On Being Back Part 2

Displacement

I may repeat a few ideas from the post before this*

Some days are definitely  easier than others. I find myself irritated at the little things. The man who didn't say thank you, the kid who was unnecessarily rude, the list could go on. It's the little things that drive you up the wall and I don't realize I've become snippy until I've snapped at someone.

I don't mean to do it, but I do. The irritability is there and it's because... well it's kind of hard to explain. Imagine going through your day with a sense of wrongness about certain things. I'm not using chopsticks at every meal, it's unacceptable to bath together here, and I have a language that is blunt to work with instead of Japanese. Japanese tends to dance around the subject and lets you infer it through the things you talk about. My day feels off kilter because of this, this feeling that certain things are missing.

Not that I'm not happy! Don't get me wrong, I am very happy to be home. I've missed my family and friends, I've missed hanging out with them and just being around them. Like everyone says, it feels just like when I first went on exchange.

I don't let myself think about Japan just as I didn't let myself dwell on America when I first went to Japan. I don't try and focus on the differences just yet, because I'm still the the very euphoric phase of 'I'm home!' and 'everything is so familiar and I've missed so many things'. I have been told that when this phase wears off, you begin to focus more on the differences and judge things differently because of them.

On a side-note, I miss my classmates. I look at their pictures, their gifts to me, and it pulls my heart. These kids, more accepting than most adults were in the situation I was in, let me into their world. Oh yes there was the rocky road of bullying and racism, but once I blasted past that, I felt at home. I miss the talks of mixed English and Japanese, the laughter and jokes that needed no language to be understood. I miss their random hugs and closeness. Don't let stereotypes fool you, Japanese people (once you are welcomed into their circle) have no boundary lines. It's usually male to male or female to female, very rarely do the lines cross in that sense. They will hug you, touch your arm, play with your hair and clothing, and they will touch your face. When someone began brushing up against me, I took it as a sign that I was welcomed to do the same and that they considered me their friend. There was a lot of subtle body language like that, and I miss it. I miss having random hugs because I walked down the hallway, or the hair tugging of friends who wanted me to put my hair down so they could play with it. You could say I miss the skinship/friendship that came with my lady friends.

This skinship also blended into family life. I'm used to laying on the ground and having my kids climb over me and snuggle next to me for a nap, but I can't stand it when my own siblings back home do that to me. It feels like it's not right in the sense that they aren't my host siblings and that it isn't their place to do it. But their are my siblings, blood siblings. Does this make me a bad sister? Or just a confused bi-cultural person stuck between home and home trying to figure it all out again.

I thought the idea of reverse culture shock was stupid. I'll be honest and say that I thought it would never happen to me. I was too well prepared, I was too well informed, but here I am. I didn't realized that I suffered from culture shock in Japan because I took everything in stride in hopes of becoming a part of their world and lives, and now I'm back home going through the same thing. But I'm not sure where I stand. Going to Japan I knew my place, I knew I was an ambassador between the cultures. I was there to show that not all Americans are what the stereotypes of my people portray. Now I am home and without that purpose anymore. I don't know my place anymore. Yes, I am a college student. Yes, I am a Rebound (Rotary term for returned exchange students). Yes, I am an American. But no, I am not an ambassador anymore. I don't go to functions to give speeches about the differences and similarities between Japan and America. I am only asked to talk about 'my trip' or 'my vacation'.  I'm missing a part of my life that had been there when I was living in Japan.

People don't really care to hear about the sadness in life. Few people care to hear the bad parts of your daily life in the first place, no one wants to hear about the bullying, the racism, and the pain exchange students endure to get to best parts.  All of this was my life in Japan.  All of the happiness and sadness was apart of the identity I had in Japan. I my mind, every inch I gained in knowledge made the victories and fun times even sweeter. The struggle was what made it all worth it, but no one really wants to hear about that.  I can't blame them, I can only be frustrated and confide in my fellow rebounds.  Which I have to recommend to others who have also returned. (I will write a blog on the difficult spots)

I find it hard to go through pictures to make a presentation because the memories are still fresh and I haven't really looked into the pain of separation from the people I had welded myself to for a year.  Well, 318 days if we are going to be specific.  I don't want to look at the pictures, because I don't want to be sad.  I want to be happy, being home should be a happy thing and it is.  I just... it's hard to explain and put into words.  My fellow rebounds surely feel this too.  Memories are powerful things.

