So, I am getting ready to come home to America. Wow, I can hardly believe it has been nearly 10 months! Here is what is going on in my brain about returning....
I have changed.
I had this epiphany when I returned from my trip in Tokyo (remind me to tell you about Tokyo - yikes!) I realized that I have been trying so hard to not let anything change between me and my friends in the states, or me and my family, for fear of what would happen when I returned. But it's too late and nothing I can control. I have changed and when I come home, everything will be the same.
Well, for the most part. I know what Portland looks like and where most things are. I know what my family is like and what they are doing and how they do it and where I fit in. I know what people are thinking (for the most part, societally at best). And though it will be exciting and thrilling to be apart of that same machine again, it will be the same machine I have always known.
Believe me, I'm READY to come home. But a part of me lives here now. I have put some roots down in Japan and it will be hard to say goodbye. Goodbye to not knowing what others are really saying, goodbye to not knowing what I'm really eating (and definitely not knowing how to say what it is). Goodbye to being the only white person on the train. Goodbye to everyone staring at me. Goodbye to never knowing what the weather will be like, if it will go from a balmy 70 degrees to a rainy wind storm for 5 minutes (okay so that sounds a little bit like Portland, but its different because it's Japan). Goodbye to school lunches and looking around before eating to see HOW to eat my lunch. Goodbye to my group of ALT buddies who have all asked the same questions, "WTF" and "OMG". And I'll miss it all.
I have 2 more months to enjoy it and you better believe I relish everyday and the daily routine of naivety and ignorance that comes with it. I have a touch rugby tournament at the end of the month (We are 'Fistful of Funazushi' watch out). I have a Cowboys and Indian Theme party at my house June 13th...wait for the photos. And in July I have the Kyoto Matsuri, where I get to wear my Yukata (a thin kimono type wrap) and drink in the closed off streets of Sanjo...AND a trip to Okinawa! And BAM, just like that I'll be on a flight home.
I can't wait to see everyone again, especially my little nephews who ask if I can come home that weekend, every time I talk to them. But until then, stay tuned and keep checking out my pics on facebook....I'll try to post some on here when I get home. (I usually do all my posts on the computer at school, so I don't have any photos...) Sorry.
Wait for it...
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Falling sleep at Grandma's.
Last night I couldn't sleep. I couldn't figure out why, it may have had something to do with the frogs thriving in every rice field for miles or the fact I just sat on my "couch" and watched Sex and the City all day. Either way, I didn't want my coworkers telling me I looked tired for the third day in a row so I was in bed by 10:38, eyes closed.
I began to slow my breathing and on every exhale I would think, relax. This works, I'm told. So about 10 relaxes later I started to count down from 10. This started working until I realized I was concentrating too much and then my mind went into a flurry of other thoughts. 'Reel em in, Kyla,' is what I told myself and started to count backwards from 10 again, determined to fall into a deep, restful, no puffy eyes tomorrow, sleep. I remembered the tapes my mom used to put in for my sisters and I that would talk us into sleep. (I need to find those tapes.) A man would talk to us about relaxing and being on a cloud and all that. And it worked every time. So I tried to imagine his voice and then thought, since I am so far away I would channel some family member's voice. Of course, I thought of my Grandma Alice. But, when I "pushed the play button" the tape stopped. I had to recollect my memories of her voice. I was jarred to say the least and I heaved the memory of her voice back into my brain with all my strength and finally after flipping through afternoons at her house in her kitchen, her voice returned and so did she.
She said to me, "So you want me to count down from 10 huh?" With all her sass. "Yes please." "Alright, but you better fall asleep I'm only going to do it once." She told me. "Alright," I smiled. Her voice was soothing though her tone was impatient. She would never let on that she was actually enjoying herself. When she got to 5, as before, my mind started to drift into other memories, but her voice caught me when she said, "listen, I'm not going to count if you're not going to pay attention. Now close your eyes and listen."
I realize that all her words were my words in my mind. But it was her voice that played and I was happy to be in its presence. Soon she got to 1 and of course I wasn't asleep. But she didn't mind. She said she'd count one more time, but this time was it. And as she counted me to sleep I remembered all the nights I would run over to her house, mad at my mother, or just worried that my Grandma was lonely, and curl up under the covers in her King size bed to sleep. She would be awake until 2:00 or 3:00 reading her love stories anyway. I would say hello and that I was sleeping there and that was it. She would keep on reading. Sometimes she would extend her arm to rub my back for a second. Sometimes I would extend my arms and tuck it under her hip just so I could be touching her. "You're alright kid." she would say without looking away from her book. I remembered in the morning, rubbing 'the blue stuff' on her back and shoulders, her skin soft over her robust body.
