The Non-Definitive Guide To Life

If you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with rain" - Dolly Parton

Posts for TRAVEL Category

UT: VIP Access to Petroglyphs

ADVENTURES, TRAVEL - December 2, 2016

We seriously had VIP Access to some of the best petroglyphs in Utah, along with the amazing views of Natural Bridges.

I have a friend who is a park ranger. She is still at the start of her career, so she will jump from site to site until finding a permanent position. But the year Dan and I were driving around the country, she was working at Natural Bridges National Monument. I’d never heard of the place, but as I love nature and free lodging, we decided to spend a few nights with her.

Hiking is fun, but hiking with a park ranger is a flipping bad ass adventure! Without my friend, we would have hiked around the park following designated trails and such, seeing the sites but never going deep in the canyons. With my friend, we were opened up to a whole new world of Ancient Puebloans architecture and petroglyphs. My imagination swirls drawing up scenes of the Puebloan people carving their stories into the stone, messages for their community. We picked up two small books on deciphering the symbols, that I have tucked away somewhere, so well hidden I’m not sure where they are located. Perhaps I should have made a petroglyph map to them on my bedroom wall. (oh, the jokes!)

We seriously had VIP Access to some of the best petroglyphs in Utah, along with the amazing views of Natural Bridges. I’d love to return and explore more, this time in better shape. When we went I was way less fit than I am now. When I bemoaned I was in pain, my park ranger friend asked what I had hurt very concerned, I informed her oh nothing – I’m just severely out of shape.  This trip also inspired Dan and I’s New Year Morning hike tradition. We were so inspired by the beautiful scenery and burn from the hike, we really felt alive.  We feel the rush is the best way to start a new year.

Here are the photos from our awesome VIP hike.

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The above image is the view from the ground of where the large collection of petroglyphs are hidden.

 

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NM: Santa Fe My Old Friend

ADVENTURES, TRAVEL - November 21, 2016

I love Santa Fe and I long for it in the golden hours of the morning, Santa Fe my old friend.

When I woke up in Santa Fe, I gazed out our hotel window on the desert scenery and watched the sun heat the earth. It was a soft blue morning and I could feel Santa Fe’s unique peaceful energy. From the moment we arrived the people were sassy but kind, everyone had an approachable vibe about them.  One of my favorite moments was when the cashier at Whole Foods remarked that the residents of Santa Fe are all a bit kookie. A city filled with kookie people like myself. I daydream about returning for a sabbatical spending my days writing, painting, going to yoga and enjoying the delicious food.

Santa Fe was one of the most delicious cities I’ve ever been too. I can’t recall the specifics of the amazing meals we had, but I was never disappointed in any dish. Each restaurant we went to offered a red sauce or green sauce that would make an atheist believe in a god.

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We spent one of our afternoons exploring every inch of the Cathedral Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi. At the gift shop I picked up Joan of Arc and St. Christopher medallions, discussing road trips and desert adventures with the nuns. One sister shared how in her youth, she and a friend traveled along the same journey she had read about in one of her favorite books. Her tale seemed to have been before she was called to the cloth and that only increased the intrigue. Seriously, one of my favorite things about traveling is meeting new people and hearing their stories. I hope when I leave this earth, I’m not just filled with my own story but bits of pieces of hundreds of stories.

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My only disappointment from our entire time in Santa Fe was that I never had the opportunity to check out the Museum of Contemporary Native Arts. Every time we tried to go, the doors were closed, bad timing. I did, however, take as many pictures from the outside as possible, yet it doesn’t heal the pain from missing out on the exhibition they had at the time.

Driving through Arizona, Utah, New Mexico, and parts of Colorado helped to open my eyes to the circumstances that Native Americans have been put into as a consequence of historic decisions.

