Thursday, May 30, 2013

Re: Culture Shock

It's been a week since I left Japan (although it feels like much longer) and I'm still adjusting to some cultural differences. Surprisingly, I haven't been muttering Japanese under my breath like I thought I would be; instead, here is a list of some of the things that have thrown me for a loop this past week:

High Counter Tops: In case you didn't know, on average, Japanese people are shorter than Americans. This means shorter kitchen counter tops, sink counter tops, etc. In Japan, if Momo stood up on her hind legs she could neatly prop her nose against the kitchen counter top and almost snag some food. In America, it would take a Momo + a half a Momo to do so.

Lights: In Japan, lights that have a pull string usually take three pulls to turn completely off. Here, it just takes one pull. I may or may not be inadvertently turning my lights off on and then off again.

Politeness: I'm willing to wager there is no country in the world with politer service than Japan. Needless to say, American cashiers, waitresses, etc. don't even come close.

Hearing Multiple Languages: Is that... Spanish? Vietnamese? French??? I haven't heard those languages in AGES!

Sending Mail from the Mailbox: You mean I don't have to go to the nearest combini (convenience store) to send mail? I can do it from my door step?? What I still don't understand is, if Japanese mailmen deliver mail to your mail box, why can't they also pick up mail to be delivered. Mystery.

Spices: It took me only one trip to one local supermarket to find every spice that I needed (dried dill, chipotle chile powder). Astounding!

Car Parking: I'm still getting used to not backing up to go into car spaces. And the whole driving on the other side of the road shindig.

Beers: I never realized American supermarkets held so many different kinds of beer. I guess I'm going to have to branch out from Asahi, Kirin, and Sapporo (although Sapporo will always hold a special place in my heart).

Premier Status Loss: Not really related to culture shock but still a surprise none the less (I'm so spoiled!!). Goodbye shorter lines and earlier boarding.

Wednesday, May 22, 2013

The Return

Current Location: California
Mood: さみしい

It has been an intense 8 months in Ishinomaki, Japan, where I have learned more about the human condition and its struggle with self, others, and God than any other time or place in my life.

Personally I've gained so much.

It's interesting that prior to traveling to Japan I honestly thought that I would spend most of my time in Ishinomaki alone. Since I didn't speak Japanese I believed I wouldn't be able to make friends. At the time I didn't see this as a bad thing. Instead, this isolation would heighten my powers of observation. Like a true anthropologist I would be able to observe and sometimes participate, but never lose that objectivity befitting a researcher. But of course my plans went the way of the best laid plans of mice and men.

Within a few weeks all objectivity went out the window. Instead, I was immersed in a strange land (Japan) with a new way of thinking (Christianity) in an organization where more often than not I had no idea what I was doing.

If all of this was at times overwhelming, what kept my head above water was the new people that I met and the friendships I made. (Funny how the one thing I thought I would have none of these last few months ended up being one of the biggest things I took away from this experience.) Two people in particular, V and T, were people I grew to depend on for anything--a good laugh, a drink, a cry, a heart-to-heart.

I know both of you are reading this, so I just want to say I miss you & thanks for being a defining force in my life. Because of you, I have changed for the better. I know we'll meet again. But even while we're not together in person, know that you will always have me to lean on! (onpu)


Tuesday, May 14, 2013

A Year In June: The Things She Could Never Say


             “Why did you decide to stay here?” Mina asked. Normally she tried not to pry, but this time she felt compelled to ask.
            June swirled her can of beer around like a glass of wine and thought for a split second before answering. “It’s because, I love you,” she said, surprising herself. Yet, she was sure these were the right words, her true sentiment. She swirled her can a few more times and inadvertently started to count the sustained silence in her head. She was cut off at seven when Mina responded.
             “Thank you,” her voice was breaking, “for those words and for staying here. I know it has been difficult to be with me these last few weeks. I will explain when I can. But I want you to know that you are--,” her voice strained dangerously as she tried to verbalize her conviction, “—you are precious to me.”
            “Zen zen, it’s not a problem at all.” June said, as she leaned back on the porch she and Mina had built. The night air was still a bit nippy this last day of May, but as she lay there, gazing at the moon that was slightly obstructed by Mina’s back, she couldn’t help but smile and feel that everything was finally just perfect.  

