sympathy: /ˈsɪmpəθi/ (noun) feelings of pity and sorrow for someone else's misfortune
Origin: (via Latin from Greek) sumpatheia, from sun- 'with' + pathos 'feeling'
empathy: /ˈɛmpəθi/ (noun) the ability to understand and share the feelings of another
Origin: (from Greek) empatheia, from em- 'in' + pathos 'feeling'
One thing I've always prided myself in was my empathy. It's the reason why I can be such a cry-baby when I watch movies or read books sometimes. I can't help it. I put myself in the character's shoes and all of a sudden I can't see past what it must be like for them: the frustration, the despair, the heartache, the grief. I imagine all the thoughts that must be running through their heads. I don't just imagine them though, I think them. I think about what it would be like if I heard the words they were hearing. It's worse when it's not just a fiction though; when it's a living, breathing person; when that person is my friend. My heart breaks with each torn inch of theirs.
That was what ultimately deterred me from going into psychology. I didn't think I had the emotional strength to withstand the battering of my patients' emotional baggage. But on the other hand, it's one of my strengths. I'm able to listen to others and see through their motivations and rationalizations. I'd rather be thin-skinned than thick. On that path lies apathy which is:
apathy: /ˈæpəθi/ (noun) absence or suppression of passion, emotion, or excitement; lack of interest in or concern for things that others find moving or exciting.
Origin: (from Greek) apathīa from a- 'without' + pathos 'feeling'
Showing posts with label feelings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feelings. Show all posts
Friday, January 30, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Spring Break and the PI
No, PI does NOT stand for Private Investigator. PI stands for the Philippine Islands, i.e. the archipelago southwest of Japan, the archipelago that I currently inhabit. It is also my ancestral home, my birthplace, my homeland. It is the place of my dreams, not memories, because I was too young to form any that remain. It's an odd thing...to see photos of yourself in a place and have no recollection of it or having ever been there. You have to take others' word. You take it on hearsay.
Pin suggested that Katy, Stacey, Brian, he and I go somewhere for spring break. One of the possibilities being the PI. I think that I've either been underestimating or just not realizing how much of an effect going to the PI might have on me. Honestly, it wasn't until Pin mentioned it last night that I remembered that it WOULD be my first time back...and I might not be ready to do that with a group of friends. I think I've been so focused on how my mom and family would react, that I didn't bother to think about how I would.
I think I would feel, and even though I know that he and the rest of them would tell me that I don't have to feel thus, responsible for everyone. Not just responsible because I can understand what people say when they're not speaking in English, but responsible for making sure everyone has a good time, because it IS my country. I don't know if I'm ready for that, especially never having been there since I left. I'd feel as much a stranger as they would, but I'd feel obligated not to be.
Pin suggested that Katy, Stacey, Brian, he and I go somewhere for spring break. One of the possibilities being the PI. I think that I've either been underestimating or just not realizing how much of an effect going to the PI might have on me. Honestly, it wasn't until Pin mentioned it last night that I remembered that it WOULD be my first time back...and I might not be ready to do that with a group of friends. I think I've been so focused on how my mom and family would react, that I didn't bother to think about how I would.
I think I would feel, and even though I know that he and the rest of them would tell me that I don't have to feel thus, responsible for everyone. Not just responsible because I can understand what people say when they're not speaking in English, but responsible for making sure everyone has a good time, because it IS my country. I don't know if I'm ready for that, especially never having been there since I left. I'd feel as much a stranger as they would, but I'd feel obligated not to be.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Clueless?
So a few weeks before I left for Seattle, I met two Japanese girls through a friend who had gone to the zoo with them earlier in the day. We ended up hanging out and shopping around downtown Shizuoka. They seemed like nice, friendly girls even though they were a few years younger than me.
Over the course of getting to know one another, I revealed my passion for cooking and my desire to go to culinary arts school in France. They were rather excited by this, being recent college graduates with little experience cooking for themselves. They asked me to teach them to cook sometime, which I readily agreed to, assuming that it would happen in the vague, distant future that 'sometime' seemed to imply. I was wrong. Apparently, 'sometime' means 'as soon as possible.'
Since I've been back, I've gotten 3 messages via Facebook and my keitai asking when we're going to do it. I'm normally one of the more...energetic people that you'll meet, especially in regards to food and cooking, but the girl that's been messaging me is a bit too...enthusiastic even for me.
I told Travis that it's a bit like your little sister wanting to tag onto everything you do because she thinks it's cool. He said he'd never had a little sister so he couldn't relate to the analogy, so I tried another. "She's that nerdy kid that you reached out to once because you wanted to give them a chance, and then became your constant hanger-on."
Am I wrong for feeling claustrophobic when I get these messages?
Over the course of getting to know one another, I revealed my passion for cooking and my desire to go to culinary arts school in France. They were rather excited by this, being recent college graduates with little experience cooking for themselves. They asked me to teach them to cook sometime, which I readily agreed to, assuming that it would happen in the vague, distant future that 'sometime' seemed to imply. I was wrong. Apparently, 'sometime' means 'as soon as possible.'
Since I've been back, I've gotten 3 messages via Facebook and my keitai asking when we're going to do it. I'm normally one of the more...energetic people that you'll meet, especially in regards to food and cooking, but the girl that's been messaging me is a bit too...enthusiastic even for me.
I told Travis that it's a bit like your little sister wanting to tag onto everything you do because she thinks it's cool. He said he'd never had a little sister so he couldn't relate to the analogy, so I tried another. "She's that nerdy kid that you reached out to once because you wanted to give them a chance, and then became your constant hanger-on."
Am I wrong for feeling claustrophobic when I get these messages?
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
The L Bomb
Sooooo...I dropped it the other weekend.
If you don't have any idea what that means, I'll give you a hint. It refers to a particular boy from Seattle/Wenatchee, currently residing in Gunma. Get it now?
It had nearly slipped out a few times when we were saying goodbye online and on Skype while I was in Seattle. Nearly, but I managed to catch myself since that's not really something you say for the first time when you're on the other side of the largest ocean in the world, unless of course, you permanently live on opposite shores. Luckily, we don't and he's in Japan, albeit 6 hours away.
My flight came in on the afternoon of the 6th. We met up in Tokyo station and trained it back to my house together. I was going to start school the next day, luckily just opening ceremony scheduled, but he had about an extra week so he decided to spend it with me, even though I'd be working during the day.
Actually it worked out quite well because, while it began with a joke about him being my 'house-husband', after he went out for some errands and we made dinner together, he decided that he rather preferred it. Which was good because when I tried to do the same thing at the end of summer vacation, I concluded that I wasn't cut out for the housewife lifestyle. Seriously though, it wouldn't be such a bad situation: he, being a writer, could write and run errands during the day while I, as a chef, would work and 'bring home the bacon'.
I guess it was those thoughts of the future, as well as his sending me flowers in Seattle for our anniversary AND flowers to my family for the holidays, that prompted me to say those very scary, very fragile three words.
For the first few days, it had been on my mind but like I said, they are scary words to utter, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to say them. I came close a few times, but always shied away. Finally, one night we were in my goro-goro room, since the kerosene heater was there, and I missed sleeping in a futon after three weeks of being in my Seattle bed. We had hung out for most of the day, played a game of shogi (Japanese chess), and I was lying on top of him when he asked (as we routinely do of one another), "Why do you put up with me?" I hesitated for a minute, looked into his eyes and replied, "Because I love you."
I've never been more scared of anyone's reaction. My boyfriends have always said it to me first and that takes off an unbelievable amount of pressure. Of course, I guess I didn't really need to worry about it because he reacted in typical fashion: treated it like a joke and poked my nose. Not that I was really expecting him to say it back either. I just felt like, my feelings were what they were, *disirregardless* of his feelings, and I wanted him to know how I felt.
If you don't have any idea what that means, I'll give you a hint. It refers to a particular boy from Seattle/Wenatchee, currently residing in Gunma. Get it now?
It had nearly slipped out a few times when we were saying goodbye online and on Skype while I was in Seattle. Nearly, but I managed to catch myself since that's not really something you say for the first time when you're on the other side of the largest ocean in the world, unless of course, you permanently live on opposite shores. Luckily, we don't and he's in Japan, albeit 6 hours away.
My flight came in on the afternoon of the 6th. We met up in Tokyo station and trained it back to my house together. I was going to start school the next day, luckily just opening ceremony scheduled, but he had about an extra week so he decided to spend it with me, even though I'd be working during the day.
Actually it worked out quite well because, while it began with a joke about him being my 'house-husband', after he went out for some errands and we made dinner together, he decided that he rather preferred it. Which was good because when I tried to do the same thing at the end of summer vacation, I concluded that I wasn't cut out for the housewife lifestyle. Seriously though, it wouldn't be such a bad situation: he, being a writer, could write and run errands during the day while I, as a chef, would work and 'bring home the bacon'.
I guess it was those thoughts of the future, as well as his sending me flowers in Seattle for our anniversary AND flowers to my family for the holidays, that prompted me to say those very scary, very fragile three words.