As I’m sharing about Santa Fe and with Thanksgiving this week, I can’t help but remark on the double edge sword this national holiday has. After hundreds of years, this holiday has been watered down to represent family and gratitude. In grade school, it’s an opportunity to introduce the history of Native Americans to young children. It’s to honor the coming together of the pilgrims and indigenous people, but we all know life wasn’t all kumbaya for the Native Americans afterward. So with that said, hindsight twenty-twenty of course the English shouldn’t have come over to America raping, pillaging, and stealing land from Native Americans. Yet, at that time of the world – unfortunately, that’s how things functioned. Countries and tribes either fought with each other or traded with each other, it seems now a days the only reason we aren’t all fighting is because we’re trading, but I digress. This Thanksgiving as we do surround ourselves with our loved ones and reflect on the blessings in our lives, let us acknowledge that although we can’t change the past, we should try to rectify the sins of our forefathers by not committing the same arrogant atrocities again.

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CA: The End of #OnTheRoad1015 – Big Sur

ADVENTURES, TRAVEL - September 21, 2016

https://youtu.be/vS73OmCDepsOnTheRoad1015 was my second big road trip and the first time I did daily vlogging. It has taken me nearly a year to edit 10 days of footage, but I did it – the final vlog has been edited. The final folder of photos watermarked and color-corrected.  Our first trip together 4 years ago was to Monterey and this 6-hour retreat from Los Angeles holds an incredibly special place in our hearts. On top of that Big Sur is one of the most beautiful places in the United States and Monterey is home to cute cuddly seals and otters. Did you see Finding Dory? Oh, the adorable otters could start a traffic jam.

I’m sorry if my storytelling is off, honestly, I’m just currently in awe of the completion of this project. I haven’t even completed writing about #ontheroad1014. It’s a strange feeling, completion.  I’ve gone on these adventures, collected the stories from the road, filed it away in my memory bank and revisit it when I write these blog or edit the videos. But now this chapter is complete, like putting down a really good book. I don’t want to move on, but know I should. It feels good and sad at the same time. So at that, I transition into the cute adorable pictures of seals and stunning Big Sur scenery. Watch the vlog for our full recap of the day.

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TX: The Magic of Marfa

ADVENTURES, TRAVEL - September 16, 2016

Marfa, TX – October 25, 2014 / DAY 24 of #ontheroad1014

We drove into Marfa’s number one hideaway El Cosmico at 10:05pm. I’d been on the phone with the receptionist earlier in the evening inquiring about lodging. There was a wedding in town and everything was booked but we could pay the $10 service fee and sleep on the property using their amenities. We hadn’t packed a tent for this road trip, so we decided to just sleep in our car in the El Cosmico parking lot. Dan parked the car and I ran to the office as the receptionist I had been talking to was locking up, operating hours were 7am-10pm. She was really friendly and just told us to pay in the morning as the register had been closed out, and then pointed to where the restrooms were located. I returned to the car and explained what was up to Dan. Some friends we made in Austin were playing that night at a bar in town, so we drove over there.

It was a dark night in Marfa and we had been driving for over 8 hours, tired but ready to see what Marfa’s night scene had to offer we enjoyed our time by the smoky fires of Lost Horse Saloon. The owner and patch-eyed cowboy, Ty Mitchell caught my attention as he does most visitors, his tall stature and cool confidence inspiring the narrative of short stories one scribbles down on bar napkins. I was exhausted and my personality was not sparkling. It was a night of polite observation, watching a large black lab sniff at the feet of locals and travelers. Interns and artists chatting about their next venture with beer bottles in their hands. The ground was covered in rocks and bottle caps.

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The band, Ted the Block, who’s touring schedule had coincidentally aligned with our road trip adventure took the stage and filled the bar with their catchy but experimental songs. A cacophony of melody produced with a grab bag of instruments that resembled the insides of a box labeled music stuff that’s hiding in the garage. After they played we went back to the El Cosmico parking lot and cleaned up for bed. It was cold and thankfully the few blankets we had with us, combined with filling the car with hot air before settling in for sleep, cocooned in a warm bubble. Yet, my mind didn’t want to rest and I repeatedly woke up in the passenger seat uncomfortable. On one of my hours of waking I noticed the sun was soon going to rise, so I woke up Dan and suggested we go and watch the sunrise from a hammock we’d spotted earlier. Grabbing our blanket we went to the hammock and cuddled under the tree, watching the golden sun rise above the horizon. It’s my number one favorite moment of the entire road trip.