She was the best woman I've ever met. Her tone was her trademark. She was always ready to help but she would never suggest it was her pleasure to serve. She would visit an elderly woman who lived alone down the street and buy the eggs the woman was selling there to help her out. Eventually she would run errands for the woman, bringing her groceries, picking up prescriptions. My Grandma enjoyed the simple things like feeding "her" birds and the other animals who lived around her property. And she was always stylish when making public appearances. Her hair was did and her large, extravagant cars would sail down the highways. Nothing but the best for her. She believed in hard work and family.
In Japan, they honor their relatives who have past away on a regular basis. They celebrate the anniversary of their deaths together as a family and pray in front of an alter to them, some daily. We drink Margaritas for Grandma Alice on her birthday, but it has been too long since we've all been able to get together and remember her. The last time my Mom and sisters did this was the first year after her death. It has been almost 4 years now. Wow. But last night we visited. And eventually after dilly dallying through memories and holding her voice at the forefront my mind through conversations with my grandma, I fell asleep, and she was there.
I began to slow my breathing and on every exhale I would think, relax. This works, I'm told. So about 10 relaxes later I started to count down from 10. This started working until I realized I was concentrating too much and then my mind went into a flurry of other thoughts. 'Reel em in, Kyla,' is what I told myself and started to count backwards from 10 again, determined to fall into a deep, restful, no puffy eyes tomorrow, sleep. I remembered the tapes my mom used to put in for my sisters and I that would talk us into sleep. (I need to find those tapes.) A man would talk to us about relaxing and being on a cloud and all that. And it worked every time. So I tried to imagine his voice and then thought, since I am so far away I would channel some family member's voice. Of course, I thought of my Grandma Alice. But, when I "pushed the play button" the tape stopped. I had to recollect my memories of her voice. I was jarred to say the least and I heaved the memory of her voice back into my brain with all my strength and finally after flipping through afternoons at her house in her kitchen, her voice returned and so did she.
She said to me, "So you want me to count down from 10 huh?" With all her sass. "Yes please." "Alright, but you better fall asleep I'm only going to do it once." She told me. "Alright," I smiled. Her voice was soothing though her tone was impatient. She would never let on that she was actually enjoying herself. When she got to 5, as before, my mind started to drift into other memories, but her voice caught me when she said, "listen, I'm not going to count if you're not going to pay attention. Now close your eyes and listen."
I realize that all her words were my words in my mind. But it was her voice that played and I was happy to be in its presence. Soon she got to 1 and of course I wasn't asleep. But she didn't mind. She said she'd count one more time, but this time was it. And as she counted me to sleep I remembered all the nights I would run over to her house, mad at my mother, or just worried that my Grandma was lonely, and curl up under the covers in her King size bed to sleep. She would be awake until 2:00 or 3:00 reading her love stories anyway. I would say hello and that I was sleeping there and that was it. She would keep on reading. Sometimes she would extend her arm to rub my back for a second. Sometimes I would extend my arms and tuck it under her hip just so I could be touching her. "You're alright kid." she would say without looking away from her book. I remembered in the morning, rubbing 'the blue stuff' on her back and shoulders, her skin soft over her robust body.
She was the best woman I've ever met. Her tone was her trademark. She was always ready to help but she would never suggest it was her pleasure to serve. She would visit an elderly woman who lived alone down the street and buy the eggs the woman was selling there to help her out. Eventually she would run errands for the woman, bringing her groceries, picking up prescriptions. My Grandma enjoyed the simple things like feeding "her" birds and the other animals who lived around her property. And she was always stylish when making public appearances. Her hair was did and her large, extravagant cars would sail down the highways. Nothing but the best for her. She believed in hard work and family.
In Japan, they honor their relatives who have past away on a regular basis. They celebrate the anniversary of their deaths together as a family and pray in front of an alter to them, some daily. We drink Margaritas for Grandma Alice on her birthday, but it has been too long since we've all been able to get together and remember her. The last time my Mom and sisters did this was the first year after her death. It has been almost 4 years now. Wow. But last night we visited. And eventually after dilly dallying through memories and holding her voice at the forefront my mind through conversations with my grandma, I fell asleep, and she was there.
Wednesday, May 6, 2009
Cultural reflections
At Satoko's Bamboo shoots party, I was there with a gaggle of people from all different cultures. Of course there were Japanese people, there were also people from Brazil and there were people from America too. Some Japanese people could speak English, some Portuguese people could speak Japanese, some Americans could speak Japanese and some Americans (such as myself) could speak English. Being able to speak another language opens up so many doors into new ways of thinking. During this cultural schmorgues board it was explained to me that in Japan they prefer people to have long legs and short bodies. However, in Brazil, their desired look is short legs and long bodies. These are rare among their own ethnic backgrounds. The man who was telling me this said, these are the reasons why he was perfect for his wife, she is Brazilian - and he is Japanese (short legs and a long body!)
