On the train from the airport to Tokyo

It seriously feels like I never left. Everything feels....SO....normal. Like I'm just picking up where I left off. I still have moments of biting nostalgia, though. Just like seeing streets and shops and stuff. I'm excited to be here. Feels like I'm coming home. 

June 30th 11:20 am - SJC airport

Getting to the airport 4 hours early: not recommended. (But thank you Stefanie for dropping me off!) 

I couched myself in the handicap bathroom and stretched a full 20-minute stretch. (Luckily no one came in who needed to use that bathroom.) I walked around. I wrote in my journal. I ate a smoothie. And now I'm on my phone. With an hour to go 'til boarding. Running on 4 hours of sleep. This vacation is starting! I'm lucky and I hope I get to stay this lucky to have more time off to travel than the average corporate businessperson. One of the perks of being a teacher. 

I guess I'll go walk around some more... 

Summer 2015

Tomorrow I'm off to Japan (again), Cambodia, and Vietnam for a month!

This blog never got closure from when I left Japan last July. It's now about 11 months later. Can't believe I've been back in the states that long! I could have sworn I updated this blog at least once after coming back, but I guess not.

I like my life and I feel decently optimistic about it now. This is a big change from this past fall, where I often felt helpless, detached, struggling to float. My first few jarring months a new teacher, combined with settling into a brand-new life with (mostly) brand-new people, combined with fall and winter's seasonal changes, made staying optimistic a challenge. Even though teaching is still the toughest thing I've ever done, am doing, and ever will be doing, and I still deeply struggle with the fact that I'm not immediately successful at it, I'm proud of the progress I've made and I'm proud to say I am optimistic about going into next year with improvements all around, both in my professional and personal life. I've reached a sort of landing on the way to the plateau of stability I crave. Maybe it will come, or maybe it won't, but I don't but at least I don't feel like I'm about to jump off the edge.

I hope this summer is an island of respite rather than a frantic drive of activity. You know how vacations can be both. I'm traveling during nearly all of my free time this summer (a whole month!), leaving me with about 5 days once I get back to move into my new place and prepare for the upcoming school year. (We start Professional Development on August 6th with classes starting at the end of August.) Whether this is a good decision or a misguided one, time will tell!

Even though I miss Japan in various fantastical and surface ways, and often look at pictures longingly, what I REALLY miss is the people. My friends and relationships. So I'm most excited to be returning to them once more. Most of my friends from my time in Japan are still there. I think slowly over time my friends will leave Japan and my relationships will fade, so I'll have less of a reason to go there. And I know that if I want to see all the countries in the world I really want to see, I cannot spend my summer each year seeing once more a place I'm already so familiar with. But at least for this year, it felt like the right thing to do.

Then, Analiese and I are going to Cambodia for ~5 days and Vietnam for ~9 days. I'm pretty nervous! A lot more planning (and money) has been involved than when I went to Thailand, and I feel more unsure about this trip than I ever have my previous ones--so much less is set in stone, so much more is up to chance, so much more is at stake. But I'm getting better at traveling. And scoring major adult points. Even though travel planning can be super stressful and worrisome, not once do I ever think it's not worth it. Of course it's worth it. Nothing could be more worth it. Especially for me, as an exercise in letting go and letting what happen, will--no matter what happens.

I don't know if I'll really be able to update this thing from my iPhone from the road ('cause I won't have laptop/desktop computer access for most of the time that I'm there), but I'll try to update when I can! Otherwise, expect a crapload of updates when I get back (possibly including pictures although that's kind of a hassle.)

I can't shake the feeling that I've forgotten something or that something is wrong, but I get that before every trip. Whatever happens happens and I will live to tell the tale! Here we go. 

Leaving

I'm leaving in a little less than two months.

I think from the outside it doesn't seem like a such a huge, overwhelming life change, but for me it is. Everything you know, your comfort zone, the comfort zone which has become my life which is Japan, is over.

It kind of sucks that my last few months are filled with thoughts of leaving. There are so many things I have to do. Part of these things are unique to living abroad but many of them are common to moving in general, like canceling utilities. Except I have to do everything in Japanese, which is always added stress. After over 6 months of willy-nillying and procrastinating, I finally gathered up the courage to make a dentist appointment over the phone. I have that appointment next week.

It's ajisai (hydrangea) season again. I'm glad I'm leaving in the summer.

There's a lot that I wanted to do that I didn't do, but just knowing me, no matter what I'd accomplished, no matter where I'd gone or what I'd done, I am certain that I would still be trailing an endless list of places-to-go and things-to-do behind me. It never ends for me. So as it is I am pretty happy with the traveling and doing I've done here. Not to quantify, but: approximately 31 of Japan's 47 prefectures, 4 outside countries (Taiwan, S. Korea, Thailand, Indonesia), a handful of road trips, a handful of hikes and mountains, and soon-to-be Mt. Fuji 2 times.