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We paid for our stay at El Cosmico and explored the grounds before headed to breakfast at Buns n’ Roses, a flowers, gifts, and breakfast joint. The food was ok, the company was delightful. Family members of the wedding that was in town were seated beside us and I enjoyed eavesdropping on the happy conversations.    Unfortunately, we missed seeing all the cool day things about Marfa, since we were in the final days of our trip and Dan really wanted us to see the Carlsbad Caverns before going to Santa Fe, New Mexico. We were on a schedule and had to say good bye to the small town before any of the stores or galleries opened. I often dream of returning to Marfa, to unplug and relax for a week or even just a few days.  Surrender to my creative energies without the pressure of performance or deadlines breathing down my neck.  I see why Marfa is this mecca for artists because it has a calm presence, a blank canvas for your mind to work from.

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Last stop before hitting the road again was Prada, Marfa an art installation created in 2005 left to the elements. It’s a good 20 plus minutes from the center of town and on the side of the road, desert all around. We took our pictures, left some postcards, and were on our way. Later that day I actually received a tweet from a fellow traveler who had seen my postcard hidden behind Prada Marfa.

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CA: Reflection on Time & Iselton – My Bachan’s Hometown

ADVENTURES, TRAVEL - September 1, 2016

Being behind on content, especially when it comes to travel is a blessing and a curse. A blessing because it forces me to revisit my adventures and look back fondly on them in a cloud of nostalgia. A curse, because as I edit photos and video footage I see the difference between my skill now versus then. A curse, cause I’m constantly dipping into the past and that’s not very healthy when it comes to being happy in the present. A curse, cause new memories are being layered on top of the old ones and distilling information into a new story.

Next up on my content calendar for YouTube and my blog was when I visited Iselton, the hometown of my Bachan. I was incredibly close with my Bachan, and was proposed to with her ring. Earlier this summer I went on a pilgrimage to Tule Lake concentration camp where she was detained during WWII for being Japanese. As I edited the footage from my 2015 Pacific Northwest road trip headed for Iselton, I ended up capturing Mt. Shasta on film. At that moment when filming the mountain and scolding Dan for trying to take a picture and drive at the same time, I had no emotional attachment to that mountain. Now, in 2016 after going on the pilgrimage, I see that mountain as a landmark for the hundreds of Japanese who were shipped off to Tule Lake, completely lost and confused as to what may lay ahead.

Iselton is a rundown small town that holds historical significance as one of the first thriving Japanese and Chinese communities pre-World War II. I found a fascinating paper on Iselton that I’ll link to here, as it will highlight the history of the town much better than I could. We went to Iselton looking for a building that could possibly be my O-Jichan’s (great grandfather’s) boarding house and soda shop. A few buildings were pointed out to us as potential sites, but nothing confirmed. On one side of main street was the formerly Chinese neighborhood and the other side was the Japanese side. Today the Japanese side is falling apart, while the Chinese side has a new museum and a few of the buildings are newly renovated. But mostly this little main street was a shadow of its former self, families now using the store fronts as housing.

We fortunately had the opportunity to walk around main street with a board member of the Iselton historical society, and she graciously answered as many of my questions to the best of her ability. Sadly, I didn’t film any footage of our tour. Honestly, I just felt too uncomfortable to film. Now, I’m disappointed with myself as all the details of our time there has now fallen through the cracks of my memory. I should have at least recorded audio – something to remember for next time.

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Also in my vlog I remark on how I found my Bachan’s records of being at Tule Lake. I had completely forgotten about that and I’m not entirely sure what records I found. But yesterday, my mother did send me my Bachan’s official Tule Lake records; documents that include medical history while at the camp and a letter of recommendation to her “Americaness” from a former employer.

The past can be painful but it’s powerful, it lays the foundation for who we are and who we will become. I’ve now seen the hometown of my Bachan and my Grandpa (my Dad’s father). I’ve seen how these once middle class vibrant towns have been beaten down by time. I’ve seen the metaphorical dirt in which the seeds of my story was planted and how my family has grown, following the line and realizing where I am on this tree is very far from where it originated.  As I dip into my own past adventures, seeing where I’ve been and who’ve I’ve met along the way, I’m reminded I am growing and living my best life. Day to day I can become restless, anxious, frustrated by the present. But if I’ve learned anything from my adventures it’s that time waits for no one. Time will pass anyways and it’s what we do with time that shapes our present and future. It’s how we experience every minute, every hour, every day that adds up to the sum of our life. It’s not just the roadside attractions and destinations that make up the memory, but the in between parts to and from places as well.

