Oh, What a Difference A Day Can Make

After the shock of it all has settled a bit, I am able to sit and recap the last week. My experience was minor compared to others and my heart goes out to those who suffered. I could never imagine what life was like for them through this disaster.

Friday, the fourth, I’m at the school I teach and my private lesson is canceled. Ryo, is a young guy who works hard to be a successful businessman. He’s the kind of guy that works hard and plays harder. I looked forward to our lessons, not because he is genuinely likeable, but because he is always focused and has shown drastic improvements over the course of the 6 months I had been teaching him.

He dropped by the school to give the ladies a box of Japanese sweets, showing his appreciation. He also shared with me that he scored a 975 out of 990 on the TOEIC test! This test is one of the most important tests for Japanese businessmen. It is an English proficiency test that tells an employer the prospective hire is qualified to do business abroad. If the prospective doesn’t score well on the test, he/she will not be hired, no matter how skilled they are.

I couldn’t help but feel some sense of gratification as his teacher because his score climbed from 700 to 975 during the time I worked with him. He deserves full credit for his accomplishments, and I was proud of his hard work and dedication. That was the moment I understood the reasons why people are teachers. Nothing feels better than seeing the glow of a student’s success.

After Ryo left, I was finishing paperwork when the first earthquake hit. I was used to earthquakes at that point because I had experienced small rumbles frequently the last few months. This one, however, continued more than a few seconds and it became more and more intense. Then, the lights went out. Panic quickly filled my veins. Everyone ran into the hallway and grabbed one another.

For some reason when something remotely traumatic happens I begin to feel displaced, like it’s not reality. I knew I was awake, but I needed to be sure of that. So the only thing I could say was, “Okay, well shit…this sucks….wait…is this an earthquake?” Even though the floor was clearing pounding our feet and debris was drifting like snowflakes, mid air.

We waited out the tremors, lasting a good 45 minutes. It seemed safer for us to be indoors because our building was earthquake proof, at least that was what I was told, but I couldn’t help wondering about the parking garage above us. Is that earthquake proof too? Shortly thereafter, a second earthquake hit. This time, lasting only a few minutes. 

In between the first and second earthquake I grabbed my running shoes, slipped them on and prepped to run at a moment’s notice. Earlier that day, I had bought eggs at the grocery store for dinner that night. As the floor rumbled and people shuffled about, I was overly focused on not breaking my eggs. It was such a strange thing to focus on, but I believe it was my way of nurturing something other than myself. It reminded me of Jr. High when you had to prove you were capable of caring for a small baby by carrying around a raw egg. I guess I would have passed the test in taking care of a dozen little infants.

The walk home was a bit more traumatic than the actual earthquake. I ran into one of my students who said his family lived near where the tsunami hit. He was pale and unfocused and there was nothing I could do. It’s hardest seeing others in pain when you are clearly unable to help.

I lived two stations from work so the walk took me less than an hour. I couldn’t help stopping to pick up chocolate almonds to munch on during the walk home as my form of comfort. I realized how much comfort food actually helps. It was the first time I noticed my body darting through various adaptations in attempt at soothing emotional trauma.

I found out later that day that we had no classes for the next few days. It was nice to have an extra day to spend with my friends. It was the opportunity for us all to get together, debrief our quake experiences and find humor in our moments of panic. We picnicked at the park and drank wine under the sun, reminding ourselves how thankful we are to still have one another. Life in Japan seemed to move on naturally and people were unusually calm despite the tsunami chaos just a few cities away.

Later that afternoon while dining with friends, my Seattle roommate, Heidi, now living in India, texted my Japanese phone. Her message was to “SKYPE IMMEDIATELY!” It was clear something was happening. I hadn’t been paying much attention to the news because the previous day felt traumatizing enough, so I was distant from the follow-up headlines. Because I was an hour from home, I wasn’t able to skype so she sent articles to my phone showing me the nuclear power plant, just north of me, was on the brink of explosion.

I heard a little about this, but Japanese news is much different than Western news. In Japan, the reports stood at, “The nuclear power plant is having trouble. You will all be okay.” Western news stated, “This is the biggest disaster in years! There is no way to predict the impact this will have for the next decade!” I was blown away by the opposition of evidence in emotional vs. non-emotional reporting. I knew the Japanese were pros at being sterile with emotions, and I also knew Western culture dramatizes everything for TV ratings. So, the question I kept asking myself was, “what was true?” and “How can I read between the lines of both sides?”