I feel dreamlike in my return.  I stopped myself from thinking about going home for so long, now that I am home it's almost too surreal to be true.  I'm home, I'm speaking English, I'm communicating perfectly (most of the time, I still screw up English on occasion), and I'm back with my family.  When I speak sometimes I feel like I'm making nonsense noises.  I don't feel like I'm actually speaking but everyone seems to get what I'm saying even if I feel like I don't know what I'm saying.  I just feel detached in that way. 

Starting my job back up has helped, it gives me an outlet where I have to interact with people and it gives me a schedule that I have to follow.  It gives me a busier day that varies, I was used to never knowing what would happen that day.  Adrenaline became a daily part of my life, and now that I'm back, it's almost hum-drum because there is nothing to really surprise me, and no communication or language that I have to struggle through.

Not to say I'm bored, but that I feel at ease.  I feel comfortable here.  I was used to being on the edge of my seat, always thinking, always planning, always translating one thing or another.  It was a rush, always being unsure.  Being back home and in a place that I can easily communicate and read, I feel like I'm missing some edge that I had while in Japan.

There may be a Part 3 of this series eventually, as I continue through this reverse culture shock.  I think the next update will be a little happier.

On Being 'Home' Part 1

Out Of Place

There is something disorientating about being back home.  It's like I never left, but at the same time it feels like I've never returned.  It's almost dream-like.  I still remember how to do that laundry and how to work the dish washer, but I forgot how to work my shower and was confused as to why I didn't have a bathtub.  I forgot that we don't have soup for breakfast but instead cereal, which I had grow used to being a dessert item.

My language skills are interesting to say the least.  I switch and forget words, and I don't know how long it'll take it to go away.  I hit this stage when I was in Japan, I still suffered from it when I was leaving.  Forgetting words just seems to be a part of who I am, but remembering the most random words or meanings seems to have become a skill.  I can't remember the word for return (like returning an item) in Japanese but I remember the word for the concept of evolution.  The simplest things throw me through the loop.

I call things by their Japanese terms translated into English.  I called the washing machine the laundry machine.  I get lost in translation and how appliances differ between countries.  I got confused with the sink and why it had two places to put dishes instead of one.  I was confused with the garbage for the first day before I remembered that we don't have extreme recycling laws here.

I'm no longer surrounded by people that I can switch between Japanese and English as I see fit, my friends and family don't understand the Japanese I blurt out on occasion whereas my friends on the other side of the world do.  I feel like there's a level missing from my communication skills because of this.  I don't have the daily practice so I have to work that much harder now that I'm back.

It's getting easier here, I'm no longer getting sick with every meal and I'm no longer quite so off kilter with time.  Having a routine helps a lot.  It keeps me on track and is letting me get back into the swing of American life style.  Not that is' a bad different, it's just foreign to me on a few levels.  Just as Japan was home but not quite, home has become the same.  I had heard that this would happen, that I would be stuck between the two and no longer fully at home in either situation anymore.  It's worth it though, so very worth it.

There were some aspects of the English language I missed.  I can be transparent with my meanings, I can be ambiguous, and can be very humble in Japanese.  I remember reading somewhere that how people talk changes depending on the language they speak.  I believe that to be true.  In English I'm straightforward and have a good understanding of puns and spoken word play.  In Japanese I'm quieter, less straightforward and more inclined to dance around the subject (that's something I had to work on getting better at), and I can be either extremely formal or informal to the point that I would only speak that way to the best of my friends.