I started thinking today about these cultural interests and how they transcend into other cultural aesthetics. Buildings, furniture, art, city planning, all of these tastes are reflected. I see how South American design is long shapes and with soft textiles - almost as if their furniture were the long torsos that appeal to them. And Japanese design is asymetrical and sleek using more natural fibers and recycled materials that could represent their taste for length, endurance, movement as they prefer in their physical appearance. As I have said before, culture is a machine that functions when using all its parts - personal aesthetic included.
So how does America fit into this? We like what? Long legs, long bodies, big butts, big chests, strong, healthy, tone? Can you see how our personal aesthetics transcend into our architecture and material culture?
I started thinking today about these cultural interests and how they transcend into other cultural aesthetics. Buildings, furniture, art, city planning, all of these tastes are reflected. I see how South American design is long shapes and with soft textiles - almost as if their furniture were the long torsos that appeal to them. And Japanese design is asymetrical and sleek using more natural fibers and recycled materials that could represent their taste for length, endurance, movement as they prefer in their physical appearance. As I have said before, culture is a machine that functions when using all its parts - personal aesthetic included.
So how does America fit into this? We like what? Long legs, long bodies, big butts, big chests, strong, healthy, tone? Can you see how our personal aesthetics transcend into our architecture and material culture?
Sunday, April 26, 2009
So many things on a Monday
Good Morning!
Today, from the window of my ichi nen sei classroom, I watched an old tracker dredge through a flooded and muddy rice field. Back and forth it pushed and leveled the earth. A small grouping of birds danced and jumped never more than 10 feet in front of the heavy machine, rejoicing for the bugs that had freshly emerged.
The rice fields are really quite breath taking when they are all flooded. It looks like pieces of the sky have been strategically stretched out across the ground.
Good Afternoon!
I was waiting for the bell to ring so I could eat my curry rice. It had been sitting on my desk for almost 15 minutes already. The smell was reminding me of just how hungry I get when I miss breakfast. The bell rings and I still wait at least 5 minutes. Being the first person to eat, if committed to such actions, must be done with skill and a sense of calculated nonchalance. I pull my tray close to me and pour the curry contents on to my rice. I grab my cold metal spoon, which feels like a soulless utensil after using chopsticks day in and day out and begin to dig in. Mmmmm, curry rice. Curry rice and... ABBA? Yes. Today's lunch music is ABBA. The ABBA gold album. Me, curry rice, my spoon and ABBA. (I also got to drink my yogurt out of a miniature looking plastic milk container. Japan happens.
Good evening!
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Grandpa Willy
I finally called my Grandpa Willy this morning. Time is tricky when trying to call long distance, and bless my mother for waking me up this morning! So I had some time to chat with good ole' Grandpa Willy. He has been in an assisted living facility for some time now (almost a year) and its just not the same without hearing some of his stories every now and again. I savor every second talking to that man because he is a huge key to my childhood and an amazing key hole into the past.
This morning he answered the phone as if we've spoken everyday since I left. His nonchalance chipperness is sentimental and warming. We both say 'Hello, How are you', at the same time and I ask how life is treating him. He sounds winded a bit and explains that he just got home. My Uncle Bill had just drug him around town, took him to "the" house (his house, that sits empty on water street that was once filled with his family and then his family's families and the setting for more holidays than I can remember.) But he got tired and just had to come back. He told me he was just laying in his chair.
I can see his soft balding head reclining on the heavy textile covering his recliner, both arms resting perfectly on both arm rests, hands fidgeting now and again, his suspenders clipped to his jeans laying over his grandpa belly and his skinny wee legs, who have done their darndest to get him through the last 82 years, supported and relaxing, stretched out in front of him. He may or may not be wearing his romeo shoes, perhaps some slippers but definitely some white tube socks. My guess is, its time to watch COPS. He loves that show. But I am grateful for his attention for a minute to discuss just a few moments of current events followed by old stories of the war, repeated at least once.
He tells me people are starting to call him a Hippie because his hair is getting so long. For a retired Barber - this is bad news. He says my Uncle Bill will take him to get it cut on Thursday. His intonation during this conversation is rascally. He gets a little wound up about being called a hippie but all in good spirit. I ask how his new home is treating him and he tells me "(Eve?), does a good job running the place", as if Eve and I were old high school friends. He says the kids come to visit which he really likes and I'm glad he isn't left alone too long.
When I begin to mention Japan that's when the war stories start.
