Between a Rock and a Wet Place

I'm getting really bad at blogging, aren't I?

In short, things are coming together and falling apart, in the usual fashion of life.

The air is slowly being taken over by the familiar scents of summer, or "the scents of my arrival in Japan." This goes for all the sensations - humidity, lighting, food flavors, inconveniences...it all takes me back to the first month of my stay in Japan. It's quite a trip, perspective-wise. Mostly it's encouraging, because summer is easier and more exciting in Japan, just like back home. It's nice to see things come full circle too, though it makes me sick to my stomach to think about the next knote in the circle: another winter.

Seeing things come full circle means clarity. Feeling the same things all over again draws attention to the things I don't feel. The anxiety, the foreigness of my surroundings, and everything else. All the stuff I've gotten over. Overall I'm much better acclimmated, which is awesome, but this sucks too. Life feels better, but also less lustrous now that the day-to-day is not rewarding, it's normal. I have to try a lot harder to get satisfaction. Yet on the other side of the same coin, I don't have to try as hard to avoid distress. This is no longer a trip or an adventure. This is life.

On a side note, it's a little weird having school in the summer, I suspect I'll feel like I never got a summer when it's all over.

In other news of daily life and acclimation, timelines are something I'll never get used to. Ever. As much as it embarasses me to be late, I just can't wake up in the mornings. I am always late, and usually wet. Often it's because it rains 4 days a week, but even on the other 3 days, I don't have time to blowdry my hair after a shower. I know it's kind of unprofessional, and I suspect it might be even less professional in Japan since no one takes showers in the morning, and yet it's a habit I can't shake.

As far as other pleasantries go, I also realized today that I never bow. Like never. If I meet someone or if someone bows to me other than the service industry bow, I reciprocate, but probably there too I am lacking in grace. And it's probably not like, "She never bows, that is disrespectful," it's probably the more dangerous, "I get the feeling she is proud and not grateful." It's one of the subtle forms of communication that a culture takes for granted and doesn't even think to allow for exceptions in foreigners. Like how we feel about eye contact, always allowing a little independence, and sharing personal information as a form of bonding. I should address the bowing issue...though I think it's not so bad, because I usually stay out of bow-worthy situations. My life as of late has been largely very casual and/or foreigner oriented.

Speaking of cultural differences, hipocracy is not one of them. That's universal. I think I've mentioned the trash system, and I've also mentioned how everything in Japan comes in a million layers of wrapping. I mean, each culture is allowed their pitfall or two to cancel out all their good eco-movement behaviors, I'll admit that. What I don't like is when people chastise me for doing something "wasteful" then turn around and be even more wasteful.

Some of my Japanese friends were cooking at my house, and when the onions were being cut we could hardly breathe for the sharpness in the air. So I turned on the faucet. I heard that running cold water helps while cutting onions. After about two seconds they just turned it off and sneered at me, saying it was wasteful. Didn't ask me, didn't hint, just turned it off and made a blunt comment. Very un-Japanese. But then when it came to drying the dishes, they used papertowels! They used almost a whole roll of papertowels to dry the dishes. And when I told them that was the last of the paper towels, they switched to kleenex. Kleenex! They also used plastic forks, a separate fork for every dish, AND they dried THE LETTUCE with paper towels after washing it. 1) Must you dry lettuce? 2) With paper towels and kleenex? That's just absurd, especially when you consider the fuzz they leave behind!

In hindsight, I should've said something. I was just too dumbfounded to do so!

I guess that's another cultural observation - in Japan people are really fussy about wasting water (except for onsens and running both a bath and a shower every night - though multiple people use the same bath). However, they put about a million plastic and paper wrappings on everything. If you buy a sweet, it usually has at least 2-3 wrappings. If it's expensive it could have as many as 8. Snacks are always individually wrapped in different portions and sometimes they're even bagged in multiple different groups after being bagged individually. I'll admit that sometimes it's really convenient, and I can see why someone would want a wrapping in some situations (the wrapper that keeps the rice away from the seaweed so it doesn't get soggy? kind of nice) but most of the time it's like "I don't even know what this wrapping was for, and now that I've unwrapped the damn thing there is more plastic wrapping than my lap can hold."