Either language is comfortable to me on some level.  I prefer to speak in Japanese if I have to be formal (I'm also more comfortable apologizing in Japanese because of the layers you can use to express yourself), and the worst part is that formal Japanese doesn't really have accurate translations that have as deep a feeling to them to be as the original Japanese words.  I prefer English when I'm joking around with friends, I just have a better grasp on joking and playing around with words in English than I do Japanese.  Though, I do like how informal Japanese can be and how it makes you seems at total ease with the people around you.

English is great for communicating, Japanese is good for understanding.  I still manage to screw up them both.

Besides language, the scenery.  The scenery is so very different here.  I'm not cradled by mountains and flanked by the ocean.  I'm not surrounded but the low laying clouds or the seasonal weather I grew used to.  There were parts of it I didn't enjoy, humidity being the main one, but I adjusted and acclimated.  It's strange coming back to climate of Minnesota.  From dead heat with humidity to dead heat with lightning storms.  I'm surrounded by fields and farming instead of the wildness and rice paddies.  I lived in the middle of the Japanese countryside.

The sights here in Minnesota are so foreign and familiar that it feels like dejavu when I look out the window.  It feels like I never left because I returned around the same time I took off.  The scenery hasn't really changed, my house hasn't changed much except for a few things outside that have been changed around.  It just feels strange, happy/sad strange, to be back.

I'm happy to sleep in my own bed and eat my mom's food.  I'm happy to be back with my family, friends, and pets.  I really am happy to be back, but at the same time it almost feels like I'm not back.  I didn't let myself think about returning when I was abroad.  I refused to let myself think about that because I believed it would take away from the time I had to spend with my host families in Japan.  It's just a strange feeling to not have to block my thoughts on being back home anymore.

I'll have more blogs about Japanese life coming up, I wanted to get this one out of the way because the content was nagging me and was making it hard to write other blogs...  I also have a big meeting coming up in Grand Rapids, Michigan where Exchange Students from around the area get together to talk about our experiences and trade stories and trade secrets with the new exchange students who are getting ready to leave.

See You Soon

また近いうちに

Mata chikaiuchiniou

On the Connections

Bridges

For the time I am in Japan, I will have had host families.  All of them are very different from the other, but all similar in how they have supported me while I explore their world. Each family has been a stepping stone in my education here in Japan about the many faces language and culture can possess. 

Each family represents a mile stone for me, a place where I grew and learned to express again.  I was once told that an exchange student is a child in the new culture, a babe learning to talk and walk all over again. Not that the way you talk or walk is wrong, but that you are experiencing something new and need to absorb what you can while you can.

My first family, the Nakamura's. They were a big family, made up of extended family members and shop assistants.  They were a large connected body that welcomed me into become a piece of it with them. I come from a decent sized family myself. The women tend to be in charge, not that I have a lack of male role models. My first family was a matriarchy, my host mom being the grandma of the family and the leader. She ran the business, family, and al affairs concerning the many children of the family. It was familiar ground to me, something I welcomed in my initial state. Nothing was familiar, but I understood who was in charge and that made everything so much easier for me.

My first family was a bridge.  They connected me to themselves, Rotary, and my school.  I've been the new kid all my life but I've never been a new kid where I can't communicate.  That was a rush, let me tell you!  I was given a place in their family, one that I still have now.  They looked after me, guided me, and helped me learn.

They owned a flower shop, so it was familiar ground for me again.  I love flowers, I've gardened sine I was really little and the smell of flowers is relaxing to me. I would sit around the workshop and practice chatting with the shop hands.  They didn't mind me taking up some extra space and I like to think they enjoyed chatting with me, they still flag me down when I see them and talk to me! The first few weeks of life in Japan are hazy with the stifling heat of summer and humidity levels that made me drown in the air, but my passage was eased by the comfort that my family gave me.

School was very stressful during that time, it was nice to have a home I could come home to and not be laughed at for talking. Not that I didn't have friends, I was just stressed beyond all reason. New language, new school, and limited communication with anyone.  I had no English contact in those first few months, no English speaking friends that I could hang out with yet! Sure I had home, but I didn't come here to spend all day on the computer talking to them.