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I was going to do a separate post just outlining my thoughts about my plans from now till 2017, but I think it’s more fitting to put it here. Since I’m talking about time, the past and present etc. I obviously have trouble with past content versus posting in the present. Publishing a story that happened 2 weeks ago is completely acceptable, 2 months ago sure why not, but 2 years ago just seems lazy. And I have a lot of feelings when it comes to completely abandoning stories that I have every intention of sharing, even though it’s not even remotely current. So I post with a non-existent timeline that may be confusing. and press publish with an attitude of “Hey it’s me take it or leave it” (awkward smile). I want to be more present for my blog and in my life. So between now and the end of year. I will be finishing the stories for my 2014 road trip, completing all the 2015 PNW roadtrip blog posts and videos, and finally getting to a few other miscellaneous adventures that are taking up space on my hard drive. Then in 2017 I start fresh. I have a 7 day turn-around, no more than 14 depending on external circumstance. My adventures in “real time”, then I can stop dipping into the past and instead relish in the present.

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LA: NOLA, an Unresolved Adventure

ADVENTURES, TRAVEL - August 30, 2016

New Orleans haunts me. My experience there was good, yet I feel my time there is unresolved. I left a piece of me in New Orleans, and I want to return in order to explore and understand the city better. New Orleans is a living breathing city, it possesses a strong spirit. I came to a deeper understanding of my spiritual self while on the road, and in New Orleans it was challenged. The empath in me was beaten down and I’d like to return stronger. I believe New Orleans is one of the darkest and most vibrant cities I’ve ever been too.  New Orleans (not Nashville) is music city, rhythm and melody flows out of the people there, from the man sweeping up trash on the sidewalk to a brass band in the middle of Jackson square. Jazz music rides on the wind in the French quarter and there is someone humming not too far from you.

Sadly, I wasn’t very good at taking pictures while in New Orleans – probably another reason  why I’d like to return,  but we did all the touristy things! We went on an alligator tour and fell in love with the scaly cuddly reptiles. Ate our way through the French Quarter ordering a little something here and there. Explored the St. Louis Cathedral, where I prayed and through some holy water on Dan. Stopped by Café Du Monde to enjoy fresh beignets and coffee before taking a long nap at our hotel the Maison Dupuy. At Dan’s request, we went on a ghost tour, Lord Chaz’s ghost and vampire tour to be exact and it pierced my soul. The stories we heard left me mourning for the sad souls of the past, and when Dan talked in his sleep that night – I ignored him and pretended I was asleep. On the bright side, our tour guide Alexander was amazing and we enjoyed talking with him post tour. My favorite part of traveling is meeting new people, so getting to know him and his Native American history was one of my favorite aspects of visiting New Orleans.  The next day we went to the St. Louis Cemetery (1) in the morning and had lunch in the Garden District so I could see Anne Rice’s old home. I’ve been a fan of Anne Rice since I was in the first grade and fascinated with vampires until Twilight killed the allure.

In our last few hours in New Orleans, we roamed around Frenchman street waiting for The Spotted Cat to open. We’d been told that was the place to go for good music and we didn’t want to miss out on it. We had to leave New Orleans for Houston by 6pm, and the bars on Frenchman didn’t open til 5pm.  I enjoyed a delicious bowl of jambalaya at The Praline Connection as an early dinner and then we killed some time at the Louisiana Music Factory record store.  I was so thankful that we had waited till The Spotted Cat opened because the moving and powerful voice of Sarah McCoy washed away the sadness within me, and her band The Oopsie Daisies filled me up with the bright light that comes from unadulterated passion and art.

We drove away from New Orleans on an incredible high, headed for Texas where I finally felt a real peace within me. Texas is where the seed to who I am now was planted, but New Orleans was where the soil was tilled.

