The End Is Just Another Beginning

Dear Readers,

As of today, October 11th at 11:26am, I am officially ending the posts to this website and migrating. It has been a good year on Kyoto Kanji, but as my Fulbright year has ended, so too must this blog. But do not despair! If you would like to continue to read about Japan and my adventures in East Asia, please change your bookmark to soycube.
Thank you for your support this year and I hope to read comments from you in the future.
Laura

Awkward Pauses

I have now met up with approximately twenty friends from my life before Japan. It's sad, but I can judge just how good of friends we were from the ensuing conversations. Of twenty:

Three wanted to hear everything. It was just like I had never neglected to email them for a year.
Five wanted to hear highlights and to ensure that I was happy.
Ten were satisfied with the "How was Japan?" "Great!" exchange.
And two had to be reminded I was in the room.

But there were others who also surprised me with the sincerity of their remarks, despite the brevity. There's nothing like time away to put life and friends in perspective.

Issues I Can't Handle

Returning to the United States is depressing. Let me tell you why. In Japan, I am a tall, white, not skinny person. But that's okay, because I am surrounded by short, unhealthily skinny Japanese women who do not eat. I don't worry that I don't fit into the clothing or I take up twice as much space on the sidewalk because the attitudes toward body and appearance in Japan are crazy and unrealistic.

However, I come home to the US and all of a sudden there are people who look like me wearing all sorts of skimpy, stylish clothing and somehow it fits them. Why are the white people Asian-size skinny? I go into a store and try on some of that style clothing on only to find that the size I used to wear has been reassigned a number three sizes larger and looks a whole lot ridiculous.

How is that the US as a whole has a major obesity problem, but all the clothing I try on is too small? And don't tell me, oh Laura, you've probably put on a little weight from eating all that rice. Oh no, it's quite the opposite. But seriously, most people go to Japan and become upset and depressed that they can't fit into tiny Japanese sizes. I come home and hate it that I can't find a decent pair of pants in my size.

So I wonder, what exactly is the weight problem in the US? I think it's a double-edged sword situation; the large are getting larger and the small are getting smaller. And those of a stuck in the middle are just screwed.

Beantown Tours

For me, Boston is a city filled with memories. There are quite a few places that I frequented or happened upon during my four year residence here. For the past two days I have been reliving these memories and their backdrop. Wherever I go I get the eerie sense that everything is the same and everything is different all at once.

I started out this morning in the North End. My friend Damien and I went to see if the Big Dig construction had been finished. It wasn't, but at least the quaint Italian neighborhoods are no longer obstructed by enormous elevated highways. We stopped in at Old North Church where we both learned, to our surprise, that Paul Revere himself did not climb that steeple and light those lanterns. No, he delegated that duty to the steward of the Church, Robert Newman, who was arrested for his small, but important, part in the Revolutionary War. I couldn't help taking a picture of the pews which were built with high walls, presumably to keep in the heat during cold winters. I believe these pews could be considered the forerunners of the cubicle.

After consuming the most decadent chocolate brownie I have ever eaten, courtesy of Mike's Pastry, we strolled down to the waterfront, admiring Boston Harbor on a foggy morning. Fog is something I feel like I don't experience in Japan very often. Somehow the contours of the land around Kyoto only allow for the intake of humidity. But fog in Boston covers the unslightly construction and transports the city back a few centuries to when there were no skyscrapers or shiny glass buildings. In the midst of white vapor, Boston once again becomes a colonial town.

Wandering around downtown, I began to feel one of the major differences between social interaction in Japan and the United States. In Japan, when I pass someone on the street I immediately avert my eyes and stare at the space directly next to them, and they do the same. It is very rare to meet anyone's eyes. Here, I am disconcerted as one after another people look me over and meet my eyes as I walk passed them. I don't know whether I should be looking back or looking away.

As the day wore down, I turned back toward Chrystina's apartment in the Fens. I admired the brownstones I love so much and took a picture of an intersting colored one. Maybe someday I'll come back to Boston and live in a restored brownstone. Who knows?

I knew something had to be weird

I walked into the Louisville, Kentucky airport to hear this announcement:

"Passengers who have not done so, please do."

And then, I walked to my gate, A14. I walked past A11 and A12 and immediately proceded to A14. The Louisville Airport does not have a gate A13. I thought these superstitions disappeared a long time ago.

Changes

You may not think it's awfully short, but I got ten inches cut off. This is the shortest my hair has been since I was three years old. When it's all dry and curly it falls just past my shoulders.

Sourthern Hospitality

Louisville, Kentucky is a city on the southern bank of the Ohio River. It is home to Churchill Downs of Kentucky Derby fame, the largest Victorian architecture historic district in the country, and my good friend Jill. Jill lives in the historic distric in a three story, six bedroom, original hardwood floored, nine fireplace, soon to be restored historic house with her Egyptian cat, William. William likes to attack his toys and your hands with vigor and then apologize by curling up on your feet while you're going to the bathroom.