As soon as I got home, I skyped my friend and asked her to help me sort my options. We came up with two options: 

A) I can stay in Japan. Chances of me being okay are 50/50 and the results of possible radiation poison may show up immediately or many years later. If all this was dramatized for the sake of ratings, I would continue life the way I had been the past 7 months. If worst-case scenario happens and there ends up being a nuclear meltdown, it is likely I will become very ill and increase my possibility of thyroid or other forms of cancer from radioactive debris. 

B) I could return to Seattle and  remain healthy and safe from the worst-case scenario. Worst-case scenario in returning to Seattle is starting over, a new job, and a new life. Heidi ensured me my apartment was still available and I could save on rent until I settle into a new job.

I spent the next two hours calling my American and Japanese friends who were able to give an objective perspective on it all. I even called my Japanese boss around 2 am and said, “Look. Here’s what I’m considering. I need help to figure out what are my rational and irrational fears. If I decide to leave, and if I’m making this decision based on my emotional state, what happens?” She did her best to keep me calm and even suggested activities for me to do as therapy for my worries. I could hear in her voice she desperately didn’t want me to leave without careful consideration. In the end, I hung up feeling more confused as to what to do.

I then decided to talk to my Japanese friend, Mikako, who has always given encouraging and sound advice.  After a lengthy discussion of the pros and cons, I asked her what she would do if she were me. She said something that helped me finally decide, “Essentially you are a tourist here. You make money, but there is nothing binding you here. If you were on vacation in a different country and a disaster happened, would you stay, out of obligation to no one? You would leave. Okay, you lose your job and your visa. So what? This is your life at risk. If I were you, I would go home.”

Suddenly, panic took over my veins….again. “Shit! Fuck!!!” I yelled, but Mikako was used to my ‘street English’ having worked with her under large amounts of stress the past 7 months. “So you will leave?” She asks in the most nurturing voice. And I broke out in tears, knowing this may be the last time I see her.

The answer was clear.

Mikako was very supportive skyping with me all night, talking me through the preparations of leaving. She stayed with me for 4 hours listening to me rant and cry uncontrollably. We talked of how much life has shown me the past 7 months. She pieced apart the changes I went through since being in Japan and focused on the positives of the future. I couldn’t have felt more grateful for the mass amounts of support I received from her and my friends in Seattle. She showed me strength in a situation that would otherwise feel crippling.

So, in 4 hours, I packed my life in Japan and cleaned my apartment the best I could.  Patience was informed of my decision and she came over at 7 am to see me off. She helped me carry my bags to the station to catch a bus to Narita. Because the trains weren’t running to the airport, due to the rolling blackouts, the trip was going to be long and tiring and fortunately some Seattle friends of mine called ahead to reserve a flight for me before making it to the airport.

The first time I saw tension was at Yokohama station. Businessmen lined up for blocks, waiting for trains that were not arriving in its timely fashion. Although they looked like they were patiently cued for transportation, it was the first time I could clearly see stress on their faces. It took 7 months for me to learn the art of body language in Japan and I was finally able to read people I pass without second-guessing myself.

Patience and I began to panic and quickly ran to the bus stop with 3 overstuffed suitcases. We both cried as we said good-bye. She was my rock and my best friend in Japan and I wasn’t sure I’d see her again. I was beginning to realize each ticking hour was pulling away the most important people in my life. 

Loss in small doses is difficult to handle, but feeling stripped of your entire world without control is devastating.

At this point, I still wasn’t sure I was making the right one choice. I was abandoning my friends leaving them to fend for themselves and that, to me, felt unforgivable. I cared about these people so much and wanted to take them with me, but it was out of my control to force any decision on them. I loaded the packed bus and closed the curtain. The morning sunshine was too perky for how I was feeling. Not having slept over 24 hours was affecting my head and digestion, and suddenly I felt claustrophobic.

While on the bus, I emailed my boss a farewell letter. It was still too early to call and keeping her up at 2 am, just a few hours ago, had me assuming she was fast asleep. Within a few minutes, she was calling my phone, nonstop. Japan is strict on cell phone usage while on trains and busses, so I emailed her to say I would call her at the airport. I was frightened to face a decision I knew directly affected so many people.

When at the airport my boss called again. As soon as I answered, I burst into tears. Before she could say anything, I was apologizing, telling her how grateful I am for her help over the last few months and how I’m not sure my decision was the right one, but I had to do something, fast. The words flew out of my mouth uncontrollably.

I was surprised by her response. With empathy she said, “I would have done the same thing.” I stopped, mid-tears and shockingly replied, “Really?!”

We said our goodbyes and I told her repeatedly how much she and the students meant to me. Our goodbye was long and meaningful and I hung up feeling more comfort in my decision.

I felt one last large earthquake at the ticket counter and held onto the counter, telling myself I was doing the right thing. There was no turning back. I was on my way home.

