Sayonara July 8, 2008

When people ask me what I can say about working in Japan as an English teacher, the first thing that I think is 90 degree bowing skills. Although I have not perfected that art just yet, I am skilled at 1 degree bowing, which is when people pull over someone’s parking lot just so you can drive through the tiny road that fits only one vehicle at a time. Or the 5 degree bow, which is the one that you give to those that say “ohayo gozaimasu” to you but you have no remote idea of who they are. But the real skill that I’m becoming a master of is the 30 degree bow, which I reserve only for people that have gone out of the way to help me.

It seems ridiculous that I would start a post about gradient bows but I think I need this humor to bring me out of the fact that I will have to say “sayonara”, or goodbye, to everyone I’ve met these past two years. I need something to alleviate the solitude and the pain that will come from having to say farewell and not “see you later”.

My tenure with the JET Programme will come to an end in 22 days. That also means that I will have to leave the people and the students behind, never knowing what would become of them. Maybe I’ll stay in touch with some of my teachers, maybe time would affect our relationship, maybe I’ll come back to visit. This country, despite the language barriers and the bureaucracy, has given me many opportunities to grow and to learn. Yes, I’ve messed up so many times, like the time that I was supposed to get to a speech contest at 8am and ended up 30 minutes late. Or that time that I crashed my car against the mountain and called my supervisor to help me. There were so many times that I wanted to quit, pack my bags, and go back home (wherever that is). But I stuck through it, at times listlessly, at times with a stubborness that only a mule could have.

It’s beginning to sink in. I don’t know if the friendships that I’ve made here are going to continue on strongly, but I know that our circumstances brought us together and that our similarities have helped us bond at an incomparable level.

I want to post personal thank yous to the people that have made my experiences in Japan possible. It will take me a while to blog my thoughts about my friends and students, but I will try to summarize these two years in pictures so you can see how I feel. Soon, that will be soon.

I leave you with “Little Love Song” by sodagreen, 2008 Best Band winners-Taiwanese Golden Melody Awards. This is a love song to all the people I’ve met, worked, traveled and loved in Japan.

There is still something left July 4, 2008

I don’t know what to feel or how to feel. I blame myself for not being more understanding. Gandhi says that once you start having suspicions about a person’s motive then everything that person does is tainted. Perhaps it was because of this thought that made me wary again. I am selfish, selfish of my time and of my space. I try to place myself in that person’s shoes – what if my social life depended on other people’s help? It’s so hard to transcribe myself into that role but I have to try. That way I will not alienate her. But I can’t help but feel resentment. Can you make a concerted effort at understanding my predicament? You have time in your hands, you don’t worry about maintaining a car, you don’t have to worry about paying for your

education, you don’t have to move back, you don’t have to worry about finding a job, you don’t have to worry about being too tired when you drive, you don’t have to worry about rising gas prices, you don’t have to worry about planning.  You don’t have to worry about those things but you assume I don’t have to, either.  And when you call and I say no, can you put yourself in my shoes and understand why I refuse?

Perhaps I am trying to look at what good is left in you because now, all you do, is tainted. I want to understand and be in your position. What little sincerity you can muster… perhaps even that, I won’t even accept because I’ll consider it fake. I have to remove myself from you because I still believe that I will see you as a friend, that you are friend. I have to put myself in your shoes and understand your issues, too. Because that’s the only way that I’ll be able to preserve the friendship that I hope we have.