Most of my photos are from the alligator swamp tour.

I think I was too captivated by the city to remember to look like a tourist.  

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OR: Goonies & Tillamook Cheese, Oregon Treasures

ADVENTURES, EATS & DRINKS, TRAVEL - August 20, 2016

October 23, 2015 | #ontheroad1015 (previous post)

When Dan and I travel we have no shame about trying to make it to a destination right before closing. We parked and ran to the Molly Brown museum in Denver, Colorado  and we parked and booked it into the Tillamook Cheese Factory.  Now that I’ve edited all the footage from October 23, 2015, I’m really damn impressed with the amount of fun we squeezed into that day.  But since the internet can be deceiving I also want to confess, that by the time we were racing to Tillamook my anxiety was sky high. That when we went to the Goonies rock, I was definitely on edge and had to apologize for momentarily turning into a mega bitch, because I’m not perfect.  I also had tunnel vision and wasn’t the best listener, as you’ll see in the video. These anecdotes are my truth, but my memory is that Dan and I flipping killed it that day and from Seattle to Eugene, Oregon we saw everything on our travel list. We laughed and ate a sandwich from a Seattle deli around the Oregon / Washington border.  We created more dorky memories for us to treasure. Since I’m not super proud of my 2015 vlogging skills, here are pictures from inside the Goonies Museum and Tillamook Cheese adventure. I highly recommend these road trip stops for any big kid!

Based on my 90’s pop-culture obsession, I assume that it would be obvious that my pop-culture obsession dips into the 80’s as well. So, yes I was raised on Goonies and I recommend looking at the following photos with the Cindy Lauper classic “Goonies ‘R’ Good Enough” playing at the same time.

Goonies Museum Oregon Road Trip

Goonies Museum Oregon Road Trip

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Tillamook Cheese Oregon Road Trip

Tillamook Cheese Oregon Road Trip

The employees were really nice and snapped this picture for us. I was trying to take a quick selfie since the factory was closed, but one of the workers said, “No let’s do this right and get in the bus.”

He took my camera and this photo is now in existence.

Tillamook Cheese Oregon Road Trip

Tillamook Cheese Oregon Road Trip

Tillamook Cheese Oregon Road Trip

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WA: A Pop Culture Seattle Adventure

ADVENTURES, TRAVEL - August 18, 2016

October 22 & 23, 2015 | #ontheroad1015 (previous post)

I was a child in the 90’s, but my sister was a teenager and with minimal parental supervision Seattle pop culture was downloaded into my brain pre-double digits. I knew of Nirvana and Kurt Cobain, I watched Kurt Loader read MTV news and my favorite season of Real World to this day is Seattle. My attraction to the opposite sex was shaped by a sexy zombie Brandon Lee in The Crow. And I had watched Reality Bites and Singles before I could understand most of the jokes.  From video dating and garage door openers to complicated post-college love affairs – I was really learning my early lessons in love. Then as I grew into my own teenagedom, I fell in love with Seattle-based movie “10 Things I Hate About You” and as my angst grew so did my desire to live where it rains 80% of the year.

At some point, my obsession and depression subsided and I became less Seattle-bound as I entered my twenties. But when Dan and I went on our Pacific Northwest road trip, all my pop culture Seattle obsessions were ignited and I had to see all the sites. (insert Pokemon theme song – “gotta catch em all”)

Dan was already a big Seattle fan and I had my reservations as I now appreciate the sun. But when we were there I could see us living in Seattle. If it wasn’t for it’s notorious “Seattle Freeze”, the term for the fact no one in Seattle wants to be your friend, it would be one of my top choices. But so far Austin, Denver, and Louisville are beating out Seattle as potential relocation destinations.

Here is the documentation of my pop culture Seattle over two days.

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We also had an incredibly awkward Airbnb experience that you can hear all about in the videos after the jump.

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A Reflection on Japanese American Incarceration : Tule Lake Pilgrimage

ADVENTURES, SNAIL MAIL, TRAVEL - July 8, 2016

The real talk aspect of this blog is about to get REALLY REAL – this is not a happy fun post, but a post that must be written. Thank you in advanced for reading this post, my reflection on Japanese American incarceration. 