"Things sure are different out here in Japan, Grandpa", I tell him. "Oh I bet they sure are. I remember when I was stationed in China I had a man fly in from Japan, and he came in asking for oil, water and ... and... dang it I can't remember the third thing, he wanted three things, but I sure found all 3 of them for him so he could get back to Japan."
"He had one of those big planes that could make the jump, we had to fly up the valley. We only had 1,000 horses, and his plane had 1,800."
"But my plane sure was dependable. Some guys were always bringing their planes in fixing the engines, needing new parts."
"I remember taking in a bunch of Japanese prisoners of war". He says this with as much intonation as everything else he has says.
"Wait, what?" I ask. I lean closer to the key hole to get a better look of what is going on inside.
"A bunch of them Japanese wanted to surrender, so we took em back to the camp, had them set up their camps and whatnot. We took all their firearms and cameras. Boy there were piles of them cameras and samurai swords and firearms. Them people from the newspaper sure were upset, those were great cameras. Those Japanese do know how to make great cameras...and, oh.. Willy find it... Binoculars, they had some great binoculars!"
"Then we took them up and put them in box cars, made them stand up and sent them back to the ships that would take them back to Japan." "Like on a train? You made them get in a train box car?" I asked. "Ya, the ones that came up waist high. We put them in the closed ones and people would be pooping in there. So with a half one they could lean their butts over and poop."
And as he is explaining all of this my mind is attempting to comprehend that reality. To put people onto a box car and to deal with their humanity from a soldiers perspective. To fly a plane and put your life at risk every moment. To learn about new cultures through the possessions you have confiscated from the very people trying to harm you. And the whole process of surrendering...in war. This is such a vivid vision of his life in the war, especially for 7:30 in the morning, but my heart is filled with my grandfather's voice.
I mention that I got a new batch of kids at school and they are a lot of fun to teach. He chimes in with, "Ah that is what your Uncle Bill and Aunt Martha did, teaching kids in foreign countries." This is something we have all known for about the last 20 years. Both my Aunt and Uncle are now retired.
"That's right" I add. "I am going to try to make it down to Okinawa to see it before I come home," "That's where your Uncle Bill and Aunt Martha used to live" he interjects. I follow with, "ya, I want to see where they lived before I come home."
"Well soon you'll get some time off to travel." he adds.
Shortly after we both drift into the second rendition of the first story he tells me of the war. "I remember when I was stationed in China I had a man fly in from Japan, and he came in asking for oil, water and ... and... dang it I just can't remember the third thing, he wanted three things, but I sure found all 3 of them for him so he could get back to Japan." I wonder if it matters to him whether I listen or not, it doesn't appear to, but I do all the same because sharing these stories between us is my gift from him. "That's good Grandpa, I bet you did."
Every once in a while I will say something and his response seems genuine and intrigued and I am happily surprised for his presence. I told him I was going to be car-less when I get home, but I will figure out how to come visit him. He sympathized by explaining, "You will have time to go through and pick out the right one for you. Just make sure you talk them down. (The way they price those cars) they think they're made of GOLD!". I smiled from ear to ear. He is a clever man.
I responded with, (when shopping for a car) "you don't take No for an answer", he laughed from his belly, "that's right" he said.
These are the conversations that are like gold to me.
Every time I talk to him I realize more and more how precious this life is. We only live it once and all too soon we will be faced with the reality of old age. I think about his life and how I often forget that this grandpa who lived in Silverton, Oregon for 60 years used to fly planes from China over Asia, dropping bombs and avoiding bullets. How he traveled across the United States in his childhood and survived the depression, dropping out of 6th grade to get a job to buy food for his family. He is just one person, like any other, but there is one thing very special about him, he is my Grandpa Willy.
This morning he answered the phone as if we've spoken everyday since I left. His nonchalance chipperness is sentimental and warming. We both say 'Hello, How are you', at the same time and I ask how life is treating him. He sounds winded a bit and explains that he just got home. My Uncle Bill had just drug him around town, took him to "the" house (his house, that sits empty on water street that was once filled with his family and then his family's families and the setting for more holidays than I can remember.) But he got tired and just had to come back. He told me he was just laying in his chair.
I can see his soft balding head reclining on the heavy textile covering his recliner, both arms resting perfectly on both arm rests, hands fidgeting now and again, his suspenders clipped to his jeans laying over his grandpa belly and his skinny wee legs, who have done their darndest to get him through the last 82 years, supported and relaxing, stretched out in front of him. He may or may not be wearing his romeo shoes, perhaps some slippers but definitely some white tube socks. My guess is, its time to watch COPS. He loves that show. But I am grateful for his attention for a minute to discuss just a few moments of current events followed by old stories of the war, repeated at least once.