I'm sure the U.S. is not winning any awards for combating wastefulness, so I think what really bothers me is how everyone is so quick to judge me first...I only judge now out of defensiveness lol

I guess you can tell my weekly priorities based on my blog themes, eh?

I was tooling around late at school one night during winter vacation. The only people obligated to be there were me and the Vice Principal, everyone else was allowed to take "home study." Still, there was a teacher or two and one was staying particularly late. When he told me that it was silly for me to stay any later, I asked him why he was still here and it launched into a conversation. Apparently he advises the brass band and there was going to be a great big joint concert between them and another school, and when I expressed interest he gave me a ticket.

I'm glad I'm at the point in my life where going places alone doesn't scare me, and I'm glad that I'm at the point in my Japan adjustment that you can give me pretty much any destination short of the middle of the ocean and I can figure out how to get there.

So last Saturday the concert happened and I navigated my way to the Culture Center on the other side of town. It's funny using trains, especially to unpopular destinations, because for about an hour before a special event, the level of crowdedness increases and you can pretty much assume everyone on the train is going to that event. And so it was with the concert.

It was really funny seeing the students in the audience wearing street clothes - with the exception of a handful of students I went to karaoke with last summer for International Club, I hadn't seen a single on in street clothes in 6 months! They even wear their uniforms on weekends and late at night. That's not the case for all Japanese High Schoolers, but in a school as serious as mine, not only are they always studying and at school (where they are required to wear uniforms at all times, no matter when or why they're there) but they're damn proud to wear them. Wearing a high school uniform is a mark of impending adulthood, wearing a prestigious school uniform is a badge of honor, and in general, even adults in Japanese society sport uniforms now and again because in Japanese culture it's much more valued to be a part of the group than it is to look fashionable.

And speaking of Japanese culture - going to this event really helped me break a barrier. I didn't talk to too many people, the set-up of the concert didn't lend itself to that, but of course (as the only non-Japanese) I was noticed and my presence was appreciated. Yet perhaps even more of a success was how it made me feel. Japanese culture is largely tied to putting up a blank front. There is 0 feedback in many of my daily activities, which as an "emotional American" drives me nuts. I have a really hard time relating to people when they never express an opinion, never make a face, and never share anything about themselves. You can imagine the cultural and pedogogical problems I have in class, let alone my personal life. Anyway, the concert was very different.

Japanese culture puts up the wall because it expresses self-control and a consideration for others - a noble cause, but different to my methodology. When they put on a show, however, that solidarity and attention to detail expresses itself in magnificent ways. The concert was very UW Marching Band-esque. The show was incredibly dynamic, and of course, whenever the students had to yell something or dance around they had absolutely no problem with it. Everyone was confident, in perfect form, and enthusiastic. EVERYONE was doing it, so NO ONE faltered. In my opinion, this is the highest form of success that can be achieved in a communal culture. To get this kind of energy out of a group of Americans, let alone high school aged Americans, requires extreme dedication and motivation. I feel like in a culture like Japan's, all it really requires is an initial sense of obligation and then the fun follows naturally. I hope my saying that doesn't devalue their efforts, because my message is that it may start in a dubious clone-like place but ultimately as a result it's capable of going much further than any other mentality.

So yes, I learned something about Japanese culture and the benefits of communalism, but I was also able to finally put a human face on about 100 students and their families. When you see people yelling and dancing and lit up with life, it's very difficult not to see their humanity. I felt a large burden of disconnect wash away while I watched my students drop their instruments, don tinsel headbands and animal ears, form a conga line, and start singing "Samba Bear."