The trip home was restless. Still, having had no sleep for an entire day, I couldn’t rest. I played movies, listened to music, read sky mall cover to cover and doing anything to try and distract me from worrying about my friends. Nothing helped. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I abandoned my friends and left them to fend on their own.  

I lived through the destruction of fires in Florida in ’98 and witnessed the collapse of the World Trade Centers from my school in New York, but all that seemed to feel completely distant in comparison to a week ago. Having to drop a life that became comfortable to me at the blink of an eye without knowing what will happen next really shook up my soul.

A week later, I’m here in Seattle still adjusting to the change. A few more of my foreign friends left Japan and those that stayed are still waiting till the okay to return to work. Many Japanese cities are short on food and water. My Japanese friends have kept me updated on their lives, while trying to be upbeat and positive. I admire them for this. They've been a true example of optimism. 

Now, I still struggle, not only with the time change, reverse culture shock, and the readjustment of a starting over, but the realization that life has broken me once again. Despite this, my hopes are still high. I yearn to quickly bounce back onto a more focused path. It’s more apparent than ever to me that I’ve recovered from a series of losses over the past few years. Somehow, I remain loyal to strength, despite sobbing breakdowns in the privacy of my room. My friendships and relationships have tightened and I hold onto those that show me the endurance in my journey through life. 

While embracing my circle of support, I’ve cherished solitude more than ever. Solitude used to be my enemy, but now we’ve created a peaceful friendship.

Happiness is pushing itself through and I can feel it. The test of time will reap the rewards of my efforts. So from here out, I step forward, knowing it only gets better from here.

                      The Big Three-Whoa!

Age is just a number, more specifically, a state of mind.  My state of mind is around 24 years old, but there’s something about starting a new decade that has me wanting to stop and ask myself a few questions. The first question is, “What can take from my 20’s to make my 30’s spectacular?” I’m more than happy to kiss my 20’s good-bye and to never look back, but I want to remind myself that the 20’s brought me to this moment, a new starting point.

I decided to make a list I call, 30 Joys in my 30’s. I won’t elaborate what is on the list, because it’s only for my personal gain, but I intentionally gave myself no limits to what I want to do with my life. Some goals feel unrealistic and others are so simple I wondered why I didn’t accomplish them years earlier.  

Many people have told me there is a shift starting at thirty. Most women say they notice a biological clock with a warning alarm gnawing at them to settle and have a family. Others say there is a sudden desire to change careers or focus on a new passion. It’s obviously too soon for me to know what internal changes will evolve, but I’ve never had a desire for family or children and I’ve never been able to comfortably stay at a workplace long enough for a career to develop. Saying this, I am curious to see which life path I will pursue, considering I have no strong pull in any specific direction.

Strangely though, this birthday did feel unique. It wasn’t an all night party or a crazy night of drinking. In fact, all I wanted for my birthday was a day of simple relaxation. So, I decided on a day at the Ooedo Hot Springs in Odaiba. Odaiba is a futuristic artificial island clustered with replicas of landmarks from other cities, such as the Rainbow Bridge, that looks a lot like the Golden Gate Bridge, a mini statue of Liberty and a man made beach.

The spa was a traditional Japanese spa where one dresses in a Yukata, and walks around a small resort that looks like Edo period Japan from a movie set. There you can enjoy sushi, shaved ice and a variety of Japanese treats in between scheduled massages, facials and dips in the springs.  People of all ages wandered around, enjoying their favorite foods. There was even a game room for children. But, this place felt built specifically as a romantic getaway for couples. However, I was content enjoying time with my girlfriends.

I treated myself to a facial and many hours lounging in the variety of hot springs. There was the molten gold hot spring, which was high in minerals to help ‘enhance beauty.’ There was the bubbly calcium pool to ‘massage the joints.’ But my favorite experience of all time was the foot bath where you sit in a small room and dip your feet into a pool of  Garra Rufa and Cyprinion Macrostomus, AKA, ‘Doctor Fish.’ These tiny fish  nibble away your dead skin. If you close your eyes, it feels like tiny bubbles exploding on your skin but, if you look at the fish, it’s hard not think it looks like the fish are making out with your feet. The tickle sensation is hard to digest at first, but then you get used to it. Part of the experience in doing this is laughing so hard it’s impossible not to enjoy having doctor fish clean your toes. All that was missing was the perfect high school make out mix tape, for the fish, of course.

After about 4 hours of pampering, the girls and I set out to relax even longer with friends over Nabe. This is becoming my favorite dish in Japan, specifically because it’s easy to make and one pot feeds 3-4 people. Our friends brought a variety of vegetables and meats. We had so much produce we made 4 large pots of Nabe and still had enough leftover to make another 2-3 large pots. I played my Putumayo World Music discs to celebrate the fact our group represented five countries. We ate and drank till our hearts content and I felt happy and loved.