I took a leisurely bike ride around the area this morning and was awed by house after magnificent house built of solid brick and limestone with expressive arched doors and columns. Old Louisville is a beautiful place. The people are real friendly-like too. I got three hello's and had a little conversation with an aspiring author on my tour this morning. Even just across the river it seems that southern hospitality is alive and well.

Surprise suprise

Today I did something that I told every single person I have ever met that I would never ever do. But you'll have to wait to find out what it is.

* A cookie to the person who can guess.

Country Mouse returns home

This weekend I took a trip out to the countryside of Indiana and Ohio, where houses dot the expanses of corn, soybean, and wheat fields.

It was my cousin's birthday, and her family took her to an Amish restaurant for dinner followed by a buggy ride. I passed on the dinner (which everyone said was delicious) and arrived just in time to hop up into the little three person buggy for a short jog down the road. Dave, the Amish grandpa who was driving, told us little jokes and let my cousin drive. It was nice experience. There are quite a few Amish in the area near Fort Wayne, and it was good to meet a few in person.

Most of the Ohio relatives came over for my cousin's birthday party, and I got to catch up on all the news: who's had another baby, who's bought a house, who's engaged...I tell you, there is something in the Ohio water that makes people get married and pop out the babies before the age of 23. As an Indiana girl, I'm planning on holding off until, say, 30. This doesn't make the grandparents happy..

Anyway, it was a nice weekend. I loved the fact that I could drive down the road and there were no mountains anywhere. It was all so open and unconstricting. Actually, the other day there was a storm passing and the clouds settled on the horizon in such a way that made it look like I was back in Kyoto walking down the street toward a huge wall of mountains. For a second I was scared that it had all been a dream. But no, the drying corn stalks in the fields are still rustling in the wind.

The Truth Hurts

For quite some time now, I have been a Japan enthusiast. I come home and I tell people, "Japan is great!" I write on this blog, "Japan is so much better than the US!" And in many ways, I completely believe this. Even coming back to the US for awhile and eating the food, which is half the price of food in Japan (except tofu), and driving the cars on big wide roads where there are no mountains to block the view, I am glad that I will go back to Japan. Because I like living there.

However, in my time on vacation, I thought I'd do some reading about Japan that I don't get to do so often in Japan. So I went to the library and checked out some books about the history, culture, and society of Japan, just to see what other people were saying about it.

And I found this book - Dogs and Demons: Tales from the Dark Side of Modern Japan, by Alex Kerr. Mr. Kerr is a well known author on Japan, and I thought he'd come out with a new book on old stories or something. But no. This is truth. This is mind-boggling, fear-inducing truth. I am almost scared to return to Japan. Why?

Japan cements in rivers and builds dams because they need to use money.
Japan hasn't updated their toxic waste policy since the 1960's.
Japan's banks are bankrupt, but in order to save face, they stay open.
Japan's nuclear power plants have safety procedures that involve people looking through windows to see if everything is "ok."
And there's so much more...

I thought the US was worse than Japan.
Everyone thinks that Japan is on top of technology.
I think we might have all been fooled.

That being said, I still like living in Japan. I just think I'll be buying bottled water, instead of drinking out of the tap from now on. And not living near a nuclear power plant.

What moment in time?

I thought that after having been in Japan for one full year my culture shock in coming back to the United States would be pretty severe. Suprisingly, it really hasn't been. Other than the driving and speaking English all the time, things seem pretty comfortable. I was trying to figure out why this might be, and I believe I've come up with an answer.

The last time I was in Japan I hung out with American friends pretty often, but we relied mostly on the Japanese way of doing things. This time, I knew my way around Kyoto; I knew where I could buy cheap foreign goods, I knew how to cook them, I knew where to get English language books, and I spent more time with American friends. I think that even this little extra bit of my home culture mixed in to Japan made it easier for me to adjust when I got home this time.

Of course, there were exceptions. For example, this weekend was Fort Wayne's annual Johnny Appleseed Festival. The last festival of the summer, this two day even marks the apple season with the celebration of pioneer days in Indiana. All of the things being sold are hand-made crafts, everyone selling things is dressed up in settler costumes, and most of the food is cooked over fires. It had been a good five years since I had been to this festival, and I was struck with such an odd feeling of being out of place - not only was I in the wrong country, I was in the wrong time period!

In any case, I've been home now for five days and I am competely adjusted to the time, the food (mostly), the driving, and the English speaking on television only startles me for a second now.

Seasons change

When I left Kyoto the temperature was a steamy 90 degrees F. Arriving in Fort Wayne, it was only ten degrees cooler. Three days later, however, the temperature has plummeted to 59 degrees. I had forgotten that fall comes much sooner to this area of the world.

