everyone else was at work. In the afternoon, we’d have tea together, a tradition we still share.

Ready For Missy Pirate’s 

Even when Clara got older, she and I still ate breakfast together before I took her to daycare. Daycare was just on the other side of New River, so I rode my bike and pulled Clara in a trailer. She called daycare “Missy Pirate’s”, which her mom finally figured out was because there was a pirate cartoon playing on the tv when they visited the first time.

Clara and I ate breakfast and had tea until she was about four. Her dad got a job at Disney World in Orlando, and they moved. Soon we will be living nearby. We won’t have breakfast, but I’m looking forward to afternoon tea and swims in our pool.

Our New House

The Living Room of Our New House

We accepted the sellers’ counteroffer, and assuming the inspection doesn’t come up with a deal-breaker, we’ve bought a house in Windermere. Built in 1957, it is tiny, but the sellers raised the roof about 18” and added a room off the kitchen so it seems larger than others of its vintage. With the huge screened pool area, I think we will have the extra living space we decided our apartment doesn’t have.

Grant and I hemmed and hawed over the price, then offered $675,000 to their asking price of $725,000 and that they throw in the pontoon boat and motor. No go on the boat because it was a 40th birthday present. We agreed on $695,000, which seems crazy, but I’ve looked at enough houses in the area to know if we want to be downtown, it’s what we have to pay.  Plus the house is move-in ready on a dead end street and a canal to the Chain of Lakes. We can buy a boat and/or take the sellers up on their offer of boat rides whenever we want. They bought a house right across the street, big enough for their growing family and directly on the lake.

It is amazing that I can do all the paperwork from here in Okinawa. We’ve e-signed the contract, and I had the earnest money wired from our brokerage account. At the same time, I cannot get my eBird app to work. I can open up the map and drop a pin on my current location, yet when I try to start a new checklist, it can’t reach the server. It’s happy to do it if I use a stateside location but gives an error message for any Japanese site. The yin yang of computers.

Marine Life

Ready to Collect Nematodes 

When he learned we were visiting Okinawa, our nematologist friend Rob said the manatee at the Okinawa Churaumi* Aquarium had interesting lesions with unusual nematodes. Too bad he didn’t have a sample to look at under his microscope. All it took was a scraping of the lesion with a credit card. I could do that. How hard could that be? Turns out the difficult part would be getting permits to do so. Ah well, his Japanese colleague will have to come to the island, but I am ready if need be.

*Chura = beautiful or graceful; umi = ocean

Who Knew?

I also learned that Lost in Translation is more than a film. I have enjoyed several signs in English with odd words or misuse of tenses, but this is my favorite so far. The amazing thing is that I even bothered to read the sign. We saw often manatees from our dock on the New River, so I’ve become blasé about any manatee facts.

Ringside Viewing

The aquarium was extraordinary. In addition to the usual coral reefs and other environs, it boasts the world’s largest tank. Mary knew to get a ringside table where we could watch the fish swim by while eating taco rice balls, corn soup, and melon ice cream float. The whale sharks made the huge manta rays seem small.

Deep Sea Coral Crab

I especially liked the deep sea exhibits that are only possible because scientists have figured how to create the pressure the fish and other animals from those depths need. Giant isopods, soft corals that look like anemones on tall stalks, first ever on display Japanese large eyes (red fish with large eyes),  and other bottom dwellers are all new to me.



We finished our day in the event hall with a LEGO whale shark.

Pieces For Peace LEGO Project

Cherry Blossoms

Back to Ginowan

Today was cherry blossom day, but first we put Grant on the bus back to Ginowan because he forgot to pack his meds. Four days without them seemed just too long. With ¥5,500 in his pocket and the apartment’s location programmed into his phone, he headed south. I cross my finger

Nago Park

First stop on our itinerary was Nago Castle Park. A group of Japanese high school students oohed and aahed over Bella and Remi as we climbed the steps through the rows of cherry trees. At the observation tower, she joined older tourists for their photos. I think they were looking at cherry blossoms then writing haikus about them, if I understood the explanation one of the ladies told me.

British Tea

Lunch was at the hidden British Wine and Tea Room, tucked away down tiny almost-one-lane roads. Mary had thought “hidden” was part of its name, but it’s a description of the location. Quiche, salad, hot Earl Grey tea and a scone for dessert, sitting on a deck overlooking cherry trees. Absolutely delicious. Plus we saw a hawk of some sort. Perhaps a Eurasian kestrel. At the end of March, the tea room is having a concert by an Irish lyre player and a woman singing traditional songs from Osaka. I guess both pentatonic scales. I hope we can make it back.

Mount Yae

Up and down more curvy, narrow roads to get to Mount Yaedake Sakuranomori* Park for more cherry blossoms and the extra treat of huge fruit bats, which explained the netting over the orange trees I saw on the way in.
 
     Pink blooms against gray skies
     Cherry blossoms at their peak
     We stay far too long

Bella tired, and all of us hungry, we go home and eat pasta and meatballs prepared by Mary’s friends to help with the new baby.

* ”Cherry Blossom Woods”

Orchids

Being fourteen hours ahead of Miami, after breakfast we watched Suoerbowl LXIV on our iPad. The only glitch was it kept trying to switch to the AirBnB’s slow WiFi rather than use the unlimited data streaming we have on our new Sprint phone plans. At least the salesman said it was unlimited. After we’d watched Shakira and JLo rock the half time show and the Kansas City Chiefs best the San Francisco Forty-miners 31-20, we headed towards the Dream Center Botanical Gardens.

This is not a quick process. Remi needs a nurse about every hour which includes a diaper change. If we’re lucky we can get him into his car seat before he needs the cycle started again. At the same time, Bella needs to be diapered, dressed, shod, and snacked. We four adults can just about manage this plus make breakfast and do the dishes.

