the Leaving stage

I'm leaving in a little over five weeks. My emotions are much more mashed and scrambled than they were when I came here almost a year ago.

I'm finally here, really absolutely here. I belong here. My friends note that it feels like I've always gone to Toba and that it surprises them sometimes to remember that I'm a foreigner. They could have given me no greater compliment. English teachers don't call out to me in the halls anymore, nor do train officials gawk at me as I board trains, and even store clerks don't blush through their broken English to tell me their prices. I understand anything and it hardly ever surprises me anymore. I can watch TV with my family, or pass a math test, or follow my kendo Sensei's barked instructions, or pass my friends notes during home ec. Nobody equates my actions to my American-ness anymore; they equate it to my personality. I went home with a friend the other day. My friend had asked her mother if I could come over, but forgot to tell her I'm not Japanese, so she was really shocked when I was introduced. My friend forgot to tell her mother I'm not Japanese. It just slipped her mind. Teachers yell at me to fix my tie and warn me that tardiness is not acceptable. When the teacher tells us to remember there is no school Monday, nobody turns around to make sure I understand. I never want to leave here.

I can't wait to go home. I've learned what I came here to learn, got what I needed to get, and am ready to leave.

I love it here. I hate it here. I miss my family. I don't want to leave my host families! I can't wait to be normal again. Look, I'm normal here. I'll never fit in here. I've accomplished so much this year. I can't wait to go home. I dread going home. I won't fit in after this year. I'll be able to speak English again. I won't be able to speak Japanese anymore. I'll forget everything. I sorta forget English. I love English. I love Japanese. I've worked so hard this year to learn it. I've barely done anything this year. It was a waste. I got so much out of this year that I'll never be the same again. I can't believe it's been a whole year. Has it already been a year? Have I really been living in Japan for a year? I love Japan. I can't stand Japan. I hate how nobody thinks. I don't want to go back to America. I don't want to be in Japan anymore. I love Japanese food so much. I would kill for Taco Bell. I don't want to leave Japanese gardens. I would love to run through a grassy yard. I don't think I'll be able to talk to anyone about this year. I can't wait to tell everyone about this incredible year I've been having. Why did I pick such a late return date? I can't believe I'm actually going home so soon. I'm not really going home. Oh yes you are. Okay, I am. I can't go home. I'm homesick. Of course I'm not homesick, especially not this late into my exchange. I love it here so much. I can't wait to have my wardrobe again. I don't ever want to wear my school uniform school. Can you believe I'll never wear this uniform again? What'll I do without it? Kyoto is so busy and fun and beautiful. Kyoto is so hot and humid and ugly. I didn't make any friends here. I'll miss my friends so much next year. I barely learned any Japanese. I'm so uncomfortable at the idea of English. I can't wait to be able to read store signs. I worked so hard to learn Japanese characters. Everyone respects me for it. Nobody has any idea. I didn't really work hard at all. It was one great vacation of a year. I faced so many challenges this year. It was a waste of a year. It was an incredible year that I wholeheartedly recommend to anyone. I have college to look forward to. I have to go to college. I'll be normal in America. I'll be unnoticed in America. I'll be understood in America. I'll never be understood by anyone but exchange students. Why did I ever go on this exchange? This has been a really amazing, fun, awesome year. I'm so angry that I have to go home, after all the work I've done to adapt. I wish I could go home now. I'm not really sure where home is. It sure isn't here. It sure isn't there. It is there. It is here. What'll I do when I'm not an exchange student? I feel like I'm returning from prison, or that I'm Rip Van Wrinkle or something. Everything will be so familiar at home. Everything's probably changed. I've changed. I can't wait to see everyone. They've been so busy without me. I've been so busy without them. I'm really going home! I'm leaving Japan. I still have a whole five weeks! I only have five weeks, and I'm so busy. Japan is absolutely the best country in the world. I don't much like Japan. I wouldn't mind living here. I don't want to live here anymore. I'll be able to rest when I get home. I'll be so tired when I get home. I have so many expectations. I don't know what to expect. I'm so happy and excited and angry and sad and afraid and proud and ashamed and man, it's a little tiring to harbor all this! It'll be good to get this over with. I hope I never have to get this over with. I wish time would stop. I wish time would hurry up.