For the first few days, it had been on my mind but like I said, they are scary words to utter, and I wasn't sure if I was ready to say them. I came close a few times, but always shied away. Finally, one night we were in my goro-goro room, since the kerosene heater was there, and I missed sleeping in a futon after three weeks of being in my Seattle bed. We had hung out for most of the day, played a game of shogi (Japanese chess), and I was lying on top of him when he asked (as we routinely do of one another), "Why do you put up with me?" I hesitated for a minute, looked into his eyes and replied, "Because I love you."
I've never been more scared of anyone's reaction. My boyfriends have always said it to me first and that takes off an unbelievable amount of pressure. Of course, I guess I didn't really need to worry about it because he reacted in typical fashion: treated it like a joke and poked my nose. Not that I was really expecting him to say it back either. I just felt like, my feelings were what they were, *disirregardless* of his feelings, and I wanted him to know how I felt.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Settling
So it's been over a week since I've been back, and I think I finally FEEL back.
Seattle was fun though slightly disappointing because of being snowed in for 2 out of the 3 weeks I was home. The weather has not been kind to me in the last month. But the pictures of a white Christmas were nice, and I did catch up on a lot of movies and American TV. Plus, I got to spend a lot of time with my neice Kyla, which is all too precious of a commodity these days. My dad seemed all right and about the same, though my mom seemed to imply otherwise in some comments, along with the ever-present desire that I come back to Seattle.
The thing is, it's not going to happen. While I liked seeing my friends and family, being back there only made me realize how much I want to be in Japan. Partly because I love having a place of my own, partly because I love living abroad, and most importantly because I LOVE living in Japan.
While I was home, I met up with Ryan, an ALT from Gunma that I met briefly in Tokyo for a friend's birthday celebration consisting of a night of clubbing and post-dancing Italian food, and my boy Branden. I guess because both of them are of Japanese descent, their ties to Japan are much stronger than mine, yet I find it odd that I'm the one that's stayed and is staying here for longer. Neither of them has much desire to travel or live in other places. I on the other hand, continue to want to go anywhere, everywhere. Hmm, that's proving a rarer quality in people that I'd previously thought.
Seattle was fun though slightly disappointing because of being snowed in for 2 out of the 3 weeks I was home. The weather has not been kind to me in the last month. But the pictures of a white Christmas were nice, and I did catch up on a lot of movies and American TV. Plus, I got to spend a lot of time with my neice Kyla, which is all too precious of a commodity these days. My dad seemed all right and about the same, though my mom seemed to imply otherwise in some comments, along with the ever-present desire that I come back to Seattle.
The thing is, it's not going to happen. While I liked seeing my friends and family, being back there only made me realize how much I want to be in Japan. Partly because I love having a place of my own, partly because I love living abroad, and most importantly because I LOVE living in Japan.
While I was home, I met up with Ryan, an ALT from Gunma that I met briefly in Tokyo for a friend's birthday celebration consisting of a night of clubbing and post-dancing Italian food, and my boy Branden. I guess because both of them are of Japanese descent, their ties to Japan are much stronger than mine, yet I find it odd that I'm the one that's stayed and is staying here for longer. Neither of them has much desire to travel or live in other places. I on the other hand, continue to want to go anywhere, everywhere. Hmm, that's proving a rarer quality in people that I'd previously thought.
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Callused, but not Callous
A number of weeks ago, I noticed a callus on the palm of my hand, below my pinky finger. I hadn't been doing a lot of undue exercise or hanging off of bars or cleaning my house, so I wondered what it was from. It was strange since it was only on my right hand, not on my left. Several weeks later, I was riding my bike home from work and I realized what caused it. It was from holding onto my bike's handlebars. The reason it was only on my right was because I hold the right handlebar differently, in order to hover over the front brake lever.
Such a tiny thing, why even bring it up? Because in this tiny piece of hardened skin, is my life in Japan. It is something that has developed over days, weeks, months of riding that bike: to school, to the station, to the supermarket. It only exists because I've spent the last 2 and half years here.
Last night, while I stopped at McDonald's (yes, I know, it's horrible) for a quick snack, the theme song of Rent was playing inside MegaMart. One verse goes, “525, 600 minutes- how do you measure, measure a year?” I thought about that, and thought of my callus.
Time: seconds, minutes, years, these are all abstract concepts. Terms that we apply to describe the passing of time. But isn't my callus more of a testament to the seasons than all the terminology we toss about? It represents a physical change in me, something that at least attests to the greater mental and emotional change wrought in myself after spending so long out of the states, away from home. Long enough that I've created another.
Part of my captivation with this callus is that I'm on the verge of going back to that previous home, yet again. It will be the fourth time I've returned, my third Christmas...in Seattle. I hesitated for a minute there because I wanted to say, my third Christmas abroad, but then I realized, Japan is the 'abroad' and that Seattle, America, is supposed to be my home. Is it any longer? I don't feel like it is. I'm excited to go, to see my family, my friends, but I view it as a place I'm going to for 'vacation', not a place that I live anymore.
Yesterday I chatted with my friend Ray on gmail and recommended a Japanese movie that I thought he might like. Pin showed it to me and joked that the title sounded more appropriate for a porno than an anime, “Byosoku go senchimetoru” or 5 Centimeters per Second. Rather, it refers to the speed at which cherry blossoms are said to fall. It is about one boy and his relationships, particularly his first love, and the distance that separates them.
The stories are rather sad, but what we both liked about them was again, something little. They would cut these shots of Japanese things into the scenes. Normal things, like the handles hanging from the roof of a train car, or slippers at a genkan. My favorite one was this shot of a washing machine. It was just completing a load, but it struck me how familiar it was, from its looks to its whirring noise and the beeps it made. So completely mundane. Yet, if I only lived in Seattle, I probably would have no clue what that shot was of, and then promptly dismissed it from my thoughts. Instead, it helped create a fuller, more real picture of these characters lives. Life in Japan. A life that I share more and more.
Such a tiny thing, why even bring it up? Because in this tiny piece of hardened skin, is my life in Japan. It is something that has developed over days, weeks, months of riding that bike: to school, to the station, to the supermarket. It only exists because I've spent the last 2 and half years here.
Last night, while I stopped at McDonald's (yes, I know, it's horrible) for a quick snack, the theme song of Rent was playing inside MegaMart. One verse goes, “525, 600 minutes- how do you measure, measure a year?” I thought about that, and thought of my callus.
Time: seconds, minutes, years, these are all abstract concepts. Terms that we apply to describe the passing of time. But isn't my callus more of a testament to the seasons than all the terminology we toss about? It represents a physical change in me, something that at least attests to the greater mental and emotional change wrought in myself after spending so long out of the states, away from home. Long enough that I've created another.
Part of my captivation with this callus is that I'm on the verge of going back to that previous home, yet again. It will be the fourth time I've returned, my third Christmas...in Seattle. I hesitated for a minute there because I wanted to say, my third Christmas abroad, but then I realized, Japan is the 'abroad' and that Seattle, America, is supposed to be my home. Is it any longer? I don't feel like it is. I'm excited to go, to see my family, my friends, but I view it as a place I'm going to for 'vacation', not a place that I live anymore.
Yesterday I chatted with my friend Ray on gmail and recommended a Japanese movie that I thought he might like. Pin showed it to me and joked that the title sounded more appropriate for a porno than an anime, “Byosoku go senchimetoru” or 5 Centimeters per Second. Rather, it refers to the speed at which cherry blossoms are said to fall. It is about one boy and his relationships, particularly his first love, and the distance that separates them.
The stories are rather sad, but what we both liked about them was again, something little. They would cut these shots of Japanese things into the scenes. Normal things, like the handles hanging from the roof of a train car, or slippers at a genkan. My favorite one was this shot of a washing machine. It was just completing a load, but it struck me how familiar it was, from its looks to its whirring noise and the beeps it made. So completely mundane. Yet, if I only lived in Seattle, I probably would have no clue what that shot was of, and then promptly dismissed it from my thoughts. Instead, it helped create a fuller, more real picture of these characters lives. Life in Japan. A life that I share more and more.
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
The good, the bad, and the children...
I've had several conversations with different boyfriends over the years about realism and idealism. These discussions have helped define and refine my own beliefs about people and their natures.
Bryce was a steadfast realist, which caused a lot of tension in our relationship. One thing that drew George to me, and I to him, was our shared idealism. Travis reminds me of Bryce, but he's pointed out a particular difference between them: He is a realist with strong idealist leanings. It's a good compromise. Pin and I are both idealists, but I think for different reasons. Pin has, what I believe, is an idealism rooted in nostalgia. He believes that we are born innocent and good, and that it's life's lessons that harden us, that screw us up. He points to children as models of what we should strive to be.