Sitting in that music hall I forgot I was a stranger in a strange land. I wasn't just an American fly on the wall of Japanese life, like how I usually feel. I felt like a teacher, a community member of the City by the Sea, a student of Japanese, a capable listener whose language skills weren't overtaxed, and a real person. I guess the cliches are right, music really does bring the world together. And to think, in the U.S. music programs are usually the first to be cut from school.

For the last few days I had quite a slump, but now that I’m feeling more and more grown up in my work and more productive at home things are getting better. Yesterday kind of got off to a rocky start. I forgot to set my alarm and I woke up 5 minutes before I was supposed to be in class. I ran to school and ended up being about 20 minutes late to class, but the teacher hadn’t even told anyone and in the end I think the only people who noticed were him and Batman (because in a frenzy I asked Batman for advice on what to do now that I was late). Apparently there are no repercussions, because everybody likes me so much lol

The Speech of Impending Doom is coming up yet, but I’m really enjoying making the powerpoint. It’s a lot of work, but the more work I put into it the more pictures I have to talk about. It’s nice to have desk work again for a change. I have a lot to do but I’m a lot less stressed than I’d been all week prior to today.

Let me say, I love Wisconsin. Looking at this powerpoint, I’m proud of my home. I miss it, I can’t wait to visit it again, and I relish all of its bounty – cheese, forests, lakes, vegetables, sitting on the shore in the grass. As cliché as those things seem to be, and as typical as they sound to a Wisconsinite, they’re really nice things to be surrounded by and you don’t realize it until you’re not surrounded by them.

I would KILL for a cheese platter right now (I’d kill two people for it if there was a sausage row included). All the years I passed them by on buffet tables, going for the exotic and gourmet, and now nothing sounds better than colbyjack on a cracker. I actually had to take breaks from my powerpoint this morning because the food was taunting me.

Being in Japan has really helped put Wisconsin and my personal culture into perspective. If you are someone who feels so blended into mainstream culture that you think you are cultureless – you need to go abroad. I always felt like my white, working-class, “Christian,” heterosexual existence gave me a little of a culture wash-out. I always knew that wasn’t really true, and yet I didn’t really believe it until now.

I have three points to make in this vein.
1) I like American culture. I didn’t think I did, but I really do. Underneath the materialism, the selfishness, and the fat, there are good things. And let’s face it, the materialism and fat come from a good place too – a desire to live well, to laugh and eat and enjoy life with the people around us. Overindulgence is troublesome, but I’d rather be a jovial and bountiful culture or an emaciated or bland one any day. Of course, there are a million and one wonderful things underneath these three points that I’d taken for granted up until now. I don’t think I need to itemize the list though, considering it’s what half of my blog is about.

2) Thinking about the grander scheme of American culture and trying to make sweeping generalizations about America in order to satisfy the Japanese folks who ask me questions, I’ve realized that nothing is as straightforward as it seems. We all have our own cultures within our families, and I adore mine. We have a good thing going, partially because of where we’re from and what we do, but mostly because of who we are.

3) Wisconsin culture is natural and wonderful and it really sets us apart. It’s largely the same for most Midwesterners, but I’d be born and raised in the Midwest again given the choice. It’s downright charming and I feel like we have nature but also enough civilization and accomplishments that we don’t have to be ashamed for being country folks. We are the Forward state, even if sometimes forward means forward by canoe or forward into a field of corn shaped like a maze.

While I see a lot of travel, maybe a few more stints abroad and graduate school out-of-state, I view Wisconsin as my base and I think it always will be.

I’m very much looking forward to my summer trip home when I will attend the Farmer’s Market in Madison, eat outside in my backyard, and wear cute strappy summer dresses and big sunglasses – all things I can’t really do here, even in the summer.

I've already mentioned how strange it was being so instantaneously comfortable when I got back home, but what's stranger yet is coming back here to Japan and still being comfortable.