This was a wonderful birthday where I was able to have a cultural experience and share this experience with my friends. This was one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had. Usually, I feel slightly down, thinking of how I am one year older and worry that I will never feel peace within myself or how life has unfolded. But, like I said, this birthday felt different. It felt like a stepping-stone in a new direction. I have no idea what that direction is, but I’m a bit more optimistic about my future and the birthdays to come. 

                     13.1 Miles Around a Sewage Plant

Three years ago, I started running. During that time, I realized there was a decision to be made, do I want to continue a relationship that had already ended for me emotionally or should I keep trying to rekindle a phantom passion? Trying to make that decision overpowered my daily routines. It was all I could think about and I obsessively beat myself up thinking I was a horrible person for wanting out when on the surface everything seemed fine. The weight of the relationship felt entirely up to me. I realize now that’s never the case in any relationship, it’s symbiotic, but at that time I felt fully responsible.

My decision was to run. I hated running and my body yelled at me after each run. The whole point of ensuring pain on my body was to give me something else to focus on. Instead of telling myself I’m a horrible person for wanting to abandon a marriage that others continuously told me I was lucky to have, I could focus on the burn and the fatigue from running.

Six months later, I crossed the finish line of my first half marathon and suddenly my decision was clear. It was time for me to come to terms with the death of that relationship.  Soon after, we parted ways. One small victory pushed me into an entirely different path, one I never planned. Since the first race, my life took many unexpected twists and turns. Many were painful, but through it all, I continued running.

At first, running was a form of masochism. Any time I would feel angry or depressed, I would run just to feel the ache throughout my body as to try and forget the internal turmoil. Eventually, running evolved into therapy. I have to admit that I am a sloppy runner. What I mean is, I will start with a light jog and slowly pick up speed. Before I realize it, I will be in a full sprint, arms flailing, tears streaming down my face, uncontrollable runny nose and complete blindness by my own sweat. Occasionally, I’ll pass someone and see a look of confusion on his face. This is pretty embarrassing, but I when I hit that emotional breaking point, I have difficulty controlling anything about myself. Luckily, I’ve gotten to the point now I can run with minimal breakdowns. Now, running has grown to be more hypnotic and reflective. Before coming to Japan, I promised myself to complete a marathon to remind me of how far I’ve come since the first day I toppled in pain from running less than a mile.

It’s very difficult to join a race in Japan. Many of the races require foreigners to be a resident here for more than a year with a certificate showing his/her speed from a previous race. If I wanted to run a full marathon, I’d have to prove I participated in another marathon and that I was able to complete the race in a specific amount of time. Because everything here is incredibly bureaucratic, there would be no loopholes or ways around this. My Japanese friend was kind enough to help me find a race in Yokohama that didn’t have policies to weed out foreigners. Unfortunately, there were no spots available in the full marathon, so I signed up for the half marathon. I was just happy to have something to train and look forward to.

Race day, February 6^th, and my friend, Patience was there to cheer me on. Patience and I are so different, yet she was incredibly supportive. This meant so much to me. I expected to start and finish the race alone, which I didn’t mind, but it was nice to see someone just as excited as me. As I stretched, Patience lit up her cigarette and said with her Irish accent, “Look at us! Me the smoker and you the marathon runner…isn’t this fucking exciting?” I smiled and nodded, “It’s fucking awesome!” There were moments when waiting to start that Patience seemed more excited about my race than me. I felt touched that my dear friend who describes herself as a chain smoker and ‘not a morning person,’ took the time to meet me early in the morning on her day off to stand on the side lines and wave goodbye as I began the race. She knows how far I’ve come and how difficult the last few years have been. We’ve laughed together, cried together and held each other’s hair when hugging the toilet from getting wasted together. Here was my friend, total opposite of me, waiting at the starting line to cheer me on.

When the gun went off, we all started running at a fair pace. I was impressed how consistent everyone’s pace was. Very few people were pushing and shoving. Japanese people are far from aggressive, but it was interesting how structured we all were. Everyone was equal distance apart from one another and our steps stayed synched to an imaginary eight count. People here are punctual and precise, but I didn’t expect to see that in a race. The race began and exactly 11:30, the time posted, and we all kept about a 9:30 min mile as a group, much different than racing in the States. The only disappointment I felt was the choice of the race route. The 13.1 miles circled a water sewage plant twice, so the view was little to be desired and the smell was unpleasant at times. I still found humor in it all, saying to myself, “The last three years felt like I was dipped and dragged through a sewage plant and this time I am circling the shit that made me who I am today…and that’s one glorious dump!”