As Travis and I discussed an article I sent him about a new genetic test that can be used to determine which sport(s) your child might be best suited to, I found what lay at the heart of my idealism. It's my connectedness to other people. I don't think that I'm that different or special. I believe that, if I can come to think a certain way about something, I don't see what's stopping other people from coming to think the same way as well. Granted, things like education do come into play, but that can't eliminate a HUGE percentage of the population, like my realist friends seem to believe. They believe that it's preposterous to expect more from them; that people are actually intelligent.
I feel it's preposterous to think I'm the only one that thinks thus. Wouldn't more people think this way? It's not just limited to the way people think, however. It's the same with wanting to be a good person. Or being 'nice', as many of my friends have described me. They tell me that I'm so nice, and say it with such...surprise, that I find myself amazed at that. Have they really met so few nice people? And why would you choose to be otherwise, if given a choice? That's one thing I can't fathom. Yes, people make mistakes, and we don't always do the 'nice', the 'good' thing all the time. We're not perfect. But I believe that for the most part, people are good, that they WANT to be.
I disagree with Pin. I don't think that we are born good, I think that we can only be truly good when we have knowledge, both of good and bad. We are not innately good. We CHOOSE to be good. Life, and its lessons, do not confuse us. They teach us. We learn, we grow, and I believe, we become better people.
Bryce was a steadfast realist, which caused a lot of tension in our relationship. One thing that drew George to me, and I to him, was our shared idealism. Travis reminds me of Bryce, but he's pointed out a particular difference between them: He is a realist with strong idealist leanings. It's a good compromise. Pin and I are both idealists, but I think for different reasons. Pin has, what I believe, is an idealism rooted in nostalgia. He believes that we are born innocent and good, and that it's life's lessons that harden us, that screw us up. He points to children as models of what we should strive to be.
As Travis and I discussed an article I sent him about a new genetic test that can be used to determine which sport(s) your child might be best suited to, I found what lay at the heart of my idealism. It's my connectedness to other people. I don't think that I'm that different or special. I believe that, if I can come to think a certain way about something, I don't see what's stopping other people from coming to think the same way as well. Granted, things like education do come into play, but that can't eliminate a HUGE percentage of the population, like my realist friends seem to believe. They believe that it's preposterous to expect more from them; that people are actually intelligent.
I feel it's preposterous to think I'm the only one that thinks thus. Wouldn't more people think this way? It's not just limited to the way people think, however. It's the same with wanting to be a good person. Or being 'nice', as many of my friends have described me. They tell me that I'm so nice, and say it with such...surprise, that I find myself amazed at that. Have they really met so few nice people? And why would you choose to be otherwise, if given a choice? That's one thing I can't fathom. Yes, people make mistakes, and we don't always do the 'nice', the 'good' thing all the time. We're not perfect. But I believe that for the most part, people are good, that they WANT to be.
I disagree with Pin. I don't think that we are born good, I think that we can only be truly good when we have knowledge, both of good and bad. We are not innately good. We CHOOSE to be good. Life, and its lessons, do not confuse us. They teach us. We learn, we grow, and I believe, we become better people.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
My Make-Believe Roommate
So I have a friend named Pin, likely the only Pin I will ever meet or know in my life.
I met him about 2 years ago in Shimizu, while I was at the Docomo store with Albert trying to get my keitai (cell phone). For the first year and a half, our relationship mainly consisted of hanging out and seeing each other through various friends with whom we were closer. Prompted by his transferring to Fujinomiya to take over for another friend who was returning to the states, we began getting dinners together in Kambara, which was on his way home from school.
Since then, we have dinner together at least once a week, freely stay at one another's apartments, both with and without the other one present, and text one another on a near daily basis. It is a rare, and slightly unsettling, week when we don't see one another.
It has taken a while, but he's opened up to me a lot. Not necessarily about everything, but I don't expect that. I've long since realized that he is rather stoic, despite also being acutely sensitive. I'm used to laying things all out there, but I know that when he doesn't, it's not a reflection on me, just that he feels there are some things that need to be said, and others that don't.
We've half-joked about becoming roommates...Lately, as he's considering the possibility of staying in Japan for another year, he's taken to checking out 'perfect apartments' for us. Main requirements being: good location, big kitchen (since we both like to cook and EAT), bedrooms on opposite ends (so that we can 'bang for days without the other one knowing'), and enough space to entertain friends. He even texted me the other day about what a typical Sunday might consist of.
Gee, starting to sound like he's either my gay friend or my boyfriend. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he's neither. I guess it's enough that he's one of my adopted older brothers. Someone that I know I can count on to go out for a drink or to buy me one when I need it.
I met him about 2 years ago in Shimizu, while I was at the Docomo store with Albert trying to get my keitai (cell phone). For the first year and a half, our relationship mainly consisted of hanging out and seeing each other through various friends with whom we were closer. Prompted by his transferring to Fujinomiya to take over for another friend who was returning to the states, we began getting dinners together in Kambara, which was on his way home from school.
Since then, we have dinner together at least once a week, freely stay at one another's apartments, both with and without the other one present, and text one another on a near daily basis. It is a rare, and slightly unsettling, week when we don't see one another.
It has taken a while, but he's opened up to me a lot. Not necessarily about everything, but I don't expect that. I've long since realized that he is rather stoic, despite also being acutely sensitive. I'm used to laying things all out there, but I know that when he doesn't, it's not a reflection on me, just that he feels there are some things that need to be said, and others that don't.
We've half-joked about becoming roommates...Lately, as he's considering the possibility of staying in Japan for another year, he's taken to checking out 'perfect apartments' for us. Main requirements being: good location, big kitchen (since we both like to cook and EAT), bedrooms on opposite ends (so that we can 'bang for days without the other one knowing'), and enough space to entertain friends. He even texted me the other day about what a typical Sunday might consist of.
Gee, starting to sound like he's either my gay friend or my boyfriend. Fortunately, or unfortunately, he's neither. I guess it's enough that he's one of my adopted older brothers. Someone that I know I can count on to go out for a drink or to buy me one when I need it.
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Seito
Yesterday, I meant to leave at 4:30 for the second day in a row, but ended up staying with students until 6 afterschool. And I have no regrets about having done so.
Monday, I headed up to the san-nensei hallway to see if some of my favorite 35HR girls were up there studying. Instead, I ran into two 35 boys and two 33 boys. The two were from the "boy's class" I had while they were second years, infamous for the one student that was basically sexually harassing me during classtime. Needless to say, I didn't necessarily have a good impression of any of the boys in that class. But they totally brought me around.
I don't know how it really began, I think I might've asked how the English proficiency test that they took on Sunday went, but from there we ended up talking about music, movies, famous people, languages, university and what they were going to study, and of course, boys and girls and boyfriends and girlfriends. It was then that I realized that I haven't been taking advantage of my unique position at the school as much as I used to. For those boys, I was an 'approachable' girl, because I wasn't Japanese so I'm not afraid or shy about hanging out with them. Plus, as an ALT, I'm not quite a full-fledged teacher, and am also younger than most of the other teachers, so they can relate to me better.
The one thing was that, after I suggested to one of the boys that he text me in French after he graduates, another one asked if we could "asobimashou" i. e. play together after they graduated. I agreed, and then one says, "Tequila!" followed by chimes of "Beer!" Ah, they are adolescent boys after all. At first I tried to point out that even if they were graduates, they were still 2 years younger than the legal limit, but I realized that that would've been hypocritical, so I trailed off with a "Well, as long as you're not in uniform..." Then, when we started packing up and heading home, they thanked me "for my time." I thought that was really sweet.
Yesterday kinda went the same way: I had to wait for the teachers to return to the teacher's room from a meeting that I didn't know was happening, to stand guard against the students having full access to said room. 5 o'clock hit, and I 'osaki-ni-shitsurei shimashita'-ed myself out of there. But, I got to the hallway linking the two buildings and heard the girls playing basketball in the gym to my left.
Bouyed by the great experience of connecting with the boys the previous day, I mounted the steps and walked over. The 6 girls playing swiveled their heads as one as I got to entrance, followed by greetings of welcome. I stepped in and for a while just watched them practice their shots. After a while, their coach came and they began various drills. I stayed to the side and chatted with two of the girls: one the manager and one a player who wasn't feeling well that day, punctuated by my eardrums getting nearly blown out by the signal going off every 6 minutes per drill. When they started shooting practice again, I decided to shoot some hoops too.
It's been a while. I think the last time I did so in a real gym was in high school, over 7 years ago. I'm a horrible shot. But, I didn't care. At some point during it, I started enjoying it. Shooting, dribbling, running after the ball after it rebounded off the backboard. The whole time, I thought about Pin and his love for this game, and I understood a bit. I'm certainly not going to play in a game anytime soon, but before I left, I asked them to teach me to how to shoot a ball.
I stayed til their practice was over, and after they stood in a circle, bowed and said thank you to their coach with an "arigatou gozaimashita" (something that I'm a bit familiar with, having to do so in tea ceremony club), they came over to me, stood in a circle and thanked me with the same Japanese formality. I felt a bit over-whelmed since I thought I was just being "jama" and in the way, interrupting their practice and all. But they thanked me for my time (just like the boys) in English, and invited me to come again.
