Landing back in Okinawa was a trip, first of all I was singled out immediately by security and a petite Japanese woman with a submachinegun and hound approached, asking if I could open all my bags for inspection. I gulped, even being as clean as a preachers sheets as I was, there’s always the chance I forgot something illicit in my bag. Thankfully not though. She seemed more surprised than I somehow. Do I give off that vibe? Yes. Yes I do. I suppose I don’t exactly suppress my spirit like most people, now do I?
Exiting the airport was like being in alternate version of Taiwan, though far less populated, cooler, and though the people you see on the street are mostly Chinese tourists, the locals are different from both groups in profound ways. Local Okinawan’s descend from the Ryukyu people who ruled the islands as an independent polity from 1429 to 1879, though prior to their absorption into the Japanese empire they were ruled by both China and Japan as a junior partner.
As one might imagine, being a tiny island nation caught between two major powers will make you nothing if not tactical in your business dealings. One day the flags on the horizon are Japanese, the next they are Chinese, and you, you are whichever one is closest, until one or the other makes it clear that the choice is to be permeant... War follows that “permanent” choice, until the next war makes another solid choice for the people being conquered, which it did with the Americans, and now it belongs to Japan again, and on it goes...
I returned to the same hostel as before, the one with the strange layout and 3 stories, it was there I met a cool young 19 year old Canadian guy names Connor, he wanted to walk the town, so we did. We got to know each other a little and he was very surprised at how close we saw the world, in terms of Anarchy, though he didn’t use that term, to him it was all so obvious. Nations are corrupt because people are. And people are corrupt because... well, we didn’t get that far, religion wasn’t his favorite issue, I don’t blame him. We went to an Indian, fast-food place, one of the few that serves a vegan dish.
Back at the hostel I ran into a man Wayne who was using a laptop pc that looks like it belongs in the early 2000’s, a very popular unit than many Japanese people use, the outer shell has remained the same for over 20 years while the internals changed with the need, how practical. If only every company was willing to do this. He and I immediately went deep into conspiracies and where the world was headed. He had lived in Russia for many years and told me you could go there and disappear if you wanted, so long as you had no interest in politics. I told his that was not likely.
Another man named Kyle, a pastor whose engaged to his Thai wife who is getting married in Israel next month overheard us and chimed in on Russia, his position was that they were backwards and not truly Christians... He was very interested in talking to me once he asked the opening line.
“What do you do?”
“I’m a moral educator.” I said. His head cocked sideways, eying me as though trying to determine if I was an ordained priest or not. Once it was clear I wasn’t part of the flock he continued.
“What... do you mean?”
“I teach people the difference between right and wrong.”
“You mean Gods law?”
“No. I mean universal mechanics, as long as you aren’t stealing, your able to do what you want.”
He then went deep into the theological aspects of theft against God vs against other mortal beings, he laid out the seven deadly sins which are all theft against God, but no one else, I told him these are vices and not Sins, and that none of them steal from others. He stopped being nice about it and got heavy with his language and energy. So much so he didn’t even let me get a word in edge wise and I rose from my seat, looking at him as though he had just spit in my food, his face contorted, and walked away, his hand reaching out as though to prevent my departure.
I would see Kyle again later and he would apologize to me. He was even more interested in what I was about and asked what I was reading, I told him, “Sacred Mushroom and the Cross,” – by John Marco Allegro. This was all I had in me to say, so I left him with that. Hours later he came up to me in a frenzy, claiming the book was Satanic, inspired by the devil himself. I laughed at him straight in his face.
“Hey man, I haven’t read it all yet myself, I still reserve judgement. It makes total sense to me though, through my first hand experiences with God.” He didn’t like that at all.
“What do you mean?”
“Well, have you ever done DMT?”
“I don’t do drugs, anymore... I mean I experimented back in high school, but those experiences aren’t the same thing as meeting God. Not like Moses and the burning bush...”
“Your friend Moses met God for over 30 minutes and was still himself? Was still able to English, or whatever fucking language they spoke back then? Please. Nobody meets God for even a millisecond and does anything other than bend their knees as far as they’ll go, shaking in their boots.”
“Whatever you experienced wasn’t the same thing as Moses. This book is Satanic brother Daniel.” He said, worry for my soul etched on his face. I looked at him like a child who had just dropped their ice cream in the toilet.
“Congratulations on your engagement Kyle, may God bless you with many children.” I said, and walked away. I could tell by the way his mouth hung open that he had never experienced anything like this before in all his life. As though the Pope himself had invited him to tea, only to let slip that the religion and everything they worked for was a shame.
“Would you care for another cookie my child?” The Pope would ask, a thin smile on his thinning theological lips.
I took a walk on the town, finding a wonderful secondhand store that felt like a shop out of back to the future, as there was a Camel cigarette commercial playing on repeat through an old CRT TV on the wall. I didn’t buy anything but saw so much cool stuff from the 1980’s and 90’s. Old television memorabilia worth hundreds of dollars in the states, and found here for much less. That’s one thing the Japanese did right while every other modern nation went the other way, they held true to physical media. No other nation on earth maintains anything the way the Japanese do.
Coming up next, Tokyo again!