Japan_Bound
Thursday, September 01, 2005
On Our Way . . .
The past few days in a nutshell: On Tuesday night Jess took me for tempura shrimp because I've been craving it for months and love it and had never had it in Japan before that. He didn't eat at that place though because he was saving himself for a night of hard drinking with the boys, which he had and then some. I think he rolled in at about 8 o'clock and is now looking rougher than I've ever seen him. All haunted with black circles around his eyes. But he did what he set out to accomplish, which was to experience and pack in as much as possible right until we leave. Today, after only a few hours of sleep, we were up and at 'er yet again. We had to cancel our phones, sell my bike (I actually got teary walking away from my little red racer - can you imagine getting teary about a bike - I'm definitely losing it), pack and take care of alot of miscellaneous stuff. Then at 6 we met Jesse's boss at L.A. Mart, our favorite pasta joint in the 'hood. After that he drove us to two really beautiful places in his car; the first was a spot overlooking all of Kyoto, so we got to see our city all lit up one more time, and the second was Lake Biwa in Otsu (Shiga Prefecture) - I'd been there with Ali (remember the picture of her and I drinking straight out of our wine bottles?). It was so nice of him to do that for us. Then we hit two bars and eventually ended up drunk and melancholy, at which point we all decided it was best to head on home. Currently we are running around getting the garbage ready to put out, doing last minute packing etc. It's 2 and we have to get up at 8 - the landlady is coming by at 9 to get the money for this month's utilities. Then at 11 a cab is coming to pick us up and take us to Kyoto Station, from which we'll catch the Haruka train to Kansai Airport. Crazy stalker student with whom we had lunch is going to be at the airport to see us off - she's actually very sweet and it's so nice of her to take the trouble to do that (it's a very Japanese trait, seeing people off at the airport -- very supportive, but I know it will make me cry. Which is probably a good thing because I've been needing a good cry and for some reason haven't been able to produce one. I'm a jumble of nerves and emotions waiting to explode. I bet you're really looking forward to seeing me now). So that's how we spent our last 2 days in Japan. And now, in just a short time, we'll be hurtling through the air in a metal tube on our way to hug you - it's nice to know you'll be there on the other end.
Reflections . . .
Well, I've been trying forever to think of something to say for my last blog entry. Specifically, something eloquent to encapsulate how I'm feeling and how I feel about everything I've experienced. When I was preparing to come here, many people told me the Japanese culture is a difficult one to penetrate and that the people can often seem cold or stand-offish. I think I now understand both more and less about the culture, but have met some of the most gracious, kind and generous people one could ever hope to meet. Japan is a land of contradictions; all cars have GPS navigating systems but people in shops still use abucuses, and little old ladies decked out in full kimono can be seen talking on the latest model cell phones, for example, but my overall impression is that it's a culture like any other, striving to maintain harmony between tradition and modernity. And doing a damn fine job of it. I've had the best of both worlds, first living in the bustling craziness of Osaka, and finally living in Kyoto which is as traditional as it gets. I've seen the largest wooden structure in the world, experienced a huge earthquake, stood at the Hiroshima Peace Park and wept with people from every country of the world. I've tried new foods, met amazing people, learned a new language, and posed for a picture with the maiko by whom I am so fascinated. I've been served tea in the oldest temple in Japan, stood at the top of the Sky Building in Osaka and had my breath taken away. I've navigated my way around so that I now know Osaka and Kyoto better than the city where I grew up. I've laughed, cried, learned, grown and changed more than I ever thought possible. I've become more independent, more patient, more thoughtful and more open-minded. I am utterly changed. And now that I'm leaving I can sit down, and in my quiet moments, recognize everything I'm taking away with me and everything I'm leaving behind. And I wouldn't trade the piece of my heart that's staying for anything in all the world. Because, strangely enough, I find that I am more whole now without it than I have ever been before in all my life. Now I'm on my way back to all that's both familiar and now unfamiliar too. I'm sad. And scared. And so greatful that I had your love and your support; knowing you were there cheering me on and delighting in my experiences as much as or more than me is what made being away for 2 years possible. 2 years. 2 whole years of my life. And they flew by as if they were a dream. The only thing making it easier to leave is knowing that, when I wake up, it will be your faces I see.