How can you not love these kids?
Monday, I headed up to the san-nensei hallway to see if some of my favorite 35HR girls were up there studying. Instead, I ran into two 35 boys and two 33 boys. The two were from the "boy's class" I had while they were second years, infamous for the one student that was basically sexually harassing me during classtime. Needless to say, I didn't necessarily have a good impression of any of the boys in that class. But they totally brought me around.
I don't know how it really began, I think I might've asked how the English proficiency test that they took on Sunday went, but from there we ended up talking about music, movies, famous people, languages, university and what they were going to study, and of course, boys and girls and boyfriends and girlfriends. It was then that I realized that I haven't been taking advantage of my unique position at the school as much as I used to. For those boys, I was an 'approachable' girl, because I wasn't Japanese so I'm not afraid or shy about hanging out with them. Plus, as an ALT, I'm not quite a full-fledged teacher, and am also younger than most of the other teachers, so they can relate to me better.
The one thing was that, after I suggested to one of the boys that he text me in French after he graduates, another one asked if we could "asobimashou" i. e. play together after they graduated. I agreed, and then one says, "Tequila!" followed by chimes of "Beer!" Ah, they are adolescent boys after all. At first I tried to point out that even if they were graduates, they were still 2 years younger than the legal limit, but I realized that that would've been hypocritical, so I trailed off with a "Well, as long as you're not in uniform..." Then, when we started packing up and heading home, they thanked me "for my time." I thought that was really sweet.
Yesterday kinda went the same way: I had to wait for the teachers to return to the teacher's room from a meeting that I didn't know was happening, to stand guard against the students having full access to said room. 5 o'clock hit, and I 'osaki-ni-shitsurei shimashita'-ed myself out of there. But, I got to the hallway linking the two buildings and heard the girls playing basketball in the gym to my left.
Bouyed by the great experience of connecting with the boys the previous day, I mounted the steps and walked over. The 6 girls playing swiveled their heads as one as I got to entrance, followed by greetings of welcome. I stepped in and for a while just watched them practice their shots. After a while, their coach came and they began various drills. I stayed to the side and chatted with two of the girls: one the manager and one a player who wasn't feeling well that day, punctuated by my eardrums getting nearly blown out by the signal going off every 6 minutes per drill. When they started shooting practice again, I decided to shoot some hoops too.
It's been a while. I think the last time I did so in a real gym was in high school, over 7 years ago. I'm a horrible shot. But, I didn't care. At some point during it, I started enjoying it. Shooting, dribbling, running after the ball after it rebounded off the backboard. The whole time, I thought about Pin and his love for this game, and I understood a bit. I'm certainly not going to play in a game anytime soon, but before I left, I asked them to teach me to how to shoot a ball.
I stayed til their practice was over, and after they stood in a circle, bowed and said thank you to their coach with an "arigatou gozaimashita" (something that I'm a bit familiar with, having to do so in tea ceremony club), they came over to me, stood in a circle and thanked me with the same Japanese formality. I felt a bit over-whelmed since I thought I was just being "jama" and in the way, interrupting their practice and all. But they thanked me for my time (just like the boys) in English, and invited me to come again.
How can you not love these kids?
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Space and Perspective: Retroactive Post
I began our break thinking: This is about giving him time to see if he can commit to me, and that maybe we need this because we need to do something different. Haven't we spent enough time thinking, talking, waiting? Maybe action is what we need. After all, it's been a year since he first got here.
Then my thoughts became: Oh god, three months is a long time. What if he finds someone new? What if he was right and this really is the end? despite my natural optimism that if we're really meant to be, if we're really as good for each other as I think we are, it will work out and we WILL be together.
Which led to: I miss him. I don't want to do this. I can't do this for three months. This sucks, and I can't think of anything else except for him and how I'm not going to have any of those moments with him for a long time.
After emails of articles that I probably shouldn't have sent, for the simple reason that I had to question my intentions for doing so (something which he later called me on), and him contacting me online after days spent hoping/dreading that I would see him, I sent out an SOS to my friend Vandy.
Talking with her finally made me realize that this break is really about him and completely changed my perspective about it. I am finally okay with giving him space because I'm seeing him like a friend for the first time. I really do care about him, maybe even love him, but because of that I can let him go, for his own good.
I've underestimated how much living in Japan has taken its toll on him. All of my efforts have served to do the opposite of what I intended. I know that he hasn't wanted to treat me like a crutch, he is really independent and for all that I offer to help, it doesn't. Because that's not what he needs.
He just needs to know that I'm here for him if he needs me, but not to press it on him. That was what he meant about wanting me to sit there, or hold him and not say anything. All of his energy has gone into dealing with Japan, and he doesn't have anything left for me, which is why he hasn't been able to give me more, why he thinks that he CAN'T give me more.
I've realized that this all has more to do with him and Japan and not me, not us. It's not US that's the problem: it's US in JAPAN. He's tried to tell me that, but I haven't been able to understand, or maybe I've just thought that he hasn't had the balls to tell me he doesn't really want to be with me, that he's just been using Japan as an excuse.
Which is why, I've come to the point that even if he doesn't want to be with me in three months, if he really can't, I'm all right with that. I want him to be happy, I want to give him the time and the space to really develop a life here, one that he's happy with, one that doesn't frustrate him because he feels more like a child and instead of an adult.
Maybe that's the resentment that I've been sensing. It's resentment, as if my help is more like condescension. Vandy said that maybe we both need to learn from one another, to learn how to deal with solving problems in a different way, and that maybe he needs to learn a little from me about talking about them, and I need to learn a little from him about being more patient.
So on that note, I think I'm ready. Ready to wait, to REALLY wait for him, because I think he's worth it. I just hope that he realizes that he is too.
Then my thoughts became: Oh god, three months is a long time. What if he finds someone new? What if he was right and this really is the end? despite my natural optimism that if we're really meant to be, if we're really as good for each other as I think we are, it will work out and we WILL be together.
Which led to: I miss him. I don't want to do this. I can't do this for three months. This sucks, and I can't think of anything else except for him and how I'm not going to have any of those moments with him for a long time.
After emails of articles that I probably shouldn't have sent, for the simple reason that I had to question my intentions for doing so (something which he later called me on), and him contacting me online after days spent hoping/dreading that I would see him, I sent out an SOS to my friend Vandy.
Talking with her finally made me realize that this break is really about him and completely changed my perspective about it. I am finally okay with giving him space because I'm seeing him like a friend for the first time. I really do care about him, maybe even love him, but because of that I can let him go, for his own good.
I've underestimated how much living in Japan has taken its toll on him. All of my efforts have served to do the opposite of what I intended. I know that he hasn't wanted to treat me like a crutch, he is really independent and for all that I offer to help, it doesn't. Because that's not what he needs.
He just needs to know that I'm here for him if he needs me, but not to press it on him. That was what he meant about wanting me to sit there, or hold him and not say anything. All of his energy has gone into dealing with Japan, and he doesn't have anything left for me, which is why he hasn't been able to give me more, why he thinks that he CAN'T give me more.
I've realized that this all has more to do with him and Japan and not me, not us. It's not US that's the problem: it's US in JAPAN. He's tried to tell me that, but I haven't been able to understand, or maybe I've just thought that he hasn't had the balls to tell me he doesn't really want to be with me, that he's just been using Japan as an excuse.
Which is why, I've come to the point that even if he doesn't want to be with me in three months, if he really can't, I'm all right with that. I want him to be happy, I want to give him the time and the space to really develop a life here, one that he's happy with, one that doesn't frustrate him because he feels more like a child and instead of an adult.
Maybe that's the resentment that I've been sensing. It's resentment, as if my help is more like condescension. Vandy said that maybe we both need to learn from one another, to learn how to deal with solving problems in a different way, and that maybe he needs to learn a little from me about talking about them, and I need to learn a little from him about being more patient.
So on that note, I think I'm ready. Ready to wait, to REALLY wait for him, because I think he's worth it. I just hope that he realizes that he is too.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
The Way of Tea: Retroactive Post
A few weeks ago, my sado-bu teacher gave me this book and I just started reading it the other day.
The Book of Tea
It's DEEP, in the way that I remember Albert talking about other writings on Asian practices, like Buddhism or Kung Fu. I think I'm finally getting to the point where I'm getting past the superficial layers of this 'hobby' and really getting to the meat of it. It's enlightening and moving in a way that I have found lacking in religion or other spiritual writings.
I certainly don't want to be one of the New Age-y generation that comes from America and falls into "Asia" and takes up tai chi and becomes Buddhist or whatever, but I can see the draw. Living here does change you, in ways more subtle than you realize, and I think that I am certainly the better for it.
It's a tiny book, and one can easily finish it in an hour of reading, but another thing I've learned while in Japan is the value of 'slow' and doing things slowly. This is just the type of thing that deserves to be read and enjoyed and digested (mentally), slowly; that is better for having done so.