It makes sense that I'm comfortable, considering that I lived here for five months already. What doesn't make sense is that it feels like home; the familiar glow of my living room lamps, navigating the sloping sidewalks, and hearing the constant drone of transportation announcements in super formal Japanese. Not like more of a home than the U.S., mind you, but the U.S. is so familiar that I can't really notice its familiarity even if I want to. Leaving Japan and coming back to it drove home the realization that the last five months really happened - I really do live here! - it wasn't just a dream or even a vacation. In my sleep deprivation and homesickness though, I have to admit that last night it creeped me out a little feeling so used to Japan; I've never had equally active worlds in two places before. My life is my life no matter where I spend it, and that's a lot to wrap one's mind around.

I spent a considerable amount of time staring at a gray wall in Narita airport waiting for my plane to Sapporo, and one of the thoughts I came up with during that time was that I'm not afraid of anything in Japan anymore. I'm really not. Something clicked back home and now not even Japanese is so scary, nor is daily life in Japanese. I know I've hit a benchmark with this trip home, I can feel it. There were so many things that intimidated me and caused hesitation before, but now I understand that risk-taking here has very low risk and very high benefit. I see great strides in my immediate future.

Which is good because I know it's my own fault that social interactions and making mistakes bother me so much. I know part of it is just my personality, but there's no reason for me to get scared and frustrated simply because I set myself up with unrealistic expecatations. Other people who know a lot less Japanese than I do have no shame about it though, so why should I feel bad even after slaughtering entire sentences? (which I never do anyway!) It's time to put on a thick skin and act like a normal human being.

I was a little worried about coming back, especially at the airport when going back felt like nothing more than impending doom separating me from my beloved Wisconsin. Then, hearing Japanese on the loudspeaker, I was reassured. The excitement of foreign language came back and I remembered that I'm living an adventuresome life. The voice of the woman on the loudspeaker triggered an echo of loudspeaker voices I'd heard before, from my first plane ride to Japan when I understood almost nothing during a layover to Thailand, to sitting in O'Hare with other new JETs about to embark, to countless 10 minute trainrides by myself downtown, to obligatory trains across the island on business trips, and to voluntary and daring walks through change-overs in three different stations on my way to seeing my friends in places I'd never been before.

Already as the day goes on and I get bombarded with the familiar sensations of daily life, I feel better and better about being back. A lot of the negativity is gone and it's almost shocking how easy of a transition it's becoming. Every once in a while I get a twinge of pain when I think of a person or thing I won't get to see for another 6-7 months, but it's nowhere near the torment of being in a place you don't want to be. I think what makes it all okay is the fact that technology keeps me so connected to the people I love. It's not perfect, but for a short-term stint it makes it bearable to be apart.

Just like before I came for the first time, the scariest part about going to Japan was trying futilely to figure out what it would be like before I got there.

My brain was back home before my body, even though I was still in Japan. Focusing on my Japanese life was pretty difficult in those last few days as I began planning my day trips to Madison, shopping for Christmas presents, and frantically passing emails back and forth with my parents.

Sure, I had all these ideas about what types of reverse culture shock I might feel - maybe I'd miss the hospitality of Japan, maybe I'd feel too ordinary in my old environment, or maybe I'd think the people were too rude or too aggressive. I thought maybe I'd feel out of place, or at least really confused by all the changes to my life. I considered the possibility that I might not be as loved by my loved ones as I was when I lived in the U.S.

Upon arriving, however, I quickly felt what I least expected. I felt like I'd never left. Granted, I was pretty tired and disenchanted after 12 hours on a plane, but seeing my parents wasn't overly emotional and it just kind of felt like I'd been at school for a few weeks.

While a little lack-luster, this was a good thing. It was very comfortable and I didn't have to waste any time with confusion. It also reminded me that I'm still the same person even after so many new experiences. It soothes me knowing that this life will be more or less waiting for me whenever I want to reclaim it. It's been great for perspective as well, I can see exactly how complete of a life I'd built here in the U.S. and it's a good feeling.