He tells me people are starting to call him a Hippie because his hair is getting so long. For a retired Barber - this is bad news. He says my Uncle Bill will take him to get it cut on Thursday. His intonation during this conversation is rascally. He gets a little wound up about being called a hippie but all in good spirit. I ask how his new home is treating him and he tells me "(Eve?), does a good job running the place", as if Eve and I were old high school friends. He says the kids come to visit which he really likes and I'm glad he isn't left alone too long.
When I begin to mention Japan that's when the war stories start.
"Things sure are different out here in Japan, Grandpa", I tell him. "Oh I bet they sure are. I remember when I was stationed in China I had a man fly in from Japan, and he came in asking for oil, water and ... and... dang it I can't remember the third thing, he wanted three things, but I sure found all 3 of them for him so he could get back to Japan."
"He had one of those big planes that could make the jump, we had to fly up the valley. We only had 1,000 horses, and his plane had 1,800."
"But my plane sure was dependable. Some guys were always bringing their planes in fixing the engines, needing new parts."
"I remember taking in a bunch of Japanese prisoners of war". He says this with as much intonation as everything else he has says.
"Wait, what?" I ask. I lean closer to the key hole to get a better look of what is going on inside.
"A bunch of them Japanese wanted to surrender, so we took em back to the camp, had them set up their camps and whatnot. We took all their firearms and cameras. Boy there were piles of them cameras and samurai swords and firearms. Them people from the newspaper sure were upset, those were great cameras. Those Japanese do know how to make great cameras...and, oh.. Willy find it... Binoculars, they had some great binoculars!"
"Then we took them up and put them in box cars, made them stand up and sent them back to the ships that would take them back to Japan." "Like on a train? You made them get in a train box car?" I asked. "Ya, the ones that came up waist high. We put them in the closed ones and people would be pooping in there. So with a half one they could lean their butts over and poop."
And as he is explaining all of this my mind is attempting to comprehend that reality. To put people onto a box car and to deal with their humanity from a soldiers perspective. To fly a plane and put your life at risk every moment. To learn about new cultures through the possessions you have confiscated from the very people trying to harm you. And the whole process of surrendering...in war. This is such a vivid vision of his life in the war, especially for 7:30 in the morning, but my heart is filled with my grandfather's voice.
I mention that I got a new batch of kids at school and they are a lot of fun to teach. He chimes in with, "Ah that is what your Uncle Bill and Aunt Martha did, teaching kids in foreign countries." This is something we have all known for about the last 20 years. Both my Aunt and Uncle are now retired.
"That's right" I add. "I am going to try to make it down to Okinawa to see it before I come home," "That's where your Uncle Bill and Aunt Martha used to live" he interjects. I follow with, "ya, I want to see where they lived before I come home."
"Well soon you'll get some time off to travel." he adds.
Shortly after we both drift into the second rendition of the first story he tells me of the war. "I remember when I was stationed in China I had a man fly in from Japan, and he came in asking for oil, water and ... and... dang it I just can't remember the third thing, he wanted three things, but I sure found all 3 of them for him so he could get back to Japan." I wonder if it matters to him whether I listen or not, it doesn't appear to, but I do all the same because sharing these stories between us is my gift from him. "That's good Grandpa, I bet you did."
Every once in a while I will say something and his response seems genuine and intrigued and I am happily surprised for his presence. I told him I was going to be car-less when I get home, but I will figure out how to come visit him. He sympathized by explaining, "You will have time to go through and pick out the right one for you. Just make sure you talk them down. (The way they price those cars) they think they're made of GOLD!". I smiled from ear to ear. He is a clever man.
I responded with, (when shopping for a car) "you don't take No for an answer", he laughed from his belly, "that's right" he said.
These are the conversations that are like gold to me.
Every time I talk to him I realize more and more how precious this life is. We only live it once and all too soon we will be faced with the reality of old age. I think about his life and how I often forget that this grandpa who lived in Silverton, Oregon for 60 years used to fly planes from China over Asia, dropping bombs and avoiding bullets. How he traveled across the United States in his childhood and survived the depression, dropping out of 6th grade to get a job to buy food for his family. He is just one person, like any other, but there is one thing very special about him, he is my Grandpa Willy.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
serendipity hardly seems like the right word.
This is what I love about life. It's unpredictable and eventually it all comes back around.
Spur of the moment I IM an old fling from New York who I happened to meet a wedding I went to spur of the moment in Portland. I ended up spending a rocky weekend (or as he would call it, "a long second date") with him in New York. Today during our IM he tells me the bride now lives just down the street from him in Brooklyn. And the she is now divorced. And despite their union ending, I am still talking to my acquaintance, whirl wind, weekend love affair almost 4 years later.