I spread myself out, offered to help teach English at school because I was getting nowhere on my own,   I started going to weekly Japanese lessons where I met other ALT teachers and made friends with them. I'm thankful for their friendship even more than ever these days. I started twice monthly lessons in shamisen (Japanese guitar). I was spreading out and feeling happier for it, it had connections and appointments and friends. Real friends that I could communicate fully with and hang out with sine they lIve close by.

If my first family helped me build it, the second house helped my strengthen it.  I was teaching ALT classes every Monday and Wednesday so I had something to look forword to during the school week. I had my own life and the second family supported me in helping me keep it up.  They drove me to classes and let me go out to hang out with my ALT friends.  They let me be me and I'm great flu for that.  I started helping in my new host sisters cooking class and bonded with her over her children and food.

I have to say, she is the closest person I am to here in Japan that is Japanese and not a foreigner like myself.  She is very good at inferencing and looking between the words when I talk to her.  She attempts talking with me, and when I talk to her, I stop noticing my stumbles and notice where I am strong.  She helps me fix when she can but she is very polite and doesn't like pointing out faults, but I appreciate her help anyway.  I went to volleyball with her and her friends, made more friends through her connections.  My second family was a bridge to the surrounding cities and the people in them. 

My first house ws very busy with their business so I didn't go anywhere with them in all entirety, but I don't blame them.  It's hard running a busy flower shop! My second host family had more time off and I with them over my first big break from school so they filled in the free days with trips to museums, art galleries, restaurants, and shopping trips to the next big city over.  They showed me pieces of Japan I couldn't have seen on my own.

If my first two houses were about learning to fit in to Japan, my third host family has been about testing myself as a person.  It's not that I have any real issues with my family, it's a personality barrier that chips away at me if I don't keep my focus.  I don't have defense mechanisms, I don't have Andy wit or a sharp tounge to stick up for myself at all. This family teases me in a way that I find uncomfortable at its worst.  It's the little things that take you down at the knees.

Yes, this family has shown me Japan and they have given me beautiful gifts and have welcomed me into their family; but they don't take into consideration that I'm not like them.

I do not get their jokes, I do not get their humor, and I do not like the mindless teasing one bit.

All of my families had money or a successful business that supported them and their close family. None have made this more apparent to me than this third family.  It makes me uncomfortable even thinking about it. I don't care about money, I don't care about your social position, I don't care about the influence you have; none of this impresses me or charms me to a certain person.  This family pushes my boundaries for what my thick skin and ideals can take.

I'm learning about my boundaries through them and I'll tell you, it is educational.

All of my families are special to me in their own way.  Each aggravate me in their own way as well.  Every day they remind me of the family I have back home, of the things I've missed and have yet to miss.  They are my family as much as they aren't and it catches me in this thinking place where I'm not sure what to do I with myself.

I have roughly two months left here and I don't know whether to be happy or sad.  I've learned so much already! It makes me wonder what else I could absorb if I could stay for longer, but at the same time I am home sick.

My families here have bridged me to not only Japan, but myself.  That's food for thought.

See You Soon

また近いうちに

Mata chikaiuchiniou

On Overcoming Trials

Dependent 

Well, I have some explaining to do. I've been off of blogging for a while but I have a really good reason as to why I was on hiatus for so long.

My computer is out of commission and it is rather hard to type out a full blog just from the screen of a iPod. A tiny screen mind you, no room for fingers I tell you.

So now I'm back! Through the work of my Rotary and school district back home! I have a a lot of thank you's that I need to pile out. They worked together to get a school issued iPad mini to my more to send to me so I could continue my work and study easier. It's a pulse that get screen is large enough for me to type from! 