There are other benefits as well. I find myself with few obnoxious ego-centric stories, in fact, even less than when I went off to college. I've only really talked about my life to answer questions, and at that I find myself very mellow. There's not even a temptation toward that braggy excitement that's usually onset when someone starts talking about a big life change. Of course, this makes it really easy to interact with the people around me and I think it reassures all of us that I'm still me. It helps me focus on the things that matter, like my relationships and common ground with the people I love. Similarly, it would seem like living abroad even creates less of an emotional gap than going away to college did. For example, I never worry about whether living in Japan will make me unable to relate to my parents, whereas that's still a very real concern regarding my university experience.

Part of this mellow transition back to the States is because I've done a good job of keeping the people close to me up to speed and so there are little surprises, but I think mostly it stems from how natural my life in Japan feels. It's another thing that marks the difference between visiting a foreign country and living in a foreign country. When you're going into it like a permanent thing, it gives everyone involved a much easier story to conceptualize than a prolonged stay. There's less guesswork and high-running emotions. For that reason, I can't stress enough how different studying abroad and living abroad is. I've never studied abroad, though I wish I'd been able to, but when I talk to former study abroad participants, we have a lot of the same experiences but very different conclusions about them. I can't quite pinpoint how, but I know the differences are very distinct.

Unfortunately, the routine vibe of it all frustrates me a little because I feel so connected, which makes me want to accomplish things, and yet I know that I can't do anything to advance my life here because it's futile when I'm only here for 2 weeks. Ultimately I do wish things were a little higher energy and flashy sparkles, but in the end I'm confident that this is best for all of us. Time and communication here passes easily and for my own well-being I've been sure to keep up with Hokkaido online just like I kept up with Wisconsin when I was in Japan. I think it's important to emphasize in my own head that both places exist. I'll get more out of this experience if I don't pretend like I can turn one life off in order to focus on the other.

It's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sorry.

After over a month of computer drama, I started to run out of blogging steam. When you combine that with the fact that life is starting to feel very normal, you get a lack of entries. My computer is back now though.

Not much has changed. I'm still doing awesome things, having ridiculous conversations, and meeting interesting people. Good things still happen, bad things still happen, and boring things still happen. I'd say the major changes are that 1) I'm closer to some people in neighboring towns than before, 2) after 4 months of stress, culture shock hijacks my day sometimes, and 3) my Japanese is better.

After so much time on a Japanese computer, I'm having to remind myself that the apostrophe key is next to the pinky finger and not shift-7. Though to do the Japanese keyboard justice, it makes sense because they don't use apostrophe much and in that respect the @ key is much more appropriately placed for today's technological world.

The first major holiday at home, Halloween, has passed and I ached but I survived. Thanksgiving might be rough, but I'm going to keep busy, and I'll be home for Christmas so that's like a goading carrot. I'll be home before I know it, there's only 5 weeks left and I have a lot to do before then.

I've been spending a lot of time making comparisons lately because it's the only way for me to wrap my mind around my life. In the time I've been in Japan, 2 seasons have passed. A friend of mine has completed a full semester of study abroad. I've finished 2 seasons of the Big Bang Theory. One of my cousins, who announced her pregnancy shortly before I graduated, will have a baby who will breathe U.S. air before I will. I've popped 2 bike tires. I've reread nearly two textbooks from my Japanese class at UW and completed 1/4 of a correspondence course through JET.

I have not, however, used all the soap left over from my predecessor, who hoarded beauty products like no other (though she never used).

Yesterday’s international club ended up going well. As it turned out I saw the delinquent and all her friends hanging out outside the classroom, but when I arrived they said hello but instead of coming in with me, they left after I’d entered. I don’t know what to make of that, but I don’t really care because it meant only 8 first year girls and I sat and talked for a half an hour and it was great. They’re the ones who try and they’re the ones who have good attitudes. The more I think about it, the more I don’t think I was being sensitive or there was a language barrier. I think that girl’s just rude. She could have said the exact same thing to me and if she’d had a pained smile on while she said it, it would have been a completely different message.