On Tuesday, I woke up from a 4 day trip up to Tule Lake, the site of one of the ten Japanese Concentration Camps, and wondered “how do I do life?”

The pilgrimage to Tule Lake was a Christmas present from my mother. Her mother, my Bachan, was incarcerated at Tule Lake and my mom and aunt had attended the pilgrimage a few years ago. She had asked me a little before Christmas of 2015, if I wanted my fiancé and I’s Christmas present to be the Tule Lake pilgrimage and we both gave a resounding yes. On Tuesday when I woke up in my own bed, in my own home, I had this moment of confusion about how to go through my day. The pilgrimage is an intensive workshop of history and community, from the time we boarded the bus at 10:00am on Friday, July 1st.  Upon returning home, I forgot my routine and was filled with reflective thoughts. My eyes new with a changed perspective on life as a whole. If this is what I was experiencing after 4 days, I can only wrap my mind around how the innocent Japanese Americans felt when released, the same way I can wrap my mind around the concept of infinity. It’s feeble and lacking, false by all measure.

Everything was taken from them in an instant, and then 4 years later in a flash they are let back into the world with nothing.  Except for a country that betrayed them and a society manipulated to reject them.

We were surrounded by people who understood the history of Japanese American incarceration during WWII, from the moment we stepped on our respective buses. But maybe not the atrocities that took place at Tule Lake, nor the divide Tule Lake caused with in the Japanese community. And this is what we would learn over the next two days.

Tule Lake Pilgrimage

In Japanese culture, you don’t make waves. You don’t speak out against authority, and you respect the establishment to the utmost degree.  So when the American government presented the Japanese American people with a distasteful and deceiving “loyalty agreement”, after already being incarcerated for over a year, those who rebelled against it were sent to Tule Lake. In turn they were seen as “disloyal” to America within the Japanese American community. When in reality, these “disloyals” were really men and women who believed in their civil rights or were infuriated with the country who just incarcerated them when innocent. Basically, flipping them the bird. I come from a lineage of the latter, and I don’t blame my Great Grandfather for his decision to mark No, No.

Tule Lake around 1943 was turned into a segregation camp, sending all those who refused to sign the “loyalty agreement” from the other Japanese American concentration camps to Tule Lake. What I found interesting and heart breaking, was that after the war when the Japanese American community began to rebuild, those who were incarcerated in Tule Lake never shared that information. They didn’t want to be judged by their community and seen as troublemakers or disloyal, so this fraction of the community couldn’t even bond or connect with fellow Japanese Americans about their experience, because they were shamed into silence.

Many of the people who were incarcerated at the Japanese Concentration Camps never talked about their experience there. And everyone on the pilgrimage seemed to be desperate for pieces of the puzzle in order to create a full picture of the Tule Lake experience. The adults who were incarcerated have already passed on, and now we scrape at the memories of those who were teens or children at camp to collect their stories and perspective on the time. Our elders have died with their stories locked behind the doors of trauma, and their children search their own memories for what stories might have slipped.

As I write this I’m conflicted with what I can share and what is left behind closed doors. It is not easy for people to share their trauma and pain, and it is not right for me to exploit those stories for my own readers without their permission. All I can do is paint a picture. Imagine you are told you can only take what you can carry, heirlooms and family pets are left behind. You are trying to figure out what you can sell off for the best price, because you don’t know when you’ll return home, and your customer knows the desperate situation you’re in and does not have a compassionate heart. The plans you had for the future were stolen from you. The family dynamic is dissolved, and you end up living in a barrack with 10 other families. Your bed is merely a cot with a mattress cover you stuff with straw. The holes in the walls bring in dirt and dust from the outside. You’re never clean. You’re never comfortable. You don’t have a home. You’re innocent. You were born in America and have pledge the allegiance during school, “with liberty and justice for all.” But you have yellow skin, almond eyes, and black hair; apparently that excluded you. So you had to board a train to destination unknown and live in a prison for an undetermined amount of time.