It's been a rough patch for me without my dearly beloved piece of technology. It's been a learning lesson none the less. I a very tech orientated. I need it in some of huge worst ways. It's a comfort thing, that no matter how far I am from home, I can always reach the people I need to at a moments notice. I'm afraid of being severed from them, and I'm afraid of being severed from the sense of connection the internet gives me. I'm a millennial alright, I admit to this.  Durning my time away from tech I learned to distance myself and deal with my inability to connect as I had before. It was an uncomfortable lesson, but one I needed. It's not that I'm always contacting home, it's just that the option is available for me if I ever need it.

My Rotary here I Japan did try their best to help me, but a shattered screen is hard to replace when I don't have the money on hand or the right people to contact. So it will get fixed when I get home, my original panic is over with, but it was terrifying at first.  All of my photos are backed up into May counter along with all of my unwritten blog posts and all of the videos I've taken here. Losing those memories would have devastated me. Back onto topic, my Rotary here in Japan did try to help me but it was about of their power. I give them ample credit for even trying.

In the end I learned my lesson that technology will fail when you least expect it and it is best to allow yourself to go with the flow rather than fight it. That aside I also learned that backing up all me stuff on one things was a bad, bad, idea.

I thank everyone who helped to get this iPad to me.  I thank you from the bottom of my heart because I can be productive again on a level that can get stuff done again!

I'll be adding more blogs the next few days, this was just an explanation as to why I was so silent for so long...

See You Soon

また近いうちに

Mata chikaiuchiniou

On Normal

Changes

My perception of normal life had changed.  This is a given, having lived in Japan for over six months now, but it still throws me through a loop when I sit back and really take a look.  This is my life.  I’m happy with it most days.  Sure, I get homesick and upset, but overall I’m pretty happy.

My normal includes a lot of things I hadn’t really thought about before coming here.  Riding my bike to the train station and successfully getting a ticket to the next town over is one of them.  Walking up the long road to school decked out in my full uniform is another.  I would have never though that putting on a kimono would become something natural and normal for me to do.  It’s so easy, living this life now.  I'm no longer afraid of what I might have to confront the next day because let's be honest, I've been tackling days for almost seven months now.  I think I've got a grip on it now.

I would have never imaged it this way when I had first touched down.  I was deathly scared and overwhelming amazed with everything when I first got here in August.  Everything was new, fresh, and so very strange to me.  Everything was something to discover.

Now, this strange world has become a part of my daily life.  It is something that few will really understand but I’m okay with that.  My fellow exchange students know this feeling.  We will have spent around a year of our lives away from our families.  We don’t tell them everything that happens every day so the little lessons learned are lost between us.  These little lessons are hard to put into words for myself because I don’t have words for them surprisingly enough.

I have learned many big lessons which area always good stories to share and tell to explain exactly what it is I am doing living here.

I’ve changed, mutated in ways that make sense but I never envisioned.  I’m older without being older with this.  Maybe matured is the better word for it.

Overall, exchange is about growth.  That’s the bottom line and what it comes down to is how much you have grown, how far you have stretched, to get to where you are now. 

I like this feeling, of knowing who I am and what my limits are.  It makes one comfortable in one’s own skin to know your own downfalls and short comings.  It gives you a chance to grow over them and move past the blocks in your life.  It lets you explore you for you and evaluate what kind of person you are.

I have a short temper, or I did before coming here.  I still have a bit of a flare in me but it’s more spice than burn.  I knew I had a temper back home so I kept it under control by watching myself.  I’ve had flares of anger here but they seem to work with my frustration then just pure anger.  I’m more balanced now because of the time I have spent looking at myself, examining who I am, and taking the measures I need to fix the issue.  Japan, or at least the area I live in, is sleepy.  This has helped me smooth myself.

As I’m changing I am learning.  I like this feeling of inward expansion as I blunder through my days.  I’ve expanded my sense of normal and what is normal for others and I can see the differences and appreciate them.

I’m a little over half way there, so I think I’m going to keep up the pace that I have set.