The Book of Tea
It's DEEP, in the way that I remember Albert talking about other writings on Asian practices, like Buddhism or Kung Fu. I think I'm finally getting to the point where I'm getting past the superficial layers of this 'hobby' and really getting to the meat of it. It's enlightening and moving in a way that I have found lacking in religion or other spiritual writings.
I certainly don't want to be one of the New Age-y generation that comes from America and falls into "Asia" and takes up tai chi and becomes Buddhist or whatever, but I can see the draw. Living here does change you, in ways more subtle than you realize, and I think that I am certainly the better for it.
It's a tiny book, and one can easily finish it in an hour of reading, but another thing I've learned while in Japan is the value of 'slow' and doing things slowly. This is just the type of thing that deserves to be read and enjoyed and digested (mentally), slowly; that is better for having done so.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
Mid-Winter Blues: Retroactive Post
Maybe it's something about the snow, or the cold, or wanting to stay in and revel in the warmth...but winter, a real winter, seems to bring out an overwhelming sense of nostalgia and the need to reminisce, and of course following that line of thinking in time and inevitably wondering about the future. Leaving Sapporo yesterday morning, I was struck by that sense of natsukashii (nostalgia) as we made our way via train of course, from Sapporo station to Chitose airport. Looking out over land, trees, houses, cars, everything until the horizon, covered in snow, I couldn't help but remember the only other time in my life when I spent a winter like that.
It was when I was interning at the legislature and living down in Olympia. It was my first time living away from my family, and I was renting a room out of this woman's house, along with two other UW Asian girls, Sunny and Mary. Our landlady was awesome, our rent was really cheap and she pretty much let us have the run of the house. Sunny and Mary were great roommates, we got along on pretty much everything including a requisite love of good cheese, though they did force me from the kitchen the mornings that they made their tuna-fish sandwiches...
My family helped me move my stuff down earlier in the day, and then Sunny arrived in the afternoon. We had a fun time trekking to the capitol in our landlady's sons' old-school snow pants, as we were petite Asian girls and they were tall, tall boys. Mary arrived the next day and by then, there was lots of snow already on the ground. I remember our mornings checking how our outfits looked with one another and trading clothes or shoes when necessary. I also remember staying up late into the night with them making frosting and cookies from scratch to make heart-shaped cookie sandwiches to give out to people all over the campus for Valentine's Day.
I miss them and I miss that time in my life and this then led me to thinking about other people that I miss. Staying up with the girls to make cookies reminds me of staying up with Albert one night to make lumpia or something for one of our classes last year. And trekking to the capitol reminds me of trekking with him over the bridge to Fuji city in the middle of a winter night and getting midnight ramen. Traveling with Travis made me miss traveling with Sean-kun and his seemingly endless knowledge of Japanese festivals and souvenirs. Walking around Akihabara and going to Mexican for dinner last night reminded me of doing the same thing with Sean, nearly a year ago. Some bands were playing music up on one of the giant snow sculpture stages in Odori Park, and two of them sang songs that Brian from Hawaii used to sing at karaoke.
Remembering all these people that have gone before, and realizing that I'll have to say goodbye to even more this summer is beginning to be really hard. The people that I hang out with most frequently, Rebecca, Pin and the Shimiz crew, Louise, Amir and the Numazu peeps, are all going. Even Travis is still unsure about whether he's going to be here for another year, and if he is, where he'll be and what that might mean for us. He could move even farther away than he already is. He could stay and maybe miserable for another year and the continuous long-distance travel could start to put a strain on our relationship.
But, I decided to re-contract knowing that all of that might be a possibility, that our relationship could end depending on our separate decisions. And I guess that's what it all comes down to and what Pin had to remind me of after Albert and Sean left: They made the decision to go back for their own reasons and ultimately they're happier, and as their friend, I should be happy for them. So, I'll gaman and try, though I can't promise I won't shed a few tears along the way.
The one silver lining in all of this, well apart from getting to live in Japan for one more year and seeing my 15HR graduate, is that if all of my gaijin friends leave, I'll probably hang out with my Japanese friends more and hopefully improve my Japanese. So we'll see.
It was when I was interning at the legislature and living down in Olympia. It was my first time living away from my family, and I was renting a room out of this woman's house, along with two other UW Asian girls, Sunny and Mary. Our landlady was awesome, our rent was really cheap and she pretty much let us have the run of the house. Sunny and Mary were great roommates, we got along on pretty much everything including a requisite love of good cheese, though they did force me from the kitchen the mornings that they made their tuna-fish sandwiches...
My family helped me move my stuff down earlier in the day, and then Sunny arrived in the afternoon. We had a fun time trekking to the capitol in our landlady's sons' old-school snow pants, as we were petite Asian girls and they were tall, tall boys. Mary arrived the next day and by then, there was lots of snow already on the ground. I remember our mornings checking how our outfits looked with one another and trading clothes or shoes when necessary. I also remember staying up late into the night with them making frosting and cookies from scratch to make heart-shaped cookie sandwiches to give out to people all over the campus for Valentine's Day.
I miss them and I miss that time in my life and this then led me to thinking about other people that I miss. Staying up with the girls to make cookies reminds me of staying up with Albert one night to make lumpia or something for one of our classes last year. And trekking to the capitol reminds me of trekking with him over the bridge to Fuji city in the middle of a winter night and getting midnight ramen. Traveling with Travis made me miss traveling with Sean-kun and his seemingly endless knowledge of Japanese festivals and souvenirs. Walking around Akihabara and going to Mexican for dinner last night reminded me of doing the same thing with Sean, nearly a year ago. Some bands were playing music up on one of the giant snow sculpture stages in Odori Park, and two of them sang songs that Brian from Hawaii used to sing at karaoke.
Remembering all these people that have gone before, and realizing that I'll have to say goodbye to even more this summer is beginning to be really hard. The people that I hang out with most frequently, Rebecca, Pin and the Shimiz crew, Louise, Amir and the Numazu peeps, are all going. Even Travis is still unsure about whether he's going to be here for another year, and if he is, where he'll be and what that might mean for us. He could move even farther away than he already is. He could stay and maybe miserable for another year and the continuous long-distance travel could start to put a strain on our relationship.
But, I decided to re-contract knowing that all of that might be a possibility, that our relationship could end depending on our separate decisions. And I guess that's what it all comes down to and what Pin had to remind me of after Albert and Sean left: They made the decision to go back for their own reasons and ultimately they're happier, and as their friend, I should be happy for them. So, I'll gaman and try, though I can't promise I won't shed a few tears along the way.
The one silver lining in all of this, well apart from getting to live in Japan for one more year and seeing my 15HR graduate, is that if all of my gaijin friends leave, I'll probably hang out with my Japanese friends more and hopefully improve my Japanese. So we'll see.
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
Seattle...Is It Still Home?: Retroactive Post
Oh god, is this really my last day in Japan of the year? Am I really getting on a plane tomorrow and heading back to Seattle? Will I really be home by the end of the week? I'm afraid that the answer to all of those questions is yes.
I don't feel ready at all. At least this year, I got my packing out of the way and the only thing left to do is clean up my house tonight after my private lesson. Physically, I'm in better shape than last year, but emotionally, I'm more of a mess.
I don't feel ready at all. At least this year, I got my packing out of the way and the only thing left to do is clean up my house tonight after my private lesson. Physically, I'm in better shape than last year, but emotionally, I'm more of a mess.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
This Week Gets Even Better...Not: Retroactive Post
So what the hell, is this my punishment for trying to enjoy Christmas? This year is the first when I actually haven't HATED Christmas, where I was actually looking forward to things and God seems to want to remind me that things are not all peachy-keen. First, it was the poor little stray kitten yesterday during lunchtime. Then it was the back-to-back-to-back announcements about one of my teacher's mother-in-laws passing away, one of my vice-principals being in the hospital, and other of my other teacher's fathers passing away...all in two days.
Then, as if to remind me of my powerlessness in certain situations, as I'm leaving one of the tiny little mom-and-pop-run grocery stores on the way home from school, another stray, this one a dog, comes up and tries begging me for food. Unfortunately, I had only bought spinach, eggplant and bamboo...not really anything suitable for a dog. I definitely couldn't take in a nearly full-grown dog, after the kitten earlier in the week, but I have to say, walking away from yet another stray really sucks. It breaks my heart that I can't do more for it.
I guess the reason why I suggest that all of this is pointed directly at me, to remind me to have a crappy time around this time of the year, is that, I've gone nearly a year without running into a stray, and now to have it happen right after another, along with the human situations...I'm nearly giving in and resigning myself to another crappy holiday season. Gah. Santa, all I want for Christmas is some peace of mind...is that too hard to ask?
Then, as if to remind me of my powerlessness in certain situations, as I'm leaving one of the tiny little mom-and-pop-run grocery stores on the way home from school, another stray, this one a dog, comes up and tries begging me for food. Unfortunately, I had only bought spinach, eggplant and bamboo...not really anything suitable for a dog. I definitely couldn't take in a nearly full-grown dog, after the kitten earlier in the week, but I have to say, walking away from yet another stray really sucks. It breaks my heart that I can't do more for it.