Spur of the moment I IM an old fling from New York who I happened to meet a wedding I went to spur of the moment in Portland. I ended up spending a rocky weekend (or as he would call it, "a long second date") with him in New York. Today during our IM he tells me the bride now lives just down the street from him in Brooklyn. And the she is now divorced. And despite their union ending, I am still talking to my acquaintance, whirl wind, weekend love affair almost 4 years later.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Family introduces me to Japan
(sorry kara - pictures will come soon).
My family has come and gone. What a great time we had. I think it was best put by Alex the Lion in Madagascar 2 who said, "It gets funner the farther away we get". Fact. We had our ups and downs but all that said and done, it was quality family time. WE ROCKED JAPAN for heavens sake! I think the most important part for me was being able to see how we've changed (and how we haven't). I have been waiting for a glimpse of home since I got here and having my mom and Katie here has helped me to see myself. I remembered how much I love to dress up (aka - makeup) I practically stopped wearing (as much of) it since I arrived. I loved having Katie to dress up for. I realized how much Japanese I have actually learned and how beautiful this country is that I live in.
I also learned a hard (but good) lesson. I am a very prideful person. Of course this is something that prideful people don't like to admit, but there it is. It has been a tid difficult adjusting to living in a foreign country on my own, having to struggle to survive and really put myself out of my comfort zone. Because of this, I have learned to puff up quite a bit around people who are English speakers (my friends here and my visitors from the states) because I expect them to share common ground. However, they are not mind readers, they are just people like everyone else. I just have a larger vocabulary to express myself with them and those are choices I am going to have to reintroduce myself to. It feels invigorating to have discovered this about myself.
After having them for only a week I feel completely refreshed. I feel like I have been injected with a dose of Kyla and can now rock the socks off of Japan for the remaining 4 months.
Now, to talk about something other than myself....yes, its possible. A quick list of the things we ventured in J-pan.
1. Friday night , they arrive. I make them Takoyaki and they sleep.
2. Saturday - slept (all day) went to the conbini, Acoop and Comiri then dinner at my favorite restaurant Nishian, with Mary and Talon.
3. Sunday - slept all day.
4. Monday - went to Kyoto. We saw the golden palace (Kinkakuji) and then toured through Arashiyama to see the monkey park. After quite a hike we made it to the top and played with the monkeys. We even ran into my friend Tina and her 2 visitors. Arashiyama was gorgeous, it was the perfect day to site see. We finished it off with a trip to Sanjo. We took an hour break to grab coffee at Starbucks and relax and then we hit the Sanjo market by storm. Mom bought us our keitai dangles (cell phone charms) our change purses etc. and I bought black knee highs and the hottest heels I've bought to date! We took fashion shots and then headed home at 9:00. A long but fierce day!
5. Tuesday - sleep in the morning...visit my school to see the teachers off. School tour then dinner at Satokos! We met Garrett, Ryan's friend from New York, ate and drank until midnight and then went home before we turned into pumpkins.
6. Wednesday - this day was a bum rush! We went to the Heiwado after a sinful lunch at McDonald's. At the Heiwado we took the dollar store by storm and I challenged mom to a Taiko drum off (video game) in the arcade. Then we got our pics taken in the photo booths which were crazy but adorable. It was a 15 minute walk to the station in the rain! eeks. We rushed to the station and then to Shinasahi to meet my friends at Chama only to find it was closed! I also got into a fight with mom because...she kept asking the same question over and over and over and over again. I wasn't the nicest about resolving it, though I said the right words my tone was a mess (deliberately - not very nice). I hurt her feelings, she hurt mine by ignoring me it was a beautifully choreographed mess! Which drug into our visiting my Japanese friends Iho and Asami. woops...but it was nice. I also made the unfortunate mistake and planning a friendly card game with all my ALT friends that night and so we rushed through our coffee and cake to go home and clean. Only Kenji showed up and mom sulked until he left. Then we exposed our feelings about our situation earlier and made amends. I am too stubborn though and as soon as I was breaking down, I walled back up. I have some issues. But we worked it out and chilled out for the rest of the night. I think Mary Poppins was in the Que.
7. Thursday - We went to Gion to see the Geisha (Maiko) dance! It was amazing. We met up with Garrett and Ryan and hit up Mister Donuts and Starbucks on our way out. The show was amazing. Quintessential Japan right before my very eyes shared with my mom and my sister and my hip which had fallen asleep from sitting on the floor the whole time. Quintessential! Then we were suppose to hit up Kiyomizudera but were having such an enjoyable time with the guys we kept on with them up to see the Silver palace. We didn't quite make it in time but the weather was nice and we walked down the philosophers path until we could walk no more. Mom's knee was killing her and my foot was starting to do the same. We grabbed a bus over to Kiyomizudera to see it lit up at night and it was quite spectacular! After a days worth of walking (in flip flops) we grabbed the train home...A 40 oz. Asahi and waffles in hand. Katie, Mom and I lip synced and danced the whole way home. Scandalous! We all slept very well.