See You Soon

また近いうちに

Mata chikaiuchiniou

On Families and Rotary

Surrogate

I think I've been really lucky with my host families to far.  Honestly.  They have been wonderful to me.  They helped me understand the new world I've thrown myself into.  Host families really make the RYE experience what it is.

Sure, they are outings with the other Rotarians as groups to go out and do cultural things, but those are once every few months.  I don’t have exchangers close to me, so I’m separated from them until the next conference or trip.  It’s not as bad as it sounds, I’m happy in a way about it.  It allows me to be fully immersed.

In between those times with Rotary, I am left to live my life.  I’m living my life quite similarly to how I did back home.  I go to school, I play with my families, I study, and I do extra things in my days.  It’s not an exact replica of my life back home, but it’s just the right amount to make me feel that I’m okay when I’m sad.

My host families, they help and care for me as if I were their own child, and I’m grateful for that.  I’m treated like an alien enough in my daily life that coming home is a relief.  I can talk freely with them without fear of ridicule, they would rather correct me than laugh at me.  They make sure I am happy, even in the little things.  It’s exasperating sometimes because I’m honestly not a picky person.  Really, I don’t mind kids either, growing up in my life you don’t mind kids.

I’m happy that I've been accepted as me, not just as an exchange student, but my families see me as an intelligent person.  Kids and teachers at school haven’t quite grasped that.  It’s not me being mean in saying so, but think about this; what do you think about the ESL kid that is at your own child’s school or your school?  Can they demonstrate their wit, their smarts, and their moral to you in a way that you can understand yet?

It’s like that.  They don’t view me as stupid, but I’m not smart either.  I do not mean to brag, but I am smart.  But I’m smart enough to keep my mouth shut because it’s not something I want to fight with the school about, not something I want to start a fight with teachers about.  I would rather let them keep on believing while the ones who talk to me start to understand that is a bit more to the strange girl with glasses in class.

My host families are a place where there is no stress, no pressure to perform.  I appreciate them and their attempts to comfort me, it really does help.  They take me to English themed restaurants, they buy me U.S. foods on occasion too, and truthfully it helps.  I’m not sad, but I have an ache for home that is taking a while to go away, maybe it won’t.  It’s just enough to remind me that I miss them without making it crippling to me in my daily life.  There’s always a little reminder that I am here and they are there.  It’s not bad, I’m okay, honest.  It just, it wears me thin sometimes.

My families have taken me to some of the coolest places here in my mind.  I've been to the Kyushu National Museum, the Science Museum in the area here, I have been to the mudflats, the best hot springs in the area, a flower convention, many a festival, many a shopping trip, a Pokemon center, and many other places.  I appreciate it because it shows me things I could have never found out on my own.

There are also moments of random sweetness or gestures I didn't expect from them that throw me through a loop that they really do care, that they mind if I’m happy, sad, or tired.

My host sister made me a bento that was Santa themed for school close to Christmas.  I opened it and was shocked to see something I’ve only seen in pictures.  I received a Totoro and Cat Bus plush for Valentine’s Day.  I adore them.  I’ve been given small amounts of money while we go out to a new area so I can buy things for my Rotary Blazer.  I have been given pin upon pin for my blazer, it’s always a safe gift that never fails to make me smile.  It’s like their goal is to make me smile.

They joke, they prod, they laugh, and they try their best in every way to make me laugh, smile, and make some noise with them.  I’ve had one Rotarian who I’ve had a past of goofing off with come up to me one night at a banquet.  He and I had a bit of a poke war for a few minutes before I started to jab him in the side to make him flinch and he returned the favor.  That same Rotarian and I have run around on our outings as a Club just goofing off.  I have a Rotarian, the club leader this year, who always finds me and makes sure I’m okay and we joke and laugh.  It’s nice, that they care.  That I, the strange girl with little understanding, has been taken in by all these older women, men, and their families.

It’s strange and wonderful all the same.

If I ever have a problem that I think I really do need help on, I can come to them.  I can rely on them.  That’s big to me.