The race took me just under two hours, which is an average pace. I didn’t push myself for speed, I allowed myself to stay in a hypnotic zone and reflect on everything that has happened in my life from three years ago to that very moment. As I crossed the finish line, it felt a bit anti-climatic, but it didn’t discourage me. Despite the fact there was no beautiful rainbows or a small fan club of friends at the finish, I smiled to myself knowing this finish was different from the last one. The first time I crossed the finish line, I was overwhelmed with the mourning that comes with the loss of a loved one. This time, the finish line felt like I was stepping into the beginning of a new life, one with many guarantees of growth and enrichment. 

1/11/2011

Axl Loves Nabe…Right?

Nabe parties are popular during the winters in Japan. A nabe party is a dinner party where friends get together and cook seasonal vegetables, a variety of meats, tofu, and/or mochi in a clay bowl. The joy of eating nabe is sitting around a small table, sharing food and discussion with your friends. It’s the one of the cheapest and easiest forms of entertainment you can find in Japan.  And what better way to meet others than at a nabe party?

My coworker, Cheiko, wanted to introduce me to her boyfriend, Tstumo and his best friend, Tetsuro, over nabe. I think Tetsuro likes foreign girls, but I preferred the idea of meeting new friends.

When Cheiko and I arrived, “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” was playing on the television. I kept wondering why they were watching this until Cheiko told me they were watching the movie to practice English. I couldn’t help laughing a little because no one seemed remotely interested in the movie, but I guess it’s similar to my way of thinking that maybe I will somehow ‘absorb’ Japanese from passengers on trains and wake up one day being fluent in the language.

A nabe pot was placed on the center of a coffee table filled with seasonal produce; a variety of mushrooms, Chinese cabbage, ginger and Japan’s version of bacon (which is completely different than you’d find in the states).  Cheiko’s boyfriend is an artist so the presentation of the nabe was impressive. He zig zagged bacon between slices of cabbage to resemble a pinwheel and placed Enoki mushrooms sprouting from the center of the pinwheel. Maitake mushrooms were strategically scattered around the edges to enhance the pinwheel effect. It was really impressive. I was unaccustomed to men preparing dinner for me, so out of habit, I wanted to help. Cheiko kept reminding me that it was our job to prop up our feet and watch the men work to impress us. “Do they give foot massages too?” I joked. “Because if they do, my heart just might skip a beat.”

When our stew was ready, we sat around the coffee table and enjoyed small discussions, trying to get to know one another. Conversation was a bit challenging because my Japanese is nearly nonexistent and the men’s English skills were fairly basic. Cheiko acted as a translator between us. It’s at these moments I wish Japanese was easier for me, but I’m slowly learning how to read the body language and expressions of Japanese. This is not as easy as one may think considering this is a culture that isn’t comfortable sharing emotions or personal opinions.  The Japanese are masters of emotional disguise!

After “The Nightmare Before Christmas,” finished, the men were trying to figure out what other American film could be played. I wasn’t fond of the idea of playing movies when trying to get to know one another, but I’m guessing it was their way of trying to make me feel ‘at home.’ Because I get extremely distracted when the television is on. I suggested using my Iphone to play background music. More than anything, I enjoy casual conversation and getting to know people and these were people I was interested in knowing. So, I propped up my phone and picked the mellowest Hôtel Costes mix I could find.

That idea didn’t last long when Tetsuro began talking of his study abroad in Idaho during the early 90’s. We then transitioned into talking about trends in music and 1980’s hairstyles. He showed us a picture of himself during his study abroad days; a youthful Japanese teenager with a perm so big it put Slash to shame. I could tell by his distant smile when sharing his experiences that those days were some of his best. It was endearing. Amid retelling us about his college years, he decided it was a good idea to put on a Guns ‘N Roses video compilation…So much for a relaxing evening. I didn’t mind because I enjoyed the fact he could reminisce over his glory days. He seemed truly happy when telling us about his study abroad. It also seemed to be his way to connect with me, the American.

Because the Guns ‘N Roses compilation disc was every music video Guns ‘N Roses ever made, we spent the next two hours joking and talking about the fashion, the hair and the dramatics of the videos. Cheiko and I are alike in the fact that we have no problem goofing off a bit, so we would reenact dramatic scenes from the videos. She was the dying lover and I was Axl coming to save her or vice verse.