The past few days in a nutshell: On Tuesday night Jess took me for tempura shrimp because I've been craving it for months and love it and had never had it in Japan before that. He didn't eat at that place though because he was saving himself for a night of hard drinking with the boys, which he had and then some. I think he rolled in at about 8 o'clock and is now looking rougher than I've ever seen him. All haunted with black circles around his eyes. But he did what he set out to accomplish, which was to experience and pack in as much as possible right until we leave. Today, after only a few hours of sleep, we were up and at 'er yet again. We had to cancel our phones, sell my bike (I actually got teary walking away from my little red racer - can you imagine getting teary about a bike - I'm definitely losing it), pack and take care of alot of miscellaneous stuff. Then at 6 we met Jesse's boss at L.A. Mart, our favorite pasta joint in the 'hood. After that he drove us to two really beautiful places in his car; the first was a spot overlooking all of Kyoto, so we got to see our city all lit up one more time, and the second was Lake Biwa in Otsu (Shiga Prefecture) - I'd been there with Ali (remember the picture of her and I drinking straight out of our wine bottles?). It was so nice of him to do that for us. Then we hit two bars and eventually ended up drunk and melancholy, at which point we all decided it was best to head on home. Currently we are running around getting the garbage ready to put out, doing last minute packing etc. It's 2 and we have to get up at 8 - the landlady is coming by at 9 to get the money for this month's utilities. Then at 11 a cab is coming to pick us up and take us to Kyoto Station, from which we'll catch the Haruka train to Kansai Airport. Crazy stalker student with whom we had lunch is going to be at the airport to see us off - she's actually very sweet and it's so nice of her to take the trouble to do that (it's a very Japanese trait, seeing people off at the airport -- very supportive, but I know it will make me cry. Which is probably a good thing because I've been needing a good cry and for some reason haven't been able to produce one. I'm a jumble of nerves and emotions waiting to explode. I bet you're really looking forward to seeing me now). So that's how we spent our last 2 days in Japan. And now, in just a short time, we'll be hurtling through the air in a metal tube on our way to hug you - it's nice to know you'll be there on the other end.
Reflections . . .
Well, I've been trying forever to think of something to say for my last blog entry. Specifically, something eloquent to encapsulate how I'm feeling and how I feel about everything I've experienced. When I was preparing to come here, many people told me the Japanese culture is a difficult one to penetrate and that the people can often seem cold or stand-offish. I think I now understand both more and less about the culture, but have met some of the most gracious, kind and generous people one could ever hope to meet. Japan is a land of contradictions; all cars have GPS navigating systems but people in shops still use abucuses, and little old ladies decked out in full kimono can be seen talking on the latest model cell phones, for example, but my overall impression is that it's a culture like any other, striving to maintain harmony between tradition and modernity. And doing a damn fine job of it. I've had the best of both worlds, first living in the bustling craziness of Osaka, and finally living in Kyoto which is as traditional as it gets. I've seen the largest wooden structure in the world, experienced a huge earthquake, stood at the Hiroshima Peace Park and wept with people from every country of the world. I've tried new foods, met amazing people, learned a new language, and posed for a picture with the maiko by whom I am so fascinated. I've been served tea in the oldest temple in Japan, stood at the top of the Sky Building in Osaka and had my breath taken away. I've navigated my way around so that I now know Osaka and Kyoto better than the city where I grew up. I've laughed, cried, learned, grown and changed more than I ever thought possible. I've become more independent, more patient, more thoughtful and more open-minded. I am utterly changed. And now that I'm leaving I can sit down, and in my quiet moments, recognize everything I'm taking away with me and everything I'm leaving behind. And I wouldn't trade the piece of my heart that's staying for anything in all the world. Because, strangely enough, I find that I am more whole now without it than I have ever been before in all my life. Now I'm on my way back to all that's both familiar and now unfamiliar too. I'm sad. And scared. And so greatful that I had your love and your support; knowing you were there cheering me on and delighting in my experiences as much as or more than me is what made being away for 2 years possible. 2 years. 2 whole years of my life. And they flew by as if they were a dream. The only thing making it easier to leave is knowing that, when I wake up, it will be your faces I see.