When I came there was nothing but excitement. I was escaping. I was running to a place of stillness, warmth, excitement, adventure, but most of all, simplicity. An artificially-contained world-within-a-world where things could be a little more simpler than before. I imagined hiking in the misty forest, visiting silent bamboo groves, watching passing uniformed high-schoolers on their bikes, the mechanic whirr of the train passing by. Of course, life was -life- so it was so much more complicated than that, but I have experienced all those moments and more. While a lot of living here wasn't as simple as I dreamt, there is still no denying that there is a sense of suspension about being here. It is transient. It is constantly new, even when it's not new, it still feels new. A road sign. A plant. An interaction. After two years small things still inspire and ground me.

I'm excited for many things coming back, one of which is taking the reins of the supposedly complicated life I left behind, and re-installing it into its new situation. Although I'm tempted to keep saying I'm going "back", there's not much "back" to be going to, and although I'll be in a place I'm physically familiar with, that's about where the similarities will end. I will be a new person, and it will shape who I am in this "old" place forevermore. I can't not be Japan-me. No matter where I am. For the rest of my life. I hope I can get my family and friends to understand that. I'm also excited that I've developed my own, new appreciation and nostalgia for Californian and American things. I guess you could call it a sense of identity. And a sense of gratitude. It took me being able to see my culture from a detached, distant perspective to understand it. I'm happy with it.

Time to enjoy the hydrangea, still mountain paths, road signs, and interactions for the new few months. B-)

Bali

For Golden Week 2014, I went to Bali, Indonesia with my friend Yuka and her friend Hanae.

I surprisingly don't have anything insightful to say.
The Rupiah stretches far, so everything is cheap. Full meals for $3-5, massages for $10/hour, accommodation for $10/night.
Bali is Hindu, with many temples, most of which cost around $1.50 to enter. They let you rent a sarong which you tie around your waist. Unlike at Buddhist temples, your shoulders and arms don't have to be covered, only your legs.
Bali is very warm (and humid) all year round. It's slightly south of the equator (my first time in the southern hemisphere!) It has the most gorgeous glorious nature I have ever seen. Dark green and light green all around, terraced steps of rice paddies ready for harvest, giant trees with root systems sticking out of the ground meters wide, hanging vines, hibiscus, bougainvillea, plumeria, frangipani, lotus, ferns, grasses, banana trees, papaya trees, mango trees. It's a blessing that all this nature and all this fruit is available to the Balinese for them to consume and export cheaply. Bali is a wondrous conjunction of all these beautiful natural resources and a beautifully carefully cultivated culture of Balinese Hindu religious beliefs, dance, art, ceremony. The onslaught of tourism seems to have only corrupted them in the most minimal of ways--an increase of trash and cheap imported goods-hawkers--but for the most part the culture and way of life remains firmly intact.

I sit here thinking about what I really learned from the trip, from any trip, and what made my experience "worth it." Am I really any wiser for having gone? What did I do besides see a lot of beautiful stuff and really shallowly participate in a culture for 5 days? But somehow it is always worth it, somehow my worldview is always broadened in an intangible way that makes it worth it.

Some random memories:

Being talked to and pressured to buy sarongs by Balinese women at stalls near the beach. Of course I could just use my regular, first-language English to talk to them, and they understood me, replying in English. Looking at the patterns, I said "none of these patterns are just right." Another woman holds up another sarong. Dyed into the pattern are the words: "The Bahamas." I laugh and say "this says 'The Bahamas!'" She laughs loudly along with me and clasps my shoulder. I think she, too, grasps the absurdity of tourist goods. Import them from anywhere for cheap, even if the designs aren't authentic, and hawk them for whatever price you can get. Who cares, right?

Our driver, Nyoman's, talks about the spirituality and importance of ritual and ceremony to Balinese people, about their naming system, about the moral impurity of the thieves from Java, about his heartbreak and troubles with his girlfriend. (The latter was especially hard for us to respond to from our backseat spot of only understanding about 50% of what he said.) Most importantly, what he said about money. He said to us "you're rich, you spend money come here to Bali." In my head, the first thing that pops up is "I'm not rich." But thinking about it, to him, how can my wealth be greatly distinguished from the wealth of someone much more wealthy than me? He knows we have enough money to fly to Bali and stay in Bali for a few days. That's more money than he will ever have. He will live a hand-to-mouth existence probably for his whole life. But he's bitter. "It's destiny. Some people are meant to be rich. Some people are not." He believes in karma and reincarnation. He refuses to let the parking attendants give him change for the parking fees-he lets them keep it. He refuses to let us pay for his lunch or dinner. He works 7 days week, canceling important ceremonies for work. His work is monotonous, unchallenging, neverending. But he's satisfied with his place in life and he's satisfied to not be "rich." He likes being from Bali.