An evening of Guns ‘N Roses over nabe is not what I expected, but I still enjoyed it. Since Japan is a completely different world than the States, it was also nice to allow myself to reminisce over something familiar. I was reminded of my childhood in the early 90’s when I would visit my best friend’s house and watch the same Guns ‘N Roses videos. And of course, at that time, I jokingly reenacted the dramatic scenes from the videos, but instead of nabe, it was Pizza and Pringles. And I too had a big fro that put Slash to shame. Except, mine wasn’t a perm. It was the side effects of not knowing how to properly use Frizz-ease.  Oh, how times have changed…well, maybe time has, but I haven’t.

12/26/2010           Seven Police Officers, a Hot Businessman and a Fruitcake

My gym will be closed the next two weeks for maintenance and repairs. Because my gym has become an important source of entertainment, I thought I would try and find one of the other locations to use. A student of mine told me where the Kikuna location was and I thought I fully understood his directions. Because Kikuna is only a few stops from my station, I hoped it would be easy to find. I’m finding that directions given here tend to be slightly off, or maybe I just need more details. Either way, even hand written maps are difficult for me to understand, being that naming streets is not common practice in Japan.

After work, I hopped on the train, hopeful to find the gym. I wasn’t exactly sure where I was going, but I was sure I would work out details when I got there. Sometimes, I think I’m a little too optimistic when it comes to my ability to figure things out on my own.

When I arrived at the train station, I walked around, realizing there wasn’t much of a lead to finding this place. Two businessmen were outside smoking and watching my every move. I didn’t feel threatened, I’m used to being stared at and talked about.  It’s hardly ever a compliment, but I’ve learned that’s just the reality of living in a foreign country where the population of foreigners is slim to none.

As the businessmen watched me, I kept glancing back, wondering if I should attempt to ask for help. Eventually, after passing them a few times, I decided to give it a go. In elementary Japanese, I asked for help to find the address listed on my phone. All I had was an address pulled from the Internet, and I wasn’t even sure it was the correct address. The men spoke to each other in Japanese and both tried helping me. Eventually, the more attractive man of the two said, “Hurry, let’s go!” And started running toward the arriving train. “I like his style,” I thought. So I ran after him and boarded a train to god knows where to find god knows what.

I’m not exactly sure why I trusted him, but Japan is a place where one would hardly ever feel threatened or scared.  The only areas of Japan I’ve felt unsafe are the areas densely populated with foreigners. The foreigners are the ones I don’t trust.  In this case, a part of me felt the businessman was seeking the opportunity for adventure the same way I do. We could barely communicate more than, “My name is….” But I was able to understand most of what he was saying, by body language and expression. He was incredibly attractive and I just enjoyed the attention from an attractive man. I rarely get that here. My joke is Japanese men run from me. My Japanese friends tell me it’s because they are worried about sounding stupid when trying to speak English. Still, it wears heavily on my self-esteem and I’ve become convinced Japan is not a place I can seek male attention. As I’ve stated before, this is a good thing, knowing I’m not in a space to feel intimately vulnerable with anyone right now.  

As we rode the train, it was apparent how much effort this stranger was putting into helping me find the gym. I didn’t quite understand why, but I was thankful for his help. After arriving in Yokohama, it felt pointless to continue looking for this place because by the time I would actually find it, the gym would be closed. A part of me also wondered why this man wasn’t home with his wife.  Which brings me to the strange topic of marriage in Japan.

Many of my students, both male and female, have expressed extreme unhappiness in their marriages. This topic comes up a lot in the discussion portion of class. Many times, it feels I am mediating group therapy on the topic, not that I’m in any way possibly qualified to do this, but I appreciate their vulnerability and honesty. Feeling damaged from a broken marriage and a broken heart, I find myself yearning to understand other people’s perspectives on relationships. More importantly, why, no matter what country you are from, do many of us settle? And for those that don’t settle, is there such a thing as happiness and a love in a relationship?

This is not true for everyone in Japan, but I repeatedly hear that marriage is a financial agreement, not a commitment to love. To get married, one has to find the perfect balance in which a man brings home steady income to give to the wife. The wife manages the funds and seems to take on the dominant role in the relationship.  A few married men have expressed a fear of their wives. They say this in a joking manner, but I can’t help to think there is some truth in what they are saying.  Now, if the couple chooses to have a child, the wife dedicates her life to taking care of the child, while the husband dedicates his life to his income. I am repeatedly told infidelity is common with the men, but rarely talked about as a couple.  Like I mentioned before, this is not true for all couples here, but this is a list of what is shared with me during conversation.  I would honestly hope most of this information is false but I’m slightly doubtful. In addition, statistically, it seems Japan, Malaysia and China has the lowest frequency of sex per year.  Knowing this information makes me skeptical of finding a healthy partnership with someone some day, not because I’m in Japan but because I am only able to see the negative side of relationships at this stage of my life.  All these thoughts pass my mind as I sit next to the attractive stranger on a train ride into Yokohama.