I'm sure I'll cry at the airport (probably both in Japan and America), but I'm not sure I'll know why.

Japanese Grannies

Today I went to a nursing home with my class. It was fun, but one of the Obaasans realized there was a foreigner in the group and called every single granny over to gawk at me. I couldn't stop blushing. "Look how pale she is! And she's from far away! And how precious! Her eyes are blue! Look! Look, it's a real foreigner!" I wonder if I'll miss that when I go home.

Completely off topic, but - It's still a long ways away, but I'm thinking the Peace Corps is next on my agenda. Scratch that. College. Next summer I'll spend home, recuperating I hope, and working. Maybe the next summer I'll be somewhere, if I can afford it. And then my next year (Junior year) I'll do a study abroad program. And then I'll graduate. And then I'll do Peace Corps. And then I'll work and get married and have two beautiful kids, a dog, and a cat (but no bird). I'll have a big yard with a swing set in the back and I'll visit my parents every third weekend. And then I'll become a grandmother and then I'll die. Sounds nice, scratch the dying part. I don't know why anyone didn't think of that before.

Excuses for Why I Stopped Updating:

Kendo has recently been level-upped for the big follow-up tournament in July. I've been dragging myself home around 7:40-ish absolutely exhausted.

I've been so so so busy lately. I went to Heian Jinga, one of the biggest temples is Kyoto, and spent a day with my host family wandering through the beautiful gardens. I went to a Buddhist congregational meeting, had my prayer sent to the ancestors, spent two hours copying zen-ish words in calligraphy, heard the chant of the monks as I meditated in seiza, and listened to a sermon that was virtually identical to the ones given at the church down West Street, Morgantown. I toured a place that hand paints the intricate design on kimonos using a process called yuzenzome (which I totally wrote and delivered a report on for my home ec class). I watched fresh sake being made from fermented rice and learned how the tradition became embeded in Japanese culture. I got private lessons on how to put on a yukata by myself, a feat most Japanese women can't do, including any of the women in my four host families. I cheered for my school as we won a kendo tournament in Kyoto and am sweating with them as we excitedly prepare for the tournament in Osaka to determine the champion of the region. I went to a house where a famous revoloutionary hito was killed in a dramatic sword fight years and years ago, and ran my fingers over the marks left on the door frame from that fatal fight. I rode a boat through the Kamogawa River, splashed in the largest lake in Japan (Biwako), held live eels and then ate them (after they were dead and this time, cooked). And I did it all in less than two weeks. Hmm, maybe less than two weeks. I've even had time for school.

With the return date swooping closer and closer, I'm finding myself swamped with activities. Everyone wants to go out with me at least one last time before I go home, show me one last thing, and - oh no! You haven't been there yet?! Lets go ASAP! On top of everything, kendo practice has been upped for the big tournament coming up, so I've been absolutely pooped.

I've got speeches to write, parties to plan, stuff and more stuff to pack, and a mountain to climb. No really. I'm starting the trek up Mt. Fuji (Japan's tallest mountain) on July 8 (which happens to be my 19th birthday) with the other thirteen exchange students.

All this preperation for going home is exciting and I'm looking forward to stepping off the plane in my own country. I'm also nervous and uncomfortable with the idea. And I'm happy and thankful. It's difficult - right now I'm in Japan and I will be for another month and a half or so. I don't want to cut my exchange short by becoming sidetracked with dwelling on home, but I've got a feeling that it might not be being side tracked so much as part of the journey.

Yuck, I'm so tired! It's ridiculous. Have a grand night.

I might fall asleep as I'm writing this

I remember one day at karate, back in America, about two or three years ago now. It was one of Those Days. I came to class needing the workout, though why I wouldn't have been able to say. It was a Thursday, which means two things. One: I wasn't in charge of teaching, didn't have to be there, and probably came to class on a last minute decision (which my mom surely wasn't happy about). Two: I spent the class (and likely came for it) surrounded by some of my closest friends. Scott was leading that day and I was in the Hot Spot. The far right of the first line. There was the rage I get sometimes for no apparent reason. I think it's all of my emotions taking one form at one time, and it ends up as that black black anger. I love it, though usually only feel it when I'm at karate, and even then it's rare. I was feeling it that Thursday and I was dying to sweat. I wanted to be able to dump every single ounce of me onto the mat. We were going at a regular pace and I was thinking "I hope any time now we go so fast I won't be able to keep up, that I'll get that coppery taste in my mouth that is my body demanding water, that it'll feel better than crying. Please let today be one of those days. Please please please."