I guess the reason why I suggest that all of this is pointed directly at me, to remind me to have a crappy time around this time of the year, is that, I've gone nearly a year without running into a stray, and now to have it happen right after another, along with the human situations...I'm nearly giving in and resigning myself to another crappy holiday season. Gah. Santa, all I want for Christmas is some peace of mind...is that too hard to ask?
Monday, April 23, 2007
Paris, Je T'aime: Retroactive Post
Today I hurried home and prepared the different layers for the vegetarian lasagne I was making for tomorrow, so that I could catch the train to Shiz and watch a movie that Albert had told me about. Albert had heard about it from Bradford, who had seen it last week. He told me about it because it was a French movie showing in Shiz city and as such, figured I'd be interested.
I knew nothing about it, so a visit to its Wiki entry and the theater's website was in order. I was pleasantly surprised to find that one of my favorite actresses, Natalie Portman was in it, along with a medley of other actors. So, I decided to catch the 7pm showing, no matter the state of my household. I went and managed to find it fairly easily, sat down and prepared to watch yet another film in French with subtitles I couldn't understand, because this was Japan and not the US. There were points in the movie where I looked to the Japanese for help with the French, but after a while, I forgot about them.
The movie is actually a compilation of 18 short films set in 18 of the 20 arrondissements of Paris, focusing on what else but love in the city of Amour? But not simply love in the fashion of the next Hollywood romantic comedy (or love-com as the Japanese call it), though there was certainly some of that. Rather, it focused on love in its myriad forms, sometimes tragic, sometimes uplifting, sometimes disappointing, joyful, heart-breaking, as complex as a decades-long marriage or as simple as a haircut. And all of this is reflected in the city as well.
Albert is right in telling me that I need to learn as much about France, French and Paris as I can before I go there, in order to avoid the jarring pain of the real Paris as it meets the Paris of my dreams, thoughts and heart. But seeing this movie made me feel like the character in the last story, a fellow American with a terrible accent writing in French that she loves Paris and hopes that it will love her back.
At one point in the movie, I was nearly overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness, felt more keenly perhaps because I had spoken to Travis this morning and had been wishing for some company, especially his, during the movie. But by the end of it, I felt better for having seen it alone. It allowed me to engross myself in the movie, in Paris, that by the time I left the theater, I felt a different kind of culture-shock. With my head swimming with French and thoughts of a foreign country, I had to deal with the reality that I WAS in a foreign country, just not the one I had been looking at.
All of a sudden, I had to remember I was in Japan, not Seattle; that this wasn't my city, my country, my home. But then I realized that while Seattle no longer feels that way and that Japan feels more and more comfortable with the passing months, it's still not quite right. But I ask myself, Will France be any different? Or will I feel the way about France as I do Japan once I move after living here for at least a few years? Will any place ever feel 'Right' again, or is that something I've given up in exchange for the novelty of travel?
I guess we'll see. But for now, Paris, je t'aime.
I knew nothing about it, so a visit to its Wiki entry and the theater's website was in order. I was pleasantly surprised to find that one of my favorite actresses, Natalie Portman was in it, along with a medley of other actors. So, I decided to catch the 7pm showing, no matter the state of my household. I went and managed to find it fairly easily, sat down and prepared to watch yet another film in French with subtitles I couldn't understand, because this was Japan and not the US. There were points in the movie where I looked to the Japanese for help with the French, but after a while, I forgot about them.
The movie is actually a compilation of 18 short films set in 18 of the 20 arrondissements of Paris, focusing on what else but love in the city of Amour? But not simply love in the fashion of the next Hollywood romantic comedy (or love-com as the Japanese call it), though there was certainly some of that. Rather, it focused on love in its myriad forms, sometimes tragic, sometimes uplifting, sometimes disappointing, joyful, heart-breaking, as complex as a decades-long marriage or as simple as a haircut. And all of this is reflected in the city as well.
Albert is right in telling me that I need to learn as much about France, French and Paris as I can before I go there, in order to avoid the jarring pain of the real Paris as it meets the Paris of my dreams, thoughts and heart. But seeing this movie made me feel like the character in the last story, a fellow American with a terrible accent writing in French that she loves Paris and hopes that it will love her back.
At one point in the movie, I was nearly overwhelmed with a sense of loneliness, felt more keenly perhaps because I had spoken to Travis this morning and had been wishing for some company, especially his, during the movie. But by the end of it, I felt better for having seen it alone. It allowed me to engross myself in the movie, in Paris, that by the time I left the theater, I felt a different kind of culture-shock. With my head swimming with French and thoughts of a foreign country, I had to deal with the reality that I WAS in a foreign country, just not the one I had been looking at.
All of a sudden, I had to remember I was in Japan, not Seattle; that this wasn't my city, my country, my home. But then I realized that while Seattle no longer feels that way and that Japan feels more and more comfortable with the passing months, it's still not quite right. But I ask myself, Will France be any different? Or will I feel the way about France as I do Japan once I move after living here for at least a few years? Will any place ever feel 'Right' again, or is that something I've given up in exchange for the novelty of travel?
I guess we'll see. But for now, Paris, je t'aime.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
My Love City: Retroactive Post
God, I love being in Nagoya. I came here yesterday right from work and the minute that I got onto the platform at Nagoya station, I could feel this overwhelming sense of relief pass through my body. Like this is where I belong. It's like that every time I go back. I thought that that would be how I felt when I went back to Seattle this Christmas break, but I didn't. I guess that reinforces my recent realization that Seattle no longer feels like home. I mean, don't get me wrong, I still love that city and being with my friends and family is awesome, but it's no longer the same. I don't see it with the same eyes anymore. It just makes it easier to decide to move to Europe after this.
Anyway, I came out here because I wanted to see Chika before she heads out to Europe tomorrow morning for a month, but I now, I feel like I wish I hadn't, because it shows me just how much I love being here. Everything is familar in the way that Seattle is, but it's also still very foreign. Add to that that not only is one of my best friends here, but my aunt and uncle. Tonight, we had dinner and were drinking together with some of their friends, and it felt just like hanging out with my own friends at my house. I really love my Tita Elvie and Otosan. It almost makes me regret signing my contract for another year. I wish I could spend more time here than just a couple days at a time. I would give anything to be able to live in this city for another few months.
*Sigh* Oh well, the world changes and you've just got to roll with the punches, right? Here's to the future...
Anyway, I came out here because I wanted to see Chika before she heads out to Europe tomorrow morning for a month, but I now, I feel like I wish I hadn't, because it shows me just how much I love being here. Everything is familar in the way that Seattle is, but it's also still very foreign. Add to that that not only is one of my best friends here, but my aunt and uncle. Tonight, we had dinner and were drinking together with some of their friends, and it felt just like hanging out with my own friends at my house. I really love my Tita Elvie and Otosan. It almost makes me regret signing my contract for another year. I wish I could spend more time here than just a couple days at a time. I would give anything to be able to live in this city for another few months.
*Sigh* Oh well, the world changes and you've just got to roll with the punches, right? Here's to the future...
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Procrastinator: Retroactive Post
So, it's currently 2:39AM in Japan, and I haven't started packing for my flight back home to Seattle tomorrow afternoon. While my flight doesn't technically leave til 3, I start my day of train-riding at 9 tomorrow morning, which means my last 6 hours left in Japan will be spent trying to clean my house and pack for two weeks. Yay for me.
I don't quite know how I feel about heading home. It didn't hit me until I sent Clifton off to his own flight today, that in about 24 hours, I was going to be in Seattle. I came back into my house and just sat down to try to deal with that. Of course I'm excited to see my family and friends, and to be able to be in the city that I love and grew up in. Not only that, but one of my best friends is going to come with me and I can introduce her to life in the Pacific Northwest. It was having a friend over (Clifton, you're great) that made me realize how much I miss having friends that I related to over more than just the fact that we were all in Japan at the same time. I want to share Japan and this incredibly unique experience with all of you. But we don't always get what we want...
I think that what worries me more is the thought of coming back to this after two weeks. I left work today not really finding that much closure, probably since I was leaving early, before school was offiicially out for winter vacation, but also because I know that it will be crazy to come back the day before school starts up again. Maybe I should have left an extra day to readjust, because if there's ever a time that I'm likely to need readjusting, it'll be then. Readjusting to Shin-kambara after Nagoya or Tokyo is hard enough, readjusting to it after Seattle will be killer. I dunno, maybe I'm just rambling or whining or both, or maybe I should get more sleep, but here are my thoughts on going back right now. Make of it what you will.
I don't quite know how I feel about heading home. It didn't hit me until I sent Clifton off to his own flight today, that in about 24 hours, I was going to be in Seattle. I came back into my house and just sat down to try to deal with that. Of course I'm excited to see my family and friends, and to be able to be in the city that I love and grew up in. Not only that, but one of my best friends is going to come with me and I can introduce her to life in the Pacific Northwest. It was having a friend over (Clifton, you're great) that made me realize how much I miss having friends that I related to over more than just the fact that we were all in Japan at the same time. I want to share Japan and this incredibly unique experience with all of you. But we don't always get what we want...
