Before the main course, we feasted on spicy calamari rings, dipped in warm, homemade marinara, I’d created myself. I never imagined myself standing in the kitchen, dancing to Persian music with my prince, feasting on fresh calamari, in the middle of a tropical, Japanese island paradise. Nasser slipped in and out of the kitchen snagging a morsel of calamari as he returned to the balcony to grill fillet mignon and fresh vegetables. Nasser has broadened my horizons: opened my appetite to succulent liver, gizzards and hearts flavored with turmeric, onions, garlic and olive oil, fresh baked salmon smothered with milt and shitake mushrooms, or grilled button mushrooms stuffed with sausage. My eyes have been opened, as has my palate, but mostly my heart. My life is full of happy moments and fascinating experiences.
Earlier in the day, I visited Shuri castle and the royal tombs as well as the holiest place of worship in Okinawa with my son, Hunter. We traipsed up the side of the mountain on an ancient stone path, to see a beautifully lit cavern, over-looking the ocean and the countryside. Two stalactites dripped into small stone pots; Hunter slipped his fingers into the clear water, which had been considered holy in ancient times. Hunter remarked that the enchanted place, with its cascading greenery and intricate root systems, reminded him of Fern Gully. The atmosphere exuded peace. I had a wonderful time with Hunter. I wished Nasser could see what I had seen, but he had given me this special time to share with my son. We had already shared many precious moments in this wondrous place. We had even visited an untouched beach, just as I had with Hunter today. How sweet to share these experiences with each of them. Today, my feet sank in the soft, moist sand as I sauntered down the beach after Hunter. Then, the surface of my boots scraped against the sharp coral stone and slipped on the green slimy moss. Hunter remarked, “Mom, you can’t come around here, it’s only for boys”, he teased. He correctly deduced I could not mount the dangerous, sharply inclined coral island, but I did navigate the less treacherous periphery and joined him round the other side (he had mounted the island and slipped through the opening in the center, whereas I had gone around). The lilt in his voice belied his genuine surprise, “How did you get here?” Never underestimate the power of a middle aged woman challenged by her strong, young adult son. The satisfaction that spread across my lips may have been lost on him as I was out of his line of sight, but I savored the moment, then slipped back around the sharp, rocky face and met him back on the other side. He collected beautiful coral specimens to create treasures for his friends as I plucked up brilliant pieces of sea glass, surfaces rubbed smooth by the gritty surface of the ocean floor. The sea mist played with my hair and kissed my skin. A brilliant blue Ryukyu sparrow played on the sea wall nearby. Though I had slipped down the concrete wall to the beach, my sore shoulder hindered me from mounting it to return to the car; so, we made our way up the beach to a concrete stair way, collecting treasures along the way. What a delightful time I shared with my sweet son.
Back at home, we joined to collectively create a fabulous dinner. I made the salad: fresh, bright greens, crisply baked pecans, slivers of yellow, red and orange bell pepper, bright red tomatoes, shiny black olives, topped off with tiny, deep red, sweet and sour zerescht that Nasser prepared for me. He and Hunter grilled fish, chicken wings, eggplant, okra, veggie patties for Hunter, and mushrooms stuffed with spiced tofu. We enjoyed a sweet Riesling with our neighbor, Loryn, who’d joined us. Later, Hunter and I would walk her to her friend’s house. The brisk walk in the fresh, cool Okinawan air awakened me. Everyone went to bed as I put away the food and washed the dishes…a rarity. Hunter, Nasser and I usually argue over who “gets” to do the dishes. How different. How refreshing, from what I hear of many other families. But my family is not typical… It is unusual, beautiful…abundantly lovely.
How precious to share these moments from such an extraordinary place, this island paradise. We have traipsed around, visiting farmer’s markets, peaceful remote villages, desolate beaches. We have danced at midnight, stopped off at noodle shops, treasure stores, sacred temples, botanical gardens. Life is beautiful beyond imagination and this place is ethereal. I wish all could see what I have beheld with my eyes, held what I have with my hands, felt and experienced what I have.
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