Especially on this trip, feeling increasingly disappointed that I can't really be spiritual at the temples. That I look at things and take pictures and try to intellectually understand things, but even when I'm praying, I'm not praying, I'm just pretending to pray. I don't have it in me to pray. I guess the best way for me to think about it is putting a wish out into the universe. I believe in the energy and spirituality of places just because it makes me feel good, but it was hard for me to really appreciate the sacred places in all their sacredness, rather than just for their nature or architecture. To grasp the intangible rather than the visual, the tangible.

Sitting on the black sand beach, collecting stones and trying to skip them into the ocean, as the sun set, creating a pastel gradient from blue to pink-orange-yellow. Even though the beach wasn't great and it wasn't west-facing, we were the only ones there and it was so calm and relaxing.

It was my last international vacation before going home to America. I visited Korea, Taiwan, Thailand and Indonesia. I wish I had had time to do more, but I'm happy with the in-country vacations I got to do while I was here as well--Kansai, Hiroshima, Okinawa. Coming home, I'll be excited to explore California and America more and do some more local travel. :)

Thailand

Just want to get out my thoughts about Thailand while they are still fresh.

Tokyo---> Shanghai---> Bangkok--> Krabi--> Lanta.
Lanta--> Krabi--> Chiang Mai.
Chiang Mai--> Sukhothai.
Suhkothai--> Phitsanulok--> Bangkok.
Bangkok--> Shanghai--> Tokyo.


Oppressive heat. Throw away toilet paper instead of flushing. Insects everywhere, everywhere. And lizards and cats and dogs. Don't drink the tap water.

The warmest ocean water. Absolutely gorgeous jungles of winding looping vines and tall tall trees and spiky trees and fruits and flowers. Bougainvillea, plumeria, yellow wisteria, hibiscus. Banana flower. Gibbons and other monkeys and monitor lizards and spiders and birds. Heat. Coconut shake, mango shake, watermelon shake. Fruit. Skewers. Street food. Swimming in the ocean, jumping up with the waves, riding the waves in and out, while you watch the sunset. Markets markets. "Sawadee ka!" "Khop kun ka!" Temples. Roads with cars and songthaews and tuk-tuks and motorbikes. Oppressive humidity, dry smoggy haze, torrential flood-like rain.


The kindness of almost everyone. People who want money and will, even in their kindness, always do things for money, but it's not rude, it's life, it's survival. Everything is a matter of comfort zone. Everything is a matter of lifestyle and habit. The lax flow of Lanta, the rushed energy of Chiang Mai.

The importance of Buddhism and temples and the way people pray. Kneel with your legs to one side, don't point your feet at Buddha, and make your head lower than his. Monks are respected above all. It's more religious in nature than the pseudoreligious Japanese Shinto-Buddhism combination. (Honestly though I know next to nothing about religion, it's a big black hole in my knowledge bank.)

We did not ride an elephant, take a longtail boat, see a cultural dance/performance show or visit the hill tribes. We only saw Ladyboys once. But I couldn't care less.

Very relaxed and laid-back, the poorness was not as bad as I imagined both in degree and in my comfort level during the trip, although small, Thailand seems big and many people are working very hard to make many things happen, just like in every country. They are proud and protecting their traditions and fighting for their families, friends and themselves. Just like in every country.

Fall In Japan

I think the way Fall is meant to be liked is the way it is in Japan.

Crispy leaves, a chill in the air, apples, warm drinks and scarves beginning to sound good, and glorious, glorious foliage.
It's cooler and more subdued and, surprisingly, fairly rain-free.
It's not my favorite season but I can see why it's many Japanese people's favorite.

Some places I went in fall which are my favorites:

-Ikaho (once with Yurika, once with Shelby, Khim and Shizuka) The stone steps, Ikaho shrine, the deck and walking paths around it...everything is beautiful and crisp. We bathed in Ikaho hot springs, talking softly while red and brown maple leaves fell around us.
-Mount Myougi: A gorgeous hiking adventure. Steep rocks and rock walls with chains, rock arches and spires, narrow footpaths and still-standing rock precipices, all bathed in red yellow and brown leaves.
-Nikko: A winding hilly mountain road with lakes, waterfalls both tall and wide, temple upon temple, bright red bridges and small steaming manjuu stands. A town steeped in history and nature. Of course surrounded in the leaves.

It really is beautiful. And for a while, it is not so freezing.