Leaving Home for Home

I am filled with mixed emotions right now. Tomorrow morning I will be leaving a place I call home for another place I call home. Bittersweet. I have lived in Japan for two years now. I have met some of the nicest people on the face of the earth, done some incredible things, been able to travel a smidgen of the globe, and lived in a completely unique (and sometimes bizarre) country.

I taught English to day care students, elementary students, junior high school students, and even a few old, eager elders. I learned the names of every single one of them (something I thought would never happen), what they liked, who their brother/sister was, what subject they excelled in. Not only that, but I feel like I really got to know them. Despite the mother tongue language barrier, it is amazing how much can be expressed with a little patience and a few basic words.

I came to Japan sporting a goatee, being able to speak 3 or 4 words, not knowing how to use chopsticks, weighing 106 kilos, and not knowing anyone in Japan. Now, I am leaving clean-shaven, able to speak 3- or 4-dozen words, a chopstick pro, weighing 92 kilos, and with a friendship with an entire village in the Japanese countryside!

What's next? At the end of August, I'll be moving to circa Austin, TX to attend graduate school in analytical chemistry. It's sad to think of a new beginning when you wouldn't mind not having the last thing end. But yeah, life goes on. I am ready for the next adventure! This blog was pretty much dedicated to my experiences in Japan. I would like to start another blog about happenings in my life, but analytical chemistry (endearingly known as Anal Chem by chem majors) isn't exactly the most exciting thing to read about. We'll see what happens. I hope you enjoyed reading this blog, I know I sure enjoyed writing it!

Sayonara from Japan. I'll see you in America.

Easy Choice, Right?

This is where America and Japan differ--not to mention about a billion other things.

America...bigger is better...more bang for your buck...something for nothing...fat people. I always chuckle as I push the button on the left and think of the poor sucker who can't do simple arithmetic, ratios, and/or see. Poor sap.

Japan...land of the rising sun and a few other things that are so strange and contadicting and peculiar that I may never know. Anyway, they may have it right on this vending machine. The capitalist inside me just puked...but yeah...if you don't want to drink the big one, why get it?

Yari-ga-take: 槍ヶ岳

Yari-ga-take (trans. Spear Peak) is the cantankerous, stubbornly rooted boil of the earth's crust. Protruding and poppable, but not. You think a peak so steep would just fall over. Not the case. The only things falling over are the people trying to climb it. To make things interesting (worse), Enid and I decided to climb it in the middle of a typhoon. Don't worry Mr. Havelaar, I made sure nothing bad happened to your daughter. Thus begins the picture book with witty dialogue.

Here is Enid climbing down the "Ladder to Oblivion" after summiting the peak. The combination of the wind, rain, and altitude almost made this photo impossible. I'm not really down with heights, so I told myself to not peer over the edge...but I had to capture those pearly whites.

Here is the obligatory summit photo with beautiful view backdrop, minus the beautiful view backdrop. At 3180 meters, Yari-ga-take is the fifth highest peak in Japan. On a clear day, you can see scenery most Japanese people only dream about. What I saw? The fog on my lenses and a nameless typhoon (the Japanese people just number them...they don't want to get personal with storms of destruction).

These are the said "Ladders to Oblivion." You would probably never guess it, but the one on the left tried to kill me.
This is "The Funnel." If you happen to fall while crossing these giant snowfields, good luck. You will slide down that mountain valley faster than expectorated mouthwash in a dentist's side sink.

Enid shows us how to navigate "The Funnel." She knows how to stick to the trail like plaque around the gum line.

This is me in a crevasse. I included this picture for 2 reasons: 1) it looks cool, and 2) I have never used the word 'crevasse' in a serious sentence.

Cultural Realization #782

Japanese people are great at embellishing things. From ornamenting their entire dashboard with Pooh-san (Winnie the Pooh) and other stuffed animals, to landscaping and irrigating every square centimeter of land, they really know how to make anything look good (or gaudy). Even poop.

It's Training Cats and Dogs

My sixth grade teacher, Mr. Freese, (what a scary name for a teacher) still affects my life from time to time, even though I am way past long division (I have a calculator), memorizing state capitals, and believing that he was the arch nemesis of Spider-Man. He introduced me to the phrase "Perfect practice makes perfect." Not just practice, but perfect practice. If it is not worth practicing perfectly, then perfection will never be accomplished. There is truth in this...there is also the entire Japanese psyche wrapped up in this phrase, especially if you add the Boy Scouts' motto as a kicker.

During my two years in Japan, I have been trained (in Japanese mind you) on how to give CPR, what to do in case of an earthquake, a fire, a landslide, a tsunami, if a lunatic comes to school wielding a knife, how to administer an automated external defribrillator (for comparison, this happens during 3rd year of medical school in the states), and how to best help a student who has just fainted and/or is hyperventilating. This is hands-on stuff, too.

Turns out, if a psychopath comes to school dressed in the usual psychopath clothes (the first tip-off) which includes wearing sunglasses inside, you should go straight for the best defense against such a foe: the gigantic 2-pronged fork that sits in the corner of all the classrooms. You use the gigantic 2-pronged fork by sliding a tine under each armpit and pinning him up against the wall, much like a slippery noodle on fine china.

They also start them young in Japan. Last Wednesday, we took the pre-schoolers (age 3-5) to the 3-D tsunami and landslide simulator instead of playing musical chairs. That was a bad idea. As soon as everyone had their over-sized 3-D glasses on and the door to the enormous semi-trailer/simulator was closed the havoc began. Let's just say I've never experienced a simulated boulder and a few mechanized chairs cause so many real tears before.