So yes, I miss my family back in the U.S., but I’m in love with my family here.  That’s my biggest problem.  It will hurt to leave them, it will hurt because no one back home will really have an understanding what these people mean to me.  I don’t blame them, it’s really a thing only other exchange students can understand.  Bonds forged under the adrenalin and pressure of living daily life in a foreign environment changes the depth of those bonds over a very short amount time.  It’s like welding two pieces of metal together.

Returning home is me putting strain on that section of metal that is used to meld the two pieces (read two worlds) together.

I’m not giving up on my world here, but I have to leave it behind for a little bit to be able to come back.  For me to be able to see my family here, my extended mess of a family that I really do love.

As much as I want to go home, to be back with my family, I don’t.  I didn't expect to be drawn in as hard as I have, to be as charmed as I am with my life here, and to be as loved as I have been so far.  It just takes me back to think that when I first landed here I didn't think I would end up with this mentality.

My host sister and I talked about this the other day actually.  She described it to me that I have a very Japanese soul in that sense.  She has seen foreigners that couldn’t make it work, who couldn’t deal with the differences, and she has seen people who have made it their living being away from home like this.  I like her explanation.  A piece of me I didn’t know I had woke up here in Japan and really likes the style of life.

My family here has shown me a lot of Japan, but they have shown me the side that not many others can see if they just travel here.  It’s daily life.

You cannot walk up to an exchanger and ask such an open ended question.  “How was so-and-so-country?”

I could sit and tell stories for weeks on end, and still I feel that it wouldn’t do it any justice.

I live here.  I truly live here.  I have family here (I label them as my family because I’ve never been one to be picky over blood),  I have friends here, I have a life here that is fairly stable, and I am living.  I am not just existing, I am living my life.

So ask me that question and I’ll just smile and say, “It was good, really good.”  Because no matter what else I say, I won’t be able to explain to them what it really meant to me.  I can’t explain to them what I am learning and have learned.  I can’t explain to them how it changed my view of the world and humanity itself.  I just can’t because there aren’t strong enough words in the English Language to describe how I feel.

I will miss my families.  I will miss the random cuddles from the kids.  I will miss the smiles and easy laughs as I make a quick joke that actually makes sense.  I will miss looking out my window and seeing the neighborhood come alive in the mornings.  I will miss the feeling that even though I am so disconnected I am tethered.  I will honestly miss this crazy life, this life that seems to want to pull the rug out from under me, and this crazy life that seems to be happy enough to keep me pushing the boundaries of what I am comfortable with.

This is a big off topic, but it just popped into my mind.

“Make practice like war, and war will be like practice.”

This has been practice for my life, my life as a college student and beyond.  Practice for becoming an ‘adult’ in the eyes of the world.  This has been the hardest experience in my life but the harder the experience is, the more you grow from it.  Life back home will be easier than ever if I let it be that way.

The world back home isn’t as scary as I once pictured it.

Sure there are many things I need to learn, but I think I can make it work.

Back on topic!

I really appreciate my families because I feel that this exchange would have been… well I can’t even imagine it without these people.  RYE is a chance of a lifetime, but it’s these people, people who take you in without really knowing who you are, that make it the magic that it is.

So thank you.  I feel that I can never thank you enough.  Thank you for putting up with me needing more sleep than an average person because some days I am just too overwhelmed with language information and have to sleep off the headache.  I thank you for putting up with my need for a decent schedule in the morning and that I am sometimes disgruntled when it’s broken.  I thank you for allowing me my ‘me time’ so I can cope with whatever it was that may have happened that day.  Thank you for letting me show you what the world looks like through my eyes.  Thank you for explaining how your world works because although very little truly surprises me, I am still lost some days.  Thank you for letting me rough house with your kids.  Thank you for trusting me enough to watch after them on occasion as well.  Thank you for treating me as a functioning human who can take care of her own basic needs without any help. 

Thank you for being guides, guardians, and surrogates to me while I figure out my place in the madness.  I can never thank you enough.