When arriving in Yokohama, we ran around the station as if we were late for a boarding plane. I laughed the entire time at the ridiculousness of the situation. The businessman jokes a gesture for me to hop on his back to make it easier for us to stick together, but seeing that I was not much smaller than him and I had my hands full of stuff from work, I acted like I didn’t understand. It was too complicated to try and communicate my reasons why that was not a good idea.  Instead, I ran behind him and held tight to his jacket.

We stop at the local police box to get directions. There were seven police officers sitting in the police box. It didn’t seem to be an eventful evening for them. The businessman translates what I was looking for and they all got out their phones to look up the gym on the Internet. “Megalos?” They take turns asking me, which is by far the worst name for a gym. It sounded even worse when they kept asking me, “Why do you want Megalos?” It was getting more and more complicated to explain that Megalos is a chain of gyms, my location is closed, I’m looking for the location near Kikuna, but this kind man…I can’t remember his name…brought me to Yokohama thinking this address was near here, and did I mention I’m not even sure this is the right address?

We stood in the police box for at least 30 minutes going back and forth in attempt to explain why I was there. The businessman translated what he understood and the policeman looked at me wanting to figure out why it was so important for me to find this place at 11pm when it was already closed.

I kept saying, “Daijoubu, daijoubu desu” (slang for it’s okay, I’m okay) to let them know they don’t need to continue helping me, but I think they really wanted to understand what the situation was about. It was as if they already started helping me, so why not follow through until there is an answer? So, I just stood there watching as seven police men were on their phones looking for Megalos, an attractive businessman smiling and giving me the thumbs up in pride for helping me, and feeling like a stupid foreigner. I just stood there laughing quietly that I put myself in this situation. In the end, I never found the gym, but I did find the whole situation entertaining.

As we left, I thanked the businessman for helping me. I wanted to give him something because Japan is big on gift giving in appreciation. Earlier that day, a student gave me fruitcake as a holiday gift. Since I am unable to enjoy cake of any kind, I decided the fruitcake would be a nice gesture of appreciation. So I handed the businessman the neatly wrapped fruitcake, “Please, take this fruitcake!” I said. And forgetting touching is not common practice here; I gave him a hug and immediately felt him tense up. “Oops!” I thought to myself.  So, I quickly let go and just waved and bowed from a foot away. This was yet another reminder why Japan is my year of solitude. I’m too affectionate for Japanese men, but that’s okay. I can’t and won’t change that about myself. I do however; wonder if I will ever change my thoughts on the possibility of finding compatibility. I guess it will continue being an ongoing process. I am aware my thoughts on relationships is in a toxic state, but these small experiences keep me focused on a bigger picture and that’s to enjoy the small adventures in my life. 

12/13/10

After a long day at work, I look forward to going to my gym. The reasons aren’t only because it’s my stress reliever, but because there is always a guarantee for entertainment there. The gym atmosphere is much different here than my experience in the states.  It’s true that the gym becomes a social outlet for many people, but it is almost completely a social outlet for the Japanese, at least at my gym. Working out seems pretty secondary here. My gym definitely isn’t the Gold’s Gym of Japan. This may not be true for ALL gyms here, so I will specifically focus on the characteristics of what makes my gym so appealing and entertaining.

In America, gyms are usually considered a ‘meet market.’ It seems to be similar here, but as I mentioned in an earlier entry, the Japanese are obsessed with fashion, and rightfully so, because they can pull it off better than anyone else! So not only is it a ‘meet market,’ but it feels more like a fashion event. I’ve started going to a variety of classes because it seems to be the only way for me to stay motivated. Also, each class has a personality of it’s own that attracts specific groups of people I’ve become attached to.

I see the same people every night I go because we workout during the same time slots. So I notice different people by their outfits. There’s the guy who pimps an orange Megaloss T-shirt (Megaloss is the name of the gym I go to) with matching orange sneakers. Whenever I take a class with him, he is the most enthusiastic participant. I can always count on him to keep my adrenaline up because he yells on beat with the music something that sounds like “hee-ya!” Sometimes I wonder if he takes Karate and has forgotten we are doing a step class.

Then there’s my favorite little guy. He wears a skin-tight spandex muscle shirt and spikes his hair in different directions. He and I always end up near each other in class. We take a few different classes together. In hip-hop dance class, he really gets into the ‘pop and lock’ portion of the choreography. He is incredibly uncoordinated but dances as if no one is watching and this is why I adore him. He tries so hard. And it never fails; the poor guy always ends up tripping and falling. At first, I thought he only did this in the dance class, but he’s recently started taking a kickboxing class I’m in. He falls in this class too. Monday night is a step class. He has started showing up to this class as well. Last Monday he tripped on the step and went flying, almost knocking another classmate over. Everyone pretends not to see it. That seems to be the way of the Japanese, just pretend you don’t see something out of the ordinary happening.