8. Friday. Katie and I got into a fight about deodorant. A big fight. But it was all resolved in a hallmark fashion and then we made our way to Chama for lunch. Chama was great. Katie and I had the lunch (grilled chicken w/salad and waffles) and mom had the caramel banana waffles! We talked and talked about life and everything in between. It was great. We strolled through the Chama clothing store on our way out. That evening we cleaned up. Mom and Katie packed while I watched America's Next Top Model. Then we got gussied up and made our way to Imazu for some good ole fashion Karaoke fun! A night full of singing was the perfect end to our trip. Kenji, Mary, Talon, Fionna, Ryan, Garrett, Katie, Mom and I were all in attendance and our songs were some of the best set list I've heard. We arrived at 8:30 and left at 10:35pm, another early night for car-less people. We made a break for the train station but JUST missed it. A first for me. So Kenji, Fionna and our group crammed into a taxi and taxi'd home. At that point we had pretty much used every mode of transportation (minus my bike). Bus, train, taxi, car, walk, ran. It was the full gambet.
9. Saturday : Clean, cram and go! I woke up feeling like shit. My throat was disgustingly cloggy and scratchy but I had to get my family to the airport. There were 6 bags - for 2 people. Thank goodness I was there to help carry the load. We dredged our way to the train station and pulled the bags ourselves up the stairs. I had a nice man help with the largest one. I understood when he asked in Japanese, "what's in here?!?" I told him a body. He laughed and said, "boyfriend?" I said, "old boyfriend!". It was great. At this point we were all broke as a joke. Which is how it should be. I didn't have money to go to the airport ($80 just to go there and back - I don't think so) so I rode the train to Kyoto and dropped them off at their transfer train. It felt like the week had just flown by. We embraced as long as we could. Katie's last words, "come to my house first! I have grass!" and then the doors shut. We waved until the train took off and then I was alone again.
I suppose its just because they were family but I could have had them stay for much longer. It was extremely nice to have other people living in my home and having Katie to fall asleep next to every night (even though she hogged the blankets and breathed on me most of the time) I wouldn't trade it for anything.
I know I can get through these next 4 months. They are baby months that will fly by and then I will be home. eeekkkk. What to do?!? Adventure! It might not be a year in Japan but whatever comes next I know I will have my family close at hand, to always remind me who I am. (rhyme?)
My family has come and gone. What a great time we had. I think it was best put by Alex the Lion in Madagascar 2 who said, "It gets funner the farther away we get". Fact. We had our ups and downs but all that said and done, it was quality family time. WE ROCKED JAPAN for heavens sake! I think the most important part for me was being able to see how we've changed (and how we haven't). I have been waiting for a glimpse of home since I got here and having my mom and Katie here has helped me to see myself. I remembered how much I love to dress up (aka - makeup) I practically stopped wearing (as much of) it since I arrived. I loved having Katie to dress up for. I realized how much Japanese I have actually learned and how beautiful this country is that I live in.
I also learned a hard (but good) lesson. I am a very prideful person. Of course this is something that prideful people don't like to admit, but there it is. It has been a tid difficult adjusting to living in a foreign country on my own, having to struggle to survive and really put myself out of my comfort zone. Because of this, I have learned to puff up quite a bit around people who are English speakers (my friends here and my visitors from the states) because I expect them to share common ground. However, they are not mind readers, they are just people like everyone else. I just have a larger vocabulary to express myself with them and those are choices I am going to have to reintroduce myself to. It feels invigorating to have discovered this about myself.
After having them for only a week I feel completely refreshed. I feel like I have been injected with a dose of Kyla and can now rock the socks off of Japan for the remaining 4 months.
Now, to talk about something other than myself....yes, its possible. A quick list of the things we ventured in J-pan.
1. Friday night , they arrive. I make them Takoyaki and they sleep.
2. Saturday - slept (all day) went to the conbini, Acoop and Comiri then dinner at my favorite restaurant Nishian, with Mary and Talon.
3. Sunday - slept all day.
4. Monday - went to Kyoto. We saw the golden palace (Kinkakuji) and then toured through Arashiyama to see the monkey park. After quite a hike we made it to the top and played with the monkeys. We even ran into my friend Tina and her 2 visitors. Arashiyama was gorgeous, it was the perfect day to site see. We finished it off with a trip to Sanjo. We took an hour break to grab coffee at Starbucks and relax and then we hit the Sanjo market by storm. Mom bought us our keitai dangles (cell phone charms) our change purses etc. and I bought black knee highs and the hottest heels I've bought to date! We took fashion shots and then headed home at 9:00. A long but fierce day!