I think that what worries me more is the thought of coming back to this after two weeks. I left work today not really finding that much closure, probably since I was leaving early, before school was offiicially out for winter vacation, but also because I know that it will be crazy to come back the day before school starts up again. Maybe I should have left an extra day to readjust, because if there's ever a time that I'm likely to need readjusting, it'll be then. Readjusting to Shin-kambara after Nagoya or Tokyo is hard enough, readjusting to it after Seattle will be killer. I dunno, maybe I'm just rambling or whining or both, or maybe I should get more sleep, but here are my thoughts on going back right now. Make of it what you will.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
My Birthday!: Retroactive Post
Hey all,
Had to post this because it contains two of my favorites, wrapped up into one:
My favorite TV show ever, and those of you who know me well enough already know that the answer is: Farscape, and my favorite song is '23' by Jimmy Eat World. I was just thinking about how appropriate this is since I'll be turning 23 on the 23rd, the only time that this'll ever happen in my lifetime. So, this is mostly for me rather than anyone else, but I guess, five, ten, fifteen years down the line, I can look at this post and remember the Sarah of now. Enjoy, and maybe it'll give you a bit of insight into me.
Lonely Dreams
Had to post this because it contains two of my favorites, wrapped up into one:
My favorite TV show ever, and those of you who know me well enough already know that the answer is: Farscape, and my favorite song is '23' by Jimmy Eat World. I was just thinking about how appropriate this is since I'll be turning 23 on the 23rd, the only time that this'll ever happen in my lifetime. So, this is mostly for me rather than anyone else, but I guess, five, ten, fifteen years down the line, I can look at this post and remember the Sarah of now. Enjoy, and maybe it'll give you a bit of insight into me.
Lonely Dreams
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Hanami: Retroactive Post
Sorry I haven't written in a while. I've either been a bum and too lazy to put in the work of putting up all of my new pics, or out and about, and taking the damn things. But here's what I've been up to so far.
The weekend before last, signaled the start of the hanami, which is when all the sakura *cherry blossoms go into bloom and everyone goes out to enjoy them in the many parks around the cities of Japan. This is a huge deal: the news is full of stories, following the wash of pink as it flows up from the south to cover the country. The reason why its such a big deal, and why everyone goes out to see the flowers, is because its so fleeting: the blossoms only bloom when it gets warm enough and then once they bloom, they're gone with the next rain or the next day of strong winds.
I think it's great that people take the time out of their schedules to recognize the momentary beauty of these flowers and maybe reflect on the briefness of our lives. In short, it's the Japanese way of stopping and smelling the roses. Which is really important for them, since one thing that I've learned since I've gotten here, is how much of a workaholic nation Japan is. I think they value their free time a little more than we do, and it explains why they tend to drink so much and maybe do some of the crazy things we sometimes see. And why they love karaoke so much.
Anyway, on the Saturday, I went with my aunt and cousin Uichi-san to Nagoya Castle, though I'm supposed to make sure that I call it Nagoya Jo if I'm ever taking a taxi, since if I ask for Nagoya Castle, I'll get driven to a love hotel-and I'm still not sure what exactly that means, but I think I'll stay away just in case. So, here are my pics of the castle: Nagoya Jo.
Nagoya Jo is one of the largest castles in Japan. It is a famous symbol, because it was the home of one of the family lines of Tokugawa Ieyasu, the founder and first shogun of the Tokugawa bakufu (shogunate), a military dictatorship which ruled Japan from 1600 to the Meiji Restoration in 1868. I actually also visited his childhood home, Okazaki Castle, the following week. I'll post another blog for those pics later on.
Following that we headed over to Tsurumai Park, (where it snowed that one day), and ended the day celebrating in true Japanese fashion with a picnic under the trees lasting into the night. It was too cold for my cousin Uichi-san, so he went home. Meanwhile, my aunt and I are left to spread out on our little picnic mat alongside many other parties of varying sizes. We got there around 5 or so, and already, there were drunk people wandering around, especially drunk Americans.
My favorite was when one of the drunk Americans stumbled into a group of young Japanese people, and the Japanese guy that he had ran into had also been doing some drinking, and so his group happily started to chant, USA, USA! After that, he passes them and starts to head to his group, but of course the mat with me and my aunt sitting on it is in front of him. I wish that I had been able to get a picture of the look on his face, as his eyes took us in. It was hilarious, knowing that were right in front of him, but he looked as if we had appeared out of nowhere to him, because he was so drunk. Oh, funny.
Later on in the evening, there is a group of maybe four older Japanese men, Im talking 60 or so, thats got a mat next to ours. They seemed friendly and one of them asked if where we were from, since it was obvious we werent Japanese. My aunt responded saying that she was from the Philippines and that I was visiting from the US. My aunt tells me that he was surprised to find out that I was her niece, since they thought that we were just friends. They chat a bit more and give us a can of beer, which we share, to be polite. Fast-forward to when I get back from using the restroom, and my aunt tells me that the guy that had talked to her earlier had asked if wed come and join their group, but my aunt had to refuse, since we were actually waiting for her husband, my uncle.
I'm sorry if I think that this was hilarious, its just that I soooo saw it coming when they first talked to us. Anyway, later, my uncle gets there, we buy some of the slightly over-priced vendor food, have a drink and then head home since it was starting to get cold. Not the most exciting hanami, but it was still enjoyable. Apparently, it gets pretty crazy later in the night, once everyone has had more than a few drinks, and people end up dancing and singing and stuff under the trees. My aunt told me that when she and my uncle were younger, they did that. Maybe if some of you guys come to visit me in the next spring, we'll have a wilder time! So, start saving up, okay?
The weekend before last, signaled the start of the hanami, which is when all the sakura *cherry blossoms go into bloom and everyone goes out to enjoy them in the many parks around the cities of Japan. This is a huge deal: the news is full of stories, following the wash of pink as it flows up from the south to cover the country. The reason why its such a big deal, and why everyone goes out to see the flowers, is because its so fleeting: the blossoms only bloom when it gets warm enough and then once they bloom, they're gone with the next rain or the next day of strong winds.
I think it's great that people take the time out of their schedules to recognize the momentary beauty of these flowers and maybe reflect on the briefness of our lives. In short, it's the Japanese way of stopping and smelling the roses. Which is really important for them, since one thing that I've learned since I've gotten here, is how much of a workaholic nation Japan is. I think they value their free time a little more than we do, and it explains why they tend to drink so much and maybe do some of the crazy things we sometimes see. And why they love karaoke so much.
Anyway, on the Saturday, I went with my aunt and cousin Uichi-san to Nagoya Castle, though I'm supposed to make sure that I call it Nagoya Jo if I'm ever taking a taxi, since if I ask for Nagoya Castle, I'll get driven to a love hotel-and I'm still not sure what exactly that means, but I think I'll stay away just in case. So, here are my pics of the castle: Nagoya Jo.
Nagoya Jo is one of the largest castles in Japan. It is a famous symbol, because it was the home of one of the family lines of Tokugawa Ieyasu, the founder and first shogun of the Tokugawa bakufu (shogunate), a military dictatorship which ruled Japan from 1600 to the Meiji Restoration in 1868. I actually also visited his childhood home, Okazaki Castle, the following week. I'll post another blog for those pics later on.
Following that we headed over to Tsurumai Park, (where it snowed that one day), and ended the day celebrating in true Japanese fashion with a picnic under the trees lasting into the night. It was too cold for my cousin Uichi-san, so he went home. Meanwhile, my aunt and I are left to spread out on our little picnic mat alongside many other parties of varying sizes. We got there around 5 or so, and already, there were drunk people wandering around, especially drunk Americans.
My favorite was when one of the drunk Americans stumbled into a group of young Japanese people, and the Japanese guy that he had ran into had also been doing some drinking, and so his group happily started to chant, USA, USA! After that, he passes them and starts to head to his group, but of course the mat with me and my aunt sitting on it is in front of him. I wish that I had been able to get a picture of the look on his face, as his eyes took us in. It was hilarious, knowing that were right in front of him, but he looked as if we had appeared out of nowhere to him, because he was so drunk. Oh, funny.
Later on in the evening, there is a group of maybe four older Japanese men, Im talking 60 or so, thats got a mat next to ours. They seemed friendly and one of them asked if where we were from, since it was obvious we werent Japanese. My aunt responded saying that she was from the Philippines and that I was visiting from the US. My aunt tells me that he was surprised to find out that I was her niece, since they thought that we were just friends. They chat a bit more and give us a can of beer, which we share, to be polite. Fast-forward to when I get back from using the restroom, and my aunt tells me that the guy that had talked to her earlier had asked if wed come and join their group, but my aunt had to refuse, since we were actually waiting for her husband, my uncle.