Thursday night is the kickboxing class night. This instructor is very popular among the ladies, so I enjoy watching girls swoon and pine for his attention. The best part is how each girl has a face full of makeup and hairstyles that I would consider wearing to prom. This class is a full body workout, so I find is very impressive the girls can come to class looking amazing and leave class with their hair still prestigiously arranged. It must take a lot of hair product to create such a masterpiece. There is one young girl who is smoking hot that has the trendiest outfits. She is the only girl I’ve ever seen that can make parachute pants, skin tight tank tops and sweat-bands look sexy. She punches and kicks with her long curls bouncy like you’d see in a perfume ad. The instructor has definitely taken notice of her, but so has all the other men in class. She gets two thumbs up as the hottest gym member.

I’ve made one friend at my gym. He is an older guy who speaks conversational English pretty well. I usually talk to him while we are both using the elliptical machines. There is an AC vent that blows cool air on two elliptical machines in the corner of the weight room, so always find him there and hop on the machine next to him to chat about gym gossip. He updates me on who is dating who, people’s ages, job statuses, etc. It’s become my guilty pleasure talking with him because knowing these details about people help me feel more included. I’ve become used to feeling like the foreigner who doesn’t fit in anywhere. But with my gym pal, I feel less like a foreigner and more like I belong to something. He asks me about America and talks about his dreams of moving to California.

The gym has become my retreat. My job burdens me, specifically because there is enormous pressure to be perfect. I can never attain perfection and I’m aware of that, but the job culture here opposite of my work philosophies. So, as soon as my last class of the workday ends, I grab my sneakers and run out the door to a community that gives me the opportunity embrace the quirky personality differences that become accented outside a suffocating workplace.

11/25

Since Thanksgiving isn’t celebrated in Japan, I honestly didn’t expect to find a group of people to share this holiday with. I actually didn’t even think much about the holiday since Hallmark wasn’t around to hype up the holidays, pretending American families actually enjoy being around one another.  Despite the distance from home, I somehow found myself spending Turkey Day with two other Seattle-ites, three westernized and highly accomplished, Japanese women and a 100% Japanese guy (except for a dash of German, thanks to his father’s, father’s, father’s, father) who was graced with the All-American name, Jake. 

I arrived late because I had to work until 9pm. My friends, Eric (from Seattle) and his wife, Sayori invited me to the dinner after only meeting them a few weeks ago. Eric invited his college buddy, also from Seattle and now living in Japan with his wife, an accomplished Architect. Sayori invited Japanese Jake, who works with her. And the host was a lovely, cultivated chef, who was featured in “The Breadmaker’s Apprentice,” to indulge us with her phenomenal cooking skills.

Ravenous from my long day at work, I knew I was in heaven when I walked through the door to a table full of delectable delights and a full glass of Cabernet. “Oh my god! I am in LOVE!” I thought. This was the most perfect combination of people and flavors. I knew this as soon as I walked in the door, no introduction needed. These, food included, were my soul mates!

The evening was spent laughing and joking about American culture verses Japanese culture. We ate until our bellies could burst and drank countless bottles of wine. I couldn’t even tell you how many times a bottle was opened! My glass was never left dry. I sipped the wine and bonded over conversations about restrictions in Japanese culture. We joked about the uncomfortable situations we found ourselves in as ‘liberal westerners’ in a conservative society. I felt a sense of satisfaction with where I am in my life right now.

I realized that no matter where I am or what I do, I find myself surrounded by amazing people. I joke that I’m neither accomplished nor stable, but the reality is I don’t really care enough to change. I’m having fun and that’s what I need the most right now.

I’m also realizing the people I surround myself with the most are a reflection of who I want to be. This sounds like basic knowledge, but I’m finding this to be more and more true. I left a group of people in Seattle that I admire, love and trust. I felt the need to isolate myself from those people and the norm to figure out how to find stability within myself without the crutch of others. Now I am in Japan, and I am drawn to a variety of individuals with the same inspirational qualities I found comforting in Seattle. It’s ironic that I keep meeting others from Seattle, but aside from that, the people I meet are powerful individuals who seek adventure and beauty in life.

Isolating myself is not the way for me to heal from the past. Healing for me comes from surrounding myself with empowering individuals that inspire thought provoking conversations about life and ending in the prototypical belly laughter. All this, reminding me that I am exactly where I need to be at this single moment.