You know, talking about these places and things and knowing none of you know anything about them is really strange. Though there is a rare one or two of you who have been to Japan, most of you only know what I've told you and what you've seen in pictures, and furthermore none of you have been in the City by the Sea. This is weird to me, so many of you are very close to me and have always known all of my business (I don’t keep secrets). So now that I live here, everything in my being says you should know my environment and you don’t. How can you not know about the world I live in? How can there be so many worlds going on at once that have almost no overlap with the next?

It's so weird to think about fall happening in Madison right now. What the heck, I've missed over 2 months of life in the USA. For a while, part of me was all hurt and sad and weird about the idea, but mostly I’m fine with it because I'm alive here too and where there’s life there’s Life. It's just weird to think about. I've never been so far away for so long. There is some nostalgic mourning now that it’s fall though. Don’t get me wrong, Japan has its own autumn traditions that I look forward to like eating nabe and looking at leaves from the shrines, and it even has some of the same traditions as we do, especially since the weather is almost identical here in Hokkaido as it is in Wisconsin. Overall though, I just feel like something is missing when I’m not getting pumpkin spice chai, walking ankle-deep through leaves on Lathrop, and seeing my mom in orange sweaters.

But I can still do something to help you gain perspective. First, look at all my pictures. Second, watch something. Be careful though, because there are a lot of outlandish descriptions of Japan and the more “authentic” you think something is, the less authentic it probably is. There is a strong element of ancient tradition here but mostly it’s like any other city on Earth. More or less, I think life here is like the anime Whisper of the Heart. This film is not too melodramatic (other than the occupational aspirations between the main characters) and not too media washed with the perfection of television. Even the clutter in the main character’s house is pretty realistic – since Japan is not very materialistic on the whole, almost nothing ever matches. I can't find a black carpet here, because NO MATTER WHAT you buy here, it only comes in pink, blue, flower, and kitty. Seriously, not even white or beige most the time. Anyway, still I'll admit that the mess in her house does go a bit overboard, so clearly that’s nowhere near the norm and that should be kept in mind too.

But the anime is not far off, because you really do meet people with random ass talents, and various old people really do want to share their skills with you, and there really are all sorts of unmarked businesses tucked around the city. (Theresa's boss is a master shamisen player, The Canadian's landlady is a local legend and his neighborhood is named after her, CR's favorite teacher can sing enka, Josh's neighbors are international travelers who are fluent in English, the 10th grade president of the International Club at my school is also a basketball god - though you'd never guess it by looking at him, and the bar around the corner from my house has been voted Best Yakitori in all of Japan for two years running).

It's a magical place in a very ordinary way.

And as I go through life here, it's wonderful, but not as mystical as you think it is when you're reading people's blogs and looking at pictures from their FB pages (or reading manga, for that matter). This is not me in an anime where we all get up and do some dance moves during class and where the ikemen going for a lay-up at the taikai festival sparkles as he slow-motion jumps over his opponents head. This is me trying to get kids to speak English instead of dream about rock concerts, and this is me watching kids play basketball in the gym.

And yet, isn't that how it always is? It’s not a “Japan-romanticism-problem” because everywhere you go things are always romanticized on TV. TV and movies and books make life look soooo damn cool, but you can be living the exact same life and because it's yours, you're like, "this is nice, but it's not THAT." But in reality, it is. It’s exactly that, just without the proper framing and foreshadowing. I wouldn’t give up the magic and inspiration of media in a million years, but I do recognize that it creates a perspective problem and it becomes difficult for us to respect or enjoy something unless it is perfectly lit and viewed from the right angle. The grass is always greener on the other side, right? Just try to remember that life really is romantic for everyone. I may be rockin’ it out in Japan, but other than a ton of learning and culture adjustment it’s not too much different from me rockin’ it out in the States.

Well, actually there is another way to solve the problem of romanticism. Rather than bring down the fantastical, you can embrace the everyday…And I am a master at this, since in my head I insert my own sparkles on the bishounen playing basketball.