Monday, May 13, 2013

A Year in June: Chapter 23


May 31, 2012
Dear June-kun,

            I hope that this letter gets to you first, before you hear it from anywhere else.
I want to tell you that I am going to die.
            I failed at becoming a stronger person. Instead, I became a person who always needed someone else—I became a burden. I realize this now. For a long time I depended on Joseph. Even the idea of Joseph was enough to help me overcome tough times. But Joseph was false. He was not who I built him up to be. I believed him and he tried to take advantage of me. This is a violation I do not think I can forgive and something I will never forget. I tried for the last month, but I couldn’t. It broke me. He was not my savior; no can save me, I realize this now, because I had already died so many years ago.
            I know you care about me, but I did not want to become a burden to you as well. You are smart and caring. You have infinite possibilities in your future. I was lucky to be your roommate. Tanoshikatta desu. Please have good memories of our time together.
            I regret the day I met Joseph, but I am glad that I met you. Joseph gave me a hollow existence, but your goodbye gave me peace. It is with peace that I write this and with peace that I will leave this world. I hope you will not regret our time together—I know I never did.

Forever,
Mina-chan

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Saturday, May 11, 2013

A Year in June: Chapter 22


            Mina’s bike grinded to a halt at the bus stop, kicking up dust that made both of their eyes water. June was reluctant to get off the bike. She missed the feeling of the wind in her hair and Mina’s comforting presence at the handlebars. She was already feeling nostalgic, but was determined not to show signs of weakness. They stood side by side facing the road, watching the wind swirl the dust at their feet.
            “June-kun, can I ask you for something?”
            “Sure, anything.”
            An old man on a bike pedaled slowly past. Mina and June nodded their heads politely.
            “Can I have your home address?”
            June laughed. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to be asked. “Sure.” She wrote down her address on Mina’s hand. “Don’t lose it—I expect mail!” she said, trying her best to be upbeat.
            “You will get mail” Mina assured her. The bus came soon after. There were no tearful goodbyes or plans to visit or promises to always be friends. Perhaps they were too old or too jaded for those types of farewells. But as June queued up to board the bus, Mina suddenly grabbed her hands and squeezed hard. June did her best to suppress a wince at the force of her grip.
“Goodbye, Juniper.” Mina said, uncharacteristically formal.
            “Goodbye, Minazuki” June replied in kind.
            With that Mina let go of her hands and a slow lopsided smile—the first one June had seen in ages—spread across her face and brightened her countenance significantly. June was captivated by this transformation. This is the Mina I knew, the Mina I know, she thought and started to reach for Mina, but the old lady behind her was getting uncomfortably close to bulldozing her over. Instead, bowed apologetically to the old lady, waved at Mina, and boarded the bus. By the time she got to her seat and looked out her window, Mina was gone.

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Wednesday, May 8, 2013

A Year in June: Chapter 21


             Boston in June. It was a hot muggy day, about a week after her flight from Narita to Washington DC and from Washington DC to Boston. Her hair, normally already a spastic mess of curls, was untamable. She tugged at it as she entered the cool office building for her fellowship follow-up interview.
            As she entered the building, her cellphone dinged with an alert sound set for her international messenger. She hadn’t heard the sound for weeks, not since she left Japan and stopped contacting people internationally. Who could be contacting her from overseas? As she pulled out her phone it rang out again, and again, and again. Bewildered and avoiding the questioning stare of the receptionist she bowed apologetically, instinctively mumbled “Sumimasen”, and went to a chair in the corner of the lobby. Once seated, she proceeded to read her flurry of messages.
            They were from Minamisanriku. From locals and relief volunteers who were still in Japan. People whose numbers she had gotten and only contacted once or twice, usually to give them their restored photographs.
The messages came in a mix of Japanese and English, but one thing was clear. Minazuki Saito was dead.
           
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Tuesday, May 7, 2013

A Year in June: Chapter 20


             The night before June left for America she returned the house keys, but Mina insisted that she keep the wings as a souvenir. Mina decided to go to bed soon after. However, when June had finished gathering everything from the living room and went to the bedroom her roommate was still awake.
            Mina cleared her throat as though to start speaking but stopped herself. Eventually she ventured a question, “Did I take my pills yet?”
            “I don’t know” June answered honestly. The question had taken June by surprise; it was a question Mina had never asked before and June was almost tempted to ask her if something was wrong. But she stopped herself. Even if something was wrong there was nothing June could do to help now that she was leaving the next day. “Sorry” she said instead.
            That night June dreamed of a porch awash in moonlight where she said the things she could never say and everything was just perfect. Mina did not sleep at all.
             
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