On Saturday, the pilgrimage collected in front of the jail that is currently undergoing a restoration at Tule Lake, and held a memorial service for all those who had died and lived through the Japanese Concentration Camp. The pilgrimage hosted a Christian and Buddhist service and the attendees were able to lay down flowers and cranes for our family and fallen. It was a moving service. Later in the day my fiancé and I took a bus tour of the camp, which was massive, and my heart broke for the lack of preservation. An airport runway now runs through Block 25 where my Bachan lived at Tule Lake. The Tule Lake cemetery was turned into a landfill. All but 10 bodies which were unidentified have been returned to the families. And as I sat on the bus with our guide vaguely pointing out where certain buildings of the camp would have been, I looked out onto a neighborhood and a grassy field confused as to what was where, and then just in awe of the size of this camp that held up to 18,000 people. It’s the closest thing to walking a mile in my Bachan’s shoes I could ever get.

Tule Lake Pilgrimage

Tule Lake Pilgrimage

Tule Lake Pilgrimage

A few of the ‘super seniors’, those who were teens while at Tule Lake shared their stories.  One explained the process of building the jail (can you imagine building a jail to house your own people?) and then the abuse that took place to those who were put behind bars, inside the fence they were already trapped behind. These people further incarcerated, not because of legitimate crimes, but because they were brave enough to talk back and express their freedom of speech or were labeled a “troublemaker”. Another ‘super senior’ shared his story of refusing to answer the loyalty agreement and in turn was sent to a department of justice camp. In the middle of the night he was thrown on his knees in front of a firing squad verbally abused until the guard wanted to let him and his fellow rebels go.

What were the questions he refused to answer that led to this kind of psychological torture.

Question #27 asked:

“Are you willing to serve in the armed forces of the United States on combat duty wherever ordered?”

-Question #28 asked:

“Will you swear unqualified allegiance to the United States of America and faithfully defend the United States from any or all attack by foreign or domestic forces, and forswear any form of allegiance or obedience to the Japanese emperor, or any other foreign government, power, or organization?”

This same gentlemen had tried to enlist after Pearl Harbor to defend his country, America, but was denied and told he was an enemy alien. Now, he was asked to draft himself again after a year of imprisonment! And how can you forswear allegiance to a country you were never aligned with in the first place? Disgusting.

Tule Lake Pilgrimage

Both Friday and Saturday night I listened to those who were incarcerated tell their story, and I was moved. I listened to their memories like they were water and I had been thirsty in a desert. Sunday morning, the 450 attendees were divided into smaller groups to reflect on their experience and ask questions to try piece together the past. In the afternoon I watched a talk by Nancy Ukai, Dr. Satsuki Ina, and Dr. Junko Kobayashi on Camp Artifacts: Giving Voice and Bearing Witness. There were 6 other amazing talks going on concurrently, but I had met Nancy in our morning discussion group and was intrigued by the story objects can invoke. Nancy was an integral part in stopping the sale of 450 concentration camp artifacts at a Rago art auction. I wasn’t aware of this when it occurred, but it was announced in the New York Times and quickly there after the Japanese American community did a “hell no!” and a petition circulated effectively stopping the auction. Nancy shared the stories behind three different pieces from the collection that would have been sold, and their connection to Tule Lake. The piece that was most moving was the propaganda photo that was taken to shed a positive light on the Japanese American incarceration of an adorable Japanese boy in a cereal box flower crown. Nancy was able to track down the boy, now a 70 year old man, who shared he did not even remember the photo nor the fabricated fairy tale attached to the photo – that the class was putting on a cheerful Labor Day performance. She opened the discussion with this powerful poem that I think should be kept in mind when viewing any of the photos from that time.

Because my mouth

Is wide with laughter

And my throat

Is deep with song,

You do not think

I suffer after

I have held my pain

So long?

Because my mouth

Is wide with laughter,

You do not hear

My inner cry?

Because my feet

Are gay with dancing,

You do not know

I die?

