I look askance

I look askance. It's a tough thing, trying to reclaim your childhood and have a drastically unique experience at the same time, but I've done that. That was what I set out to do all along, probably (if I didn't know it before, I know it now), and I've done it, not only elsewhere but here in Japan, too.

I've re-seen what I saw three years ago, the bustling streets of Tokyo, the really friendly deer, the colorful vending machines, natural scenes and the soft and quiet serenity. Does that sound repetitive? Well, as I've said before, this is no place of mere serenity. There's too much brewing under the surface. It's like the massive underground security system I hear they have in peaceful, rich Monaco. It's not just serenity. Perhaps it's not real serenity. But in any case, I've seen what brought me back here in the first place, the marvelously unique country that was so fun to visit before and has been so fun to be seeing now, everything being just about the same as it was when I first came here with the exception of the weather, and my familiarity with many streets and my comfortability with streets I've never been down before. Just another Kansai street. And what's left? Still there is 残り (nokori, stuff remaining).

Tokyo was rude, compared to Kansai, I feel. I was treated more like a foreigner there than I have been this whole time in Hirakata and other places in the area, but I guess that's just Tokyo, crazy as it is and must be. I like Kansai. I might be tempted to live here, were I not cogniscent of all that living here implies outside of the context of this unique semester-of-study experience. "Semestral" is a word I might never use in the context of Japan ever again. But there's more to life than college. I'll probably come back.

Japan, I love you. That means I love you despite your faults. And I realize that some of those faults are more my fault, and the rest are liable to my perception. In other words, we've had a good thing together. In better words, I could go on about the things that drive me nuts about you, but you always find a way to sneak up behind me and tickle me. No, you don't even have to do the sneaking or the tickling. You're just Nihon. Or Nippon, if you so desire. My royal highness.

And some things can be a royal pain in the butt here. I think I'm really exhausted from pretty much everything; the everyday 日本語 (nihongo, Japanese) communication, being sick three times in three months in a foreign country, having a decent amount of work, various schedule-making situations, getting stuff done for France, the sightseeing, the everyday biking on a weak bike that I now have to go to the repair shop for, that biking including a 3-5 minute climb up a steep hill every school day, trains, walking and walking, thinking, karaoke, tobacco permeating my clothes and bookbag, house dust permeating my lungs, stress permeating my body, hearing about my uncle's death, spending Thanksgiving without a turkey and without my family, thinking (just by typing this list) of things I have to get done. And I've probably lost about five pounds, if not more, which is too much for me.

I don't think I've been good enough to my host family, really. I've only played piano once in this house! Mostly it's been frisbee, with the occasional exceptions from bouts of sickness like this one. At least I've had frisbee. And frisbee brings me to my friends, who I will miss dearly when I leave, some of whom I might not ever see again. And those are just the frisbee friends.

It's so sad that we're leaving. Well, that I'm leaving. Or rather that this semester is so temporary. I haven't had enough time to just chill, here, with you guys, and that's really unfortunate. I wish I could be closer with my Japanese friends, too. And if you understand this, any of my Japanese friends, and you've read this far, then you're really good at English. And I wish I could've spent more time with you! But I guess I've learned a lesson: if you try to do everything, you can miss out on things that are precious. Yep, I tried to do everything. And tried not to do too much. It's a bad combo. You end up eliminating things you really shouldn't and telling yourself that they're unimportant. When you realize they're important later, you slap yourself in the face. Hmm, but perhaps it's the best combo possible.

You guys are great. You guys are great people, and I have enjoyed the time here with you guys so much. I don't think in writing you can see how much I really mean that. Let's have a great end of the trip together with me, to say it Japanese-style, and let's always remember this greatness.

And don't forget me!
Alex