We made it to the Diason (think dollar store) to buy coffee cups and to the Aeon grocery store to pick up takeout for lunch. Remi needed another food/diaper cycle before we could leave the parking lot. Bella wants a snack, Grant sees the restroom. A slow beginning.

Okinawa International Orchid Show Entrance

The orchid-lined arch entryway to the Okinawa International Orchid Show just barely prepared us for the displays of cut flowers, growing plants, table designs, wedding bouquets, flower arrangements, and growers’ booths. In the background were the usual baskets of orchid plants in each of the green houses. Our slow start and my desire to read almost every label resulted in our being the last party through the exhibit, with smiling workers walking behind us, slowly herding us out. We didn’t get to see the plants grown by elementary school children, but I think the staff would have rebelled if we had turned to that display area. Even the parking lot attendants lost enthusiasm as we sat in the car while Mary topped of Remi.

First Impressions, First Cherry Blossoms

Mt Fuji

Back to the domestic terminal by 5:00 AM, retrieved our big suitcase and carryon from the locker, in line before the ticket counter opened. Quickly checked our bags and quickly through security with the only glitch that we both had tweezers in our carryons. Both pairs were examined and returned to us. On to Okinawa.

Tokyo seems full of energy, ready to accomplish something. Okinawa seems a little run down, less excited about life. Faded signs, weeds along the roadside, buildings without paint, yet I didn’t see any closed businesses. Perhaps looking a little seedy is a cultural thing, like their airing out futons on balconies.  Our Moroccan guide said often the Arab homes looked unfinished, yet were opulent on the inside, because they didn’t want their neighbors to feel envy. Perhaps Okinawans agree.

Remi and Bella

Mary and children were at the grocery store when Ryan brought us from the airport to their apartment, which gave us time to unpack before the whirlwind, AKA Isabella, appeared. “Grammy, Grammy, Grammy”. My heart is so filled with this little being. She runs back and forth in the apartment, helping put away groceries or bringing  me a toy, just delighted in the process and that she can do it herself. True joy. Eight-day-old Remi sleeps and eats and has his diapers changed. He is in charge of the first, Mary the second, and Ryan, on two weeks paternity leave, handles all the last.

Mary is magnificent: tandem nursing, cooking dinner, attending to Bella, shopping. I worried she is overextending, but she assures me she is paying attention to herself and her needs. What a powerful woman my daughter is. I am so very lucky to be here and see her in action. How to say I see a lot of me in her without bragging? Yet, I was a powerful women when I was her age. After an easy home birth, Mary developed breathing problems. We rushed her to the hospital, and for the next 10 days, I stood vigil at the neonatal intensive care unit while the doctors treated her symptoms. We didn’t realize she had developed problems latching on while she was there, slurping my pumped breast milk from bottles. After a week at home, she had become dehydrated, and my formerly abundant milk had dried to a trickle. With the help of knowledgeable lactation consultant Christine, and my absolute commitment, we got back on track. Two months of pumping, too much equipment, many tears, but Mary and I succeeded.

Now I am tired. This trip has exhausted me. I need a day to recover. But, wait, there’s more. We are going to see cherry blossoms, today, just as soon as we pack for spending 5 days on the Motobu Peninsula, 2 hours drive north. Mary, having given birth just 8 days ago, assures me she is good to go. So much my daughter.

Todoroki Waterfall

We head north in their 2 little cars to the AirBnB she has rented. Halfway there, we stop at the Todoroki Waterfall Park for our first cherry blossom viewing. Bella runs back and forth on the paths, I just want a bed. Grant and I try canned hot coffee from a vending machine. Even that doesn’t have the energy to jolt my ancient body into awareness. Forget cherry viewing. All I want is a bed. I doze for the rest of the drive and am a zombie through dinner. A shower and bed. Good night.

MIA -> DFW -> NRT -> HND -> OKA

So close. We almost made the trip from Key Biscayne to Okinawa without incident. But the bus from Narita airport in Tokyo to Haneda got bogged down in rush hour traffic, and we missed our last flight. When the bus finally got to the airport, we grabbed our backpacks, carryons, and big suitcase, and speed walked as fast as we could to the Japan Airlines security entrance. We had been traveling 25 hours. An hour later and after much conferring among 4 JAL employees with their computers confirmed there were no more flights to Okinawa tonight. We are booked on a 6:15 AM flight tomorrow. I only slightly wept.

As we waited for our new tickets to be issued, the domestic terminal began to close. I knew it was a bad sign when the security employees turned in their badges, bowed to their supervisor, and left. The shops closed their doors. Even the construction workers walked past on their way out. Since we could not spend the night there, we decamped to the international terminal, open 24/7 and a 10-minute shuttle bus ride away.

We have opted to spend the night here rather than trying to find a hotel and be back to the airport by 5:00 tomorrow morning. Sleeping on airport seats seem easier than trying to find a taxi at 4:00 AM.

Joining Other Airport Campers 

Now it’s 3:00 AM, and after dozing on and off on a fairly comfortable bench near the observation deck, I am buzzed with jet lag. In the background a young woman’s voice gives a continuous announcement to be careful on the escalator. Sounding like “very, very bad, very, very bad”, the recorded voice echoes throughout the terminal. Maintenance has begun vacuuming so nap time is over.

Almost everyone is wearing face masks, trying to avoid the coronavirus coming out of China. Flights and tours are cancelled. World leaders pontificating. Hospitals gearing up. Patten’s friend Jack is back in Fort Lauderdale, which I am sure makes his mother very happy. He is sending boxes of masks to his coworkers in China. We remain unmasked, relying on others not to spread disease.