I'lll be doing this again tomorrow

I've been complaining to my mother about how Americans use so much energy, particularly gas, when all they have to do is walk a little. And so today, I decided to park the car and do some of my errands on foot. It turned out to be a confidence boosting experience; in the ten minutes it took me to walk from the Post Office to the Library, I got whistled at three times.

Home, Sweet, Home

For your information: If you ever have to chose between flying JAL or Northwest between Japan and the US, by all means, fly JAL. It's not that Northwest is bad, it's that JAL is so much better.

My twelve hour flight home was non-eventful. That is, it was downright boring. Eight hours into the flight I had already finished my book and magazine and watched all three of the inflight movies. What do you do with four hours of time on an airplane when you aren't allowing yourself to sleep?

So now I am back in the US. People here are bigger, less polite, more to the point, and nosier. The land is flat and there are no mountains to be seen. Cars drive on the right side of the road.

My mother took me out to lunch.
-I forgot that such a thing as taking your leftovers home existed.
-I forgot that tipping is necessary.
-I tried to take the bill to the register on the way out, which is how it is in most restaurants in Japan, but my mother gave me a strange look and paid the waitress at our table.

This country is going to take some getting used to.

We are prepared for Takeoff

I'm leaving in fifteen minutes for the airport.
I'm just going to pack up my computer, haul my stuff down the stairs and wait for the people to come and pick me up.
Am I ready to go home? I think so.
Am I worried whether all my stuff will be here when I get back? A bit.
Am I dreading twelve hours without my own personal screen on the seatback? Absolutely. Dang Northwest Airlines and their main cabin movies...

My friends are famous

The director of the Japan Fulbright Commission, David Satterwhite, a.k.a the man who gave me money, was on BBC last night commenting on the effects of the Japanese election on Asian business.

I am always astounded when people I know are on tv, especially on BBC world television. Apparently, I know some people in high places.

Clarification and Explanation

Looking back on my last month of entries, I realized that I never clearly explained what it is that I will be doing in the near future. Although many of my readers are also frequent recipients of emails from me, some of you may be wondering about what this "leaving, coming back" thing is about.

Therefore, "Laura's Plans for the Future:"

1. Sept. 13 - Nov. 1 : The U.S. - Indiana, Ohio, Kentucky, Boston. Visiting, reminiscing, catching up. Interspersed with studying.
2. Nov.1 - Dec. 4 : Japan - Intensive Japanese study in preparation for the highest level of the Japanese Proficiency Japan.
3. Dec. 4 - Feb. 10 : Japan - Intensive study in preparation for entrance exam into Kyoto University's Graduate School, History Department.
4. Feb.10 - Mar. 1 : Waiting for results of said test.
5. If I pass, I will be in Kyoto for another two years until I have comepleted the master's program.
6. If I do not pass, I have no idea what I will be doing.

All plans subject to change, except for returning to Japan on Nov. 1. That's a non-refundable plane ticket.

Sayonara Sale

Today I had my last lunch with the last of the Kyoto Fulbrighters. Katie and Dave leave tomorrow for adventures in South East Asia, and I leave for home.

I'm kind of in a weird position when it comes to leaving. My friends have all been dealing with packing, massive accumulation of things, turning of utilites, closing out accounts, etc. In all fairness, I should be doing these things too. But no, my house and all the things in it will stay as they are. I have closed no bank accounts, I have not boxed up one item.

The fact that I am coming back fairly soon makes the job of leaving quite easy for me. In a sense, I guess it makes it easier for my friends too, who can dump off all the stuff they can't take back with them at my house. As my house is already a suppository of years of left behinds, a little more can't hurt! And so I gained bookshelves, a kotatsu, dishes, cleaning supplies, food, plants, books, and all sorts of randomness. So while everyone else is busy packing, I am busy sorting out what they gave me.

I think it's odd for all our friends too. It is highly unlikely that they will see Katie and Dave again anytime in the next two years, but I'll be back in two months. And yet, we're leaving at the same time.

Anyway, this is a meandering post, as it reflects a meandering thought process: I'm leaving, but I'm not. I'm packing, but not too much. I'm bringing presents, but if I forgot something, there will be chances for more. I want to go to my favorite places "one last time," but I doubt they will have gone out of business by the time I get back. It's an odd feeling.

Accomplishment

Today was my debut as a member of a semi-professional music group. I participated in a concert of traditional Japanese music as a member of my koto teacher's studio group. We performed the piece "Yugao," with koto, shamisen, bamboo flute, and kyoko. I can't really say how we sounded, since I was concentrating so hard on not slipping around on the borrowed koto's strings, but I think my mistakes were not horribly obvious. We'll see when I hear Dave's recording of the event..

Anyway, I feel proud of being the only foreigner performing, in a yukata I made, and a mere two days before I leave the country. As my koto teacher said, "It's a great memory to have a made."

Where do they come up with these uniforms?

As promised from my day at the beach, here is a picture of a Japanese lifeguard on Kobe's Suma Beach. Particularly note the lettered spandex and the beanie hat secured with elastic.