5. Tuesday - sleep in the morning...visit my school to see the teachers off. School tour then dinner at Satokos! We met Garrett, Ryan's friend from New York, ate and drank until midnight and then went home before we turned into pumpkins.
6. Wednesday - this day was a bum rush! We went to the Heiwado after a sinful lunch at McDonald's. At the Heiwado we took the dollar store by storm and I challenged mom to a Taiko drum off (video game) in the arcade. Then we got our pics taken in the photo booths which were crazy but adorable. It was a 15 minute walk to the station in the rain! eeks. We rushed to the station and then to Shinasahi to meet my friends at Chama only to find it was closed! I also got into a fight with mom because...she kept asking the same question over and over and over and over again. I wasn't the nicest about resolving it, though I said the right words my tone was a mess (deliberately - not very nice). I hurt her feelings, she hurt mine by ignoring me it was a beautifully choreographed mess! Which drug into our visiting my Japanese friends Iho and Asami. woops...but it was nice. I also made the unfortunate mistake and planning a friendly card game with all my ALT friends that night and so we rushed through our coffee and cake to go home and clean. Only Kenji showed up and mom sulked until he left. Then we exposed our feelings about our situation earlier and made amends. I am too stubborn though and as soon as I was breaking down, I walled back up. I have some issues. But we worked it out and chilled out for the rest of the night. I think Mary Poppins was in the Que.
7. Thursday - We went to Gion to see the Geisha (Maiko) dance! It was amazing. We met up with Garrett and Ryan and hit up Mister Donuts and Starbucks on our way out. The show was amazing. Quintessential Japan right before my very eyes shared with my mom and my sister and my hip which had fallen asleep from sitting on the floor the whole time. Quintessential! Then we were suppose to hit up Kiyomizudera but were having such an enjoyable time with the guys we kept on with them up to see the Silver palace. We didn't quite make it in time but the weather was nice and we walked down the philosophers path until we could walk no more. Mom's knee was killing her and my foot was starting to do the same. We grabbed a bus over to Kiyomizudera to see it lit up at night and it was quite spectacular! After a days worth of walking (in flip flops) we grabbed the train home...A 40 oz. Asahi and waffles in hand. Katie, Mom and I lip synced and danced the whole way home. Scandalous! We all slept very well.
8. Friday. Katie and I got into a fight about deodorant. A big fight. But it was all resolved in a hallmark fashion and then we made our way to Chama for lunch. Chama was great. Katie and I had the lunch (grilled chicken w/salad and waffles) and mom had the caramel banana waffles! We talked and talked about life and everything in between. It was great. We strolled through the Chama clothing store on our way out. That evening we cleaned up. Mom and Katie packed while I watched America's Next Top Model. Then we got gussied up and made our way to Imazu for some good ole fashion Karaoke fun! A night full of singing was the perfect end to our trip. Kenji, Mary, Talon, Fionna, Ryan, Garrett, Katie, Mom and I were all in attendance and our songs were some of the best set list I've heard. We arrived at 8:30 and left at 10:35pm, another early night for car-less people. We made a break for the train station but JUST missed it. A first for me. So Kenji, Fionna and our group crammed into a taxi and taxi'd home. At that point we had pretty much used every mode of transportation (minus my bike). Bus, train, taxi, car, walk, ran. It was the full gambet.
9. Saturday : Clean, cram and go! I woke up feeling like shit. My throat was disgustingly cloggy and scratchy but I had to get my family to the airport. There were 6 bags - for 2 people. Thank goodness I was there to help carry the load. We dredged our way to the train station and pulled the bags ourselves up the stairs. I had a nice man help with the largest one. I understood when he asked in Japanese, "what's in here?!?" I told him a body. He laughed and said, "boyfriend?" I said, "old boyfriend!". It was great. At this point we were all broke as a joke. Which is how it should be. I didn't have money to go to the airport ($80 just to go there and back - I don't think so) so I rode the train to Kyoto and dropped them off at their transfer train. It felt like the week had just flown by. We embraced as long as we could. Katie's last words, "come to my house first! I have grass!" and then the doors shut. We waved until the train took off and then I was alone again.
I suppose its just because they were family but I could have had them stay for much longer. It was extremely nice to have other people living in my home and having Katie to fall asleep next to every night (even though she hogged the blankets and breathed on me most of the time) I wouldn't trade it for anything.
I know I can get through these next 4 months. They are baby months that will fly by and then I will be home. eeekkkk. What to do?!? Adventure! It might not be a year in Japan but whatever comes next I know I will have my family close at hand, to always remind me who I am. (rhyme?)
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