I'd Like to Explain Myself

Sooo, ever since I moved over here to Okinawa after my stint as a pearler and bus driver in Australia, I haven't had any internet up in my place of living. Finally, today, I got my internets connected. Yes! No more internet cafes for me.

My days bumping around on the pick up trucks of Cambodia, skating the bright streets of Hong Kong, diving into a salty, soupy Indian Ocean at lunch after chipping pearl shell all day, and seeing any and all things with my naked eye have turned into my days teaching little Okinawan kids in two elementary schools in the middle of the old Koza city, one bustling urban and one chill quiet, driving in the spring rains my new car that my friend who moved back to Osaka hooked up, reading Raymond Carver and Charles Webb, eating really good yakiniku at my girlfriend's house, and still seeing all and any things with my naked eye.

My experience makes me feel blessed everyday, though I did wish I was able to be back in my home country for the inauguration earlier this year. But I'm seeing things from a different perspective- the fourth graders at Moromi were chanting "Yes we can, yes we can" in class like it was the first English phrase that was driven into their brains...

The closest I get to the US these days is Gatorade bought at the store on the Marine Air Base or the Chili's we had on-base the other day. Damn that was some good steak! Anyway, I hope if you 're ever bored enough to read this you'd understand the meaning of my juxtaposition of red Gatorade with the city of Ginowan: I was real thuuursty and came out of my apt door to a beauty of a sunset the other day. I dunno, I wasn't really like, playing sports or nothing, but the Gatorade was pretty good, yafeel?




I also added a middle name to my full name as well: Weston. This whole thing started like two years ago when my dad was driving me to the airport. Merging from the 405 north to the 105, he said he wanted to change his name to Johnny. I was like, "Yeeah man!" I was about to make an American name in 7th grade, but was too lazy/clueless to get to the courthouse to change my name. So then we got to talking, and last month we were both like, okay let's do it. So now I'm Aki Weston Murai, and my father is Johnny Yoshiro Murai. And that's that.

I'm still Aki. Weston is secondary. Aki knows you and that will never change. Shit feels weird, writing in third person. That last sentence sounded like a facebook status message... aahhh, the wonders of coming back online...

Peace, I'll be putting up them alphabet drawings in my classroom tomorrow. laaaterr

I Think I May Have a Cracked Rib

So like a month ago, I was pooting down the main Highway 58 on my nice little moped, and was going through a green light near Chatan (yeeah, it's where all the cool kids kick it) and this dumb chick with her obese girlfriend in a tiny jalopy decide to turn left last second no signal to get to the dingy club they were going to. And the only place they went to was Right In My Right Front. It was like baaamm-booooomm. I impacted the passenger side and then kinda flopped over on my left side. I got angry, got the info, got back on my bike with a cracked light.

I thought I was coo, but now, four weeks later, the little scratch I had on my left underarm part is starting to ache and pang. Kinda sucks... whoooa

So yeah, you know, watch out for them skanks in little cars turning left, is all I'm saying.

I'm pretty sure my rib's allright, hopefully. Let's go get some ribs at Tony Romas!

Too Epic Not To Post

So these past couple months, I've been going to work everyday over here, and am so glad to have internet at work because I can finish with my classes and such, then have maybe a bit of time to check my email and my favorite sites online. I'm sorry, I may be buying in or whatever, but ever since I found the Berrics, it's definitely been on the top of my list. Sometimes I don't even bother with the email; I go straight to Steve Berra and Eric Koston's skatepark in LA. Daaamn they're doing such a good thing... especially for people like me who can't go out and skate good ol LA everyday... the rocks and old sidewalks and crazy weather in Okinawa doesn't let one skate too often. The Berrics, and also Crailtap, feeding my hunger for skate culture while I live on a not so skateable island. Thank and bless you people for putting shit like this on the web.

And here, we have the skate fiends (wantus- skateboardius)
of Phnom Penh, typically residing in and around open-air markets.
Photo from like, about a year ago.

But anyway, get out and doooo iiittt.
skate fiend.

One Liner Diners

Rather than sitting down at a Denny's here, I'd rather sit in the Jimmy's restaurant across the street and have a scone.

Jimmy's sells the Aussie 2-litre orange-mango juice we used to drink back in Beagle Bay.

What Jimmy's doesn't have is the "Morning Start Juice", which was one of the dopest juices I've ever had.

Borrowing my friend's manual-shift-light-car makes for a good time. Because it's lite, too.

軽自動車： Lite-car.

Natto and coffee don't really go together that well.

Lately I've been climbing my apt stairs further up in the morning, for a "start" and kicks.

Good thing I've recently met another Nikkei homie.

"Give me my biscuits, Malloy! "

No chips ahoy for morning starts. Perhaps natto will go better with orange juice?

Big ups to all the travellers out there.

Bit-o-Movie

For some reason I really wanted to watch this about 17 minutes ago.

So, this here is a scene from a movie that I'm all abooouuuut. Not necessarily the movie, but the scene, I'm so down for. Why? Because it features one of my favorite people who I don't know but would love to meet. And also because I hate inanimate objects when they look at me that way, you know, with the slanted screws and kind of sideways stare... anyway, The Gonz!! Hellyeah.





The movie is Gummo, if you're into that kind of thing, you're into that kind of thing. If you're at all into skating, then you already know who Mark Gonzales is. Leg-end.

Peace from the far east.

Skate And Create (an old event)

We roll.

So these are some pictures I found from my digital camera of this event that was happening on Okinawa called Skate and Create, where there were all these Japanese artists' graphic skate decks at this shop in a town called Urasoe. Dude who works there was dope; he hooked me up with some books for cheap and he made the last piece phototted here. My girlfriend and I also went to the closing party at this nice little club, with a guitarist who knew every style you can possibly know and a little mc battle, and the whole time they were showing early nineties skate videos on a screen behind the stage- alien workshop, jeremy wray, element biizzz

Art n cultcha, brah, das what im sayn.

Graff in Okinawa

If anyone not from Okinawa comes to visit and they're even minimally into street art, I'll take you to the seawall in Chatan, and there's also one in Okinawa Shi that has numbers and numbers of graffiti murals. You can see the ocean and beyond over the wall that's like waist height, and some of the pieces are good, and some are, like stick figure-Stussy S (ahahah remember that? try to draw one now) status. There are other stretches of the wall that is reserved for Okinawan elementary school homerooms and other kids' mural projects. Pretty dope.

Anyway, I came back to Okinawa after winter break and it seems like there are more graff pieces along the roads that I frequent; for sure graffiti survives longer than in the big cities here on this little island, but I was quite pleased to see art under the bridge, on the street electric box, and in a closed down gasoline stand, like this one. I'm just down for art, and if this was the Whereverhome Art Gallery, we would sit and judge these pieces while eating camembert and drinking Cabsav, but it's not, and so just take a look at a bit of expression on the island of Okinawa. The unsung heroes:

Gas station- it was sooo cold this day riding the good ol moped.
Imagine your hands like ice sculpture blocks of cheese.

Smiley dude.

Same writer, saying like, aahh well, sucks not

to get into the ladies room with em, but whatcanyado?

Can you go wrong with Popeye-ish imagery?

So ill.

This is right next to the gas station. "Tomato House"