 See You Soon
また近いうちに
Mata chikaiuchiniou

On Feelings of Magic

Magic

Everything in Japan seems to be alive in its own way.  There is something about Japan that breathes life into old legends and myths.  They live on even after the modern world has begun to replace the old ways.

Some areas of Japan cling to the old faiths and make them a daily part of their lives.  My house is such a place. 

There are deities on selves high in the kitchen; one is to the God of Fire and one to the God of Money.  Both are there to help protect the house from all back spirits and welcome in the good ones.  There are Buddhist alters next to a Shinto one in the main living room.  Every day these are prayed to and new offerings are given to them.  To watch over the old and protect the young.

One of the most interesting religions I have ever come across is Japanese Shinto.  It is fascinating to me in a way that is hard to word correctly.  Everything in Shinto is given a spirit; a spirit that you could unthinkingly anger with simple actions.  The God of the River would be very angry with you if you were to block its path, and the spirit of the animal you are eating would be insulted if you weren’t to thank if before you were to eat it.

It’s things like that, that thankfulness for everything, that I think shaped the Japanese into the people they are today.  There are plenty of papers written by far smarter people on how Shinto and how the growing of rice shaped the Japanese people has the culture formed.  I really like the house I am currently in because of the mixture of religions in it.  I like studying religion, but Japanese Shinto, it’s purely magic in a sense.

I understand the stories of how demons would roam the nights, how a god could pin a giant carp to the bottom of the ocean, and how all the stories seem to have a life of their own.  Japanese folklore is colorful in every sense of the word.

I studied cultural anthropology in high school as just a fun class, something that I could spend an hour a day relaxing with.  It explained to me how many religions are a way for people to explain the unknown to themselves.  Why does the sky light up and create those ground shattering noises, when does the earth move at seemingly random times, how do the mountains fog in a way they seem like they are on fire.

Early in the morning I can watch wisps of fog rising from the mountains.  It was and is, one of my favorite things to see here.  I love the strangeness of the weather that surrounds me.  The mountains have my imagination.  Sometimes the clouds hang low and cover the tops, sometimes the rain clouds swallow them whole, and sometimes I can see them clearly in the afternoon light. 

I am in the middle of a bowl of mountains filled with rivers, forests, and nature in strange places.  There is an uneasy balance between them that sometimes shifts to favor one more than the other.  It creates beautiful weather patterns and things that I have only seen in pictures.

Rains storms here, tsunamis really, are powerful.  I can understand where the belief that the gods caused it.  It’s something else to see the awesome force of nature at work.  The thunder above that backlights the mountains, the puddles so deep on the road that they swallow them whole, and the feeling you get when you can feel the boom of thunder go through you.  Just plain rain storms have an added edge to them, I can’t really place why, but I like to watch them when I can.

Festivals too, have a magic to them.  I love Japanese festivals and going to shrine to see the sights.  I feel like the air there is charged with something, maybe the human spirit.  Japanese traditional festival music sounds a lot like heartbeats to my ears.  The thrumming of the drums and the high pitches of the flutes.  There’s something in that music, maybe history, which gives it the edge of what I would call magic.

Maybe it’s just my fascination with the history and beauty that this area has, maybe I’m just imagining things, but it’s something that pulls me back to Japan.  I waited three years to feel it again and I can say it hasn't let me down once.  It had drawn me to the mountains, the temples and shrines, to the common sights I saw every day.  Now that I'm back, I'm looking for those sights again, those feelings, that ambiance of sorts.  To the people I am surrounded by, it is their culture, their world, and their history.  To me, as an outsider looking in, I see the beauty, the mystery, and just flat out wonder of the world I live in.

It is as alien to me as I am to it.

I like how uncomfortable it makes me on occasion.

Magic lives in Japan.  I think this time away from home has taught me that even back home, there is a kind of magic.  Maybe magic is the wrong word but it’s the one that I feel suites in best in my vocabulary.

Japan, you take my breath away, you know.

See You Soon
また近いうちに

Mata chikaiuchini