“Minstrel Man”, Langston Hughes

tule lake pilgrimage

The pilgrimage ended on July 4th, my Bachan’s birthday, and we boarded our buses back to our respective airports or pick up points and said good bye to this moving experience. While headed back to the Sacramento Airport, we shared out thoughts on the pilgrimage and as I shared my feelings I broke into tears. The night before I had sobbed thinking of my Bachan, missing her. On the bus, my tears were for her pain and the anger she held inside. I commented about how my dirty and draining days in the sun at Coachella for two weeks inspires a deep desire for comfort. After the festival I immediately book a shiatsu appointment, manicure, give myself a face mask, and sink into my comfortable bed like a heavenly cloud. This is only after a few days of the elements, and my Bachan experienced the same sun and dirt relentlessly for 4 years. No comfortable bed. No spa like shower. No privacy.

Tule Lake Pilgrimage

Airport runway now runs between where my Bachan barrack would have been.

Tule Lake Pilgrimage

The foundation of the 73rd block latrine.

Tule Lake Pilgrimage

An example of what the camp barracks looked like on view at the Tule Lake museum

What I haven’t talked about are the riots, the Marshall Law, the guard abuse, the deaths, the torture, the renouncing of citizenship under collusion, and the endless examples of total civil rights violation. I hope my sharing of the pilgrimage inspires you to search out that information independently. I also hop e my story inspired people to educate themselves and stand up against the fear induced hatred toward any community of innocent people. The people who experienced this are still alive, this is not ancient history, THIS is living history. We must hold onto our stories and history in order to keep it from ever happening again. Refuse to become complacent.

When I think of my Bachan and what she endured, I am humbled. My troubles become trivial, and I tell myself I come from good stock. I was born with a strength inside of me to persevere, to move forward and thrive. If my Bachan can live in a concentration camp for 4 years and go on to see me born, love me, and make me feel like I am supremely special – then I will not disrespect her belief in me by not believing in myself.

Thank you for reading my story and following my journey to #knowbachan

Bachan - June Ritsu Murakami

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AL: A Stop in Spectre

ADVENTURES, TRAVEL - June 1, 2016

The movie Big Fish is my favorite Tim Burton movie, Edward Scissorhands being my second favorite, and when I was first planning our road trip across the south I had come across the fact you could visit Spectre. The magical town in Big Fish where Ewan McGregors’s character Edward Bloom stops in for just awhile, until he remembers the life he needs to return to.    I had forgotten about Spectre until we were driving through Alabama on our way to New Orleans and Dan was looking at Roadtrippers. It’s a fantastic app for those that love detours. It tells you anything from points of interests to places to eat along your route, if you’re planning a road trip you must download the app.

Anyways,  Dan had said there is this place called Spectre we could visit, and I lit up! I started to tell him all the things I had learned about the place beforehand and that we had to ask a little old lady for the passcode to get through the gate.  He was up for the adventure and off we went to explore Spectre. It’s a solid 15 mins from the major highway and very secluded. We had no idea what to expect and after crossing over some train tracks we were in this little area with a few houses and a gate that clearly separated us from Spectre. Since the direction on Roadtrippers also confirmed the need to talk to a little old lady, we searched for one and found a woman who was muttering to her dog and picking up her mail. I walked up to her kindly and said that there is a rumor that she was the one who had a code to see Spectre. She asked me, “what?” and I explained to her what the app said and she confirmed she could give us the code. She told us the town was really run down since it’s just a movie set, and that they had to demolish a few buildings. That the church was still standing, but mostly everything else was sad looking. We didn’t care, we wanted to see Spectre.

After a friendly chat, we got the code and followed the one dirt road to Spectre. As we followed the road for a sign of the old set, we saw other trucks and people there fishing and enjoying a beautiful sunny day. Spectre is in the center of this private peninsula and once we spotted the church steeple,  Dan and I pulled over and got out to walk around the dilapidated set. We didn’t go inside any of the building as there was a lot of overgrown plants and honestly, I was chicken, afraid of getting hurt. But still I was just thrilled to say I had made a stop in Spectre.  I went to YouTube to find a clip of Spectre in all it’s glory and saw a few recent vlogs of people visiting the set, it seems like it has been cleaned up a little since we went 2 years ago. Makes me wonder if you still have to talk to a little old lady to get the code.

Spectre Big Fish Road Trip

Spectre Big Fish Road Trip

more photos after the jump…

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