And then Sensei came in. He hardly spoke that day, except to tell us a story and then to give the orders of what to do next. This is the story he told: "Many years ago, when I was a student of OSensei Premru, he warned us to keep our dojo clean and keep up on chores. Nobody went home until the dojo was spotless and everyone did a chore everyday. One day, he had to leave early and we decided that the dojo was fairly clean, so we left without cleaning. The next day, Sensei Premru reminded us how important the dojo is and how we must have respect for it and ourselves. It was a lesson we never forgot. Right front stance, up." And we got into a right front stance, and then we kicked and then we switched stances and kicked and the orders kept steadily coming and we steadily obeyed. One technique after another after another. At first I felt like laughing because it felt so good and I could feel the rage that I had wanted earlier. It was a beautiful day. I lost my ability (and desire) to think as the effort of moving engulfed me, but I remember he told us to take a break, and I felt like screaming from frustration. It wasn't until I stopped jumping around that I realized I was actually exhausted. And then we kept going and it was beautiful beautiful beautiful. One of my best days at karate.

And then there's kendo. We won a tournament last week, so we're going to a bigger one next month. In honor of this Super Difficult Tournament that we're heading to, Sensei altered our workout routine today. We changed from three kirikaeshi to five. And 100 kaeshi do and 100 of something else I don't remember. He wants kaeshi do to be second nature, so that we don't know how to block the shinai without returning a do. It was a great day. I was tired, but I got about three kaeshi do's in that I was really proud of. That I'm sure would have gotten me ippons (points). There's a difference between slumpy and tired.

I think tomorrow we'll have our little mock shia. I love them. I think I can win tomorrow. I hope so.

The Questions

If you're an exchange student, you probably know them by heart. Personally, I always enjoy answering them as they make me feel like I'm doing something important by being in Japan.
Here they are; frequently asked questions and there frequently answered answers:

1.) What's your favorite Japanese food?

I loooooooooooooooove Japanese. Really really love. I'm talking marriage here, so to choose one favorite is difficult. However, I do particularly like okonamiyaki. And sushi. And crab, though I guess we have crab in America.

2.) What's your least favorite Japanese food?

duh. Natto of course. Fermented (read: moldy) beans that are stringy, sticky, and smelly. Not to mention they taste bad.

3.) And the wierdest?

Maybe raw eel? Delicious.

4.) What are foods you miss from home?

Burritos. In fact, I miss it so much that I attempted to make it for my family using homemade tortillas, canned kidney beans, and improvised sauces. It's a good thing they don't know what they're supposed to taste like... I also miss tuna salad sandwiches (though I'm sure I could make it here) and eating fruits on a regular basis. Here, fruits are so expensive they are usually just dessert and an apple may cost as much as $2.oo.

5.) What's the best thing about being an exchange student?

I'm always learning and it's always interesting. And it's opened a lot of doors for me that I would have never known about otherwise. And it's pretty much awesome.

6.) What's the worst thing about being an exchange student?

Because I'm in Japan, everyone can tell right away that I'm foreign, so when I buy things at the stores or when I bump into strangers, everyone talks down to me. Sometimes I want to scream, "I'm foreign, not stupid!" I don't want the store owners to talk slowly to me because they don't expect me to know the language. And I don't want people to offer me brochures in English or stumble through English when they talk to me. I don't appreciate people ordering food for me at restraunts, and I wish they would at least give me a chance.

7.) Are you homesick?

Not really. Sometimes I remember that my siblings are all getting a year older without me and that makes me sad and sometimes I miss the little things, but I really haven't gotten "homesick."


Oh yeah, I just got my hair cut. I remind myself of my little brother (Christian). I didn't know our hair color was so similar. What do you think? The one with me in orange is the day I got it cut (it was styled and everything), the one with the white sweater is normal, and the one with the flowery shirt is with wet hair, taken this morning.