I'm sorry if I think that this was hilarious, its just that I soooo saw it coming when they first talked to us. Anyway, later, my uncle gets there, we buy some of the slightly over-priced vendor food, have a drink and then head home since it was starting to get cold. Not the most exciting hanami, but it was still enjoyable. Apparently, it gets pretty crazy later in the night, once everyone has had more than a few drinks, and people end up dancing and singing and stuff under the trees. My aunt told me that when she and my uncle were younger, they did that. Maybe if some of you guys come to visit me in the next spring, we'll have a wilder time! So, start saving up, okay?
Friday, March 3, 2006
Sayonara Seattle: Retroactive Post
I haven't slept for more than four hours in the last 36, so maybe that might account for my jumbled emotional state right now. As I type this, I am hurtling hundreds of feet per minute towards Japan.
I had stayed up until 2 am last night, getting packed for the next three months and then woke up at 6 to continue preparing while my mom and dad left this morning to go to a doctor's appointment for my dad. My plane was due to depart at 12:55pm this afternoon, and I was starting to worry when Pone and my parents still weren't home by 10:30. They get home at last, and we load the two huge check-in luggage, my carry-on luggage, my laptop case, my niece Kyla who's knocked out in her car seat, and her diaper bag, into our van and get on I-5 to SeaTac.
Unfortunately, after merging onto the freeway from the entrance ramp, traffic just stops moving, we hear emergency signals and spot a truck heading to some point up ahead of us. Luckily we get past the accident that had been slowing everything down, and get to the airport by 11:00. However, I was to find that this was merely the first in a series of occurrences that seemed determined to prevent me from getting to Japan.
We unload everything from the car and go to the curbside baggage check-in. There are several people there, but we eventually get the attention of a friendly baggage handler. He then promptly tells me that the weight limit on check-in baggage was not the 70lbs that it normally is if you go to the Philippines, and which my mom and I had argued over about trying to pack everything and still remain under the limit, but rather 50lbs: which left us with 40lbs to redistribute in my already full carry-on luggage. Fortunately, there was a Filipino man also traveling to Japan right behind us in line, and who had also been unaware of the different weight restrictions, but after talking with the Filipino baggage handler and my parents in a Tagalog conversation which I barely understood, I found out that he'd be willing to take on some of my excess packages.
After getting my boarding pass, I head over to my gate, say rushed good-bye to my family and head through the screening process. I get my stuff through pretty quickly, but they tell me that they've just got to look through my rolling carry-on luggage, which I readily agree to. They take out my things and wipe down the inside of the luggage and scan it for stuff. I think nothing of it, until the machine alerts of her an EDT (no idea what that is) hit, which makes her call someone else.
As he looks through a folder of info, she tells me that she's got to go through the purse I had inside. Again, I agree and it's not until she starts pulling stuff out that is covered in something liquid that I realize that something has gone very wrong: the bottle of prescription cough syrup that my doctor had prescribed for me in case I got sick again in Japan, had broken and leaked all of its contents into my purse, covering my umbrella, lotion and other materials. They didn't make a big deal about it once they found out that it was just cough syrup, but that left me with a huge mess to clean up, aided by the roll of paper towels they gave to me, but my Coach purse is ruined, and it sucks even more because that was the ONLY purse I had brought with me.
I get most of it dealt with and head to my gate with the guy, Leo, who's carrying some of my stuff. We make it to the gate, and after waiting for only a short time, find that they're starting to board. It was going through that boarding ramp that started doing it for me. It was when I realized, there's no going back. I get on the plane, make it to my seat, struggle with getting my luggage into the overhead compartment and take my seat next to a Japanese girl who looks to be about my age (we haven't spoken). From there, as more and more people of Japanese descent get on the plane, I realize just how scared I was about going to another country and that I've left my life and everything that I know behind, but I take some deep breaths and calm down. I sorta dozed as we were preparing to get ready, but had to wait through a half hour delay as they had to do something with the water tank. Finally, our plane pulls away from the terminal and we make our slow, bumpy way down the landing strip.
At one point, there were these loud thudding noises coming from below us and I felt a brief flash of fear as I thought about it being a sign that our plane was going to crash on take-off, further helped along as our plane started to slow and then stop. However I was relieved to find that we were stopping because we were waiting for a plane in front of us to start their take-off and then noticed this line of planes behind us all waiting for their chance to take-off, and all of a sudden, instead of being scared, I was excited as my plane's engines fired up and thrust us into the air and towards Japan.
As we cleared the cloud cover and got into the sunlight, I remembered what it was like when I had gone sky-diving and the extremely unnatural sensation of falling fast through the clouds. The feelings that I felt then mirror a lot of the ones that I'm going through now:; fear about what it's actually going to be like; excitement that this is something I've never done before; sadness that no one is with me; disbelief that I'm actually going through with this; but pride as well, that all of my talk about traveling was not just talk, and that I can actually walk that talk.
So, to everyone at home: I love you all but I'm happy I'm doing this. See you in three months.
I had stayed up until 2 am last night, getting packed for the next three months and then woke up at 6 to continue preparing while my mom and dad left this morning to go to a doctor's appointment for my dad. My plane was due to depart at 12:55pm this afternoon, and I was starting to worry when Pone and my parents still weren't home by 10:30. They get home at last, and we load the two huge check-in luggage, my carry-on luggage, my laptop case, my niece Kyla who's knocked out in her car seat, and her diaper bag, into our van and get on I-5 to SeaTac.
Unfortunately, after merging onto the freeway from the entrance ramp, traffic just stops moving, we hear emergency signals and spot a truck heading to some point up ahead of us. Luckily we get past the accident that had been slowing everything down, and get to the airport by 11:00. However, I was to find that this was merely the first in a series of occurrences that seemed determined to prevent me from getting to Japan.
We unload everything from the car and go to the curbside baggage check-in. There are several people there, but we eventually get the attention of a friendly baggage handler. He then promptly tells me that the weight limit on check-in baggage was not the 70lbs that it normally is if you go to the Philippines, and which my mom and I had argued over about trying to pack everything and still remain under the limit, but rather 50lbs: which left us with 40lbs to redistribute in my already full carry-on luggage. Fortunately, there was a Filipino man also traveling to Japan right behind us in line, and who had also been unaware of the different weight restrictions, but after talking with the Filipino baggage handler and my parents in a Tagalog conversation which I barely understood, I found out that he'd be willing to take on some of my excess packages.
After getting my boarding pass, I head over to my gate, say rushed good-bye to my family and head through the screening process. I get my stuff through pretty quickly, but they tell me that they've just got to look through my rolling carry-on luggage, which I readily agree to. They take out my things and wipe down the inside of the luggage and scan it for stuff. I think nothing of it, until the machine alerts of her an EDT (no idea what that is) hit, which makes her call someone else.
As he looks through a folder of info, she tells me that she's got to go through the purse I had inside. Again, I agree and it's not until she starts pulling stuff out that is covered in something liquid that I realize that something has gone very wrong: the bottle of prescription cough syrup that my doctor had prescribed for me in case I got sick again in Japan, had broken and leaked all of its contents into my purse, covering my umbrella, lotion and other materials. They didn't make a big deal about it once they found out that it was just cough syrup, but that left me with a huge mess to clean up, aided by the roll of paper towels they gave to me, but my Coach purse is ruined, and it sucks even more because that was the ONLY purse I had brought with me.
I get most of it dealt with and head to my gate with the guy, Leo, who's carrying some of my stuff. We make it to the gate, and after waiting for only a short time, find that they're starting to board. It was going through that boarding ramp that started doing it for me. It was when I realized, there's no going back. I get on the plane, make it to my seat, struggle with getting my luggage into the overhead compartment and take my seat next to a Japanese girl who looks to be about my age (we haven't spoken). From there, as more and more people of Japanese descent get on the plane, I realize just how scared I was about going to another country and that I've left my life and everything that I know behind, but I take some deep breaths and calm down. I sorta dozed as we were preparing to get ready, but had to wait through a half hour delay as they had to do something with the water tank. Finally, our plane pulls away from the terminal and we make our slow, bumpy way down the landing strip.
At one point, there were these loud thudding noises coming from below us and I felt a brief flash of fear as I thought about it being a sign that our plane was going to crash on take-off, further helped along as our plane started to slow and then stop. However I was relieved to find that we were stopping because we were waiting for a plane in front of us to start their take-off and then noticed this line of planes behind us all waiting for their chance to take-off, and all of a sudden, instead of being scared, I was excited as my plane's engines fired up and thrust us into the air and towards Japan.
As we cleared the cloud cover and got into the sunlight, I remembered what it was like when I had gone sky-diving and the extremely unnatural sensation of falling fast through the clouds. The feelings that I felt then mirror a lot of the ones that I'm going through now:; fear about what it's actually going to be like; excitement that this is something I've never done before; sadness that no one is with me; disbelief that I'm actually going through with this; but pride as well, that all of my talk about traveling was not just talk, and that I can actually walk that talk.
So, to everyone at home: I love you all but I'm happy I'm doing this. See you in three months.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
